#been eating nothing but cereal since she left

[aimie-academie]

Day 2 of missing the lady while she's gone

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three four

Steve’s eating a bowl of cereal, squinting in the morning light. He’s barefoot, wearing nothing but sleep shorts, and is considering going back to bed. He shouldn’t though; he has to be on time today.

Since the mall burned down, Scoops Ahoy is, annoyingly, no more. Robin thinks she has something though, some guy at Family Video who probably has the hots for her or something. Doesn’t matter though, Steve doesn’t really care what this Keith guys motivation is as long as it results in gainful employment for the both of them.

He really should shower.

Steve can see the pool from here, so he’s in a prime position to watch as Eddie pulls himself out of the water and makes his way to the back door.

This is the second time Eddie has come into the house, if you don’t count the emergency temporary over nighter in the bath tub. Well, it’s the second time Eddie has brought himself into the house, at least.

He waits patiently at the back door, like a cat waiting to be let in, and Steve opens the door for him, cereal bowl still balanced in the other hand.

He holds himself in that same way, flat of his tail curled up beneath him, giving him a little height, and he sits himself uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen floor, “hi Eddie.”

“Stee. Buddidy”

Steve gets him some celery from the bottom of the fridge and gives him the whole thing. They stand, and sit, together in comfortable silence, crunching their way through their respective breakfasts.

Steve watches as Eddie cautiously makes his way to the fridge once he’s done, looking to Steve with his his hand on the door, a question on his face, Steve nods, “yeah.”

Eddie opens the door, and Steve watches as he explores, carefully moving jars and condiments and stuff around, glass clinking quietly, before he opens the drawer at the bottom and pulls out a pear, carefully closing the drawer and door again after. He eats the whole thing, stalk, core, seeds, everything.

Steve washes up his dish, checking the time, “want to watch some TV?”

Eddie cocks his head, but follows Steve into the lounge. He sits, looking around, feeling the carpet under his hands, running his nails carefully through the pile until the TV catches his attention.

He moves closer. And then closer again, making Steve laugh when he taps a nail on the curved glass of the screen.

“I’m going to go shower, you shouldn't sit so close, it’s bad for your eyes.”

Robin does her make up in the car on the way over to Family Video, “how’s Eddie?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, it really means a lot to me, how much you care about my well being.”

She sighs through her nose and rolls her eyes, and Steve tuts at her.

“He came in the house this morning, I left him watching TV.”

“Huh. I mean normally I would say it’ll rot his brain but, something for him to do would be good, right?”

“Yeah. And if I’m getting a job, we should try and teach him to use the walkie’s at least. In case there’s like an emergency or something.”

“A fruit and veg related emergency.”

“Yeah, kind of. We really need to figure out what to do with him, he can’t just sit in my pool forever.”

She hums in agreement.

It’s just starting to rain when Steve gets home, the first break in the nearly two weeks of sunny weather they’ve been having.

Probably won’t be sharing a beer with Eddie tonight then. Well, Steve hasn’t really been sharing, he’s been letting Eddie steal the last third of a bottle, which isn’t really the same thing.

Eddie’s actually sitting on on the couch when Steve gets in, which surprises him momentarily. There’s an empty container on the cushion next to him, Steve figures he found the grapes.

“Hey.”

Eddie turns to see him, smiling, clearly pleased to see him, which is a nice change of pace. Sure he knows Robin loves him, but she’s never actually openly really happy to see him unless she’s, like, drunk or high. And the kids. Steve knows they must at least kind of like him, but they’re all just little shits. Having someone to come home to who is genuinely pleased to see him is a really nice change of pace.

“It just started raining.”

“Raiiniing.”

“Yeah,” Steve points at the window, “uhm, wet. Uhm. Sky wet.”

“Et.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s eyes widen suddenly, scrabbling off the couch in clear panic, “Et! Et!”

“Yeah Buddy, what’s wrong-”

Eddie’s frantically slithering across the lounge carpet with what is a truly amazing turn of speed considering his anatomy, “et inied! Book! NO! NO!”

“Oh, shit! Your book,” Steve hops over Eddie’s tail, making it to the door and then sprinting across the grass, grabbing the book and bringing it back.

Eddie’s sitting in the door way, hands clasped together, watching anxiously, “it’s not so bad, just a little damp.” Steve holds the book out to show him where drops of rain have speckled the pages, “it’s not bad.”

“Not bad. Good,” but he’s still frowning, clearly concerned where the paper is discolored by the water.

“Wait,” Eddie does as he’s told as Steve runs upstairs for the hair dryer, plugging it in in the lounge and sitting on the floor, Eddie joining him with the book. “Here, feel,” he turns it on, pointing it Eddie’s way.

Eddie sticks his fingers towards it, and then pulls the back, startled. Then he does it again before watching Steve dry the pages of the book, “dry. Et inied.”

“That’s right buddy.”

“Stee Edidie budidy.”

“That’s right. Yeah.”

Eddie sits next to Steve watching nervously as Steve gets the final pages dried off, and Steve hands the book back.

Eddie grins, “thanks Birdidie,” and then darts forward to press his lips to Steve’s cheek. It's just a press, not a real kiss.

“Oh,” and then Steve chuckles when he realizes what’s happened, the behavior that Eddie's seen and is now mimicking, “no. Uhm. Thank you Steve.”

Eddie cocks his head.

“Wait, wait,” Steve takes the hair dryer with him, heading up the stairs again, and this time coming back with a handful of Polaroids, he shuffles them into a neat stack, sitting next to Eddie on the floor. “Right, this is Robin. Birdie.”

“Thanks Birdidie.”

“Yeah, that’s right, that’s Birdie, now,” Steve shuffles through, “Max,” he says pointing, “and El.”

“El. Max.”

It’s thirty minutes and two pears later, but Eddie seems to be able to identify everyone reliably from their photographs, “no, Dustin.”

“Dust bin,” Eddie replies, confidently.

“You know what, sure, dust bin. Let’s go with that. Kind of suits him, actually.”

Steve’s drinking his evening beer. The weather much better again today, but the evenings are drawing in, and the sun set has almost taken Steve by surprise with how early it’s painting the sky pink. Summer’s coming to a close. Which brings some urgency to the question; what are they going to do with Eddie? The pool isn’t heated, and it usually gets drained and covered for the winter months. It’ll definitely freeze over at some point if they leave it open like this, and there’s no way Eddie could survive that, could he?

Steve doesn’t know. There’s just too much they don’t know about Eddie.

Steve’s got his first shift at Family Video tomorrow, a closing shift with the manager, Keith. Apparently he wants to show Steve the ropes when it comes to shutting down the store; Steve figures just from that that he’s going to be stuck with more than his fair share of late shifts.

He wonders if Eddie’s going to miss his evening beer. He really should teach Eddie to use a walkie. Tomorrow, he decides, will be as good a time as any. Tomorrow morning, and then Steve can leave one with Eddie and take one to work with him.

At least he knows Eddie can get into the house if he really has to, if he gets hungry or whatever. He really could do with some sort of cover out here though. Some where to leave his book in case of the rain. Maybe put a couple of towels in there, some food in the cool box when Steve’s out, the walkie, that sort of stuff.

Eddie swims over, pushing his floating toy bucket along ahead of him in the water. There are things in it tonight, which is a first. Eddie puts his bucket on the side of the pool before pulling himself out to sit beside Steve.

He pulls something out of his bucket to show to Steve, “oh, it’s a pine cone. Hold on.” Steve puts his beer down to grab the encyclopedia, and Eddie duly swipes it. Steve flicks through the book wile Eddie sips the beer, “look, this is a tree.”

“Tee.”

“Tree.”

“Trrreeee.”

“Yeah, it’s a seed for a tree,” Steve shows Eddie the series of pictures, how the seed underground grows a little shoot that grows, eventually, into a tree.

Eddie fetches something else from his bucket, showing Steve, “trree?”

“Leaf,” Steve points at the leaf in Eddie’s hand, then, “tree,” as he points to the tree line at the bottom edge of the yard.

Eddie’s frowning at the page in the book, but he does nod, so Steve doesn’t push it any further.

“Steve do you know how early it is.”

“I know, but I don’t care, do you still have that tent you were playing around with last summer?”

“Camping, Steve, I went camping with-what do you want it for, anyway?”

“It’s for Eddie.”

“Oh, yeah,” Dustin’s tone changes to immediately helpful, “yeah, do you want to come and get it? I’m pretty sure I still have it-MAAAAA! MAAAAAAA DO YOU KNOW-”

Steve pulls the receiver away from his head while Dustin's hollering at his poor mother.

“Yeah, we know where it is, you coming now?”

Eddie’s holding a piece of plastic tubing, looking concerned, and watching Steve struggle with the worlds smallest two man tent, “it’s okay, I got this.”

Eddie tilts his head one way and then the other, like a curious bird, as Steve struggles. It takes a couple of failed attempts, not helped by the fact that Dustin couldn’t find the instructions, but it doesn’t take that long before the tent is ready. Steve sets it on the grass, the doorway edge butted up against the tiles that surround the pool edge. Steve fixes the guy ropes using metal tent pegs driven into the lawn. It’s not hugely spacious inside, just big enough to accommodate two medium sized dudes when lying down, just as long as those two medium sized dudes are super comfortable with each other, then it’s fine.

Steve goes backward and forward, lining the bottom with a couple of sleeping mats he also borrowed from Dustin, and then putting in a couple of towels, Eddie’s book, and rescuing the Rubik's cube and slinkie from where they've lain, ignored, on the side of the pool, “there, what do you think?”

Eddie moves closer, cautiously looking inside before looking back to Steve, “yeah, good. Go in, it's okay,” Steve nods and smiles and generally tries to be encouraging.

Eddie goes inside before turning to look out, sitting on his tail.

Steve sits in the doorway, “it’ll keep your book dry.”

Eddie ponders that a moment, touching his book, before looking up. He carefully touches the inside of the tent roof, “et inied?”

“Yeah buddy, that’s right. Good.”

Part six

[mxltifxnd0m]

spring showers 𖥔 d.winchester

summary: dean interrupts your shower

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x fem! reader

word count: 1.6K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', fluff, smidge of angst, nudity, mentions of smut, implied smut, cursing

a/n: this was inspired by an old fic i wrote for druig back in 2022 and decided to rework it for dean! this is not full on smut but has NSFW themes so MINORS DNI!! you have been warned!

anyways reblog and comment i love seeing your thoughts and i hope you guys enjoy it!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Steam filled the shower room of the bunker as water glided down your face and body.

You had a love for showers. Not that you don’t enjoy a bath once in a while, but those were more of a luxury than a necessity. You loved a hot shower after a brutal hunt, the warm water relaxing the sore muscles of your shoulders and back. The stinging of your wounds while the water ran down your body served as a reminder that you were still alive and not another casualty in a long line of them caused by the monsters. 

It was satisfying to see the crimson-red stained water roll down the drain until it turned clear. There were times you stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out and cold water started to spurt out of the showerhead. However, you didn’t get this often because of the rundown motels you stayed at while on hunts. Hot showers were used sparingly if you were bunking with the Winchesters.

Ah, yes, the Winchester brothers. You had the pleasure of meeting them when you were crashing at Bobby’s. They stumbled through the front door and found you sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but an old oversized t-shirt and shorts that were hidden underneath the shirt and eating cereal.

They were understandably confused when they saw a woman eating at Bobby’s kitchen table, and you noticed the shorter one of the two (even though he still towered over you); his gaze had never left your figure. You practically felt naked under his piercing stare, his forest green eyes flickering between your bare legs, your exposed shoulder, and face. 

Before you could introduce yourself, Bobby came stumbling into the kitchen to see the three of you staring at each other. Bobby grunted and introduced you to Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean, the one who had been staring at you, sent you a charming grin before extending his hand out for you to shake. You took it, feeling the roughness of his palm against yours and how it enveloped your smaller hand. You pulled away before shaking Sam’s. 

From then on, you would run in the Winchesters occasionally, either Bobby sending them your way or vice versa when you guys needed help on hunts. Communication between you and the brothers was scarce since you didn’t want to get attached to them, knowing how this life could turn out for those who did. You weren’t there when Bobby died, having lost contact with them before he did.

You reconnected with the brothers after having been asked by Jody, who you were acquainted with and who had told you Bobby had passed, for some help on a hunt and asked the Winchesters for help. She didn’t know that the three of you knew each other, but it was a pleasant surprise for you when you heard the roar of the Impala pulling into the motel parking lot where you were staying. 

Seeing them was a little awkward at first, but you guys got back into the comfortable rhythm that you once had prior to losing contact with each other. With three heads instead of one, you, Dean, and Sam quickly finished the hunt and went out to the local bar to celebrate. They had filled you in on what had happened with Bobby and everything that happened after that. You were surprised to find out that they had a home base they went back to after they were finished with their hunts. 

You found it a little strange that they called it “The Bunker,” and the whole Men of Letters situation was peculiar, but hey, you knew that Sam and Dean got into a lot of weird shit than the usual hunter. Sam had clocked in early that night, wanting to get some rest, and you and Dean stayed at the bar chatting until they were doing the last calls.

You and Dean had an interesting relationship with one another. Dean made it known from the beginning that he was attracted to you and wanted to sleep with you. He flirted with you constantly and would blush if you would flirt back. But over time, you guys built a tentative friendship with one another before losing contact.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you were attracted to Dean, but you had sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t sleep with Dean Winchester. Even before you had been introduced to him, you had heard that he was a love em and leave them type. You witnessed it multiple times when you would hunt together. It stung each time you saw the satisfied smirk on Dean’s face the morning after when you guys met at the diner before you parted ways. 

But this time around, you were slightly surprised that Dean hadn’t ditched you for the waitress who kept making eyes at him the entire night, and he drove you back to the motel where the two of you were staying. You didn’t want to stop talking to Dean, so you invited him for a nightcap, which ended up with you waking up the next day with a pounding headache, naked and tucked into Dean’s side as he slept soundly.

You started to panic and curse yourself out in your head. You did the thing that you said you wouldn’t do. As you thought about your next move, staring at him, Dean stirred and woke up to find you staring hard at him. His chuckle broke you out of your reverie, and you sent him a small smile, hiding your internal debate of getting up and deciding to try and to act normal was the best course of action. 

It seemed that Dean was able to see through your strained smile since his eyebrows were furrowed with concern before he raised his hand to your cheek and asked if everything was alright. You were going to lie and say everything was fine, but what actually came out of your mouth was the truth and how you weren’t sure where you stood with him after the night you guys had shared. 

Dean’s expression relaxed, his smile soft as his thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek. He opened his mouth to respond, but warm hands rested on your bare hips, making you tense, and your eyes flew open and broke you out of your trip down memory lane. You quickly turned around to meet green eyes filled with mirth, and sparks of desire scattered through his eyes along with the gold flecks. 

You relaxed as Dean smirked, as his gaze traveled down your naked body before meeting your eyes again. “Expecting someone else, sweetheart?” Dean asked with a cocked head. 

“Yeah, I was expecting Sam.” You quipped as you sent him a sarcastic smile. “How did you know that I told him to meet him here with me?” 

“Not funny.” Dean mocked your sarcastic grin before he scowled. He moved his hands to your waist and pulled you closer to him, your arms winding around his shoulders.

You laughed at the grumpy expression on his face, the sound echoing off of the tiled walls. Dean couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching upward at the sound of your laugh. He loved the sound of your laugh, and it never failed to make him smile or feel better when he was feeling off.   

“Anyway,” You said as you calmed down, “Not that I don’t love seeing you here like this,” You moved your eyebrows up and down as you took in Dean’s naked form, “but why are you in here?” 

“I needed to take a shower and you happened to be in here.” Dean said with innocent eyes as he stared at you, his hands squeezing your waist. 

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Right. Doesn’t explain why you’re in the shower I’m using right now.” 

“Can a guy not take a shower with his girl?”

You scoffed at him. “You and I both know that showers with you never end up being just showers.” 

Dean went to respond, but you cut him off. “Nope, not hearing it. I came in here to shower and not have sex with you.” 

Dean pouted at your words before leaning forward, his nose brushing against yours. 

“What if I said please?” 

“Still a no.” 

Dean groaned loudly, throwing his head back, unintentionally thrusting his hips into your stomach, feeling his erection brush against the skin of your stomach. One of your hands fell from his shoulder and down his chest, making Dean’s head snap back to stare at you. You had a sly smile on your face as your hand slowly trailed down his freckled chest, past his stomach, and lingered on the ‘V’ of his hips, getting dangerously close to his cock. You saw Dean swallow thickly as his breath became labored, waiting for your next move. 

“How about this? You let me finish my shower, and I’ll help out with your not-so-little problem.” You brushed the back of your hand against his erection before grasping it and leaning in and kissing Dean’s neck. 

“Okay?” You asked him after pulling away from his neck. You saw his green eyes blown out with lust as he nodded. 

“Words, honey.” You emphasized your words with a squeeze of your hand around his cock.

Dean let a small groan leave his mouth before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, sounds good.”

You smiled at him before kissing him softly against his plush lips. “Good boy.” You murmured against his lips before pulling away from him altogether. You turned back to face the hot water that was spraying against your back to finish your shower, and you smirked to yourself as you heard Dean’s bare feet hurry against the tile and out of the shower room. 

“Ew, Dean! Why don’t you have a towel?!” You heard Sam exclaim in disgust from the hallway, making you giggle loudly at Sam’s misfortune of seeing his brother naked. 

[sturniqlo]

Positive-C.S

summary: y/n and chris find out their expecting a baby

cw: bit angst, fluff, young parent pregnancy, panic attack, crying

an: she's a short one so she's a blurb

masterlist | positive masterlist

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

It's been about a week since Y/n started to feel sick. First, she woke up one day and had the urge to throw up so she ran to the bathroom and threw up everything she had the night prior. She thought nothing of it, maybe the food she had eaten sat the wrong way. Then, certain smells she used to once love made her gag, and yet again run to the bathroom.

Her favorite perfume Chris has gifted her for her twentieth birthday made her nauseous. She couldn't bare the smell on her, so she ran to the bathroom, threw up, took a shower and tossed her perfumed clothes in the washer. During this time, Chris was away in Boston visiting his parents and he had no idea any of this was happening until he facetimed her and saw her pale face.

"Hey ba- woah, you're pale. You feeling okay?" Chris said when he saw his girlfriend's pale face and under eye bags. She shook her head. "No, I've had this stomach bug for the past four days. I can't keep down anything I eat besides water and fruit." She pouts. "Was it what we had for dinner before I left?" He asks, shifting in his bed, worrying for his girlfriend's wellbeing. "I think so, it's messed me up pretty bad."

When Chris returned the following week, she was the same, only a bit better. She was able to keep down more foods like a ham and cheese sandwich, cereal, mac and cheese, and smoothies. The day after Chris had came back, he stayed at Y/n's place and made eggs in the morning. She woke to the smell and threw up in the bathroom. For the next hour, all windows were open to air out the smell. That's when Chris started to get suspicious.

Week three, it had been three weeks that Y/n has been with this mysterious sickness. Chris couldn't help but ask. "Are you sure you're okay? Do we have to go to the doctor?" He asked one day that week. "I'm okay, it's probably just my period, it should be coming any day now." She brought her knees up to her chest. Chris came close to her and wrapped his arms around her. She inhaled the scent of his cologne loving it, which is why she bought it for him on a random day. However, this time when she inhaled his scent, she became nauseous. Y/n pushed him off and ran to her bathroom.

"Hey, you're okay." Chris grabbed her hair and formed it into a makeshift ponytail with the hair tie he had on his wrist as she emptied everything she had in her into the toilet. "You want some water, baby?" He asked her as she flushed the toilet and sat against the shower door. "Please." She said, throwing her head back. Chris went to her kitchen, and opened the fridge grabbing his a cold water. As he closed the fridge, she caught eye of her calendar on the fridge door. blood bath begins :( is marked for the 13th of the month. He quickly pulled out his phone and checked the date.

It was the 22nd. He gasped. He quickly realized he was taking too long so he went back to Y/n. "Here you go." Chris opened the water for her and handed it to her. She had moved to the wall across the sink so he sat down on the floor next to her. "Babe, I don't want to scare you or anything but, are you sure you're not pregnant?" Y/n chokes on her water. "What? No, I'm about to get my period around the thirteenth." She looks at him. "Y/n, it's the twenty second." Her face falls. "No- no it's not." She pats on her pockets for her phone but she doesn't feel it. "Look at the date." Chris pulls his phone out from his pocket. Quickly, she grabs his phone and turns it on looking straight up at the date.

