#but right now i'm wearing a sweater that lets me know far more than what a pair of shoes could tell me about that situation.

[biollyante]

i finished the Dead Body On The Boardwalk task in DE. I'm wearing the same sweater i was wearing 3 years ago, on the other side of the equation as a sheriff told my mother that my father is dead. Fuck. Holy Fuck. Shit. GOddamn.

i have to tell someone this but there's nobody i should tell.

[storiesaplenty]

Jelly Bracelets (1)

Eddie Munson x f/Reader

Jelly Bracelets Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: swearing.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me: 1st @lengthofropes 2nd: @billy-hoegrove

WC: 976

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: Do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Yellow - wearer is willing to hug

Eddie Munson may be the freak of Hawkins, but he is your best friend. Who is always willing to teach you new things, even when you get new bracelets from your cousin. Eddie will even go as far as teaching & showing you what each one means.

"You can not be serious Eddie." I exclaimed as I propped myself up on my elbow, leaning on my side as I laid on his bed.

He was sitting on the floor of his room, which I can tell he tried to clean up as he knew I was coming over.

He was looking for a magazine to show me that he was telling me the truth.

"I am very serious. I'm just trying to show you what," I zoned him out after that as he started to mutter to himself.

This all started when he saw the jelly bracelets on my arms.

His face was all serious when he asked me what I was wearing.

"Oh these?" I moved my sweater up a bit more and his eyes seemed to lock on every single one, taking in each colour.

"Yes those." His voice sounded tense.

"My cousin got them for me as an early birthday present. It is nice of her since she lives all the way in Maine, and she must have paid extra for me to get them as close to my birthday as possible."

"Do you even know what she sent you?"

"Yeah, bracelets." I replied, a bit confused, wondering where he was getting at with all of this.

"You know what they have been saying about these in the news right? I even read an article about them just the other day."

"Since when do you listen to the news?" I asked him as I flung myself onto his bed.

"They are calling them sex bracelets." Eddie said to me just as he started to look for this called article.

"Come on Eddie, we are supposed to meet Steve and Robin for lunch at Pizza Hut." I am getting impatient.

Him and I were supposed to spend some time together before we met up with those two, but he is just more concerned about proving himself right than spending time with me.

"You know Robin will make them be at least ten minutes late. We have time." He said as he threw a t-shirt behind him.

"Aha! I knew I didn't throw it away." He turned around and held up the magazine like it was a crown.

"Well, show me the article." I said as I sat up on the side of the bed.

He looked through the pages until he stopped and read the page for a few moments, then thrusting the magazine in my face, pointing at the article.

"See, look." I took it from his hands, my eyes scanning the page. Eddie sat down next to me on his bed, his body turned so he is facing me.

"This is all bullshit, just like the whole Dungeons and Dragons craziness. Which by the way, caused a witchhunt against the Hell Fire Club, if you recall."

"Yeah, yeah, but come on, this has to be true because how would this be known across the country if it wasn't true?"

"Eddie, I think you have smoked too much pot, and have lost some of your brain cells." I said, tossing the magazine on his pillow.

"Fine, don't believe me. I get it." Being the dramatic ass he is, he stood up, throwing his hands in the air, and then grabbing his keys.

"Get what?" I asked him.

"That I am right about them and you are wrong, now let's go and meet our friends before you make us late." He stood at his bedroom door, gesturing for me to walk past him.

When I did, I playfully slapped him across the arm and he chased me out of his trailer.

Eddie Munson's Pov:

The moment Robin saw those bracelets on her arm, it was like that is all Robin could talk about. She was listing off what every single colour means, as I just sat beside my best friend, watching her slump in her chair as I happily chewed on my pizza slice.

Steve was trying to change the subject, but once Robin was on a topic, well this is all that will be talked about.

"I mean, you can wear them if you want too, but just know that if someone snaps one, then you gotta do whatever that colour is." Robin said before she took a sip of her Pepsi.

"Robin, I do not have to, besides, I do have free-will and can just say no."

"So if I snapped this yellow one, you would be fine with it?" I asked her as I started to play with the yellow one, stroking my finger along it until I hooked my finger around it.

"What does it mean again?" She asked me, nervously biting her bottom lip. Such a cute thing, who has no idea what she does to me.

"Just a hug is all. Yellow means, wearing is willing to hug." I told her before snapping it, waiting to see what she would do.

She rolled her eyes as I held up the snapped jelly bracelet.

"Fine." Was all she said before she leaned over and wrapped her arms around me, and I her as we hugged.

I sniffed her hair, groaning internally to myself at the smell of her shampoo, before she pulled back and resumed eating her pizza.

I cleared my throat as the topic was finally changed to something else, and I could feel Steve's eyes on me, and I regretfully looked up, as he is sitting across from me.

The smug bastard, knowing about my crush on her, was chrewing his food, bur he smirked at me when he noticed I was looking.

I kicked his leg, and he coughed to hide the slight yell of pain.

I placed my arm across her chair, just like I always do, wondering how far I can go with this before she tells me to fuck off.