It's the twenty second. She has the same reaction as Chris and gasps. "Chris, how- how did I not notice. Oh my god." She puts her head in her hands. "Hey, hey, hey, it's going to be okay. I'll run to the store down the street and buy a couple of tests okay? Whatever the result is you have the final decision okay? And we'll get through it together." Chris brings her to his chest. "Okay." She manages to squeak out.

Chris run his hands through his hair as he power walks to the Walgreens that is luckily down the street from Y/n apartment complex. Back home, Y/n struggles to walk to the couch. Her mind runs through every possible situation that can happen. It can be positive and Chris can leave her and want nothing to do with her or the bab- No! She stopped herself from that thought. He said they'll get through this together. Her breathing get more uneven as she reaches the couch. She struggles to breathe as the tears stream down her face. She tries her hardest to take deep breaths, in 1,2,3, out 1,2,3. That doesn't help. She looks around her living room and tries to spot five things she can see and say out loud.

"Pic- picture of me and Chris on our one year anniversary. Chris' hoodie on the arm- arm rest. My green rug Chris bought me. Tulips I picked out last week." It starts working, her breathing is finally back to normal and she wipe her sweaty hands on her sweats. She takes a couple of minutes to herself before getting up to distract herself while Chris comes back.

What seemed like hours, only ten minutes had passed, Chris finally walked through the front door with a bag in his hand. "Did you get them?" Y/n run to him. "Yeah, I got multiple." She grabs the bag from him and goes into the bathroom. After peeing on all four sticks, she opens the bathroom door and is met with Chris standing right in front. "Now we wait." She lets him in. She automatically wraps her arms around his middle and her his wrap around her neck. Bending his head down to kiss the top of it. "Chris, promise you won't leave me if it's a positive." She lifts her head off of his chest.

"Baby, I promise with all my heart, I will never, okay? Like I said we're in this together." He reassured her. During the next five minutes, Chris tries to distract her, talking about random things. Telling her random facts about animals Matt had told him the other day. "I think it's time, Chris." They unwrap their arms from one another. "Okay." They both grab two and Chris counts down. "We flip them at one okay?" She nods "3, 2, 1." They flip them.

||, Pregnant, +

"Holy shit, I'm pregnant." Y/n places the sticks back down on the sink and begins to well up with tears. "Come here." Chris places the two he had down and opens his arms up for her. "Chris, what are we going to do. We only just- just turned twenty." She cried. "We'll figure it out, alright." He spoke into her hair. "Do you want to keep it?" He asks. "I- Yes, I want to." She looks up at him and slightly smiles and he smiles too. "We're having a baby." He says.

"We're having a baby." She confirms.

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

do we want a mini series on this??

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Record Store)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You woke up to the smell of bacon, your mouth already watering as you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the sleep. You stretched out, snuggling further into the warm bed, Tara shifting as she cuddled closer. You looked down, seeing her still sound asleep, you smiled at peace with finally having met Sam and her friends. Sneaking around with her was fun but officially meeting everyone was better, they were so nice, even though Sam was still intimidating you knew you could trust her.

“Morning,” Tara mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Is that bacon?” She pushed herself up, looking around as if she’d be able to see the bacon.

You giggled, pushing your head further into the pillow. Tara hovered above you, looking down at you with a soft smile that hadn’t left her lips since the two of you fell asleep. “Chad did say they’d be back for breakfast,” you said.

“Guess we better get up then, besides Sam isn’t a half bad cook.”

The two of you rolled out of bed after a few more minutes of cuddling. You were both hungry but neither of you had the the desire to leave the warm comfort of the bed. It was getting colder, you wanted to go to the record store, but you didn’t have a desire to be dragged from store to store with Anika with it being so chilly, not when you could stay inside cozied up with Tara where it was warm.

The two of you finally made your way out of the room and into the kitchen where Sam was flipping the last of the breakfast onto a plate. “Morning,” she greeted with a soft smile. “How’d you sleep?”

You sighed, remembering that you had woken up from a nightmare, Tara made it easier to sleep but the nightmares still came. After your talk with Sam, you had gone back to bed and slept peacefully the rest of the night. “Better,” you said your voice still raspy with sleep. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

Tara dragged you to the dining table, refusing to let go of your hand. You rubbed your eyes, thinking maybe you were dreaming at the spread before you. There was bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, biscuits, and a couple boxes of cereal.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Sam said, a light blush decorating her cheeks.

“It all looks amazing,” you said, smiling, as you took your seat at the table.

“She also eats like a five-year-old,” Tara commented, giving you a pointed look as you had a piece of bacon in your mouth. “Would eat pizza rolls and Dino nuggets for every meal if they could.”

You pouted as you finished chewing your bacon. “They’re simple and good,” you defended. “What’s wrong with that?”

“You eat like a child.”

“Sometimes I make mashed potatoes.”

“From a box.”

“Shut up.” You grabbed another piece of bacon, silently chewing on it as you looked down at your plate.

“Good morning!” Chad shouted, flinging the door open as he entered.

“It’s too early for this,” Mindy said, rubbing her temple as she curled into Anika’s side.

“Holy shit!” Chads eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the table of food. He rushed forward, grabbing a plate and began loading it up with everything.

“Damn, Sam,” Mindy said, her eyes wide as well. “Why don’t you ever do this for us?” She chuckled as she grabbed a seat, bringing Anika with her.

After everyone finished breakfast, leaving absolutely nothing left, the six of you headed out, making your way to the record store. There were several record stores downtown and you had been to all of them of course but you had a favorite. The one you liked got all the new vinyl’s when they were released and regularly got in new inventory of older and hard to find albums. The store also had a cat that roamed around and if you were lucky, it let you pet it.

The little bell jingled as you pushed the door open, the sight brought a smile to your face. There were rows upon rows of vinyl’s, all alphabetized or separated by genre. There was a rack up front right by the register filled with everything new. You knew nothing you wanted came out recently, but you still browsed the new releases just in case you missed something. Chad wandered off into one corner, flipping through vinyl of the type of music he liked. Mindy dragged Anika to another corner, but Anika was more than happy to follow.

Tara held your hand, your fingers intertwined as you weaved your way through the rows. There weren’t many people in the store, it was a Saturday, but they hadn’t even been open an hour. You had been here enough times that you didn’t need to look at everything else as you made your way to the section you wanted. You let out a sigh at seeing the little card that said ‘Soundtracks’. Other music was good but getting a vinyl of your favorite movie score or, better yet, a video game score was your favorite. You had most of your favorite scores already but there were older ones you still kept an eye out for. They got old stock in regularly; you never knew when someone would sell their vinyl collection and one you have been after for years would make its way here.

Sam was slowly walking through the aisles, trying not to hover but clearly out of place and sticking close to Tara. You didn’t mind, you were happy Sam seemed to like you so far and that she willingly came out with all of you. Sam had her hands shoved in her pockets as her eyes glanced around the room. You saw her flinch out of the corner of your eye, when you looked to make sure she was okay you saw the little orange store cat rubbing its head against her legs. You smiled, silently chuckling to yourself, the cat loved to jump on the tables and walk around while people were looking but he didn’t usually go right up to people, especially not new people.

“You’re lucky,” you said. “It took me three months of coming here once a week to get him to let me even pet him,” you nodded at the little orange cat.

Sam smiled, she was about to reach down and pet the little guy when he jumped up on the rack of vinyl near her. He perked his little head up, his paws at the edge of the rack as he tried to reach Sam, to force her to pet him. Sam complied and began running her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ears until he lifted his head up, making her scratch under his chin.

“Does this mean we can get a cat?” Tara asked, smiling innocently at Sam.

“Tara,” Sam sighed. She gave her sister a tired look, she opened her mouth to probably deny Tara about a pet but was cut off when the record cat stood on its hind legs and placed its front paws on her chest. She faced the cat, smiling down at it again as she ran her hands down his back again. “I’ll think about it,” she finally mumbled.

Tara didn’t say anything else, she just gave a wide smile and leaned into your side. She squeezed your hand as she cuddled closer to you. You shook your head smiling at her, you knew Tara always wanted a pet of some sort, but her mom always said no and even if Sam wanted a pet, it wasn’t convenient living in the city, in a small apartment. Sam probably didn’t realize saying she’d think about it was basically a yes to Tara, now Sam wouldn’t hear the end of it until she gave an official yes.

With your free hand you flipped through the various soundtracks, most of which you either had or were from something you had never seen before. You paused, untangling your hand from Tara’s as quickly as possible, ignoring the pout on her face, as you pulled out an album. You smiled widely; you were sure your eyes were sparkling with childlike glee. You had found it, you had finally found it, it was The Last of Us soundtrack. You had the second one, you had the one from the show, but you had missed out on the one from the first game. You flipped through some more, your excitement reigniting, maybe you’d get lucky and find more than one of the ones you’ve been searching for.

You didn’t find anything else that you had been dying to have but you pulled out the Ghost of Tsushima Iki Island soundtrack. You had been putting off getting it because it was expensive, but more time was passing, and you didn’t want to wait too long and end up missing it. You sighed and stuck in under your arm with the other one.

“Don’t you already have that?” Tara asked, wrapping her arm around yours as she intertwined your hands again. You looked down, smiling, Tara was making it as difficult as possible for you to let go of her hand again.

“I have the Ghost of Tsushima soundtrack,” you answered. “For the main game. This,” you nodded to the vinyl in your hands, “is the Iki Island soundtrack.” Tara raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were insane. “Iki Island was an expansion.” Tara continued to only blink at you. “They’re completely different!”

Tara opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted when Chad came stumbling towards you guys, nearly dropping all the stuff in his arms. “This place is amazing!” he said, looking around at everything as he tried to re-situate his hands.

All three of you laughed at Chad struggling. “Are you serious?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked the boy up and down.

Chad looked down at the pile in his arms. “Well, I like this music,” he nodded to the stack of vinyl’s in his arm. “And I need a record player,” he nodded to his other hands. He had a small record player tucked under his arm and it looked like a nice one, probably over a hundred bucks. “Otherwise, me buying the vinyl would just be crazy.”

The three of you shook your heads as you watched Chad make his way to the front counter. He somehow managed to set everything on the counter without dropping a thing. The three of you made your way up behind him, watching as the owner rang up the record player then each of the vinyl, which Chad managed to find several of.

“Your total is three-hundred and forty-two dollars,” the owner said once he had everything scanned.

“Holy shit,” Tara said, looking up at Chad with wide eyes. “Are you insane?”

Chad furrowed his brow as he looked down at Tara while he struggled to fish out his wallet.

“How are you going to afford that?” Sam asked. “You don’t even have a job.”

“Emergency credit card,” Chad answered, holding up the little blue credit card. He smiled as he handed it to the man behind the counter. The man sighed taking the card before swiping it.

“Mom is going to kill you,” Mindy said, joining them at the counter with Anika in tow. “That’s meant for food and necessities.”

“Yeah, and you going to the movies last week was a necessity?”

Mindy crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “The movies isn’t three-hundred dollars.”

“Tickets are over fifteen!”

“That’s not the point!”

You shook your head, pushing your way to the front of the counter while the twins argued. Tara and Sam seemed to already be ignoring them, you had a feeling that it was an hourly occurrence for them.

“I’ll take this,” Anika said, sliding next to you as she plopped The Last of Us vinyl out of your hands. You opened your mouth to stop her, but she didn’t let you get a word out as she held up a hand to silence you. “I told you I would buy you a soundtrack for hugging you to tightly.” The owner behind the counter gave the two of you a weird side glance but continued to bag Chad’s vinyl’s. “So, I am buying this for you.” She gently shoved you away, putting herself at the front of the line and smiling at the man as she sat down your vinyl and the one, she picked out.

“How don’t you already have Hamilton?” you nodded to the vinyl she was buying for herself. “You love that play. You’ve made me watch it over a dozen times.”

“It’s expensive,” she said, holding out her card for the man. “I mean it’s Hamilton!” you chuckled, shaking your head at her. She wasn’t wrong, it was a bit more pricey than the average album. “And there’s a sale going on, so I have to grab it.”

“Of course.” You made your way back to the front as Anika grabbed her bag of stuff. You handed over your vinyl and card as the man rang it up.

“Just be prepared when you come over,” Anika said, shifting her bag around as she pulled out the album she bought for you so you could slip it in your own bag. “I will be listening to nothing else of the next six months.”

“I know how you are.” You smiled at the owner, thanking him as you grabbed the bag of your stuff.

The twins continued to argue as the six of you left the record store. Anika was quick to point to a costume shop across the street that she literally dragged Mindy to. The other four of you followed close behind them. Tara took the bag with your purchases, carrying it in her other hand so she could still keep ahold of you, and you didn’t have to carry a bag in your injured hand, even though you were down to just the brace it tended to ache after a while.

You didn’t know how long you were in the costume shop but when you all left it was the afternoon and Anika had several bundles of fabric and other types of material for costumes. She struggled to carry all of her bags, looking at Mindy with puppy dog eyes to try and get her girlfriend to help out. Mindy scoffed and continued to walk, saying that since she bought everything, she could carry it.

As the six of you made your way down the street you hit up some more shops. There were a few card or sport memorabilia shops Chad wanted to go in, that all of you begrudgingly followed him into since he was going to the stores you wanted. You were sure by the end of the trip Chad had spent near a thousand dollars, all on his emergency credit card. You didn’t necessarily agree that going to the movies was an emergency, but you did agree with Mindy, Chad would certainly be hearing from their mom.

For a late lunch you all stopped at a little Chinese restaurant, laughing and joking around about the day and the amount of money Chad spent. Every time someone brought up one of Chad’s purchases, he was quick to defend himself and explain why it was crucial he bought it today. You didn’t know everything he bought besides the stuff at the record store, but he left with bags full in every sports shop you all entered, and he had more than one jersey in his hand. You might not have known much about sports, but you were aware jerseys were expensive and you were sure being the sports guy that he was that Chad wouldn’t settle for less than the nice ones.

When you finally made it back to the Carpenters apartment, Tara pulled you down onto the couch, cuddling up to you as she rested her head on your shoulder. None of you said a word, just enjoying the silence as Chad struggled to open his record player, saying he needed to test it out and make sure everyone was educated on good music. When he had it set up, he opened one of his records and music quickly filled the once quiet apartment.

Chad jumped to his feet and instantly began dancing, he tried to pull Sam into a dance, but she quickly found herself needing to go to the kitchen. Chad waved her off, not letting it kill his mood as he continued to dance alone. Mindy laughed and shook her head at her brother, pouting once Anika got off her lap and took pity on Chad, joining him in his dancing.

You laughed and had fun with Tara and her friends. You had just met Sam, Mindy, and Chad officially the day before but once you got Sam’s approval, they were quick to welcome you into the group. You talked with them and teased Chad along with them as if you had always known them. It got so late that Tara convinced Sam to let you stay the night again, this time the others took up the offer to stay as well.

While Tara dragged you to her room for the night Anika, Mindy, and Chad were getting themselves situated in the living room. Mindy took one end of the couch while Anika took the other since it wasn’t a pullout couch. Sam tossed Chad some extra blankets and pillows and he made himself a little nest on the floor.

“They like you,” Tara whispered as she played with your hair in the darkness of her room.

“I like them,” you whispered back.

“Just remember you’re my girlfriend first,” she sat up and through the dark you knew she was giving you a pointed look.

“Don’t worry,” you leaned up and kissed her. “I won’t choose them over you.”

“Good,” she cuddled back into your side.

“Unless Anika gets tickets to Hamilton,” you added. “Then you’re on your own that night.”

Tara lightly smacked your shoulder, careful not to hit any of your injuries. You lightly chuckled, wrapping your injured arm around her as best as you could. She continued to snuggle into your side with the help of you pulling her as close as you could. Your ribs ached from the pressure, but you quickly got used to it as your body slowly settled down.

“Love you,” you mumbled into Tara’s hair. You heard her mumble a reply, but sleep had already mostly taken her, with you following soon after.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 37

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 34, part 35, part 36

The house is quiet when Dustin wakes up. Which isn’t unusual here. With how big the house is, and how little people lived in it, it was always somewhat quiet. But there were more people here than normal, so he was expecting it to be louder.

They must all still be asleep.

He wanders out of the guest bedroom that he claimed for when he stayed over. Down the hall to the guest bathroom. Hearing the gentle snores from Steve’s bedroom. Letting Dustin know that he’s still there.

Wayne bumps into him when Dustin leaves the bathroom. Softly apologizing before shutting the door. The shower starting to run.

Dustin goes to the kitchen. Thinking he could eat some of the cereal that he likes but his mom doesn’t buy that much. A box of it always in Steve’s pantry.

The kitchen’s not empty when Dustin walks in. Nancy sitting at the island, drinking coffee while reading a book.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” he says. Digging through the pantry to find the cereal.

“Me and Robin stayed over last night.”

Dustin’s used to Nancy being a part of his life. He was his best friend’s sister, after all. But that was like a completely different section. Tied to certain places in his life. This was the different sect of his life. Steve and Robin, until spring break, were one half. The party was the other. Now they seem to be coming together a lot more.

Not that he’s complaining. He likes it when the people he loves get along. Act as one big group instead of tiny separate ones. It takes some getting used to.

Robin comes down the stairs when the cereal in Dustin’s bowl gets soggy. Immediately beelining for the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. Making it to her liking. Not saying anything until half of it’s drained.

“The fact that you look that good this early in the morning should be a crime,” she says toward Nancy’s direction.

Nancy who was completely dressed, hair pulled back with some clips. Carefully composed like she always is. While Robin stands in what Dustin’s sure is one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of shorts with the drawstring taken out. Hair tangled and puffy.

“Not my fault you are the worst morning person.”

The minute those words are said, Wayne comes down the stairs, gets himself a cup of coffee, and immediately walks back out again. Nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I can’t be worse than that,” Robin jokes.  

Robin sets her coffee down, going to root around in the pantry before emerging with a pack of strawberry pop-tarts.

“You are not.” Nancy finishes her coffee. Going over to the sink to wash out the mug. “Is Steve still asleep, he’s normally up by now.”

“He was when I left,” Robin mutters over a mouthful of a pop-tart. Too impatient to wait for them both to be toasted. One in the toaster while she eats the other one dry.

Dustin’s stopped questioning why Robin and Steve share a bed sometimes a long time ago. They have some weird friendship that he will never understand.

“I saw him take some migraine pills last night,” she continues. “I think another big one is coming.”

Nancy sighs. “It has been like a month since the last one.”

“Yeah, I just thought it would start getting better again. Like last time.”

“Well last time he wasn’t strangled twice and had to get a blood transfusion.”

Dustin doesn’t always know what’s going on with Steve’s health. Always kept in the dark for longer than he should. Definitely longer than he wants to be. It was something, if he had the direct control over, he would learn about immediately. So he could track it. Know when to chill down and ask someone else for a ride.

But instead, he’s none the wiser about Steve’s migraines. Always missing “the big one” that apparently happens every month. Because no one ever tells him about it until Steve is MIA for a few days. Called off work to sit in his bedroom, alone. No one but Robin coming over to make sure that he doesn’t die.

Which sure, that one makes sense, he guesses. Who else, other than Robin, would do that? Or who would Steve feel comfortable with doing that?

It would just make Dustin feel better if he knew about them. So he wasn’t so out of loop. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore who saw Steve as this badass figure higher than everyone else. He knew that there were debilitating cracks under the surface. Knows that sometimes, Steve can’t be the one to fight.

And that was ok. Someone else could take the load for a while. Watch over everyone. It didn’t need to just be Steve’s job. It could be someone else’s job for a while.

A door creaks open down the hall. Thuds of crutches echoing through. Before a second door opens and shuts.

Eddie was awake. Out of the hospital. Here. It still didn’t feel real.

Dustin finally gets up to pour the tinted milk down the drain and wash out his bowl. Adding it to the dish rack, but not leaving the kitchen. Waiting to see Eddie. Proof that he’s really here.

A few minutes later, Eddie comes down the hall. Wincing slightly with every step. “Morning,” he says with a grunt. Sliding onto one of the barstools.

“Morning,” Nancy replies. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee,” Eddie says almost immediately. “And probably some water, so I can take my meds. Has Wayne been down yet, I’m pretty sure he still has all of them.”

Nancy sets a cup of coffee in front of Eddie. With a small container of sugar and the creamer.

“I can go ask him,” Dustin suggests. Happy to help. Already moving out of the kitchen before anyone can stop him.

Lucky for him, Wayne isn’t hard to find. Halfway down the stairs in different clothes. “You need something?”

“Yeah, Eddie was looking for his meds.”

Wayne nods, turning around and heading back up the stairs. He comes back down with a few brown paper bags, each one with a different slip of paper stapled to the outside. They walk back to the kitchen.

“You need to eat something before you take these,” Wayne cuts to the chase. “Coffee won’t cut it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Hands shaking slightly as lifts the mug to his lips. “What do you have?” he asks in the direction of Nancy and Robin.

“Pop-tarts, cereal, I think some bagels, if not that then toast, fancy jams,” Robin rattles off, the list getting longer.

“Some toast is fine.”

Robin nods. Grabbing some bread from the bag on the counter and popping it in the toaster.

Steve finally makes his way downstairs. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks miserable. He bypasses the group of people in his kitchen, heading straight to the cabinet for a glass. Filling it with water and pulling a pill bottle from his pocket.

Robin gets close to him. Bumping her shoulder against his. Steve shakes his head, slowly. She nods and goes to close the kitchen blinds.

Eddie stares at Steve like he isn’t allowed to look. A mix of concern and confusion in his expression. Only interrupted when Nancy slides the plate of toast to him, asking if he wanted anything on it.

“Robin said there were fancy jams?”

Something reminiscent of a scoff comes from Steve. “They’re not that fancy,” he slurs.

Robin snorts. “It’s not generic. Therefore fancy.”

Nancy pulls out a raspberry jam from the fridge. “My family uses the same kind. It’s not fancy.”

Everyone keeps looking over at Steve. Waiting for him to move. He just stands there, white knuckling the countertop. Robin tries to touch his arm, but he shrugs it off.

“Give it a second,” he mutters under his breath.

She nods again. Pulling more bread out of the bag and sticking it in the toaster. The setting lighter than he normally likes it.

The only sound that happens in the next few minutes is the slight crunch of Eddie eating, and the pop of the toaster. Robin gets some butter out of the fridge and puts some on each slice. Careful not to rip through the pieces.

With a deep exhale, Steve turns around. Leaning against the counter behind him and grabbing the plate she hands him. Ripping apart the toast into small bites.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie looks surprised that he asked him anything. “Good. Much better than a hospital bed. Bigger too, that was nice.”

“Sorry I didn’t have anything better for breakfast. I was planning on making something, but-.” He trails off. The obvious staying unsaid.

“That’s fine. I don’t eat much in the morning’s anyway.”

Steve nods. Placing his plate on the counter. About a half a slice of the toast left. “I won’t be around that much to help you get settled in. I was supposed to close tonight, but I’ll probably end up calling out.”

“If you’re about to apologize for that, don’t.” Eddie stares at Steve with an expression that Dustin can’t quite read. “You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Steve pauses. Taking a second to stop himself, reset what he was going to say. “If you need anything, Rob should know where it is. And if not, I’ll just be in my room.”

All Eddie does is reply with a small nod. Then Steve is walking out of the kitchen with Robin in tow.

(i forgot to post yesterday because i got fixated on a new knitting project, no joke i worked on it for like six hours straight)

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[lostintransist]

Boys' Home - Part 1

Do I know where the hell this is going? No. I'm gonna do it anyways. I am a good enough writer to figure it out.

You don't know how you ended up like this. Sigh okay, you do know how you ended up as the unofficial boys' home this side of the the mountain ridge. You take in one boy who escaped from the cult miles into the woods and suddenly the surrounding counties are dumping them on you as they find them.

It helps that your great aunt left you her big old house when she passed. Helped even more that she left you a small stipend to keep up on the property taxes and the maintance. None of your cousins would talk to you after the will gave both to you and left them with only baubles. It wasn't like you were ever close, spread across the country like dandelion seeds flung on the wind. It stung none the less.

Seth had been six when you found him. He had stumbled right into your path as you had been on your leisurely walk. Breaking down crying as he knelt on the packed earth path, you could only stare. The dark crust around his nails and the hollowness of his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. This wouldn't be the first child found, dead or alive, in this part of the woods.

Crouching down next to him you slid your backpack off your back. Scrounging through it quickly you pulled out an electrolight drink and the trail mix you had packed for yourself.

"Hi kid, can you eat this for me?"

The clean streaks of his tears stab at your heart. His big brown eyes are desolate.

"I need someone to eat this for me, the chocolate makes my tummy hurt. Can you help?" You offer up the trailmix again.

He takes the bag as if you would snatch it back at any point. The tears in your heart weep for him. Waiting until he has had a few handfuls of the food you offer the opened drink. This he grabs fiercely sucking down too much too fast.

"Whoa, whoa there friend," your hand shoots out tipping the lip of the bottle from his mouth. "If you drink too fast it will make your tummy hurt."

The glare he gives you is truly impressive, one of the best you have ever seen.

"How about this. You hold onto both of these, but why not have some the next time we stop. I need you to come with me, okay?" You put on the smile you learned from watching preschool teachers at the school coax children through the doors. Even though you taught high schoolers the communities around the area were small enough that all the children were bussed into one central school. A big old building from the seventies housed everyone well enough.

He stood, the thinness of his frame igniting a rage that would have burned the whole forest down and the cult with it. He followed you, docile even with more tears streaking down his face, all the way to the car. You buckled him in and drove straight to the police station.

Sherriff Pallas was less helpful than a deer with chronic wasting.

"Well, your options are to take him home and wait to see if anyone claims him or I have to turn him over to the state, and we all know how the state takes care of kids like him."

You did know. You doubted there was a record of this child anywhere, the cult kept off the grid. It was doubtful he could read, and since he hadn't spoken a word to you didn't know enough about him to even guess at his education.

Rolling your lips between your teeth you stared at the man who only won the election because he was friends with the mayor.

"This is the reason a murderer could live here and no one would be the wiser Pallas."

The mustache twitched as he plucked the insult from your words. Not giving him time to respond you herded your new charge back to the car. A call to the local foster mom had secured two weeks' worth of clothes for the kid and a trip to the grocery store ensured that he would have cereal to munch on if you could get nothing else in him.

No one ever came for him. Eventually, he started to talk and open up. His name was Seth and his birthday was in the winter. You decided that he wanted a February birthday. He chose the 23rd. By the time school started back up you had registered him for a birth certificate with the help of the helpful woman at the county records department, and got him started on vaccines with his pediatrician.

Life moved on like it does, slowly Reggie (10), Sam (6), and Darren (6.5) joined you and Seth in the old house. You were listed as legal guardian for each of them and took that role seriously. You boys, as you called them, roamed the trees around the house until sunset on any day that wasn't cold enough to freeze them to death.

The third day of summer break you are hanging the sheets on the line. The first week off school always saw you deep cleaning the house as much as you could. Screams of children have your head snapping to the trees. Those were not screams of joy and laughter, but of fear.

They stumble out of the leaves before you can take two steps away from the line.

"Mum!" They all called you mum, said it was easier that way. You didn't object, secretly loving the trust of the title.

Sam, ever the boisterous one, got his words out first. "Mum! There are men in the woods! They are fixing the old house!"

The other boys layered their thoughts on top of his words. The old house was the dilapidated house almost a mile from your own. The boys were not allowed to go inside for fear of the floor giving way.

"Boys!" You raised your voice and your hands in a calm-down gesture, "One at a time please, you know my ears don't work good with loud noises."

"There are men! At the house!" Darren spits these words out before his brothers can jump in.

Seth next, "They were carrying out old furniture and piling it in a dumpster." Ever practical your oldest told you what he believed to be the most important information first. They weren't allowed in the building, so why were the men?

"Okay, so why the screaming?" You look from face to face, settling on Reggie.

"There were three men we could see, but then there was a skeleton in front of us and we all screamed and ran."

Brows nearly touching you tried to logic out what he could possibly mean by that. When the others nodded aggressively in agreement you decided you would need to take a look. Hands settled on your hips; you sighed and gestured for them to follow you.

The walk through the woods felt extremely ordinary, except for the boys clinging to your shirt and one onto your not-torn back pocket. They chattered and fought as they normally do until the house came into sight.

Well, they hadn't been completely wrong. There was a skeleton, but it appeared to only be a skull face plate in the hands of a monster of a man. He caught sight of you first and called over his shoulder causing another three men to appear like mice when you kicked the corn sack.

It looked like you had new neighbors.

Part 2

Masterlist

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - A Day With Alastor

A/N – Well, it took a while but I finally felt up to writing a bit. There’s still a lot of sadness at home right now, but I’ll try to keep writing.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

TAG LIST: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @sseleniaa @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @astrxwitch @yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe @koirb @usernameunavailable2 @lavenderkita @kannakanan @mcueveryday @amarokofficial @mbruben-stein @tyrythewolf @lasagna-501 @bizzardvark @firefirefeline @kaylanotkk @missme-07 @memontica @angelsdemonsmonsters @tj4shy @midoria-kinnie @meesachan @fusehoundshipper @velvettenoctus @crescent-z @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @rosiescannibalwife @skylerbutterfly @hamthepan @latersgaters-steven @kryptidkova @sleepyhead-number27 @cherry-4200 @harcourtholmesii @alastorandluciferspouse @holyspacething @kedelman24 @becsmarvel @vash-yuu @k-n0-x @radio-leigh @tamaki-simp @wolfdaddyalphasworld @http-dilflvr @cosmic-lavender

MALE VERSION HERE

GN / NB VERSION HERE

You woke up in Angel’s bed. The previous night, you two had laughed, danced, ordered pizza and stayed tucked away in the safe haven of his bedroom. In that time, Angel had been reminded of how much his life had improved recently, and how precious his new friends were, and you had allowed yourself to relax, once again reverting to your previous human appearance. Yet, after revealing how you had died twice in a night, the change to look human felt more like a choice rather than the repression of painful emotions; you still had no love for your Demonic appearance, but you felt it wouldn’t be so terrible if it was seen among friends, or if you wanted a break from the low thrum of energy it took to keep your human façade in place.

You groaned tiredly as you pushed yourself up, never having been a morning person, and upon looking through the slats of the shaded window, you saw that it was very early indeed.

Angel had already left, and you made a mental note to call him in the evening when you knew he would be done with work. Despite the fun respite the two of you had shared, Angel would undoubtedly have a terrible day as Valentino’s plaything.

Stretching, you got up and headed downstairs for breakfast, surprised when you didn’t see anyone at the breakfast bar. Technically, the breakfast bar was just the regular bar, but since Husk typically spent his mornings sleeping in, everyone had adopted it as the breakfast bar and so there were always boxes of cereal on it until noon.

Thinking about it, you realised that since Charlie and Vaggie weren’t there to greet you, Angel Dust had likely talked them through the previous night and reassured them that everything was going to be okay. It had undoubtedly been a tearful reunion for Charlie. Angel Dust would have laughed and played it off like it was nothing, though he would have secretly been touched that Charlie cared enough to cry over someone like him, and Vaggie would have been left to care for Charlie and steer her in the direction of her daily duties.

Absently, you reached for a box and began pouring yourself a bowl of Glutton-O’s. There was a thunk in the bowl as a dead cockroach pinned to a cheap ring of plastic fell into it. You hummed at Nifty’s idea of a breakfast prize, though you didn’t scoff at it. Instead, you opted to wear it, just in case the psychotic little maid was around. If she was, you would make her happy, and if she wasn’t, you could always throw it away when you were far from the Hotel.

Despite claiming the prize, you opted not to eat the tainted cereal, getting up to leave instead.

“Ah, (Y/N), good morning,” Alastor greeted you energetically as if he had only just spotted you when in reality he had been waiting patiently for you to awaken and head downstairs.

“Morning Alastor,” You replied warmly, used to his sudden appearances.

“I didn’t know you were back in our wonderful home. Tell me, was it trouble in Paradise with Lucifer?” His head lurched to the side and his grin became more malicious as he mentioned his rival’s name, though he was back to his default expression a moment later when you replied.

“Christ on a stick, Al. You make it sound like we’re a couple or something.” You shook your head, chuckling, “No, everything’s fine between me and Charlie’s dad. I just came over to visit last night. I’ll be going soon though.”

“Going? Oh my. Well, I can’t let you go without first ensuring you’ve had an enchanting day out. How would you feel about joining me on my morning constitutional?”

You smiled and got up, straightening your crumpled clothes. “Sure, I could do with a walk.”

“Wonderful!” Alastor stamped his cane to the floor, and your outfit transformed into one more fitting for a trip to Cannibal Town.

“Oh,” You hummed, glancing down at the new outfit. You weren’t offended; Alastor liked his travelling companions to look their best and to be honest, you had needed a fresh change of clothes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” He replied brightly.

Then, Alastor offered you his arm, a rare gesture seeing as he didn’t liked to be touched, and after escorting you out of the hotel, the two of you separated, walking side by side.

You had been to Cannibal Town only twice in the past. The first time was because that was where you arrived upon your death. The second time, you were running from the carnage caused by some loan sharks wherein you had been caught in the crossfire. At the time, you had been dressed so poorly that the inhabitants of the elegant town had chased you to the border, trying to take a bite out of you.

Since then, you hadn’t been back. However, seeing as Alastor was escorting you and since you were now dressed to match the high standards Cannibal Town held, you felt safe in going there.

All those who passed by you and Alastor stopped to bow or tip their hats in due reverence to the Overlord.

“So…” You started, “Is this your territory?”

Alastor threw back his head and laughed, “Ha-ha-ha, my territory? No, no. This wonderful patch of Hell belongs to my good friend, Rosie. Now there’s a fine Lady, if you’ve ever met one.” He hummed happily, “Indeed, they don’t make them like her anymore. I’d introduce the two of you, but I have it on good authority that she is currently away attending business.”

With that, Alastor led you to some of the finer boutiques of the Town. He snapped his fingers and the attendees rushed to his side, crowding him, and pushing you out somewhat. You shrugged your shoulders and began looking around at the many wonderful clothes surrounding you.

You had seen old films wherein boutiques like this once existed, with attendants and fine boxes tied with perfectly curled ribbons. Until now, they had seemed to be a thing of the past, but one good thing about Hell was that the past was all around you, and should you want a taste of something more modern, you could always catch up with a bit of Vox-tech, ensuring the best of both worlds.

You heard the sharp static screech that meant Alastor was offended and turned to find him gesturing at you.

The salespeople who previously crowded him were suddenly surrounding you.

“Alastor, what’s going on?” You asked uncertainly.

“Well, my darling,” He grinned devilishly, “Call this my treat. It’s rare that I have someone travel with me so willingly and I do find it ever so nice to have a passion project these days. So, these fine people are ready to bow to your every whim. Clothes, pearls, a bottle of the finest Champagne, you name it and they will bring it to you. In fact-” Alastor clapped his hands lightly and suddenly a tiny imp rushed to his side, struggling under the weight of the ice bucket he held above his head.

Alastor waited as another hired imp hurried over to pour two flutes of Brut Imperial Moet & Chandon Champagne, handing one glass to Alastor and forcing the other into your hand.

Alastor took a sip and smacked his lips together, eliciting a satisfied sigh, “Ah, 1911, a fine vintage. So, a new wardrobe then?”

“Oh, Alastor, I- I couldn’t,” You said sheepishly as a Cannibal Tailor began taking your measurements, holding a tape measure against your leg.

You tried to walk back to Alastor but were restrained when the tailor hooked the tape around your waist.

“Nonsense, I insist.” Alastor chuckled.

“No, really. I didn’t come here to get anything from you.”

“Exactly! You don’t want anything from me, and that’s precisely why you shall have everything. I do ever so enjoy gifting my friends, especially those humble enough to try and deny me my eccentricities.”

You tried to argue further, but it quickly became an exercise in futility. No matter what happened, you would not be able to convince Alastor to change his mind. So, you gave in, and in doing so, you ended up having one of the best days of your afterlife.

That day, you felt like you were a part of a movie montage. You were rushed about into changing rooms to try on several outfits tailored to you, your face was peppered with makeup, attendants were constantly by your side, gushing over you and offering mimosas or whatever else your heart desired (though, you avoided the finger sandwiches filled with actual human fingers, or any other food, seeing as you were afraid of what might be in it.)

Overall, you knew that this kind of attention would be too much if you were constantly plied with it, but for a short while, it was fun, and you were happy to let yourself be spoiled.

Finally, Alastor decided he had given you enough and offered to take you out for afternoon tea, which you happily agreed to as long as there were some non-cannibal options.

Alastor rested a hand over his heart as if offended, “Oh, you non-cannibals don’t know the kind of flavours you are missing, but if you insist, I promise to take you to one of the tamer venues in town.”

He waved the attendants away, leaving your new belongings to a Demon who would have them transported directly into your room.

When the two of you sat down outside of the Insani-Tea tea house that overlooked the pavilion in the central plaza, Alastor sighed contentedly. He picked up his cup and swirled it around airily, taking a look at the scenery as he changed the topic from the previous ones about the hotel, “This has been quite a lovely day if I do say so myself.”

You smiled happily, resting your hands around your tea cup and relishing the gentle warmth, “It has. Thank you, Alastor. I needed a nice day like this.”

“Hm? So, life with our all-powerful Satan hasn’t been all you imagined.”

You chuckled as Alastor caught your eye, “Well, it was all Charlie’s idea, and you know what she’s like when she gets a thought into her head.”

“Indeed. A very determined young lady.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You’re not happy, then?”

You took a moment to contemplate the question, “Honestly? I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in a very long time. It’s… hard sometimes to be in such a new place when I felt so at home in the hotel, but I think that Charlie might be on the right track when it comes to Lucifer.

Granted, her methods are… Well, she’s a real ballbuster when it comes to her ideals on friendship and the like, but I think that if her father could see what she’s trying to do and make a connection with people like us then he would see that Hell isn’t just one big punishment and that he and his family did manage to build something sort of good here.”

At the mention of Sinners as a Collective, Alastor’s grin became darker and more sinister in nature, as if he didn’t approve of your placement of him and the other Sinners on the same level, though, distracted as you were, you missed his disapproval and sense of superiority. He however didn’t miss the way your smile softened when you mentioned Lucifer’s success.

It wasn’t love. Of that, Alastor was certain, but if he nudged you in the right direction, you could probably fall for that blonde idiot, and if that happened, and if Lucifer somehow also found feelings for you, Alastor could use you to manipulate Lucifer.

Like all of Alastor’s plans, this would take time and a lot of work, but the reward would be great. With time, he would be the new ruler of Hell, and that was a day he sorely looked forward to.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that our darling Charlie was right in her hunch,” He said genially. “You should continue to work with Lucifer. I’m sure it would be beneficial for everyone.”

 “We’ll see,” You agreed, taking a sip of your tea.

Lucifer paced back and forth in the Pride Parlor where you usually spent your afternoons. Where were you? You had been missing all day.

He folded his arms tightly against his chest as he paced. Had he upset you the night before? What was he thinking? Of course he had! You had told him how you died, and now… Now, what? Had you run away? Should he call Charlie?

Lucifer didn’t know what to do. He didn’t own you, and while you had claimed him as your friend, he had never reciprocated in kind.

The sound of the door opening caught Lucifer’s attention and he looked up hopefully, but it was only Spick closely followed by Span, each of the snakes holding feather dusters and getting to work cleaning the room. Lucifer watched as Span dusted the fireplace mantle, his eyes travelling upward to a portrait of him and Lilith together; it was one of the earlier pieces he had commissioned from an awful Sinner, Salvador Dali; the artist’s punishment for selling his soul to an Overlord had been that whenever he was commissioned, he wasn’t allowed to paint his beloved surrealism art and could instead only paint portraits.

In the painting, Lucifer was staring intently at Lilith, admiring her for everything she was or ever would be since her potential was limitless to him. She however was looking straight ahead, a demure smile upon her face.

When Lucifer thought of you, he couldn’t help also thinking of Lilith. Granted, you and he were only friends, but Lilith had also disappeared and now she had been missing for seven lonely years. Lucifer would hate to think that he had driven the only other person to live with him since then away too.

Anxiously, he twisted his wedding ring from side to side, feeling more miserable than ever.

“Hey boys,” Your cheery voice greeted as you entered the parlour.

Lucifer spun around to find you eagerly smushing Spick and Span’s faces like they were puppies or something equally as pettable.

“(Y/N)… You’re back,” He murmured quietly.

Mistaking his quietness for indifference towards you, you wilted somewhat, “Yeah, but I can uh- I can leave again if that’s what you want.”