Orange (2)

[luckbealincoln]

HIiii I absolutely love BKS! I have been here since day 1 and have fallen in love with it more and more. May I request 62 & 253 please? Basically possessive Din with some degradation

A Little Attention

pairing : din djarin x f!reader

word count : 2.3k

summary : the mandalorian returns from a hunt rather stressed, you know just how to help him out

warnings, etc : smut, established relationship, din djarin consent king, porn with a mere spoonful of plot, dom/sub, dom!din, sub!reader, safe words, sort of pet play??, din calls reader puppy, choking, degradation, humiliation, but also praise, rough rough rough sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, spanking, use of a belt, makeshift leash, creampie

a/n : i am so so sorry it's taking me so long to get through requests lmao i'm gonna set myself a reasonably goal of one per week and try and stick with that. i hope you enjoy!! this is uhhhh maybe the rowdiest fic i've written so far but also like i loved this request and i had so much fun writing this <3 now it's time for me to sleep so i hope y'all enjoy and have a good night!!

He’s in a mood when he comes back with the bounty. 

He’s always in a mood when it takes more than a week. If the bounties alive they don’t make it known, they aren’t moving when he throws them into the carbonite. Walking in silence as he closes the doors to the Crest before storming off towards the ladder to the cockpit. He doesn’t acknowledge you in the slightest as he stomps right past you.  

You know Grogu’s in his pod up there napping, thankfully Mando notices and quiets his stomping as you feel the ships engine kick on almost immediately, the familiar hum fills the hull as you continue your knitting. 

If he wants to be grumpy, you’ll let him be grumpy. 

When he returns he still doesn’t address you as he slams his weapons down, he doesn’t clean any of his blasters as he hangs them up. He carelessly tosses the several belts he wears to the floor. Once he seems satisfied with his little tantrum he looks down to where you’re sitting on the ground. You continue your work on the sweater you’re making for the little green monster. 

“How long has he been asleep?” He snaps at you which obviously has you frowning. That’s the first thing he says after eight moons apart?

“I missed you too.” You mumble before setting your needles into the basket where you keep your yarns. 

“Don’t do that, I hate it when you do that.”

“So you're the only one who’s allowed to be angry?” You start to stand, leaning against the wall of the ship as you glare at him. 

“I had a long week.” He sounds strained but you have no problem pushing his buttons. You know exactly what to do to get out of this mood. He needs to let off some steam. And he won’t do it unless you get him riled up, it’s just how this goes, once he gets all his pent up aggression out he’ll be back to the Mandalorian you know and love. Although you certainly don’t mind dealing with this side of him for now. 

“So did I. You act like watching the kid isn’t hard. He gets bored after just a few days stuck on the ship and then he starts throwing things around with the magic and it’s all a mess.” You cross your arms as you continue frowning at him. He’s already clenching and unclenching his fist. Good. 

“I didn’t say-.” 

“And then you come back and you act like I’m not even here, like I’m nothing more than a pet to you, to look after when you feel like it and ignore otherwise.” You go to push past you but a gloved hand shoves you back against the ship's wall by the throat. All the air is shoved out of your lungs and his grip loosens the second you’re pinned in place. 

There it is. 

“Color?” His voice has softened around the edges just the tiniest bit. 

You can’t help but grin at him. 

“Green.” The moment you say it his grip tightens again. Your hands come up to claw at his wrist a bit as you gasp. He moves closer until your nose is poking against Beskar. 

“Is this what you wanted? Are you so desperate for my attention that you have to act like a brat the second I return? Maybe you are my pet, you’d probably like it if I kept you as a pet, wouldn’t you?” You’re having a hard time focusing on his words as your vision starts to get blurry around the edges, the natural panic caused by lack of oxygen taking over as you claw more desperately at his wrist. When he releases you, you slump to the floor, he doesn’t give you more than a few seconds to catch your breath before you watch his gloves hit the ground next to you and his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, yanking, your face flushes. “I expect an answer.” 

Fuck, what was the question? Kriff you can’t focus on much as you nod, hoping that’s the answer he wants but you feel another sharp tug. 

“Words.” He forces you to stare up at him. 

“Fuck, yes, sorry.” He seems pleased enough as he drops you back to the floor. 

“Tell me your colors, pet.” He picks up one of his belts, one without any attachments, holding the brown leather strap in his hands. You sit on your ankles as you watch him fold it in half, smacking it against his palm gently before turning back to face you. 

Stars, that tone. When he wants to be in charge there’s no arguing with that deadly serious tone. That’s the sharp tongue of a killer. 

“Green means good, yellow means slow, red means stop.” He drags the bend of the belt across your jaw before withdrawing it so quickly you flinch.

“Good. Now, on all fours, like a good puppy.” His voice remains dominant but now there’s a hint of mockery as you obey. Getting on your hands and knees in front of him. He drags the belt across the length of your dress ridiculously slowly, by the time he reaches your ass you're trembling. 

He crouches down next to you. 

“Scared puppy?” There’s no concern in his tone as he says it. 

Not at all. 

If anything you’re shaking in anticipation of what’s to come. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of a yes. 

“No.” You make sure he sees your smirk but any smugness in your expression is lost when he swings the belt down, a loud snap echos through the hull as it hits your rear. You lurch forward. mouth opening in a silent scream. 

He hums. Happy with your reaction as his free hand reaches down to lift your skirt up, bunching the fabric up on your hips so he can admire the faint red mark already blooming on your ass. 

“How many do you think you’ve earned, pet?” He traces the mark with his fingertips and you instinctively crawl forward a little bit, he grabs the meat of your ass, squeezing, his nails leaving little crescents in your skin. “Stay still. Don’t make me put you on a leash.” 

That certainly isn’t as much of a threat as he makes it seem. 

He of course realizes exactly what you're thinking and his hand slips under the fabric of your underwear, his digits slide through the pool of wetness forming and he laughs as he pulls them away to hold them in front of your face. 

“Is that what you want? A leash?” He brings his fingers to your lips in silent instruction for you to clean them, which you do. Tasting yourself as you lick them clean. “Well, pets don’t just get treats. You have to earn it.” You do your best not to flinch as you feel the belt rest against the skin of your thighs. “How about ten? You take the belt ten times and I'll put you on a leash?” 

It’s a humiliating deal. 

You both know that. 

But the first hit felt so good. And you crave more of the sting that lingers afterwards.

Besides, you’ve let him do worse to you and he’s let you do worse to him and you’ve always enjoyed it so you nod. He removes his fingers from your mouth and ruffles your hair. 

“Good girl.” 

It’s all worth it to hear those words. 

He kneels next to you, one hand on your chest to keep you from falling forward, the other raises the belt again. You hear the crack before you feel the sting. A small yelp leaving your mouth. He gives you no recovery time as he brings it down again. Alternating between the backs of your thighs and your ass.

After seven he’s holding you up with his free hand. Tears stream down your face and you’ve completely soaked through your panties. He sets the belt down and rubs the welts that are forming, trying to soothe a bit of the pain as you whimper. 

“Color?” He asks as he continues to rub circles against your swollen skin. 

“Green.” You murmur as you drop your head so you're staring at the floor. 

“Good girl.” You hear him pick the belt up again and he’s quick with it, he’s never been one to prolong this sort of thing longer than necessary. He brings the belt down three more times in quick succession, one slap on each thigh and one on your ass. You whine, your back arching slightly as your torso drops to the floor. 

As you wipe away the tears falling down your face he begins to gently wrap the belt around your neck, notching it like a collar around your throat so it doesn’t choke you unless he pulls on it. He moves to kneel between your legs as he pulls the belt to bring you back up on your hands. His free hand pulls your panties down to your knees as he kneads the flesh of your ass. Helping to ease the pain that demands your attention. 

“Color?” He asks one more time as you sniffle, composing yourself. 

You certainly haven’t come this far not to get fucked. 

“Green.” When you say it he gently pats your ass. 

“You’ve been such a good girl. Such an obedient little pet. Do you want my mouth or my cock?” He continues kneading your ass and you answer immediately, you’re too worked up to not have him inside you right now. 

“Cock, please.” His hand leaves your rear and you hear the zippers of his flight suit followed by the head of his cock swiping through your folds. 

You’re practically drooling in anticipation but you never feel the stretch, instead he tugs on the belt, you choke a bit and lean back instinctively, impaling yourself on his length. You groan as he sinks just the tip into your dripping cunt. 

“Come on. Take it all on your own like a good little pet.” He growls out and you know exactly what he wants. He’s presented this as a reward but you know he expects you to take it yourself. 

Which you happily do. 

Thankfully he lets you take your time. His hand grips the makeshift leash but he doesn’t rush you as you push your hips back against his. Whining as you rock back and forth, without any prep and over a week without him you aren’t anywhere near ready for him. But his gasps and whispered praises are enough to urge you on as you slowly fuck yourself on his cock. 

“Such a good girl. Kriff. Good girl, taking her reward, look so pretty on my cock, does that feel good?” Even through his groans he manages to sound condescending. 

“S’good Mando.” Your hips stutter all the back, fully taking him with a yelp and he finally tugs on the leash again. 

“What do you say?” He pulls you back completely so you’re flush against his chest, he drops the belt and wraps his arms around your torso to hold you against him. Pushing himself deeper into you. 

“T-thank you.” 

“Good girl. Take your reward.” You can hear his shit eating grin but you eagerly comply, starting to rock yourself up and down against him. His hand trails down your stomach pressing against you roughly, like he’s trying to feel himself inside of you. 

It’s harder in this position but you still manage to ride him, the hand on your stomach moves down to find your clit, there’s nothing gentle about his motions, he’s trying to force your climax out of you as quickly as possible. His fingers draw angry circles over the pearl between your legs making you keen. 

Your thrusts are weak, you’re barely getting an inch off of him as you squirm in his arms. But he must be just as pent up as you are because you recognize the grunts behind the helmet, he’s already close, his own hips starting to rut up into you. 

“Come on, cum on my cock, show me how good you can be for me.” He groans, pinching your clit sending a jolt through your entire body. Everything tenses up as you clamp down on him, your vision goes dark for a moment as your cunt strangles his cock. The only thing keeping you upright is his hands and after a few messy thrusts you feel him finish inside you. 

He holds you against him for a little while, at least until you catch your breath. He hisses as he pulls out of you before his hands find the belt, releasing the clasp and tossing it aside, quickly lifting you up into his arms. 