“What I want?” Lucifer repeated listlessly. He held up his hand as if he was going to touch you, but let it drop again, “I’m… I’m going to my workshop.”

You nodded, your brows furrowing at the strange exchange, “Okay, I’ll- I’ll be in my room.”

Lucifer passed by you to leave the parlour first, then he seemed to change his mind, if only for a moment.

“It’s good to have you back,” He said softly before heading out.

You smiled to yourself, relieved. “It’s good to be back.”

You thought that Lucifer hadn’t heard you, yet as he walked to his workshop, a small smile reached his lips; it had been a long time since he’d considered anyone new to be a friend.

[durrtydawg]

hey gorl! idk how cereal you were about headcanons, but can i request something domestic? like what the uncharted boys are like when they're at home and not treasure hunting for once? (can be as clean/dirty as you like hehe)

Hey lovely! Thanks for waiting for so long, and sorry if this isn't what you had in mind, but I've spewed some domestic Sam headcanons into my notes that I think about too often. A lot of them are very random, so if you want something more specific, please let me know 👹❤️

I started writing Nate, too, but honestly, if you want some good Nate hcs, you should ask @nathandrakeisabottom bc she's gonna have them done to a T.

[Masterlist]

Without further ado,

Domestic Sam Drake Headcanons...

Sam likes to rotate his 'at-home wardrobe' between two pairs of ill-fitting jeans, raglan shirts, the odd henley, and a fuck tonne of minimalistic graphic tees with references that he has no clue about. Boots are abandoned for trainers. (- sneakers, for those who are anglo-challenged)

If it's cold-cold, he adds his trusty sherpa-plaid shirt combo.

If it's hot-hot, he opts for his slutty vests and perhaps some track shorts if he's feeling... frisky.

And fucking baseball caps. He wears them lots, and he wears them well. I do NOT make the rules.

Whenever the weather is good, Sam is outside working on his bike. Whether he's cleaning it, fixing it up, or just revving it for the attention, he'll be out there in aforementioned slutty little vest, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, tinkering away because he can't sit still for long at all.

When the weather isn't good, he's miserable. As soon as Winter rolls around, he contracts at least one cold a month, and whilst he gets surprisingly over dramatic about it, he also refuses to take any meds for it. Stubborn man.

Untidy- but never unclean. Being stuck in that grotty old prison for so long, it's clear that Sam wants nothing to remind him of his disgusting cell. He always cleans up after himself in terms of dirt and grime, BUT he's also become a bit of a hoarder, which also makes wherever he lives constantly untidy. Books, ugly little ornaments, and also clothes that he buys and never wears are scattered all over the place.

The idea of owning his own stuff remains seemingly overwhelming; he grows attached to whatever he gets his hands on because he's lived for so long without things of his own.

Continuing down the cleanliness route, Sam takes the longest showers you could imagine. The warmth? The privacy? They'll forever be luxuries to him that he wants to take complete advantage of.

Uses some sort of 250 in 1 body wash/shampoo/car brake fluid concoction, and is in complete refusal of the fact that he needs anything else... though once or twice his intrigue and thieving nature have gotten the better of him, and he's left the bathroom with an oddly feminine aroma that's dangerously similar to the scent of whatever it is his partner's using. Not that he'd ever use a girl's body wash.

Sam whistles around the house. A lot. Also sings quietly to himself throughout the day. He keeps it hushed, mostly, but for some reason, he thinks the shower is soundproof. Lucky for any cohabitors, he's got a pretty good set of pipes on him, and it's actually really sweet. ('We Didn't Start the Fire' by Billy Joel is one of his go-to's. He definitely brags about his ability to remember all of the words.)

He's a dab hand in the kitchen. Well. Sometimes. Sam's got a selection of about three dishes that he makes to Michelin star standard. Other than that he's fucking useless, which can be frustrating since he eats like an animal. Guys of his stature need fuel!

Many times has a frozen lasagna or a teaspoon that's been absentmindedly left in the microwave ended up almost burning the house down. Though, his mind is always in about six places at once, so you can't really blame the poor guy.

But those that he's good at? He's really good at. It's not often that he can be found in the kitchen with a tea towel strewn over his shoulder, four different pots and pans bubbling away on the stove, whilst he bops his head along to a crackly radio station, but when he is? You know you're in for a treat.

He can't scramble eggs for shit (he does it in the microwave and insists it tastes fine💀 it does not.) but can poach 'em good. Expect eggs benedict in the morning, or banana pancakes if you've got a sweet tooth. Not the type to eat brekkie? You are now.

Speaking of breakfast in bed:

Morning 👏 sex. Like... more than any other time of day. Sam wakes up with insane levels of energy in the morning, and the first two hours of his day are more productive than the other twenty-two combined. So if he's not out for a morning jog (eugh.) or busy finding out what recipe he wants to try out for breakfast, he's got it in you. End of. Perhaps you used to grumble about the time... but he's got a thing for your early-am laziness, and you've probably woken up with his head between your thighs more times than you can count. I suppose that feeds in to the somnoph1lia he's most definitely privy to.

That, of course, is not to say that he's exclusively into morning sex.

Is verrrry cuddly with partners when they're visiting or living together. Sam craves touch, so even if it's not a super committed relationship, lingering shoulder squeezes, resting his chin on your head whilst his arms are wrapped around your middle, and gentle strokes to the small of the back are staples- half the time he doesn't even realise he's doing them.

Overall, he’s one handsy bastard, and at his cockiest will take any opportunity he can to smack, squeeze, and even bite your ass if it's convenient enough, offering you nothing but a complacent grin when you try to snap at him. Best you save your moaning for the bedroom. He knows you love it.

Hear me out. He has a weird fascination with teleshopping channels. Not because he wants to buy any of it. Moreso because he enjoys criticising some of the ridiculous stuff they try to flog on there. With a mouthful of cereal, he'll be mocking whatever poor sod has a slot to sell their item, calling you to come and watch in hopes that you find it just as ludicrous as he does.

With TV in general, he has a very stereotypical 'dad' stance on it. Does the whole "what's this crap you're watching? Don't you wanna do something more productive with your day?", only to be glued to the screen within minutes, asking about characters and plot alike.

Unfortunately, this also includes Hallmark Christmas movies.

Sam loves loves LOVES 90's-00's british sitcoms (And no, that's not self-indulgent). I genuinely believe he would binge watch Father Ted and Peep Show happily, especially because he enjoys satire and absorbs the dry sense of humour like a happy sponge. He'd try to impress you with the accent too. Doesn't work.

Falls asleep on the sofa more than anywhere. Since he's often up at the crack of dawn, as soon as 5pm rolls around, he's yawning and 'resting his eyes'. That, and the fact that he finds it hard to get to sleep in bed unless he's totally fucked out. Something about being left alone with nothing but the view of the ceiling and his thoughts makes it difficult for him to switch off. Trauma, eh?

When he does sleep, though, he's precious. Definitely fidgets throughout the night, waking up all stiff because he's been in all sorts of weird positions. He doesn't snore... but he definitely mumbles in his sleep. And it's always nonsense.

Never plans a big groceries run. Sam's trips to the supermarket are solely made on an ad hoc basis, and every time he returns with something that definitely wasn't on the list, i.e. he'll go out to buy pasta but returns with a novelty kitchen timer shaped like a lemon, and a new wooden spoon because he doesn't like the turmeric stains on his current one.

Big porch dweller. Will idle away the hours smoking on his porch or balcony when he's exhausted all of his other options, and will draw little smiley faces on the railings with the burnt out end of the cigarette before throwing it away. Awh.

[ddagent]

Would love to read your take on whatever you have in mind for 4.09: Brazil. :)

4.09 Brazil: Kiss + Star City + Divergence

Margo was used to the still of her apartment building, the benign quiet as she rose, stretched, made coffee. Even the hotel in Houston was quiet, the only sounds being the rattle of the air conditioner and the occasional drag of footsteps from her minders outside. That morning, however, Margo was awoken to the sound of cartoons. They were loud, obnoxious. She shuffled on the couch, blinking her eyes open. By Margo's feet, Graciana sat, cross legged, eating cereal. It was the chocolate kind, that made the milk go brown and went soggy far too quickly. Margo had never wanted to eat anything more.

"Do you want some?" Graciana saw her staring. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'll get you some. But I get the toy, deal?"

"Sounds fair."

Margo adjusted herself into a sitting position. Aleida's couch was better than her bed back in Moscow, but she still rolled her shoulders, adjusted her neck. While Graciana poured Margo a bowl of Coco Pops or Captain whatever, she packed away the blankets and pillows from her night on the couch. The minders outside had stiffened at her plans to stay the night but they had not argued. They were there to watch, nothing more. Irina would be the one to challenge her when Margo returned to Star City. If she returned to Star City.

Her gaze stole across the living room to the other couch. Sergei had already packed away his blanket and pillow, his jacket thrown hastily over the side. Aleida had insisted he stay, despite his assurances that he'd been careful. But ever since he had divulged what had happened at the IAC in '92, Aleida had been overly cautious over the presence of Roscosmos – and the KGB. So Sergei had stayed. Margo had stayed. The spare room had been discussed – but the thought of sharing a bed had seemed daunting to them both. So, they'd slept out here. His and hers couches.

"—and the milk goes chocolate-y, see?"

Graciana was returning with her cereal. And she'd brought a friend. "I do. Thank you, Graciana." Sergei's smile was bright as he chatted with Aleida's daughter. He then offered Margo one of the bowls he carried. Graciana left the pair of them to one couch while she happily took the other, now on her second bowl of cereal. "Good morning, Margo."

"Mornin', Sergei." They'd never spent the night before. Not like this. Seeing each other in the fresh light of a new day. It wasn't unpleasant. "How did you sleep?"

"Better, knowing that you would be here when I awoke." Margo stiffened. Sergei winced, and took the furthest seat on the couch. As always with them, it was one step forward, two steps back. He took a mouthful of cereal, before he clarified his remark. "I only meant that it is good to know that you are safe, Margo."

"Of course."

They were both such liars.

On the opposite couch, Graciana eyed them, both curious and unconcerned with what Tia Margo and her friend Sergei were discussing. Eventually she got bored of cartoons, and bored of the conversation happening with no words, and abandoned her cereal bowl in favour of the toy that had come in the box. Margo and Sergei were left, alone, in Aleida's living room. They ate, the quiet only punctuated by the sound of the cartoons blaring from the television set. Sick of the insipid sounds, Margo grabbed the remote and switched it to local news.

"—the victim worked the front desk of the Travel Inn behind me. It's not yet known why Conroy was in room 303 – only that he didn't make it out alive."

Margo continued to eat her cereal, listening to the news of a man shot dead at a Houston motel. She didn't notice that Sergei had stopped eating until the story changed to Moscow Margo and she jabbed at the remote. She saw his expression in the reflection of the television set. Pale. Haunted. Like all the air had been punctured out of his lungs.

A sick thought began to gnaw at Margo's mind. But it couldn't be. They'd been so careful! He was staying in some other motel. Some other room. But as she met Sergei's gaze, as his chest began to heave, they both accepted the truth. Irina Morozova had tried to kill him on US soil. Sergei had been saved only by Aleida's – now genuine – paranoia. But Irina wouldn't be satisfied with the death of a motel clerk. They would try again. Sergei was not safe. Neither was Margo. Neither was Aleida and her family.

"The kids are packing a bag." Both Margo and Sergei turned round to stare at Aleida. She stared back at them, resolute. "Get your things. We leave in ten."

Margo frowned. Her minders were outside; the asteroid capture mission was in its critical stage. "Where are we going?"

"Your boyfriend mentioned something about Brazil?" Sergei nodded. "Then we're going to Brazil."

[noturlondonboy]

If Kate + Kate Makes Two… (Prt. 1)

-Bishova/Kate Bishop ¿Selfcest? Miniseries

Requested by @selfcestmovies

Masterlist

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop

Summary: Kate doesn’t notice all the little signs pointing towards some sort of space-time dimensional fuckery, but it’s a little harder to ignore when a second Kate Bishop walks into her apartment.

Warnings: Not proof read

A/N: part one of five-ish? We’ll see. Enjoy!

Kate Bishop should’ve figured that something was up the moment she walked into her apartment, for as scatterbrained she could often be, she was nothing short of attentive. Except that the blistering cold outside had been so much worse than she expected, the weather forecast having seemingly changed its mind overnight, and her head had been a jumble of plans for her and Yelena’s one-year anniversary in the coming weeks.

Ah, yes, dating. Kate still felt so new to it.

She spares only a confused glance at the furniture arrangements as she kicks her shoes off and hangs up her coat. (Hadn’t she gotten rid of those converse a few months ago?) The chairs and couches and coffee table had all been rearranged yet again, but strangely enough, they’d gone back to their old layout.

Maybe Yelena changed her mind about the new look they’d been trying out for their living room? Kate frowns softly to herself but ultimately shrugs it off, humming quietly as she turns on lights and wanders into the small kitchen, searching for something that could count as a snack. Opening up the cupboards, however, has her pausing again.

A few different sugar cereals, a couple cans of tuna and wet dog food, and a half full jar of peanut butter are all that greet her. The archer blinks a few times, her frost-bitten brain struggling to understand. Ever since they had started dating, Yelena had been an enthusiast about getting Kate to eat like an actual human and not some brain dead animal- which, first of all, ow. Hence Kate’s confusion; normally, the kitchen was well stocked with a wide variety of ingredients and prepped meals and different, easy snacks for Kate to grab when thinking was a little too hard.

Her lips stay pulled into a frown as she narrows her eyes and stares at the peanut butter accusingly, as if the jar alone was responsible for the disappearance of the other foods. Kate eventually folds, however, grabbing it with a sigh and digging out a spoon from the cutlery drawer by the sink. (Which was mercifully unchanged- Kate had admittedly bought more utensils for the apartment before she and Yelena had even gotten together.)

Unscrewing the lid from the jar, Kate wanders back out of the kitchen and plops a spoonful of peanut butter into her mouth, blissfully content with some simple protein. She pokes around at the blanket pile on the floor with her feet, hoping to locate the Nintendo Switch she thought she had left downstairs, but when her futile efforts reveal no such device, she sighs and sets the peanut butter down reluctantly in order to do a more thorough search. Lo and behold, the Switch is where it’s actually supposed to be- charging quietly in its docking station underneath the tv. Kate hums a low laugh to herself as she grabs the console, and she reunites with the peanut butter a moment later before bringing both with her as she heads upstairs.

The lack of small details around the apartment evades her usually keen notice as well- there are significantly less picture frames on the walls, which usually hold shots of Yelena and Kate together, or the dogs cuddled up with them, and the small hints of said blonde that had slowly overrun the apartment are barely minuscule. Kate, in her solely peanut butter and Animal Crossing focused haze, doesn’t notice anything amiss.

The turning point, of course, for all of these details and occurrences to finally click together in Kate’s head, is the moment she opens up Animal Crossing on the Switch to find her island looking nearly archaic.

She shoots up from where she had propped herself up in a pile of pillows and blankets, the peanut butter jar rolling from her lap as she stares at the screen in front of her. Her little character stares blankly back, blissfully unaware that black magic had clearly invaded her world and transformed her mansion back into a shed, her carefully selected outfit into an unflattering ensemble of dull colored rags.

Kate’s mouth falls open as her brow scrunches, confusion and well founded panic bubbling up as the little world inside the console continues to show nothing but regressed houses, little to no thought on plant and walkway placement, and villagers that had moved out months ago.

“I don’t… what…?” the archer mumbles to herself, her hands nearly shaking as she pokes around until the absence of a properly built museum causes her to turn the device off and set it aside. It was silly, she knew that. But the game had become one of the things that helped bring her down on hard days and anchor her whenever Yelena was gone on long missions. Whatever had happened, either to the console or the game itself, it was difficult to not feel a little devastated about the loss of progress.

And utterly confused about how and why it had happened.

Kate digs her phone from her pocket, her eyes flickering over the screen as she searches for Yelena’s contacts. Her fingers still before they can tap on it. Several things register in her head all at once.

One, Yelena’s contact still said Yelena with a little heart. Kate had changed it to Macaroni Baby at their six months.

Two, her Lock Screen had changed. Both it and her homepage were supposed to show recent pictures of Yelena with her new haircut, smile bright and eyes twinkling as she squished her face close to the dogs. But now, one screen showed a selfie of Yelena in her old braid and tactical suit after a long day, a weary smile on her face, and the other was a picture of Lucky and Fanny that Kate remembered taking over a year ago.

And three, what probably should’ve freaked her out first- the date and time in the corner of the screen.

“Nope, nope, I’m not doing this right now,” she mutters, breathing picked up as she discards her phone on the nightstand and scurries back downstairs. The smaller things are starting to catch her eye now- where Yelena’s shoes usually sit in a neat row next to Kate’s messy pile by the front door, only a single pair of Doc Martens now rests. The hook that Yelena installed one night at three am above the light switch for the dog’s leashes is mysteriously gone, without any sign that it was ever there in the first place.

“What the fuck. What the fuck.” Kate rubs at her eyes furiously and blinks around at the apartment, her heart thumping at her ribs in an attempt to escape. She was losing her mind. Seeing things. Going crazy. Maybe she just needed to sleep. Maybe this was a prank. Maybe this was just-

“Kate Bishoppppp!” Yelena’s voice rings out from behind the front door, the sound of the key in the lock jingling before the blonde pushes through the door and into the apartment.

Kate is to her in a flash, her arms around her girlfriend and her head buried in her neck before the other woman even has time to set her bag down. Yelena lets out a little oof, quickly hugging the archer to her and deigning to simply drop her stuff onto the floor.

”Hi, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says softly, her tone amused. “Are you alright?”

“Just a little freaked,” Kate mumbles quietly, burrowing her nose into her girlfriend’s neck and giving herself a moment to simply breathe her in, completely missing the way the blonde’s breath hitches in her chest. “The last hour has been real fuckin’ weird.”

“How so?” Yelena pulls away from her softly, her hands gentle on Kate’s hips- so far from the rough, possessive grip that Kate had recently gotten used to whenever her girlfriend knew that she was feeling anxious.

“Well first when I got home all the cupboards-” Her voice falters, and Kate stares at Yelena for a moment after bringing her head back up. “Yelena,” she chokes out, “your hair.”

The assassin’s brow furrows, and she brings a hand up to her long, intricate golden braid. “What? Did I miss a piece?”

Kate stumbles away, slipping from Yelena’s arms and shaking her head. What the hell was happening? “Did you… did you get a wig, or something?” she asks, her voice climbing in pitch.

Yelena frowns deeply, now officially worried. “Kate, this is my normal hair,” she says carefully, her eyes narrowing. “Are you okay?”

“This isn’t funny,” the archer mutters frantically, her eyes wide as her heart rate picks up again. “This isn’t funny, Yelena, you can stop messing with me now.”

“What’s not funny, Kate? What’s going on?” Yelena has her hands out in front of her carefully, her lips pursed as she takes in her girlfriend’s state of supposed delirium.

The young archer puts her hand over her chest, her head starting to spin as she whips her phone back out, something in her jumping sharply as the incorrect date stays the same. “This- do you see this? The date?”

“Yes, Kate Bishop,” the blonde says slowly, her tone careful as if Kate is a spooked animal. “It’s the 18th.”

“But it’s not,” Kate chokes out, turning the screen back to her to stare frantically down at the device. “It’s not 2026, it’s 2025, and the cupboards are empty, and the furniture is weird, and my Animal Crossing island is all rewound or some shit-”

“Ekaterina,” Yelena says sternly, her hands catching Kate’s and twining their fingers together. She grabs the archer’s phone and sets it aside, pulling the woman close. “Please, you are hyperventilating and scaring me. Did something happen? What are you talking about?”

Kate can feel the room spinning around her, and she feels like she’s going to be sick as she struggles to meet Yelena’s eyes. “I think I’m dead. Or I’m going crazy. Or I’m in a coma.”

“You’re not dead, Kate.” Yelena gently tugs her to the couch and makes her sit down, her hands careful. “Please, detka. Breathe.”

Kate lets herself sink down into the cushions, her chest feeling much too tight as she does her best to force air into her lungs. Yelena’s hand is gentle in hers, and she holds onto it tightly. She was always an anchor.

“Breathe, myshka, just breathe.” Yelena’s voice is soothing as she keeps her fingers tangled with Kate’s, her free hand smoothing frazzled strands of dark hair from the archer’s face. “You’re alright.”