“Thank you.” He mumbles as he pulls your panties back up your hips. Walking you towards the sleeping cubby. 

“For what?” You rest your head on his chest as he sits you down on the edge of your shared sleeping mattress. 

“For doing that. I’m not an idiot, I know that was for my benefit.” His hands run through your hair, combing through the tangles that he put there. You grin at him.

“Well it’s not entirely for your benefit, you’re in a better mood thanks to me so everyone’s happy.” He hums in response, carefully laying you down onto the bed. 

“I’m gonna go check on the kid, make sure we didn’t wake him.” He stands and you pull a blanket up over you, exhausted. Before he leaves he gives your leg a loving squeeze. “Next time you can put the leash on me if I act like that.” He laughs and you hear him climbing the rungs of the ladder. 

He sounded like he was joking but you can’t help but smile. 

Maybe next time you will.

[aishangotome]

Rio Ortiz: Even If I Die

From A Hidden Oath: King of the BEAST (2024 Election) - Collection Event

—

I slip into bed with Emma, our hands intertwining as usual, and let myself sink into the warmth of this familiar feeling.

Even though we've slept like this for countless nights, this sense of happiness never fades.

Rio: I'm so lucky to be able to sleep like this with you, my love, every day.

Emma: I was just thinking the same thing.

Rio: Really? I knew it, our hearts are connected.

Rio: But I never imagined I could experience such happiness...

Emma: What brought this on all of a sudden?

Rio: I often think about how these happy days we spend together feel like a miracle.

Emma: Rio...

(Because I met you, I was able to create something precious again.)

Rio: Creating something precious was scary, but my love for you outweighed it a million times over.

Rio: It's all thanks to you for making me fall so deeply in love.

(From the moment I confessed my feelings, I decided to protect you no matter what.)

(And that will never change, no matter what happens.)

Emma: My love for you is also a big and special feeling that surpasses any other emotion.

Rio: Am I allowed to receive such happy words at the end of the day?

Rio: I want to declare today as a new anniversary for us.

Emma: With you, Rio, every day could be an anniversary. But do you really mean it?

(You're a genius at making me happy.)

I want to keep up, but so far, I'm on a losing streak.

(But maybe there's no better losing streak than this.)

I squeeze her hand, and Emma gives me her pure, cheerful smile.

Rio: Even when we become old, let's hold hands and sleep like this.

Emma: Yes. You know, the other day when I went shopping in town, I saw an elderly couple walking hand in hand.

Emma: They looked so happy together...

Emma: I thought that even as I get older, I want to hold hands with you, Rio, when we go out.

(To think we were both thinking about each other even when we were apart...)

(It's not a metaphor, it really feels like our hearts are connected, and I'm so happy I could faint.)

Rio: Of course. I'll never stop holding your hand, no matter what.

Rio: Let's be the envy of the world as a loving couple.

I embrace Emma tightly.

Emma: I'm so happy and joyful right now, and this will continue forever.

Rio: It will continue forever, and we'll be even happier than we are now.

Rio: You know, maybe I'll become good at knitting by the time I'm a grandpa, and we can wear matching sweaters in the winter.

Emma: That's lovely! Then I'll knit matching scarves and gloves.

Rio: Mmm, just imagining it makes me excited.

Rio: Besides clothes, maybe we can have more fun if we share the same hobbies?

Emma: We have plenty of time, so let's discover them together.

Rio: What would be good? Walks, trips, painting... Ah, anything would be fun with you.

Emma: Hehe, you give me so much to look forward to in the future, Rio.

Emma: I hope I can give you many things to look forward to as you get older too.

(You already give me a lifetime of joy.)

(If I said that, you'd laugh cutely and say, "That's not true.")

Rio: I'm sure you'll always be the same, even when you're old, you'll probably become a cute grandma.

Emma: Rio will become a handsome grandpa.

Emma: I think the more we grow old, the more we'll love each other, and we'll become even closer.

Rio: I'm sure we'll be two people bound by the strongest love, a love that can't be beaten by any other couple!

Rio: Let's always hold hands when we go out, when we sleep, and even after we die, let's always be together.

Emma: You mean, let's be buried in the same grave?

Rio: That too, of course, but even if we go to heaven, even if we're reborn, I want to be with you.

Emma: Hehe, then let's be together.

Rio: Huh, really?

Emma: Yeah, really. It's a promise.

Emma kissed me as a sign of our promise.

(No... I'm too happy.)

FIN

[for-a-longlongtime]

Important TF2 question (to me)...is the Standard Heating Oil hat still a thing for Frankie? Did he leave it in South America? Does he still wear hats? His hair is still long, right? RIGHT?!

These are the questions I'm fixated on should a sequel happen.

Jess! Do you know that you're the first person who submitted an Ask to me here on Tumblr? I'm so excited about it, makes me feel like I'm finally one of the cool kids 😅

His hair is definitely still long. He's probably tried some shorter cuts over time, but going to the barbershop is one of those things he often just doesn't get to - so the extra curls and length are often there because he's long overdue for a cut. That's also why the hat (or at least A hat) is still around a lot, because if he's headed out to work or to meet somebody it's just easier to throw on a hat than bother with hair products.