“God, I feel nauseous,” Kate mumbles thickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “What the fuck.”

Yelena squeezes her hand tightly, her brow furrowed as she glances around the apartment anxiously. What on Earth had Kate Bishop so worked up?

“I’m going to get you some water, Kate,” Yelena says gently, standing from the couch after a moment and pressing a kiss to the brunette’s head. Kate only mumbles something unintelligible in response, her hand over her eyes.

She can vaguely hear Yelena finding a glass in the kitchen, and then the sound of the tap running, but the quiet ambiance is interrupted when the front door opens yet again.

“Oh, Yelena! I didn’t know you were planning on coming over early!”

Kate’s eyes slam open so hard she swears she can hear her skull crack.

Her head whirls around as she kneels up on the couch, her mouth dry and heart thudding like a dead weight to the bottom of her stomach when she hears and then sees the person who just entered the apartment. The woman. The archer. The, the- fucking-

Her. That was her.

Kate Bishop.

The glass in Yelena’s hand falls to the floor, but the assassin has an arm pressed into the other woman’s (a clone? A doppelgänger?) throat before the sound of glass shattering can reach Kate’s ringing ears.

“Who the fuck are you?” the blonde growls, her eyes sharp as she pins this new Kate Bishop down.

The Other Kate lets out a yelp when she’s slammed back against the wall, her hands flying up in surrender as her pupils shrink to pinpricks. “Woah, woah, Yelena! Hey, it’s just me! It’s Kate!”

“What… what the fuck?” Kate stammers out, her head spinning as she gets to her feet and goes around the couch, her hand propped on the back of it to keep herself steady. The Other Kate’s eyes fly to her, and panicked blue meets panicked blue.

“What the fuck?!”

Next >

[noroi1000]

Hi, I have a request and I hope you like the idea. Have you heard of the word Karen before? Have you seen any videos about Karen’s? Well if you did I thought that it would be kinda funny if y/n, Gojo and Geto meet one. (Btw this is a Geto x y/n x Gojo) and if you watched Karen’s videos before, you know that a lot of them show Karen in supermarkets. Well anyways the story starts like this. Y/n Gojo and Geto live together btw, and is morning and she wakes up to do her morning routine and start breakfast etc. while doing breakfast she realized that they’re almost out of groceries. They wake up and she told them about it and agreed to go grocery shopping later. After a few hours they went to the supermarket and everything was normal, (also can I ask if you can put a funny scene we’re Gojo is sitting inside the cart and Geto is pushing it while y/n is embarrassing and annoyed at their childish antics) and in one of the food isles there was this lady (the Karen) just minding her own business and the three of them were next to her. Gojo went to another isle to get something so it was just Geto and y/n (btw Geto and Gojo call y/n rarely by her name, they usually just calls her babe, honey, sweetheart, etc.) So Geto and y/n we’re just talking and he would call her that and the lady over heard it and thought they were a couple. Gojo comes back and also called her with nicknames. Then the lady heard this and was confused and she immediately asked who was she dating and she told both of them. The lady at first laughed at the situation thinking it was a joke and said “your so funny young lady. You know a couple is between with one man and one woman.” But y/n said the same thing again and this time the lady was shocked and disgusted. And as any Karen would, the lady started making a big scene. (The conversation through the fight can be however you want but I ask that she said something really offensive to y/n about her dating two men and it made her a bit emotional). The ending can be however you want. Sorry if it’s weird, I thought it would be Interesting to read Gojo and Geto meeting a Karen in the wild. 

Karen in shop

a/n: I had never seen the movies before, nor had I heard of it. But I've been researching about it, and I don't think it's that bad.

Warnings: swear words, typical Karen

You woke up in the morning as usual. Somehow slipping out of the arms of your boyfriends who keep you pinned between them as you sleep.

So getting out of bed was hard for you, but you managed to get your body out from between them.

You didn't want to wake them up because it looked cute that Satoru was looking for you in his sleep and started slowly cuddling up to Suguru. It was so fun and cute. However, you left your bedroom to do everything you do every morning.

Your morning routine isn't all that complex. You don't do so many things to your body every morning. Especially since you have no plans today. So you'll just sit at home and do nothing. You don't want to leave the house. You guys can just sit on the couch together and watch movies. Or do something. Or eat together, then do something, then cook dinner together, take care of yourself and finally take a long bath together.

You will need a day of laziness...

Have you even considered making breakfast to pass the time? Something other than Breakfast cereals with milk or a sandwich.

After putting on your clothes, you went to the kitchen. You were glad your slippers were soft and kept the cold floor out of your feet.

The best fluffy slippers are the ones your boyfriends bought you. They know your taste so well. Perfect color and perfect size.

That's why you love them.

You'd probably have to buy them the same.

Because you see Satoru walking around the house with socks on and Suguru wearing flip-flops without socks. Well, he likes traditional Japanese shoes, so you don't forbid him. However, you would like to see them wearing fluffy slippers around the house.

You turned on the kettle to make black coffee for Suguru and sweet for Satoru. Such a routine. The person who gets up first makes coffee for everyone else.

You reached for three mugs to make you warm drinks.

In the meantime, you decided to come up with something to eat. So that it tastes good to you and also to them.

You can't eat sweets alone. And you won't let Satoru eat those sweet, colorful cereals with milk and coffee with sugar again.

And you also don't want Suguru to eat bread with some condiment, washed down with black coffee.

You need some change to break your constant routine. Eating the same thing gets boring over time.

You opened the fridge to see the shelves were almost empty. Apart from a few jars of various jams that Satoru eats with waffles or pancakes. There wasn't much inside either. You also found some lunch from yesterday, but neither of you will get enough of it. Especially since Satoru is a glutton. The same can be said about Suguru...

You quickly looked in the other cupboards to find at least flour and eggs. To make even pancakes.

There was almost nothing there.

Already completely pissed, you sighed, and went to the bedroom.

Just to wake them up.

As you entered, you noticed that Suguru was lying on his back, phone in hand, while Satoru's head was resting on his shoulder while he was still sleeping, his long limbs stretched out all over. The length of the bed.

Your bed is huge, mainly because it can easily accommodate three people. And they are tall, and their shoulders and chests are quite broad. That's why it was the most convenient for you.

"What's up, baby?" Suguru asked as he watched you walk over to the bed.

And suddenly you climbed onto the high mattress to put one leg over his body, and sat on his lower abdomen.

"We need to go to the store..." I murmured, feeling the sleepiness return as you touched the bed.

"Sure, we'll go after we have breakfast." He told you and put the phone on the nightstand.

"We must go now. Because there's nothing to eat for breakfast." You said running your hands over his stomach, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt.

"There's nothing at home?"

"No... Satoru probably ate everything yesterday..." you said looking at the white-haired boy.

Suddenly, Geto hit him with his elbow, causing him to wake up.

"What...?" He groaned sleepily.

"Did you eat everything in the house?!"

"I don't know... I was hungry..."

"Hey hey, Suguru, don't torment him. We'll just go shopping and he'll pay for it." You said grabbing Suguru's hand.

"Fine... But let me sleep some more..."

You hoped he would be calm and sleepy all the time. However, the moment you took a large shopping cart, he suddenly came to life.

And Suguru wasn't angry with him anymore.

The white-haired man jumped into the cart, and you thought it was about to burst.

He started laughing as Geto pushed him across the parking lot like little children.

They nearly fell over a few times, but that didn't stop them.

You ran after them, telling them to stop. it was funny, however people stared at you...

And when you managed to get your white-haired boyfriend out of the shopping cart, you entered the store.

You were hoping for a quiet shopping experience. Even if you were there with them, and life with them is not always easy.

"Honey~honey~, could I pick up some cereal?"

You looked at Satoru who was looking at you like a child.

"You pay, so sure. Take what you want." You told him, plucking a strand from his white hair.

It probably stuck to him while he was getting dressed.

"Thanks honey~." he pecked your cheek with a smile before walking into another alley.

"What do we need?" the dark-haired man asked you.

But you were more focused on the woman who was standing near you, looking in your direction.

do you look weird? Or maybe he is looking at the products that are in front of you on the shelf?

"Uhm... Maybe bread first? Could you pass me some top shelf sugar?"

He smiled and reached higher, grabbing the wrapper before putting it in the cart he was driving as he followed you.

"Anything else, honey?" he asked.

"Let's go get some bread."

"Yes, princess." He winked one eye at you, making you blush a little at his charm.

Why was he able to change his attitude in such sudden moments?

From a cute boyfriend to being pissed at Satoru to being cute again.

As you approached the woman, she looked at you again. By staring at you.

Now you're sure she was looking straight at you.

While you were choosing fresh baguettes for breakfast, Satoru returned with his arms full of cereal wrappers.

He threw it all into the cart.

"You're crazy, aren't you?" Suguru asked, looking at his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Our Mochi said I can! You know, she's our girlfriend and she treats us equally! You get your favorite coffee and food, I get my favorite sweets. And she's sweet to me too!" He smiled, and pulled you by the waist.

"We share, and we both have the same. Remember." Suguru said, pulling you away from him, and pulled your back against his chest, bending your neck to kiss your lips.

"Do you always have to make scenes? I love you both equally." You said as you pulled away from them.

Your relationship is that you love them and they love you. You agreed to it because you couldn't pick one. And neither of them would give up on you.

You ended up like this, and each of you knows that there isn't enough jealousy between them to fight to keep you for just one.

They don't want to make you choose, so you don't choose.

Because you love them both.

And the moment you said that, that woman who was next to you came over to you.

Standing in front of you, her face didn't seem pleased. On the contrary, she was confused, but it was negative.

"Excuse me, I heard what you were talking about. And I have one question for you, girl, which one are you dating?" She asked pointing at them with one hand.

"Um..." He hesitated a little.

Why should you tell a stranger your private things?

But in the end, you guys are open about your relationship...

"I'm dating both of them." you said.

The woman looked more indignant. But suddenly she smiled slightly. It wasn't a genuine smile.

"You're so funny, young lady. Haha... A relationship is between one man and one woman." She said covering her mouth slightly with her hand.

You looked at the old woman's face.

Did she really think you were joking??

"I'm not trying to be funny. I say it as it is. The three of us are dating." You said again.

And then her face changed. The smile faded, and disgust appeared on her face. Especially when she was looking at you.

"That's not a relationship." She said reproachfully, snorting a little with irony. "A normal relationship is one where there is a man and a woman. Two people. Two men or two women is not normal. And more than two people in a relationship is an anomaly. This sort of thing should be illegal."

"Why illegal? No one can command anyone they fall in love with." You snorted, already pissed at her behavior.

"Oh, I see. You don't have a brain, do you? Because no sane person with a brain would do something so disgusting!" she raised her voice. "Don't you feel it's so disgusting and horrible? You spend time with one man and then go to another! You cheat on one with the other and then vice versa! You're not normal, bitch. People like you are destroying society."

"Oi, grandma, did anyone ask for your opinion? I think that you are an abnormal person without a brain, since you approach people you don't know and tell them that they are abnormal. If you had any sense, you wouldn't say your racist views, and you wouldn't openly show that you are homophobic. I understand that old age, when no one wants you anymore because you are old and ugly, is painful. But an old and mean women who lives like it's the Middle Ages, no one will like." Satoru said, leaning down to her height.

"Did I say something to you?" she asked indignantly.

"By saying my girlfriend is a bitch, you're insulting me too. 'Cause the only bitch I see here is you. Probably racist, homophobic, and yet you don't tolerate small deviations from normality. I'll blow you away whore, You're twice my age or even three times my age and my hair is naturally white! Since birth! Oh no, fucking kill me for making my hair an old man's color! You don't even like what we look like? Gouge out your eyes! Don't look at people who are disgusting to you!"

"A woman having more than one man is just a whore–"

"I suggest gouging out your eyes as well as cutting out your tongue." Suguru said, keeping his hand on your shoulder so you don't take what she says personally.

"I'll call the police. I know people like you, long hair, piercings and tattoos! All you want to do is kill and hurt people."

"A woman who believes all the rumors... So annoying... I could tattoo your face on my ass that says "I have her in my ass ", or "shit on the bitch ". You want it? No, I wouldn't want my ass to be as ugly as your face."

Then you started walking away to finish your shopping.

Satoru followed you.

"See ya'!" he shouted, showing two middle fingers to the woman.

When you got to your car, you packed a large pile of groceries and wanted to go.

And then Satoru decided that he buys you pizza and also buys food for tonight's movie night.

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FORTY → FAMILY MATTERS

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 3.7k || masterlist

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

a/n: sad steve hours :( I don't think we'll ever get the harrington's lore so I'm creating my own.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

A constant tension hummed through the Harrington household whenever Steve’s parents were home, which wasn’t often. But, when they were, Steve tried to avoid his house as much as he could.

They had arrived home two days prior and were set to leave that morning for another business trip. Steve managed to avoid them for most of their stay; he used the excuse of work to get out of family dinners and small talk that almost always ended in some kind of argument. The tension between his mom and dad was bad enough without him entering the mix. 

The bitterness between his parents had been brewing since Steve was little. They tried to save face for a long time, but as he grew older, they dropped the act while at home. His dad was getting sloppier hiding the fact that he was sleeping with his revolving door of secretaries, or maybe he didn’t care to hide it anymore. And his mom was getting worse at pretending she didn’t know exactly what he was doing. Steve had no idea why they stayed together; it wasn’t for his sake.

If given the choice, he’d love to move somewhere with his mom and forget all about his dad. She used to be his favorite person in the entire world, but something changed in her. She became cold and poured all of her time and energy into work. Maybe she wanted to prove to her husband that, while she may be replaceable as a partner, she couldn’t be replaced in the office. Because of that, she stopped coddling Steve and nearly stopped paying attention to time altogether. They had a reputation to uphold, though, and all of them had gotten a little too good at putting on a believable act while in public. His parents didn’t want a divorce to ruin their squeaky clean image while outside their home. 

Steve sat at their kitchen island, eating a bowl of cereal before his shift at Scoop Ahoy. His parents had busied themselves packing, and he thought he’d be in the clear of them. They’d bid him goodbye as they walked out the door and that would be that. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side that morning. 

Heavy footsteps from his dad echoed from down the hall before he entered the kitchen. Out of habit, Steve sunk back in his seat, thinking maybe his dad would miss him entirely. But, as the gray-haired man poured himself a mug of coffee, he turned to look at Steve with his usual, stoic expression. 

“Your mother and I won’t be back until after the holiday,” he said. “Can you manage to keep the house in one piece until then?” Every word out of his dad’s mouth was wrapped in a patronizing tone. He thought Steve was an idiot and like he hadn’t been left home alone since he was ten years old.

“I always do,” Steve replied, suddenly not interested in his breakfast and more ready to get to work than he had been all summer. He stood up and headed to the sink. 

“You know,” his dad began, before taking a long sip of his black coffee. Steve inwardly groaned as he washed his bowl. “If you had put any effort at all into your college application, you could have joined us on this trip and gained real-world experience. I could have secured you an internship for the fall.”

It was the same lecture since he graduated at the end of spring. It was phrased slightly different each time, but it carried the same message: Steve was the family's disappointment, and he should feel bad about it. He turned out nothing like his dad, and that was an issue. Hell, in his dad’s eyes, it was the end of the world that Steve wasn’t accepted into every Ivy League school in the country, and he wasn’t the strongest candidate to work at the company that employed three generations of Harrington men. He was supposed to be the fourth and after he married some dull housewife, his son was supposed to be the fifth. But he had spent too much time “screwing around” and his dad would rather have been caught dead than bring Steve anywhere near his place of work with his less-than-average GPA and a handful of unsubmitted college applications. 

“Maybe next year,” Steve muttered, begging his dad to drop it. He avoided the daggers the man stared into the back of his head as he placed his bowl and spoon on the drying rack and moved to retreat to his car. He didn’t make it halfway across the kitchen, though, before his dad started speaking again. 

“That’s your problem. You see everything as an issue for later. You put everything off because you are too goddamn lazy to take any responsibility for yourself.”

With a quiet sigh, Steve stopped in his tracks and turned to meet the cold gaze of his dad. “I got the job you wanted me to. And I already started filling out applications for next year.” Irritation itched under his skin, and he had the urge to scratch it. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.” He knew his words were leading him into a winless fight, but his parents' lack of understanding of the hell he had been through over the last two years was eating away at him. It became harder and harder to stand his dad’s constant jabs about how “lazy” and “childish” he was. 

It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying. In his parents' eyes, he was nothing more than an irresponsible kid who had no clue what he was doing with his life. They thought he didn’t know how the real world worked, but Steve knew a hell of a lot more about the “real” world than they did. He couldn’t tell them that, though, no matter how badly he wanted to. The truth burned like acid in his throat, but he was forced to swallow it down every time he was lectured. 

His dad scoffed. “What I want is for you to think about the future of this family and of the company. You’re not a child anymore. You are an adult and it's about damn time you start acting like it.” He sat down his mug and set his jaw before he continued; Steve knew he was really into it now. “It’s time you stop running around with that Torres girl and those kids you babysit and start doing something with your life.” 

Steve wanted to laugh. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell his dad how he had done more with his life in the past two years than what was even comprehensible. Steve fought monsters, met the smartest kids in Indiana, and helped save their shitty hometown from certain doom. That was all thanks to “that Torres girl” and the kids he “babysat.” If it weren’t for them, he probably would be starting his miserable journey down the same path as his dad. 

“Right, because your life looks like a blast,” he mumbled under his breath, but in the quiet house it was easy to hear. Steve didn’t wake up looking for a fight that morning, but he inched closer and closer to the end of his rope when it came to his dad. It was a fight he knew he’d lose, but he didn’t care. 

“Excuse me?” 

Steve swallowed down his creeping childhood fear of his dad that told him to stop and back down. He rolled his shoulders back and tried to look a little taller. “Maybe I don’t want to be miserable like you and mom. I don’t want to work for you. Have you ever thought about that?” A small surge of confidence filled his chest, and he didn’t want to waste it. “Not that you or Mom have ever cared to ask me what I want. In fact, I don’t remember the last time either one of you asked me about anything!” 

“You better lower your voice, boy,” his dad warned in a cold and low tone. He stepped toward Steve, sizing him up, before he said, “I don’t care what you want. If you had shown us that you were capable of making your own decisions, maybe we could have talked about it, but any conversation we could have had is long out of the question now. That ship sailed when you decided to waste your high school education by doing God only knows what. You don’t get the luxury of a choice, son.” The way he called Steve ‘son’ wasn’t loving but mocking. 

Steve’s jaw clenched in a mix of anger and frustration. He felt the ghost of hand cramps from all the paperwork he had to sign over the past two years to ensure that everything he saw and knew stayed buried, but at that moment, he wanted to shove it all back in his dad’s face. He wanted the man to feel bad. He wanted him to care. He wanted him to feel guilty.

“You never even asked me why I didn’t turn in my applications on time or why my grades slipped! You don’t care about anything other than our family’s reputation. Who gives a shit?!” 

That was the breaking point for both Steve and his dad. The anger and resentment tumbled from his lips and were met with instant regret. He knew where raising his voice at his dad would get him, and he didn’t bother to apologize. A small, sick part of him wanted to make his dad angry. 

With his back pressed against the counter, he watched as his dad quickly crossed the short distance between them. His hand latched onto Steve’s wrist, pulling it off of the edge of the counter before he twisted it in an unnatural fashion that caused Steve to hiss out in pain.

“I told you to lower your fucking voice,” his dad spit. “I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you or why you think you can speak to me like that, but you’ll knock it off if you know what’s good for you.”

Steve bit in tongue and stared at his dad. His eyes were darker than Steve’s and his mother’s. They resembled bitter black coffee and were almost always narrowed into thin slits, constantly in a state of anger or displeasure. The man’s face glowed red in the warm morning light, and the vein in his forehead became visible. Fingernails dug into Steve’s skin, but that pain was overshadowed by the way his wrist was bent downwards. The pain intensified by the second, and Steve found himself feeling incredibly small as if he was still a child being scolded. In his dad’s eyes, that was exactly what he was. 

“I don’t care why you screwed up,” his dad continued. He didn’t care about the monsters Steve faced or the fights he lost two years in a row. “But you will fix it. You will get your shit together or so help me God, I’ll beat the sense into you. Understand?” 

A short beat of silence stretched between them as Steve's last attempt at defiance. But then his dad twisted his wrist even harder, and pain shot up the length of Steve’s arm, forcing him to give in. “Yes,” he muttered. His dad held onto his wrist for a moment longer before the soft click of heels neared the kitchen and Steve’s mom entered. 

“We’re all ready to go,” his mom said, smoothing out the fabric of her blazer. There was never anything out of place on her. Every hair on her head was combed into place and every outfit was creaseless. “You know the rules, Steve. No guests. There’s money in the envelope on the counter for groceries, and we’ll call before our flight back home. All right?” 

Steve just nodded before his mom looked expectantly at her husband. They exchanged short goodbyes with him and wheeled their suitcases out to the car. He watched out the living room window as they pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the road. 

Once their car was out of sight, Steve collapsed onto the couch, clutching his wrist to his chest and laughing bitterly as tears welled up in his eyes. He felt pathetic and like a child who cried every time he was scolded. It used to drive his dad crazy when he was a little boy. Steve would do something stupid, he’d get yelled at, and then he’d cry into his mom’s arms as she stroked his hair. Then, something shifted inside their home. His dad started doing more than yelling and his mom stopped running to aid. So, Steve took to different ways of taking out the emotions that raged inside his chest. It started with cigarettes and then that was paired with beers Tommy H. took from his cousin.

But he didn’t have those things anymore because the smell of cigarette smoke made Sunshine cough and Dustin wouldn’t stop rattling off the health risks. He wasn’t friends with Tommy H. and Hawkins was too small for him to buy beer illegally from the liquor store. So, Steve restored to his old ways of coping when he was little and his house began to feel colder and lonelier than normal. He sat on the couch and let a few tears roll down his cheeks as he iced his wrist, praying the bruises left behind wouldn’t be too bad until he had to leave for work. He’d spend the rest of his day pretending like he didn’t have the constant fear that he’d screw everything up like his dad wholeheartedly believed. 

...

The lamp on Sunshine’s bedside journal illuminated the pages of her journal. She sat curled up in a pile of soft blankets and pillows while she jotted down the strings of thoughts inside her head. Beside her bed, the window was cracked, allowing the summer evening breeze to fill the room with the hum of crickets and the smell of July. Her peace was interrupted by a knock at her door. 

“Come in,” she said. Her parents stood at her doorway, looking a bit uneasy which caused instant panic to spread through Sunshine. She closed her journal and tossed it onto her bedside table. “Is everything okay?” 

Her mom smiled softly. “Everything’s fine, sweetie.” She exchanged a glance with her husband before the two entered the room. “Your dad and I just want to talk to you. Is that all right?”

Sunshine nodded and made a space at the end of her bed for them to sit. “Talk about what?” 

“We want to help you,” Mary-Jane began, talking carefully like she had rehearsed what she was going to say beforehand. “But, you know, we can’t do that if you don’t talk to us.”

She was confused. All things considered, Sunshine was in a much better place than she thought she’d ever be in. There were days when nightmares ruled her brain and sadness ached deep in her bones from old wounds that never healed properly, but the monsters were defeated and almost everyone she’d ever cared for was safe and without arms reach. Things were better in Hawkins. They weren’t perfect, but they were better than she expected they’d be. 

“Help me?” 

Her mom reached out and placed a warm hand on Sunshine’s knee. She tried to fake a reassuring look, but it came off to Sunshine as more worried. That look alone caused guilt to creep up on Sunshine. 

“We want to understand what happened to you. We want you to feel like you can trust us with that information, and we want to help you through it. Whatever you’ve gone through, whatever you’re still dealing with, you know you don’t have to suffer through it alone now,” her dad said. Sunshine felt her face pale. She felt backed into a corner all of a sudden, with her parents on either side of her staring with looks of concern that became suffocating. 

Even if Sunshine was allowed to tell her parents the truth, she wouldn’t burden them with the truth. She also couldn’t bear to tell them the things she had done inside the Lab. The truth of the Lab and the Upside down were not easy things for people’s minds to comprehend. But she was also selfish; she worried that if her parents heard the full story, they wouldn’t see her as their little girl anymore and that was all Sunshine had ever wanted to be. She wanted to be cared for and doted on like a child should be. What if she told them and they gave up on her? What if they wished she had never come back at all? The last thing Sunshine wanted was to be seen as Seven, not Sunshine or Danielle. 

Swallowing thickly, Sunshine’s gaze fell onto her hands in her lap. “I know that,” she said. “But I’m okay. Really, I’m fine.”

Walter sighed, rubbing the worry lines on his forehead that Sunshine probably caused. “You don’t have to lie to us. We understand that it’s not easy for you.” 

Her mom added, “We thought if we gave you enough time, you’d come to us and talk. But we can’t keep avoiding this conversation. We want to understand what you went through so that we can help you.” 

Nothing they could do or say could “fix” Sunshine. No amount of recanting her time inside the Lab would ease her mind or reverse the strange glow she could create in her palms. There was nothing that could scrub her mind clean of the doctors, the dead kids, or the monsters she faced. It all would be a part of her forever. 

“I’m doing a lot better,” she pushed, trying to get them to stop, but they were adamant. 

“If that were true, you wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night screaming and calling out names we don’t know. Your nightmares haven’t gone away; it’s been almost three years.” Her mom’s eyes became glossy and rose red. Sunshine didn’t want her to cry; she couldn’t handle it. The guilt squeezed her heart and skin hot as her mom continued, “If you just talk to us about them, about your nightmares at least, that’s a start. We can help you, but not if you don’t talk to us. Please, sweetheart. We just want to understand.” 

The crack in her mom’s voice and the similar glassy-eyed look on her dad's face nearly sent Sunshine over the edge. She had to lie to them. She had to in order to protect them, to protect herself, and to protect her parents from herself. 

“I promise, I’m okay. I just…I really don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Her mom hung her head, her dad sighed, and Sunshine’s stomach twisted in awful knots. 

There was a brief pause before her dad steadied himself and reeled in his emotions a little bit more than her mom. “Are you protecting someone?” he asked. “The names you say in your sleep, were there other people with you, wherever you were?” 

There were so many people, but only a few that she could still protect. There were kids, with their sad little faces pressed against windows and skinny fingers moving game pieces inside the Rainbow Room. There were doctors and scientists who poked and prodded her until her skin was bruised and brain manipulated in more ways than one.

“No,” Sunshine sighed. “They’re just nightmares. I don’t even remember what happens in them after I wake up. But if there was something wrong, I’d tell you. Right now, I just want to forget about what happened. I want to move on.” 

Mary-Jane pulled her hand away from Sunshine’s knee and sat in tense silence for a moment. She twisted the fabric of her skin in between her fingers, a nervous habit Sunshine had noticed. “If you don’t want to talk to us, maybe we could take you to speak to a professional, someone more versed in this kind of thing? I know there are good doctors in Chicago. Maybe they-” 

“No doctors,” Sunshine rushed out. “I don’t need to talk to a professional. If you guys want to help me, just treat me like a normal teenager. I want to feel normal. That’s how I’m going to move on.” 

Her mom and dad shared a look Sunshine could read before Walter nodded with slight dejection. “All right,” he said. “If that’s what you think will help, then I think we can manage that. But if things get worse, if these nightmares get worse, we’ll have to take you to see a professional, okay?” 

Sunshine fiddled with her necklace as her mom added, “We need you to understand that we only want what is best for you. And we know you want to work past what happened. We’ll work with you, sweetheart, but you’ve got to be honest with us. Keeping everyone bottled up inside is not healthy.” She wished it were that simple. She wished all she had to do was tell her parents the truth and all of her nightmares would stop. If all she had to do was tell the truth to fix herself, she would have already done it. The truth wouldn’t erase the monsters or bad men. 

Looking between her parents, Sunshine found her voice. “And I need you guys to trust me."

“And we need you to be safe. We need you to feel safe here, and safe with yourself,” her mom said. But Hawkins wasn’t safe, not really. It never had been and it probably would never fully be. But, as long as Sunshine was there, she could keep it safe for the people whom she cared about inside the town. 

“I am. I do,” said Sunshine. “I promise.” A small yawn escaped her lips, and she prayed it was enough to get her parents to give up. To her luck, it was. They stood up from her bed and took turns pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before they bid her goodnight. She sank back into her pile of pillows and muffled a groan into a blanket she pulled over her head. Before her mind could attack her with more “what-ifs” and guilt, she squeezed her eyes shut and let sleep overtake her.

Tagged. @sattlersquarry , @leptitlu , @drunkengodsofslaughter

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter twelve — o, atlas, pt. ii

WORD COUNT — 2,304

WARNINGS — reader's family celebrates christmas, slight angst

NOTES — i can’t believe there’s like 2 chapters left already what happened

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

In a blur, Christmas day had finally arrived. And, almost miraculously, it was one of the first days over the past month that you were able to feel some sort of joy. Through the ache in your chest and the cloud of loneliness that had been following you around for over a month, you woke up feeling almost… happy.

Almost. 

Every year since you could remember — including this year — you woke up before anyone else in the house. The sun was barely creeping over the horizon, the glow creeping over the white walls of your bedroom, illuminating it brilliantly. The clock on your phone read 6:47am. You’d never understood how your body managed to wake up so early no matter what time you went to bed on Christmas Eve. It was like it knew what was awaiting you the next morning. 

At 7:15am, after scrolling on your phone became too boring and you could no longer wait for the rest of the house to wake up, you began to tiptoe downstairs as quietly as you could manage. It was mostly light outside, but the hallway was still dark, and you had to use your phone to light the path to the living room. 

The sunlight mixed with the light from the decorations outside and the lights glimmering on the tree as you moved to sit on the far right side of the couch. Gifts were piled underneath the tree, almost overflowing into the rest of the room, all perfectly wrapped or bagged — certainly Maggie’s doing, as you knew your dad was never able to wrap gifts properly. 

The door down the hall creaked open as you made your way into the living room, and you backtracked to find Chuck, bleary-eyed and mostly-asleep, making his way to the living room. With every step, his feet landed on the hems of his too-big pajama pants, and he rubbed his eyes as he made his way to you. 

He jumped slightly when he saw you, before heading to the couch and sitting to your left. “G’morning,” he greeted with a yawn, sleep coating his words. 

“Morning,” you whispered back before getting back up upon realizing how hungry you were. You headed to the kitchen, grabbing a box of cereal to bring back for you and Chuck to take turns eating handfuls of as you waited silently for everyone to get up. 

It had taken everyone else almost an hour to get up and make their way to the living room, and from there it was an almost perfect Christmas morning. A light snowfall had begun almost as soon as your parents sat on the couch, and everyone joked around as you all unwrapped your gifts. 

And while you may not have talked directly to Thomas that morning, it seemed that you were both on the same page. No ill will on Christmas. 

Maggie made breakfast afterward, and you helped your dad with cleaning up the ocean of wrapping paper as she did so. Once the food was ready, everyone sat down to eat together like you used to, as a family. You talked and laughed like before, like nothing had even happened between you and Thomas, before everyone inevitably went their own ways to do whatever they needed to. 

Thomas took his presents upstairs to put them away and get ready to see Teresa later on in the day, your dad went upstairs to get dressed for the day, and Chuck and Maggie immediately set off to start building the Lego Death Star he got from her and your dad. You decided that putting away everything you were given now would be easiest, so you went to do exactly that. 

When you got to your room, you set aside the clothes you got from your uncle to be washed, and put the books Amina and Fernanda sent you on top of your dresser before sending them excited ‘thank you’ texts. Finally, you set up the new laptop you’d gotten from your dad and Maggie. Thomas had received one, too, and their main explanation was that you would need them for college. It was one of those fancy ones, too, that was somehow both a laptop and a tablet.

After taking everything out of the packaging, you brought the box over to your closet to shelve it in case you’d need it later. But you made the simple mistake of glancing down — at the bins in your closet, filled with things from your childhood, where the piece of clothing you’d been avoiding for a month sat. 

Perfectly folded, resting on top of the bins. Newt’s jacket.

The ache in your heart came back, and your breath stuttered in your lungs as your eyes locked onto the canvas jacket. You didn’t move an inch as you stared, thinking, long and hard, about what to do with it. Finally, with a determined shut of your closet doors, you came to a decision and got dressed for the day. 

You weren’t sure if you’d chosen to give it back because it was Christmas, or if you were tired of the constant reminders and feeling the way you did for so long, or if you just wanted an excuse to finally try to talk things out with Newt. 

After you were dressed, you grabbed the jacket from the closet and put it into one of your old backpacks before heading downstairs. You found your dad sitting with Chuck and Maggie, still piecing together the Death Star in the living room. 

Sliding on your coat, you asked, “Dad, can I take the car for a sec? I have to give something to Brenda really quick.”

He looked up, considering it for a moment. It didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, but you felt as though telling him that you were going to see Brenda instead of breaking your own heart by trying to talk to Newt was a safer option.

“Sure thing, kiddo. The keys should be on my desk in the office.” He smiled, nodding at you when you smiled back. “Just try to be back by 3, okay? Maggie’s gonna need our help with dinner.” 

“No problem, dad,” you told him, already crossing the hallway to head to his office, which was directly across from Chuck’s room. “I’ll be back before you know it.” 

Heading into the office, the first thing you noticed was that the room was flooded with gray-toned natural light from the window across from your dad’s desk. The sky outside was cloudy, large snowflakes tumbling to the ground. You made your way to the desk, where you found the keys tucked under your dad’s large, highly expensive, Mac monitor. Considering he designed company logos and other types of things for a living, it wasn’t surprising that he had one to work on. After all, it was what allowed him to work from home and to do so flexibly. 

After grabbing the keys and heading back into the hallway, you rushed out of the house, barely stopping to say your goodbyes to everyone. The second you’d gotten in the car, you felt the anxiety building high in your chest like Jenga blocks, stacking higher and higher, becoming more unstable with every passing second, waiting for the right moment to crash to the ground and suffocate you under their unbearable weight.

But you refused to let that happen. Instead, you pushed it all aside, starting the car and allowing the ease of driving to take over until you were parked along the curb of the familiar barn-style house. Shutting off the car, you took as deep a breath as your lungs would allow, closing your eyes and trying your best to mentally prepare yourself for what could happen. 

After you gave yourself a moment or two, you decided that just getting it over with would be easiest. Shaking the thoughts from your head, you grabbed the strap of the bag from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car, walking up the driveway. The cold breached your jacket within seconds, and you could only think about how you wouldn’t have been cold if you were wearing Newt’s jacket instead. 

The tower of anxiety within you built itself higher and higher, growing into a skyscraper by the time you reached the front door. With another deep breath, you raised your shaking hand and formed a fist to knock on the door. Before you had the chance to do so, the white-painted wood door swung open. 

You quickly stepped back as an older woman began to step out, shouting over her shoulder. 

“Don’t forget about the chicken, please! I’ll be back at 9!” She looked like she was in a rush, jacket pulled over one arm, a purse resting in the crook of her elbow, and keys jangling in her palm as she tried to pull the door shut. She wore a set of light blue scrubs, little black doodled flowers covering them, and her hair — the same sandy blond color as both of her kids — seemed to be haphazardly thrown into a ponytail. She jumped when she realized she almost ran right into you. “Oh! Sorry, darling! I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

She huffed and smiled tiredly at you. “You must be one of my kid’s friends,” she deduced. “I’m sorry to have met you like this, but I’m going to be late for work—” 

You smiled warmly at her. “No worries. I’m just here to talk to— to Newt, actually. I, uhm, I have something to give to him.” 

“Oh,” she nodded, pushing some hair from her face. It was nice to see how much Newt was like his mom. “Well, he’s inside.” For a second, she seemed to contemplate what she wanted to say next. “And if you can, would you try to cheer him up a bit? The poor boy, he’s been so… down lately. Won’t talk to me about it, either.” 

Your throat dried in an instant, but you nodded, anyway. “I’ll see what I can do.” 

A relieved smile brightened her features. “Thank you so much, love. Oh, and merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” you smiled, waving at the woman as she squeezed your arm before heading to her car. 

You took a few more minutes to pull yourself back together again before finally knocking on the door. In moments, it creaked open again, and your heart cracked. You were almost expecting Sonya to open the door. Why, you weren’t sure, but when you suddenly came face to face with Newt, that skyscraper in your chest came crashing down. You could handle it every other time, because you had space. You could walk away. Here, you could see him, reach out and touch him, if you wanted to. 

Shaking out of your stupor, you opened your mouth to speak. 

But Newt beat you to it. 

“Go away.” And with that, the door slammed shut. 

He couldn���t handle seeing you like that. Not now. The space he’d put between the two of you and the door that he knew needed to remain closed was the only thing keeping him sane. Over the past month, the space he put between himself and the rest of the group was the only thing that kept him from exploding entirely. From kicking Thomas’ ass for ruining everything, from walking up to you and kissing you like you were the only thing keeping him alive. 

And then you knocked again. Newt ignored it, making his way to the stairs. 

Sonya stepped out of the kitchen. “Who’s at the door?”

“No one,” he snapped, stomping up the stairs. 

Sonya glared at her brother as he turned the corner. The stairs creaked as he went, filling the silence that seemed to be in their house more often than not these days. Then there was another knock at the door, and Sonya’s eyes darted between it and where her brother’s figure just was. With a sigh, Sonya approached the door, pulling it open again. Her eyes widened with surprise upon seeing you. “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

You smiled, hesitantly and slightly sad, as you picked at the strap on your backpack. “I wanted to, uh, to see Newt, actually. I still have his jacket, from the…” you paused, taking a deep breath. “I just thought I should give it back to him. It’s been a month now, so…” 

Sonya only nodded as the mood turned somber. 

Taking another breath, you slipped the backpack from your shoulder and began unzipping it. “Anyway, I have it here. Could you give it to him for me?” 

“Of course,” Sonya nodded as you pulled the perfectly folded jacket from the bag, handing it to her. 

Quietly, you thanked her and turned around. But there was something you had to ask of her, so you turned back around right before she closed the door. “Sonya,” you called out, and she opened the door again. “Could you tell him I miss him, at least? I know he probably doesn’t want to hear it, and maybe it doesn’t even matter anymore, but I need him to at least know that. Even if he doesn’t care anymore.” 

“I will.” She promised. “If he’s willing to listen to me, I’ll tell him.” 

It wasn’t much, but the crack in the dam was enough for the relief to start trickling in. You nodded once more at the girl, waving goodbye as she smiled at you, closing the door behind her. Making your way back to the car, you pulled the keys from your pocket, sliding them into the ignition and making your way home. 

You could only hope that things would start to get better for everyone soon.

series taglist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

...the unholy flames of ♥kink!week♥ burn brightly...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!) ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ the fires of unholy week rage still, but perhaps today the sinful and the sweet can mix — consider it a calm before the storm ∼

∼ day four brings us our beloved cop with a heart of gold ♥ Miranda Hilmarson ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

tags: #fluff and smut #cunnilingus #vaginal fingering #strap-ons #lesbian sex #bisexual character #gangbang #lesbian gangbang #porn #sex work #triple penetration #double penetration #face-fucking #face-sitting #butt slapping #face slapping #acted-out rape #pretend rape #degradation #verbal humiliation #handcuffs #prison sex #friends to lovers #rape fantasy #multiple orgasms #kink!week

...but we could be (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

Miranda is crunching on her cereal.

Very loudly. Robin waits for her to finish eating so she can concentrate. She counts to ten in her mind to calm down. Then she counts to twenty and then to fifty, and Miranda is still fucking eating. It sounds like she’s chewing on her own teeth.

Finally, she snaps. “Hilmarson, will you cut it out?”

“Whaf?” she asks, mouth full, eyes wide. She looks like a kicked puppy.

“The chewing. It’s fucking annoying.”

If Miranda was a puppy, her ears would droop. She looks down at the desk and swallows a mouthful of cereal. “Oh. Sorry.”

Robin returns to typing on her computer. Finally, some fucking peace and quiet—

“I shouldn’t overeat, anyway. I was just so hungry. I’m going to brunch later, you know.”

“Hm,” Robin grumbles, not wanting to incite further conversation — and it works. Miranda is no longer crunching on her goddamn cereal, she’s no longer talking, and Robin can finally work in peace. 

The fucking brunch is bothering her though.

“Since when do you eat brunch?” she can’t help but ask. She never imagined Miranda to be the sort of person who eats brunch.

“Oh, I don’t usually — I only eat brunch with my pornstar friends!”

Robin almost chokes on her own spit. “Your what?”

“My pornstar friends,” she says, beaming.

“Right.” Robin hates that she wants to know more about this. “And those are… friends from school that went on to become pornstars?”