Every now and then he'll have a moment of hair envy though when watching Santiago. Their hairtypes are very different, but you know that Pope is a lot more vain - pretty boy will pop into a salon every 3 weeks to get his hair cut, facial hair trimmed, the works. Always looking very put together. It's not like Frankie couldn't afford that or doesn't have the time - he just forgets, or feels like it's a hassle to go that often.

Also, don't underestimate him. He knows what the sight of those curls do to people. He's not cocky about it, but he knows. Most of his bed partners through the years will have made at least a few remarks about it, always with praise. If you'd ask him about it, he probably wouldn't say it out loud but his hair at this length, just like in the photo? It's the perfect length to grab ahold of his curls when he goes down on you.

When he's eating you out, that's all he's focused on and he doesn't need any further encouragement. But he loves it how your grip on his hair will tighten when his tongue pushes right there right there, harder Frankie, please, fuckkk. Inevitably you'll be so far gone that your tugs on his hair won't be as gentle as they started out, but that's exactly where his sweet spot is. When your fingers have slid deep into his hair, clutching his curls, and you just pull at him so hard that it makes his head jerk back and eyes close for a moment... It's the only thing that'll interrupt his tongue on you, but that's okay - because the way his hot breath stutters against you in that moment is so good. So you do it again, feel how it makes shivers run down his spine. Having his hair pulled like that just shoots straight to his dick, and now he has to really work on not letting that distract him as you're whimpering under him. So who needs haircuts every three weeks when he can have all of this - the tugging and oh so good flashes of pain that turn him on -, just by keeping his hair long?

The Standard Heating Oil hat, though. That one is special because it fits him just right, even after all these years, like a perfectly worn in sweater, and somehow it will never accidentally fall off unlike other caps. Not even after that helicopter crash in the Andes, you know? Fucking magic. He stole it from Pope years ago when he'd crashed on his couch after a night out and just never gave it back. There's no long or even overly sentimental reason he would offer for why this one is his favorite - it just is. Plus it'll make Pope grin at him every so often as he'll call Frankie a pendejo and ask when the fuck he is getting his hat back, which will never happen, because they both know that that hat became Frankie's the moment he put it on.

What the fuck, how did I just word vomit 600 words on Frankie's hair and hat before it's even 10 am? I must've blacked out there for a bit. Thank you for the ask, @rhoorl! <3

Pssst @legendary-pink-dot, Bush Pilot Hair alert.

[hauntedwitch04]

Humor

James Potter x reader

Words: about 1.2k words

Warnings: some angst but than is totally fluff and happy

Author’s note: Hi everybody! Sorry to be this late, life is just being crazy right now. And I know it's not the first one I do like this, but it came out like this and I hope you like this.

P.s this is the result of a sleepy trip on the train to get at uni :), like every oneshot I'm writing btw ahahah

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

🎃Halloween party 🎃

DAY 8: "I have a skeleton in my closet." "Everyone has them, love." "No I mean literally."

Sometimes you stop to think how you ended up falling in love with your husband. Certainly James is an attractive, kind, funny man for sure and also very intelligent when he wants to be, but everything you have just listed about him belongs to five percent of the time, the rest of the time he is the equivalent of a petulant and constantly bored as well as hungry child, but in spite of this you cannot help but love him deeply. Part of you, however, that he is not yet ready for the future that awaits you, and you are afraid that he will not prove as adult as you expect him to be.

Now you are sitting at the table, enjoying dinner after a long tiring day at work, when he stops and looks at you.

"Honey can I tell you something? "He asks unsurely, and you nod as you swallow your food, knowing that you might spit out in surprise knowing him, since you already have.

"I have a skeleton in my closet." He says without half-measures, making your blood freeze in your veins for a moment. Then you think he's actually using a figure of speech and relax for a moment.

"Everyone has them, love." You say taking another bite of your dinner, but he stubbornly gets up and goes to the closet that is located not far from your dining table on which you are dining, right behind your back. He lays a hand on the doorknob and then turns back to you, looking at you with a very serious look.

"No, I mean literally." He continues as he opens the door, and suddenly a skeleton seems to fall forward toward you, ungainly laying his bony hand on your shoulder. You can't help but let out a cry, and jump from your chair toward the nearest door. Once you get the joke, you freeze and look at your husband so badly that you know you could easily set him on fire. Meanwhile he had started laughing, holding his stomach with his hand while also wiping tears from his eyes.

"You should have seen your face love." He says in laughter, but you just keep your stoic face before you speak.

"Sleep on the couch tonight." You condemn him before you leave the room, and he immediately realizing his mistake chases after you, apologizing.

"Love please wait, it wasn't for you the joke, it was for Sirius, but I wanted to see if it was actually scary, please don't be mad at me!" She screams, against the closed door of your bedroom.

"Then I tell you what, go sleep over at his place tonight." You answer him from the other side, now room of his childish attitudes. You know that actually by tomorrow you will have calmed down and forgiven him, but right now you can't do that yet.

He realizing that he must not bother you and must do what you are simply asking him to do, tries a little more apologizing before telling you that he would go to Sirius and Remus.

He has never seemed to experience a colder day than the one in James, despite the thick sweaters and jackets he wears. He feels naked in the wind, chills run through him but for the fear that he has made one mistake too many. He has made many foolish mistakes before, but you have always forgiven him after all, and he is afraid that this time you will not be able to.

He rings the intercom at his friends' apartment, looking to them for words of comfort, but after letting him into the house all they can say to him is insults.

"Ehy guys take it easy, okay I fucked up, but don't you guys think you're going a little overboard?" Potter asks, looking at the two boyfriends.

"That was exactly what she was afraid of when she told us, that you weren't mature enough, and you just proved it to her." Sirius finally says.

"Told what?" James asks curiously.

"Don't you know? He hasn't told you yet?" Remus asks in turn, even more surprised.

"Of course not, he didn't have the time between brilliant shit that James does." She replies to her fiancé as she closes her eyes and runs a hand over her tired face.

"Go home, apologize and ask her to tell you, you'll see for yourself what I mean." Sirius continues, mind almost literally kicking his best friend out of his house.

And so James finds himself after such a short time back at your bedroom door.

"Love, please talk to me." She says mind sits against the door, but there is no response from you.

"Please I didn't mean to, your mo too much to lose you over such bullshit, I would never forgive myself." He continues, but you still don't speak, even though you now also sit against the bedroom door, only that slab of wood divides you.

"Sirius told me you have something to tell me." You finally remember James, and you can't help but curse the elder Black.

So you get up and open the door, causing your husband, who is now looking down at you, to fall back against the floor.

"Your friend is just the person everyone dreams of having next door to keep a surprise." You say as I direct you to your closet, grabbing a fairly large box.

He looks at you confused as you place it on his lap.

"Open it." You tell him still a little angry and a little also scared about the reaction he might have to the news you are about to give him that will substantially change your lives.

He does as you instructed and removes the lid of the box showing a small children's broom with a tag.

<<To fly with you in the future. See you soon daddy.>>

James feels his breath stop in his throat as for a moment he feels something inside him break.

"Sirius helped me find the broom, but he shouldn't have told you that asshole." You explain as the andia consumes you, seeing him not saying or doing anything, but just staying to look at the object in the box.

"Is this a joke or is it the truth?" He asks at the end.

"Of course it's the truth, I have a much better sense of humor than you do, and tonight proved it." You comment before being tackled by a rib-cracking hug.

James begins to cry from happiness in your neck incabo and you can't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

"Are you happy then?" You ask, as you too begin to cry a little.

"Of course I'm happy, in fact I'm the happiest person in the world!" He replies before kissing you, you after a few minutes however break away from the kiss and say something that makes you both laugh.

"However, I hope he gets a sense of humor from me, that if he gets it from you we're doomed."

[tomwambsmilk]

Okay, so I've been cataloguing and connecting the succ trailer outfits, and I think I've managed to connect a bunch of scenes into episode 1, Logan's birthday (titled Listen Here, Lady, if the rumours are correct). This is a long post so I'm throwing it below a cut:

Okay. Starting off, we have logan in that blue sweater with the checked shirt. It's shown up before, too - that's what he's wearing in the first teaser when he stares out the window. Let's look at where else he wears it:

He's wearing it in this shot, where he's leaving what appears to be some kind of study. And this is where we can start connecting some outfit dots. Take a look at this Greg outfit:

That's the same outfit Greg is wearing here, just with the jacket done up:

It's also the same outfit Greg is wearing here (which fits, since Tom's outfit looks the same as the one in the above shot where Logan walks away):

So, we know that this study shot is the tail end of a long event - one with several invited guests, including Connor and Willa. Plus - that's the same outfit Nick Braun was wearing in the instagram post he made about the start of s4 filming, and there were set leaks in the first couple days (around the same time) of the cast singing happy birthday to Logan. So, my guess is that all these scenes are from Logan's birthday in episode 1. Additionally, all the other gatherings in the trailer appear to be for other purposes, and the 1% dialogue feels to me like establishing dialogue. (That also means Greg seems to have gained some kind of girlfriend over the break, who disappears as the evening drags on. Interesting.)

Now, some people have suggested this Tom outfit is the same one he wears in the argument with Shiv:

But while it does look similar... I hesitate. Because here's what Shiv's wearing:

But let's circle back to Logan's outfit from this event in a different scene - this convo with Kerry:

Kerry is wearing a blue blazer here - a blue blazer which is the same one she's wearing in this scene of the teaser, where she's on the phone with the Roy siblings:

But while she's on the phone with them, Shiv is not only wearing a completely different outfit from the tomshiv confrontation - she's in a different time zone:

It's late at night where Kerry is, and it's daytime where the siblings are, so it's reasonable to assume that they're in California at this point. That seems to be backed up by this shot, where Shiv appears to be wearing the same brown jacket while getting into a car with a palm tree in the background:

Kerry's outfit here is far more distinctive than Tom's - Tom's worn several white shirt-blue blazer combos before, so I think it's more likely for Tom's outfit to be either a repeat or a very similar outfit than Kerry's. Alternatively, it's possible that the kids are in California, and then fly back, and Shiv changes her outfit. But that makes the timeline of the event a bit screwy, imo.

Oh, but let's take another look at this same Logan outfit, in a scene he shares... with Tom.