“Oh, no. We know each other from the shoot. I starred in a video, you know.” She sounds proud as she says it.

Robin blinks. “You starred… in a porno?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah! It was like an all-girl gangbang scene in a women’s prison. And all the girls were super nice so we stayed in touch. We get brunch every couple of weeks.”

Robin stopped listening on the gangbang part. She shakes her head. “Hilmarson, I’m sorry, but what the fuck?”

“I’ve been asked, you know. I was on my way to the gym and this really nice lady approached me and told me they need someone tall for a shoot they’re doing, and asked me if I’d be comfortable filming a sex scene. And I said, depends, you know. I wouldn’t do any piss stuff, that’d be nasty. Then she told me it’s an all girl gangbang scene and I couldn’t believe it! That’s been my fantasy since I was a teen!”

“Your fantasy?” Robin repeats. All of this sounds like a fever dream, and something that could definitely only happen to Miranda.

“Yeah! People have asked me to do sex work before, you know. Because of, well,” she gestures to herself, waving her arms up and down, “this. I’ve been asked to be an escort, but that just seemed, oh, I don’t know. Rather bleak.”

Robin can’t imagine a bleaker job than being a police officer, but she says nothing.

“I usually say no when people ask, though — but I couldn’t say no to this. It was a once in a lifetime chance!”

Robin blinks really, really slowly, trying to process what she just heard. 

Miranda’s face suddenly lights up. “Oh! Oh! I can show you!” 

Robin shakes her head. “What?” she asks, but Miranda is already scooting over to Robin’s desk on her chair. Before Robin knows it, Miranda is sitting next to her and grabbing her keyboard.

“It’s available online. It’s on a payed website, but I have access to it. Just a sec,” she says as she types in the address.

Robin grabs the keyboard from her, and Miranda gives her a wide-eyed look. “Are you fucking mental? You can’t search for porn at a police station! And we certainly can’t watch that here!”

“Oh. Right,” she says, looking a bit embarrassed. She seems to genuinely not have thought of that. “Well, we could watch it at my place.”

Robin can’t believe her ears. “Sorry, what?”

“We could watch it at my place,” Miranda repeats. “We can get popcorn and beer, and I can show you.”

Robin scoffs in bewilderment. “I won’t watch your porn, Hilmarson. That’d be weird.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Well, I’m fine with it. It’s really hot, you know. And it wouldn’t be weird. We wouldn’t like, watch the whole thing. We could just watch the beginning, before the action starts. It’s really cool. All the girls are amazing actresses, it’s really realistic. Well, until the part with the sex toys. There’s no way they could get away with having those in prison.”

“Absolutely not.”

There’s no way she’s watching porn with Miranda — especially not Miranda-porn. 

“Oh. Okay,” she says, disappointed, and rolls her chair back to her desk.

They continue to work in silence, but Robin can’t focus. Something’s bothering her.

“I didn’t know you were into girls,” she finally says.

She glances at Miranda, who opens up her drawer and pulls out a bag of chips. Her cereal sits forgotten next to her. 

“It didn’t come up.” Miranda opens the bag and shoves a fistful of chips into her mouth. Robin recoils at the horrifying crunching noise and turns her gaze back to the computer screen.

Miranda crunches on her chips for a couple of seconds before asking a question, Robin doesn’t want to answer — but she supposes it’s fair of Miranda to ask, since Robin was the one who broached the subject.  “Are you into girls, Griffin?”

“Not usually,” she says. She doesn’t really wanna talk about it.

“But sometimes?” Miranda asks, still crunching away.

“I guess.”

She lifts her gaze and finds Miranda looking at her with curiosity, munching on her chips. “I thought you had a bit of a vibe,” Miranda says.

“I don’t have a vibe.”

Miranda shrugs. “Okay. I’m not very good at telling, anyway. Girls like me, you know. I think it’s the height. I rarely have to approach first.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Okay,” Miranda says. “Want chips?”

“No.”

Robin hears Miranda shove the bag back into the drawer. They both continue to work in silence. Robin’s finding it hard to concentrate on work, but she refuses to stop. Her thoughts wander.

It never occurred to her that Miranda might be into women. She doesn’t know why the thought plagues her. It’s nothing special — many women are into other women. Robin has had… experiences. Not her thing, really. Except that one time — but that was its own sort of disaster.

She always thought Miranda had horrible taste in men. Her brother is a prime example, as well as their boss — just garbage man after garbage man. Women are at least prettier, if nothing else — even when their personalities are garbage. Maybe Miranda would do better finding a nice woman for herself. She hopes her taste in women is better than in men, but her hopes aren’t high — Miranda is sort of a walking disaster with no self-preservation instincts. Who accepts to star in a porno after being approached on the street?

About ten minutes pass in silence. Robin doesn’t work — instead she thinks about Miranda’s love life — and then the very subject of her thoughts interrupts her ruminating by speaking again.

“Hey, wanna have brunch with us? I’d really love for you to meet the girls. You’ll love them, I swear. They’re really nice.”

Unlike Miranda, Robin didn’t have breakfast, nor chips, and she can hear her stomach growling. She should probably eat something.

Ah, what the hell.

“Sure,” she says. 

Miranda squeaks — she’s practically vibrating with excitement.

Robin really hopes she won’t regret this.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

“Miranda! Miranda!” a group of five pretty young women squeals from across the restaurant. 

“Ohmygod, hiiii!” Miranda squeals back and scurries towards the girls. She pulls each of them into a bone crushing hug. They all reach up to her shoulders — they are absolutely tiny compared to her. Robin can’t imagine what that fucking video must have looked like.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, Mirandy!” one of them says, squished against Miranda’s chest. 

“I’ve missed you too!”

They all hug and scream and Robin just stands there, feeling like she’s witnessing a sorority girls reunion in an American rom-com. She’s already regretting this. “Everybody, meet Robin,” Miranda says after they’re done screaming, her face beaming in delight. Robin hates to admit that she looks kind of cute, all happy and glowing like this. “She’s gonna join us for brunch today.”

The nearest of the girls goes to pull her in a hug. “Hi, Robin! I’m Tracy.”

Robin scoots away. “Not a hugger. Sorry,” she says.

“Oh,” the girl says, clearly disappointed. 

“Oh, sorry, should’ve told you we are all huggers,” Miranda says to Robin, then turns to the girls. “She always acts all mean, but really she’s a delight. She’s the best partner one could wish for.”

“Work partner,” Robin adds, wanting to make it clear right off the bat that she and Miranda are not involved. They’re not even friends. “We’re work colleagues.”

The rest of the girls introduce themselves a bit more coldly, shaking her hand, and she immediately forgets their names. They’re all eyeing her up and down, studying her — it’s all rather awkward. 

“We should sit down,” Miranda says, smiling, oblivious to the awkwardness, and they all sit down at the big table the girls have already occupied beforehand. Robin spends the brunch eating her food and minding her business. The girls try to include her in the conversation a couple of times, but once they realise she keeps giving one word replies to everything and doesn't speak unless directly spoken to, they slowly give up.

It doesn’t take a particularly observant person to see that the girls absolutely adore Miranda. They’re very touchy-feely with her, they all look at her with wide adoring eyes, and they seem to find her jokes genuinely funny. Robin can see why Miranda likes to hang out with them. Nobody at the police station treats her like that, that’s for sure. 

The entire thing has a bit of a “schoolgirls at a sleepover” vibe, but gayer. All of the girls are very clearly into Miranda — they touch her uniform, ruffle her hair, give her an occasional peck on the cheek — and Miranda just sits there, looking absolutely delighted by everything that’s going on, radiating major golden retriever vibes, seemingly oblivious to the fact that these girls would clearly gladly fuck her again (that much is obvious even to Robin). There’s also lots of giggling and talking about clothes (she didn’t know Miranda was into clothes — but then again she did seem to be delighted by Prada shoes that one time). Robin’s just waiting for them to start braiding each other’s hair. The whole thing makes her uncomfortable, especially the physical affection — and on top of that, she’s never been the girly type. In fact, girls like that bullied her in school. She always thought Miranda was similar in that regard, but it looks like she was wrong. 

She seems to be learning a lot of things about Miranda today.

She can’t wait for the whole thing to be over. The food was good, but not good enough to justify the torturous socialising she, for some unknown reason, willingly subjected herself to. She’s relieved when they all start getting up from the table. 

She tries to move to the side and wait for Miranda to say her goodbyes, hoping no one will talk to her again — and she almost succeeds in her plan.

One of the girls — the one with jet black hair down to her butt and an eyebrow slit (she believes her name is Sydney or maybe Sally) — approaches her. 

“Can I help you?” Robin asks rudely. 

“Yes, actually, you can,” the girl says. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck your thing is with Mir and it’s none of my business — I know she likes a tough bitch — but if you break her heart I will fucking cut you, get it?”

Robin scoffs. “What?” 

“You heard me. That girl is a fucking delight. If you dim her light, we will all cut you.

“You might want to think before you threaten me. I’m a police officer,” Robin says, so pissed she doesn’t even try to explain she and Miranda are definitely not an item.

Sally — or Sydney — simply raises an eyebrow and eyes her up and down. “We’ve got contacts in the police, bitch. Watch out.”

And with that, she turns. “Mir-mir!” she yells and hurries towards Miranda. “I didn’t get my hug!”

Robin just watches Miranda hug whatever-her-name-is, shocked, mouth agape. She says nothing further as she and Miranda leave the restaurant. She doesn’t bother to wave at the girls, or even spare them a second glance.

“So? What do you think? Aren’t they amazing?” Miranda asks the second they step onto the street. Her voice is high-pitched with excitement. “With them I feel like I’m finally part of the girl’s club. It’s so nice.”

She doesn’t even look at Miranda, just keeps on walking. Miranda just follows her like a puppy. 

“I didn’t know you were a girly girl.”

“Oh, I never used to be. Girls like them used to bully me in school. And look at me now,” she says proudly. “I really came a long way.”

“It’s because they want to fuck you,” Robin says before she can stop herself.

“Oh, that’s not the only reason. They were really nice to me at the shoot, and they really didn’t have to be. I was very nervous, and they did their best to make me comfortable.”

Robin scoffs. “One of them threatened to, I quote, ‘cut me’ if I break your heart. The one with black hair.”

“Oh, Samantha?”

(Okay — so neither Sydney nor Sally.)

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that,” Miranda says carefully. “It’s just something you say.”

“Yeah, when people are an item. But you and I are not an item.” 

“Oh, they know that.”

Robin stops walking and looks Miranda in the eyes. “Do they?”

Miranda just laughs. “Yeah! You told them, and then I told them again.” 

She pauses for a second. 

“Besides, I know you wouldn’t spare me a second glance,” she adds and gives Robin a little smile — the smile of a person who’s used to not getting picked first and is completely okay with it. For some reason, it breaks Robin’s heart.

She frowns. “It’s not that I wouldn’t.”

Miranda’s eyes light up. “You would? Okay, so like, if you didn’t know me, and we met randomly at a bar, would you buy me a drink?”

Robin sighs and starts walking again. “I don’t know, Hilmarson. Maybe. I’d have to be drunk.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, I’d be drunk too!” she says and happily scurries after her. “Oh, that’s nice to know. I’d totally let you buy me a drink.”

Robin says nothing further. They walk in silence for a while until they reach the police station.

When Miranda goes to enter the building, Robin stops her. “Wait,” she says. 

Miranda turns and looks at her with those big, blue, puppy eyes. “Yes?”

Robin doesn’t know what possessed her. 

“If I agree to see the video, do you promise to tell those girls once and for all that we are not together?”

“Oh, you don’t have to watch it if you don’t want to. And they know we’re not together.”

“Tell them again.”

“Okay, sure,” she says.

They stand like that for a long moment, neither of them moving. “Uh… do you want to… see the video?” Miranda finally asks, confused.

Robin purses her lips. “It will plague me if I don’t. But we stop at the actual porn part.”

Miranda’s entire face lights up. “Of course,” she chirps. “Oh, I’ll get snacks and everything, it’s gonna be so much fun, I promise! Come to mine around eight?”

“Sure.”

She ignores Miranda the rest of the day, but Miranda is in such a good mood that she doesn't seem to mind — or notice — at all.

Robin doesn’t know why she did it. She supposes it’s her morbid curiosity — or perhaps it’s that sometimes she gets awfully lonely in her flat at night, and she would appreciate some company. Miranda is obnoxious, but she’s the only person that Robin didn’t manage to chase away with her foul attitude — not for the lack of trying. 

Miranda is not someone Robin would normally pick as a friend, but she has to admit that Miranda is a very good friend. Robin knows she could count on her if needed — and now that she thinks about it, if her place was burning down, Miranda would be the first person she’d call — because she knows Miranda would answer. 

Miranda has shit taste in men, but maybe Robin has shit taste in friends. And maybe she needs someone like Miranda to keep her at least somewhat fit for society. Without her, she’d become a true hermit. 

…

Still — is it weird to watch porn with a work colleague? 

She decides not to dwell on it — she already agreed to the thing, anyway. And it’s Miranda — there’s no way it could lead to anything sexual. Worst case scenario, it’ll be awkward, and then they’ll never mention it again.

With that thought, she closes the subject in her mind and continues to work undisturbed until the end of her shift.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

When Miranda opens the door that evening, she’s grinning from ear to ear. Robin can’t get an image of an excited puppy out of her head. 

“Hiii!” she says, moving aside so Robin can enter. Robin’s eyes wander to her flimsy, almost see-through T-shirt. 

“Couldn’t you have found a proper shirt to put on?” she grumbles, moving past her and walking towards the living room. She knows where everything is — after all, all the apartments in this building are more or less the same. 

Miranda glances down towards her own chest. “Oh, I just forgot. These are my PJs.” She scurries after Robin, following her to the couch. “Why, Griffin? You into me?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear. “You wanna daaaate me and make loooooove to me?”

Robin sits down and on the couch, crossing her arms and legs. Miranda plops down on the couch next to her, making kissing noises into the air. The couch bounces with the force of Miranda’s weight being thrown on it. 

“If you continue to be weird about this, I will leave.”

She won’t leave. Robin hates to admit it, but she’s feeling a bit weepy tonight. She would really appreciate some human contact — but she will be grumpy about it

“If it really bothers you, I can change,” Miranda says. 

“Forget it,” Robin grumbles. 

“Okay. Want a beer?”

“Sure.”

She could use a beer. Or seven. She can’t believe she’s about to watch Miranda’s fucking porno — even if it is only the intro.

Miranda disappears into the kitchen and quickly comes back with two opened beers and a bucket of popcorn. She puts the popcorn on the little coffee table in front of the couch and hands one beer to Robin. “Here you go. Do you want a glass?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” She takes a big swig.

“Someone’s thirsty,” Miranda says as she sits down, taking a sip as well. She makes herself comfortable, lifting her long legs (that, Robin notices, look even longer and leaner in the black tights she’s wearing) onto the couch and crossing them. The way she moves, all tall and lanky, reminds Robin of a baby deer. 

“It’s just been a day,” Robin says.

Miranda furrows her brows. “Has it? You typed on your laptop and had brunch.”

Robin shrugs, staring at the bowl of popcorn on the table, not looking at Miranda or her flimsy fucking shirt. “Well, it’s been a day in my brain, I guess.”

“Oh. I get it. I have those too, sometimes. You PMS-ing?”

Robin takes another swig of her beer. “None of your business.”

“So grumpy,” Miranda tuts. “So, you wanna get right to it? I have it all set up on the TV.”

“Sure.”

Robin drinks her beer, feeling a bit fragile. Maybe she is about to get her period. She shouldn’t for another two weeks, but maybe it’s early. Being with someone really helps, though — and so does the beer.

Miranda grabs the remote from the coffee table and fumbles with it a little bit. “Okay, so it’s connected to the tablet… alright, here we go.”

A big title appears on the screen. 

Girlbang series production — Fun In Prison

  Robin already regrets this. “I still can’t believe you agreed to that. You’re a police officer. Did they at least blur your face?”

Miranda presses pause. “Oh, they asked me if I wanted them to, and I said no.”

Robin chokes on her beer. “Why?”

“Oh, I just think it’d ruin the viewer’s experience. Besides, it’s on a paid website. Nobody in their right mind pays for porn.” She cranes her head towards Robin and Robin finally makes eye contact. She tries very hard not to stare at her chest. It’s not that Miranda has such amazing tits, it’s just that you can’t just not look at someone’s tits if they’re right fucking there. “Have you ever paid for porn?”

“No?” Robin says.

“Precisely.”

Robin scoffs, and then chuckles. “So. Wanna tell me about the plot?”

“Oh, yes!” She bounces on the couch, grinning excitedly, her eyes twinkling. Robin must admit, when she isn’t being annoying, she is rather endearing. “They didn’t even plan on filming a prison scene before they hired me, it was supposed to be just a regular gangbang. But then I told that lady that I’m a cop, and she lost her mind. She told me, Miranda, I’m ready to beg you to do a prison scene — and I said, oh you don’t have to beg, I’ll do it, that’s like, so hot. You ever seen Orange Is The New Black?”

“No.”

Miranda sighs. “Babe, you live under a rock.”

Robin just shrugs and drinks some more of her beer.

“Anyway, the plot is basically that I’m a cop who gets ambushed while doing nightly rounds and then they all fuck me and it’s really hot.”

“Sounds very complex,” Robin deadpans.

“It’s better when you see the visuals. And all the girls are reeeeally hot — but you already know that.”

“I’m sure you’re hot too. Like, those girls seemed into you today.”

“Told you — it’s the height.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’ve got other things going.”

Miranda looks at her with those big, blue puppy eyes and Robin feels a wave of affection wash over her like a fucking disease. 

“Like what?” she asks, and Robin can see the question is genuine.

“I don’t know, Hilmarson, but you do,” she mumbles grumpily. “I can’t think of anything right now, you put me on the spot. Let’s just watch the thing.”

She can think of at least a couple of things — but it feels weird to hand out compliments. She can’t force herself to push the words out of her mouth.

Miranda looks a bit disappointed. “Sure,” she says and presses play.

Robin has to admit — this thing isn’t half bad, as far as pornos go. The acting is not terrible (except Miranda’s, which is tragic). The prison uniforms look correct, and Miranda’s does as well — it’s a bit tighter than it needs to be, but Robin thinks it suits her. It shows off her long legs. Miranda actually looks good, and they put some very natural makeup on her. 

Miranda towers over every girl, and it looks a bit ridiculous when the first one comes up to her and shoves her against the wall. That’s, however, when Miranda’s acting really improves — and Robin suspects it’s because she isn’t acting anymore. She looks like she’s really into it.

The intro is long — longer than Robin thought it would be, but she supposes that’s how it is with high quality porn you gotta fucking pay for — and Robin is on her second beer and already drunk, and she can’t stop thinking about how disappointed Miranda looked when she refused to compliment her and she also can’t stop thinking about her tits in that see-through shirt and about her puppy eyes, and wow, that girl pinned her on the bed and bit her neck and Miranda’s moan is really sexy and fuck, that was really hot. Another girl rips off her shirt and Miranda is now only in a lacy blue bra and Robin can see her nipples, and suddenly she’s hyperaware of the fact that she could also see her nipples if she just turned a bit to the left and—

Miranda pauses the video. 

“That’s the intro,” she says, glancing towards Robin. “What do you think?”

“It’s good,” Robin says and her voice is much squeakier than she intended it to be. She clears her throat. “It’s good.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that? You don’t look like you like it. You’re doing that weird face.”

Robin frowns. “What weird face?”

“That weird face you always do. You scrunch your nose and look annoyed.”

“I think that’s just my face.”

“Oh.”

They sit in awkward silence for a bit, and then Robin turns to Miranda to fully face her.

“I’m a bitch,” she says.

Miranda furrows her brows. “What?”

“I’m a bitch. I’m a bitch to you, I’m a bitch to everyone. Everybody in their right mind has already left me. Why won’t you leave?”

Miranda is silent for a moment. She places her beer down on the coffee table. “Do you… want me to leave you?”

“No.”

“Why? You don’t seem to like me. You couldn’t even think of one thing to compliment me on.”

“That’s because I’m a bitch. But I do like you. And yes, you do annoy me, but I think you have many good qualities. You’re loyal and kind, even when everybody’s being terrible to you, including myself. Your jokes aren’t funny, but they cheer me up. And you have much more going for you than your height. You have nice tits and really long legs and pretty eyes, and no man I ever saw you fool around with was ever worthy of you.”

Miranda stares at her, at a loss for words. “Do you really think that?” she slowly asks.