You can see the design on Tom's shirt more clearly here, and there are faint stripes which aren't on the shirt he's wearing in the tomshiv confrontation - again, making that seem like something from a different event or episode. (The outfit from that confrontation, though, IS the same one he's wearing when he greets Logan on the tarmac. More on that later.) If I'm right about the context of this event, that means this is, again, and episode one conversation between Tom and Logan. It's also during the day, and there aren't many people around. Did Tom come to Logan's birthday early? Was he invited early? Could togan.... be re- *gunshot*

One last thing. Where does Logan go when he leaves the party? Well, according to the BTS photos... to dinner with Colin:

Based on the booth design and the outfit, this is the scene with Logan's dialogue about being 100 ft tall, ect:

Anyways, let's circle back to the kids. Those outfits are distinct, so we know where else we've seen them:

Unfortunately, this location only shows up in this shot, so this is where the trail goes dead. Except...

Kendall's wearing the same outfit here, in this shot of the theatre. What's going on? Who knows. I have no guess. But - they do seem to be connected.

There are still lots more outfits to catalogue, but this is what I have so far! It's all coming together....

[augustjustice]

Girls Like Girls Like Boys Do (Nothing New)

@stevieweek day 5: AU

rating: mature | wc: 4k | cw: allusions to underage sex, though fade to black and no more explicit than the show itself; period-typical homophobia, misogyny, and ableism

tags: stancy, past stomarol, female steve harrington, dyslexic steve harrington, s1 rewrite, getting together, angst, happy ending

AO3 Link

Notes: This fic basically posits and explore the question: How might Season 1 look different if everything else stayed essentially the same, but Stevie Harrington had been a girl instead? Originally, I planned for the fic to end on a more bittersweet note...but I'm a sap who let this AU run away with me, so not only does this end on a happy note, but it also has a smutty futurefic follow-up coming later on in Stevie Week. So, if you enjoyed this one, be on the look out for that fic as well!

In the fall of 1983, Nancy Wheeler gets assigned as Stevie Harrington’s tutor. 

She needs to keep her grades up, to stay on the cheer squad, the girls swim team. And even though Nancy is a year younger, she’s a total whiz at basically, like…every subject, as far as Stevie can tell. 

No way she would admit to it later, but, at first…Stevie’s pretty nervous.

She knows how shit she is at school. Her reputation as an airhead has been pretty well established, and though Stevie refuses to let her classmates see how much it bothers her–it really does hurt. It’s not like she doesn’t try. She actually likes the stories in English class…when the other kids in the class read them aloud. But, when the time comes for Stevie to do the reading–the letters seem to rearrange themselves on the page, making it damn near incomprehensible. The numbers in the math are the same way.

So, she braces herself at that first study session. For Nancy to call her stupid, declare her a lost cause.

And Nancy is meticulous and ordered, to the point it becomes intimidating. She has a whole system and multi-colored flash cards. But, while Stevie can see her getting frustrated at times, at the end of the day–Nancy is dedicated to her job. It’s like Stevie’s total lack of academic skills is a puzzle, and she’s determined to solve it. Nancy actually listens when she talks, too, watching Stevie with a look of concentration that makes her flush. She isn’t sure she’s ever had someone pay that kind of attention to her. 

So Nancy slows down when she asks, whips up a whole separate study plan that’s just for her. And, before long…Stevie’s getting more answers right than she gets wrong. 

—

October has already rolled around when Stevie informs Carol she invited Nancy and Barbara to eat lunch with them. 

“What is she, like your pet project now?” Carol asks, tone incredibly bitchy as she files her nails at the back of Mr. Mundy’s class. 

“No! No. Nance is…cool,” Stevie says tentatively. 

Nancy is nothing of the sort–a nerd, through and through. But, honestly, Stevie thinks that’s…pretty cool of her. She doesn’t worry, so much, what other people think. Not the way Stevie’s been taught to her entire life, knowing that leaving the house with so much as a hair out of place will end in judgment from her mother and a scathing comment from Carol. 

“Puh-lease, Stevie. That girl is in serious need of a makeover.” 

Stevie furrows her brow at that. Objectively, Carol is probably right. Nancy isn’t exactly the most fashion forward person at Hawkins High, with her long skirts and cardigan sweaters. 

But…Stevie constantly finds her eyes drawn to the other girl. Glancing at Nancy’s chest, even when all she’s wearing is a simple, button down blouse, nothing Stevie would want for her own closet. Admiring the way her skirts hug her butt, despite the fact that they’re plain and floor-length. 

Those moments make Stevie flush–not with envy, like she’s used to with Carol, equal parts desire to steal her clothes and jealousy that they fit her so well. No, she feels something…else when she looks at Nancy, something that she hasn’t quite been able to put her finger on.

“Whatever, Carol. Don’t be jealous just because she pulls it off.” Fighting fire with fire is the only way with Carol. More quietly, she admits, “I think she looks really…nice.”

Carol rolls her eyes. “You cannot be serious.”

But she drops the subject after that, moving on to the latest rumor that Heather Holloway and Patrick McKinney are hooking up. She’s needling, Stevie knows, especially since Stevie and Patrick went on a couple dates back in the spring. But, honestly…that’s the best she could have hoped for.