“Yes. I really don’t understand why you didn’t ditch me a long time ago, though.” She averts her eyes, then takes another sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’m worthy of you either.”

Robin can feel the couch shift as Miranda scoots closer to her. Miranda takes the beer from her hand and places it on the coffee table, then grabs her by the shoulders. “Robin. Robin, look at me.”

Robin reluctantly meets her gaze. She doesn’t think they’ve ever been this close. She can feel Miranda’s breath on her face, and the only thing she can think about is that Miranda’s eyes are very blue.

“I think you’re a good person,” Miranda says. Robin glances at her lips. They are very pink. “You’ve just been through a lot. I like you, and I want to be your friend. I won’t just leave if you’re acting like a bitch sometimes.”

Robin kisses her. 

Miranda squeaks, but she doesn’t pull away. Robin grabs her neck and her waist and pulls her closer and then Miranda is kissing her back. She hums into the kiss and it drives Robin wild, and then she pushes her tongue into Miranda’s mouth and Miranda immediately welcomes it. They kiss like they’re hungry, and Miranda is a sloppy kisser but somehow in a good way, and Robin loves it, loves how warm and wet her tongue is, and how big her hands feel on her waist. Miranda whimpers when Robin’s hands wander to her tits. She finally indulges into what she’s been thinking about the entire evening and gropes Miranda over her shirt. 

Miranda pulls away. “Fuck,” she breathes out. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes. But I also want to watch the porno till the end. I want to see you get fucked, and then I want to fuck you.”

Miranda’s eyes go dark with desire and she kisses her again, then pulls away. “No problem,” she says, grinning a bit mischievously. She pushes Robin back into the couch. “Lie back and relax. I’ll eat you out while you watch.” 

Robin can’t remember the last time someone ate her out, and her pussy throbs just thinking about it. “Okay,” she says with a breathy voice. Miranda presses play and the video takes off where they paused it — a closeup of Miranda’s tits in the lacy blue bra.

Miranda pushes away the coffee table and sinks down on the floor, getting onto her knees in front of Robin. Robin’s chest is heaving and she can feel her cheeks flushing as Miranda unzips her jeans. “Up,” she says, and Robin lifts her hips. Miranda pulls down her jeans and underwear in one swift move, pulling them over her knees and feet and discarding them on the floor, leaving her completely bare and exposed. Robin almost feels self-conscious, almost tells her to wait, to slow down — but then Miranda looks at her bare pussy with such lust and adoration in her gaze that Robin just can’t feel embarrassed anymore. 

“It’s… It’s been a while since I’ve had someone do this to me,” she says breathlessly. 

“Just relax. I’ll take care of you,” Miranda says, and she also sounds a bit out of breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark. Robin fixes her gaze onto the screen.

  Miranda’s pants are already gone. She’s lying on the bed, handcuffed, her chest and cheeks flushed. One of the girls is straddling her waist and groping her tits underneath her bra, two are kissing and biting her neck, ears and jaw, two are stroking her long legs and slapping her thighs. Miranda is breathing heavily. Her eyes are hazy and dark, her lips parted. The girl straddling her pulls off her bra, ripping it apart and exposing her small, perky tits. Miranda gasps. One of the girls kissing her neck takes her tit into her mouth and bites her nipple, making her cry out. “Fuck,” Miranda breathes out.

“That’s what we’re gonna do to you,” one of the girls says. “Fuck you until you can’t fucking walk, bitch.” The one straddling her starts slapping her tits, the other slaps her cheek, and one of them yanks her panties down. The camera zooms in on Miranda’s pink, dripping cunt.

  Robin lets out a breathy moan — both because of the visual on the screen, and because of Miranda lightly biting the inside of her thigh. She is gentle, reverent — kissing and licking Robin’s thighs, running her thumbs along where Robin’s thighs meet her vulva. Robin is squirming and breathing hard, and she’s surprised how much she’s affected by Miranda’s teasing. 

Finally, Miranda gives Robin’s pussy a hot, long lick — Robin shivers and moans. Miranda’s tongue is warm and wet against her pussy, and she wants more. She grabs her head, tangles her fingers into Miranda’s soft, blonde hair and pulls her closer. Miranda grins into her cunt and starts giving her pussy long, fervent licks.

  One of the girls is fastening a strap around her hips. She hovers over Miranda’s face, lowering her pussy down to Miranda’s mouth, the strap grazing Miranda’s forehead. “Eat my pussy, pretty cop,” she says, and starts riding Miranda’s face. The strap bounces up and down and hits Miranda’s face as the girl grinds her hips and Miranda licks her cunt with fervour — you can tell she’s really into it. One girl is slapping her tits, and the other produces another strap, lubes it up and shoves it into Miranda’s cunt. Miranda’s stomach muscles contract as the girl stretches her out and then starts fucking her at a relentless pace. She’s whimpering and moaning, her face covered in drool and the other girl’s arousal. “Such a tight pussy. Does it hurt, pretty cop?” the girl fucking her mocks her and Miranda can only whimper.    Miranda’s pussy eating is sloppy. She licks and sucks and smears her own drool and Robin’s wetness around with her tongue. She shoves her tongue inside of her, sucks on her pussy lips, licks her clit. 

Robin loves it. 

She’s never felt so worshipped and adored. In the past, when people ate her out, they usually just wanted to be done with it. Miranda is the complete opposite — perhaps she’s sloppy, but she eats her like she’s devouring her favourite meal. She’s taking her time, really getting in there, and she looks like she’s enjoying herself a lot. She’s humming and whimpering along with Robin. The room is filled with sounds from the video mixed with their own, real-time moans, and it shouldn’t be hot, but it is. “Fuck,” Robin gasps as Miranda finds a really good spot. “Do that again, fuck!”

Miranda is really good at following directions — and she really wants to please. She repeats the movement that made Robin cry out many times, and Robin’s thighs start trembling. “Fuck, Miranda,” she pants, and saying her name only spurs Miranda on, and she slips one finger into her dripping cunt and starts slowly fucking her. Robin keens. “Fuck, don’t stop!”

  The girls throw Miranda on the floor, making her kneel on all fours. Her wrists are still handcuffed. One of the girls spits in her mouth. “Suck my cock, slut,” she then says and shoves her strap into Miranda’s mouth. Miranda looks so hot sucking it — the camera zooms in on her face, on her wide and pretty blue eyes as she looks up at the girl fucking her face. The girl grabs her hair and shoves the strap deeper. Miranda’s eyes tear up as she gags, but she never stops sucking, bobbing her back and forth. “What a good slut you are,” the girl says. Miranda whimpers as two girls start spanking her ass, and the other starts fucking her asshole with a dildo.  The girl fucking her mouth pulls the strap out. “You love it. Say you love it.”

“No,” Miranda says, and Robin can tell it’s the script she must follow, because her eyes say yes and she cranes her neck to take the strap into her mouth again.  “Fucking liar. I know you love it, slut,” the girl says and grabs her hair, starts fucking her mouth faster than before. Tears stream down Miranda’s cheeks and she moans in pleasure as her mouth and ass are fucked relentlessly and her ass is spanked until it becomes bright red.

  Miranda slips another finger inside Robin, and Robin moans loudly. Miranda starts fucking her harder and licking her clit faster. “Yes, yes, yes,” Robin whimpers, pulling Miranda closer. Miranda moans as Robin pulls on her hair, and Robin starts rocking her hips against Miranda’s mouth.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” Miranda keens as she rides a girl’s strap, while another girl fucks her from behind. Her face and chest are red, there are beads of sweat on her back and forehead, her hair is ruffled, her eyes closed and her brows furrowed with pleasure. Another girl kneels in front of her and shoves her strap in Miranda’s mouth again, muffling her cries of pleasure. The other two girls are pleasuring themselves, watching Miranda get fucked in every hole. The girl underneath her gropes her tits and the one behind her slaps her ass as they fuck her. 

The girl fucking her mouth pulls on her hair. “That’s it, you’re gonna come from this like a dirty slut,” she says and pulls the strap out of her mouth, and Miranda screams as pleasure overwhelms her. The girls don’t stop fucking her, and she keeps moaning and screaming and rocking her hips. “Fuckyes,” she cries as another wave of ecstasy washes over her.

  “Ah, Miranda,” Robin cries, “don’t stop — ah, fuck!” She feels herself clenching around Miranda’s fingers. She grinds on Miranda’s face, and Miranda hums and moans into her pussy, fucks her hard and fast until the tight coil in Robin’s belly snaps and she comes — hard. 

“Shit — fuck!” she cries. Miranda continues to fuck her and doesn’t stop licking her clit. Robin feels the tension build again, and before she knows it a second orgasm washes over her like a wave. She keens and clenches her thighs around Miranda’s head, trying to push her away from her sensitive clit. Miranda slowly pulls her fingers out of her and continues to gently lick her through the aftershocks. Robin’s thighs tremble. “Fuck,” she says breathlessly, her muscles convulsing as Miranda gives her aching clit a small kitten lick.

When Robin looks at the TV again, the screen is black.

She glances down at Miranda kneeling in between her legs. Miranda smiles and wipes her mouth on her forearm. She gives Robin that pretty, wide eyed look that Robin can’t admit she loves. 

“Do you have a strap?” Robin asks. 

“Yeah. Want me to fuck you with the strap?” Miranda asks, still a bit out of breath, climbing back up on the couch.

“No. I want to fuck you with it and make you moan like you did in the porno.”

Miranda’s face lights up. She smiles at Robin, grabs her arm and leads her towards the bedroom.

Miranda comes three times that night. After making her admit she came five times on the set, Robin makes a pact with herself to reach that number next time — but right now, she’s very, very sleepy.

As they lie next to each other on the bed, Miranda tentatively reaches for Robin’s hand. Robin doesn’t pull away. They stay like that for a bit, and then Robin rolls over and wraps her arm around Miranda’s waist. She can tell Miranda loves it.

“So, what are we now?” Miranda asks as she rubs little circles on her back.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks into Miranda’s chest, knowing very well what she means.

“I mean, are we an item?”

Robin waits a moment before she responds. 

“Not yet,” she says. “But… we could be.”

With her face buried in Miranda’s torso, she can’t see her smile.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Big thanks to @opheliauniverse for beta-reading. <3

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @i-have-insane-that-i-am-paper @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @alexusonfire @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @softshrimpy @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz

[underthe-redhood]

our last chance

- a/n: it's mentioned that the reader is the daughter of bruce and selina, but it's never mentioned that she's biologically related, so you could definitely interpret it as her being adopted by them!

7. step one: arm’s length

- synopsis\\ you watch as dick runs off after batman betrays him for the last time, causing the family to fall apart. after an explosion, and a time machine, with a speedster to help you, you have one last chance to stop history from repeating itself.

• word count: 2,252

• masterlist

you sat in your room staring at the grey clock hanging on your wall. it was ticking away towards noon, and you had yet to go downstairs. you'd been up for a few hours, but you couldn't bring yourself to go down there until you were sure you were ready to start step one. you and bart agreed that to start things off, you needed to distance dick from barbara because the less attached he is the less everything will hurt should you fail to stop the affair.

     but how? you were gonna start by getting in the way of them spending time together, which you didn't think babs would mind too much. and you were planning on pushing him close to his other friends like kori and wally. but, would that be enough? you got up from your desk and walked over to your bed to lay back down. you couldn't stay in your room forever, you were on a time limit.

     maybe you could try what bart does and plan as you go? it sounded new, and it sounded uncomfortable. but it worked for bart, so maybe it'd work for you? either way, nothing would get done if you stayed in your room so you got up went to find dick. it wasn't quite noon yet, so you started by checking the kitchen. as you assumed, he was sitting there eating cereal with tim.

     "hey y/n," tim said as you walked over to them and sat next to him.

     "hey timmy, are either of you doing anything today?"

     "i have plans with wally, why what's up?" dick said.

     "nothing really, i just have a boring day ahead of me," you told him. "is bart coming with you?"

     "bart?" tim asked, confused as to why you were bringing him up. you had to remember that at this point in time you'd seen him maybe once or twice in passing.

     "yeah, flash's grandson right?" you said smoothly, then looked back at dick.

     "i'm not sure, why?" dick asked. he was eyeing you suspiciously. you'd already let it slip to him that you'd hung out with bart once. you didn't wanna mess anything up for yourself.

     "if he's gonna be there, can i come along too?" if not to watch how dick is doing, you at least wanted to hang out with bart. even with all the time you'd already been spending with him, you kinda just wanted to see him more.

"since when have you liked hanging out with bart? i didn't even know you knew him," tim said, also suspicious now. you kinda forgot to think about how were you gonna explain it to him.

"neither did i," dick said, leading you further into a corner where you'd have to explain yourself.

"well i don't, not yet anyway," you said, it was a lame response but what else were you gonna say.

"and you want to because?" tim continued, if you were gonna take an interest in one of his best friends then he was gonna find out exactly why.

"he's cute," you blurred out. cute? well, you'd officially screwed yourself over. dick's eyes widened and tim's mouth was slightly open in shock.

"you can't date him"/"bart's off limits", they both shouted.

"keep your voices down before someone hears you, jesus! that's not how i meant that," but was it? "so can i come or not?"

"absolutely not," dick said. you saw this coming the second those words left your mouth.

time to say something else that was gutsy, "if bart is there i'm coming. i'm not gonna date him, so you don't have to freak out," you said.

"in that case i'm coming too," tim chimed in. "i wanna make sure there's nothing already going on between the two of you." maybe winging it wasn't gonna work out too well for you.

~~~~~

     "i thought you were planning on going somewhere," you said to dick, unenthusiastically.

     "the batcave is somewhere," he said, tossing a batarang up into the air and catching it.

     "somewhere out," you clarified. you turned your attention over to tim who was sitting on the ground, lost in thought and mumbling to himself. "are you okay?" you asked him.

     "i just don't get what you see in him," he started. you'd been waiting for wally to show up, hopefully with bart, and you were all bored out of your minds. "i mean, he's bart!"

     "glad to see you think so highly of your best friend," you said sarcastically.

     "you know what i mean," he said. "do you even really remember what he looks like? how can you be sure he's actually cute?" he whined.

     "timmy, i meant that in a friendly way i swear!" you were hoping the speedsters would show up soon and end this conversation.

     "what does that even mean! besides, what makes you think he's even gonna show up," tim said. he had a point, but only because he didn't know what you knew. you were sure bart would show up to see you and dick, but you couldn't explain that.

     so instead, you just went with another lame excuse, "he'll probably show up because he knows you're here." as you finished saying that, another realization crossed your mind. bart didn't know that you'd accidentally called him cute. he was gonna get grilled by tim, and maybe even dick, without really knowing why. you'd tell him, but how do you just casually tell someone you called them cute to your brothers?

     you decided bart was just gonna have to manage, you'd make it up to him somehow later. thankfully, the zeta tubes finally glowed and two lit up figures stepped out. "hey dick," wally greeted. "i hope you don't mind that i brought bart along, he kept pestering me about seeing tim because apparently seeing him all the time at titans tower isn't enough," wally sighed.

     you smiled, bart pulled through just like you knew he would. you could always count on him, and that meant more to you than you could express. bart smiled at you and sped over to where you and tim were and dick and wally started a conversation of their own. "hey bart," tim eyed him.

"hey tim?" bart raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to look at you hoping you'd say something to at least clue him in on what might be about to happen.

instead, you gave an apologetic look as tim continued, "what a coincidence seeing you here."

     bart looked like got what was happening, "well i knew you were gonna be here," he said. and that seemed to be enough for tim. you may have slipped up, but at least he thought it was one sided.

     then dick called out, "hey we're going on a donut run with barbara and artemis, do you want anything while we're out?" from the stairs.

     you replied with, "no we're good!" and tim looked over at you disappointed.

     "i wanted chocolate donuts," he said, but dick and wally were already in the elevator shaft.

     "i'll go tell him," you offered, and took that chance to leave as well. you went back to the manor, but the two of them were already gone of course. you paced around up stairs trying to think of a plan. maybe if you caused a fake scene or whatever then you'd be able to call batgirl to it and get her away from dick?

as bad as you felt about keeping him away from his girlfriend, you needed to keep them at arms length for his own good. you went back down to the batcave where tim and bart were now nerding out together. "i wasn't able to catch them, but maybe you and bart could just meet them there?"

"aren't they going on a double date? it'd be awkward if we just showed up for donuts," tim said.

"so then call stephanie and make it a triple date," you suggested.

"what about bart?" tim asked, and you replied maybe just a bit too quickly.

"bart will be fine!" you said, which made tim look at you weirdly. he then looked over at bart who only agreed with you. "plus it's not like dick is gonna mind, he always says the more the merrier," you added.

"yeah i guess," tim said as he pulled out his phone to call stephanie. he started walking back to the manor and called out, "i'll see you later." he probably assumed bart was going to home and you were thankful he actually left instead of staying to watch and make sure.

but then it hit you, "can you zeta back to central city and then run here? wait do you know how to get in without using the zeta tubes?" you said to him.

"yeah, i've done it a couple times with tim. but why do i need to leave and run back?" he asked, confused.

"because knowing dick he's gonna come back and check the zeta tube records and he's gonna get suspicious if he sees you never left even after tim joined them," you explained.

"why not just lie about dating or something, wouldn't that make it easier to sneak around for this plan?" he asked, and it took you a hot second to realize he was being fully serious.

"bart, that's sweet but have you met anyone in my family? you wouldn't live to help me with the second step," you said.

"you're exaggerating, right?" he asked oh so innocently.

"after living with damian i'm not so sure that i am," you told him. "if we ever date we'd have to keep it a secret."

"if we ever date?" he asked with a teasing tone and you immediately became hyper-aware of what you'd just said. at least it was salvageable.

"well i just, uh you know, like hypothetically," you stumbled all over your words.

and with that he shook his head with a quiet laugh and zeta'd back to central city. he then showed back up a couple minutes later and the two of you got to work. you walked over to the bat-computer and pulled up barbara's location.

who knew bruce's stalker habits would one day help you too. "maybe i can anonymously send her phone a random location in gotham and get her to show up?"

"won't she be able to eventually trace it back to the bat-computer though? how would you do that?" he asked. that made you think, and after a few moments you finally had a solid idea.

"okay so i think i have a plan, you should go to the café that they're at. if you can beat them there, which you probably can because tim is with them now, then you can tell me when you see babs look down at her phone and i can send a fake bat signal that looks real enough for her to take it seriously and show up, but also enough like a glitch for her to think that's what happened when she shows up to an empty alley.

"what about dick?" bart asked, which was reasonable but you didn't think you'd have to worry about it.

     "if we're fast enough then babs will tell him she had to dip and i bet she's gonna tell him she can handle it on his own and that he should stay with the others. i really don't think she's gonna go out of her way to spend time with him right now, which kinda makes this easier for us," you told him.

     "okay yeah, that makes sense," he said. "so should i run over now?"

     "yes, and hurry," you urged him. he sped off and about a minute and a half later you got a text from him.

bart: okay, she's sitting down at one of the booths  

i'm standing awkwardly at the bus stop across the street

          oh wait she's looking down at her phone!

     as soon as that text popped up you hit the button on the bat-computer that sent the signal. and then immediately canceled it. although you couldn't see it, barbara had a look of confusion on her face that was soon followed by a look of relief. as sad as it was, you were right. she was glad she didn't have to spend the day with dick, and so she took off.

bart: she's grabbing her jacket and getting up

          i think your plan worked!

you: yes!

         you should head back here before the others show up and see you

     he left you on read but about a minute and half later you were met with a gust of wind and bart. "so now that we have some free time," he smirked, "let's go back to what you said earlier."

     "what i said earlier?" you asked him. you were hoping he wasn't referencing what you assumed he was.

     "if we were to date," and somehow his smile grew just a little bit more.

     "it was just a hypothetical, i swear!" you said. he'd gotten his flirty personality from wally, no doubt. it was oddly likeable. but you just saw him as a friend, you were pretty sure. you just happened to sometimes say some silly things. that's all.

     "uh huh, whatever you say," he teased. but at this point, you were smiling too. well, you were smiling until you felt your phone buzzing. you pulled it out to see,

     INCOMING CALL: dick :3

taglist: @onepieceformeplease @purpleflower777 @neptunesxlover @fake-id-69 @missmystic-vampirebarbie @elarimard @nub-the-stub @xingqiusliegee @masset-fotia @ceridwyn3 @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @venomsvl

dm me to be removed or fill out the form in the masterlist to be added!