—

Nancy Wheeler’s bedroom is…nice, Stevie thinks. Just like her clothes, and Nancy herself. It’s girlish and cozy, the walls covered in alternating white and pastel pink stripes, a patchwork quilt on the bed. Her own bedroom, by contrast, is covered in whatever ‘stylish’ floral wallpaper her mother had picked out of a magazine, with curtains patterned to match. Sometimes she feels like she can smell them, giving off the overwhelming sense that she’s suffocating there under a rotting bouquet. 

“Stevie,” Nancy’s smile is infectious when she looks up at her, pleased as punch, “you got it right!”

“...Oh, shit? Really?” Stevie leans into her space, brow furrowed as she glances down at the paper. “You mean I actually…don’t completely suck at this?”

“No,” Nancy laughs, light and musical, “not at all. You did it! Keep this up, and you’ll ace the next test without a problem.”

“Holy shit, I actually did it!” Stevie throws her arms around the other girl, something squeezing in her chest when Nancy hugs her back just as fiercely. “God, Nance, I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“You could,” Nancy argues, with a slight shake of her head, “you had it in you all along, I just…helped, a little.”

“Saved my ass is what you did,” Stevie shoots back. Even when she pulls away to look Nancy in the eyes, she keeps one arm curled around her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze. “Thanks, Nance. Thanks for everything.”

Nancy bites her bottom lip, giving Stevie a shy smile. “You’re very welcome, Stevie Harrington.”

She isn’t quite sure what comes over her then–or maybe, some part of her, buried deep, is. The same part that has spent weeks glancing at Nancy Wheeler’s lips, trying to figure out if it’s gloss that makes them such a soft, pretty pink, or if that’s just their natural color combined with the sheen of chapstick. 

So, Stevie leans over, and kisses Nancy Wheeler.

Her first thought is that Nancy’s mouth is exactly as soft as it looks. And her second is Oh my God, what the hell did I just do?!

When Stevie pulls back, Nancy blinks at her in surprise, eyes so round and blue. 

“It’s fine!” she hurries to insist, her voice high with panic. “It’s–Carol and me, we used to do that kind of thing all the time. Practice at sleepovers, for when we were older, you know? It’s not–it’s not like it has to be a big deal.”

And that part is totally true. Stevie’s been practice kissing with Carol for years, now–sometimes with Tommy, too. They’d been best friends since they were little kids, practically attached at the hip. 

…This kiss didn’t really feel like that, though. 

“Oh,” Nancy’s nose crinkles with distaste at the mention of Carol’s name, “that was just…practice, then?”

“No, I–I mean. What do you want it to be?”

“I don’t know, I just,” Nancy gnaws at her bottom lip, brow furrowing in concentration. Stevie can practically see the wheels turning in her head, a familiar sight. “I wasn’t upset, when you did that, so. I guess what I want is–to kiss you again? Not to practice for a guy, but just–because I’d like to kiss you.” 

A swarm of butterflies flutters in Stevie’s stomach. She swallows hard, eyes dropping down to Nancy’s lips. Anticipation thrums through her like it hasn’t in a really, really long time. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Stevie’s voice sounds rough, deeper than she’s used to. “We can do that. I’d, uh…really like to.”

“Good,” Nancy smiles sweetly, the flash in her eyes unexpectedly eager. 

And when she leans in, cups Stevie’s face, and kisses her again, Stevie feels something click into place. Like her progress in all their study meet-ups, it feels like…Nancy has unlocked some hidden part of her, that she hadn’t even realized was buried away inside. 

—

After that, their study sessions usually end in a make out session. Nancy’s still a strict teacher–she won’t let Stevie distract her from their studying all together. But, she believes Stevie deserves a treat for a job well done. Once, Stevie even convinces Nancy to reward her with a kiss every time she gets an answer right. 

If that night they take twice as long as they usually do to finish up, Stevie is not complaining. 

—

The next time her parents are away, Stevie invites Nance and Barbara to a pool party at her house. If Tommy and Carol think that’s strange, that it won’t just be the three of them like usual, they don’t say anything about it. 

—

Nancy is standing, totally soaked to the bone, in Stevie’s bedroom. Tommy and Carol are undoubtedly fucking around in her mom’s bedroom, and Barbara has gone home for the night.

So it’s just the two of them.

When Nancy goes to strip off her wet clothes, Stevie spins around to give her some privacy. If Nancy was any other girl, she wouldn’t, but things are…different, between them. And in all their meetups since things have changed, they’ve never done anything more than kissing. 

“Stevie?” Nancy calls out.

When Stevie turns to look at her, Nancy peels her shirt off over her head.

Plenty of girls have undressed in front of her–Stevie’s involved in enough sports she basically lives in the girls locker room. But…it’s never felt like this before. Deliberate and charged. 

She steps forward, like she’s being pulled in by some magnetic force. Once she’s closed the space, Stevie runs her hands down Nancy’s bare arms, her eyes falling to her chest, where she’s wearing nothing but a plain white bra. 

This time, she just lets herself look, eyes drinking their fill, unlike all the subtle, sneaky glances she’s taken before. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

“Shut up!” Nancy flushes, ducking her head. 

“I’m serious, Nance,” Stevie slides a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to look at her again. “You’re, like…the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

And then they’re kissing again, falling backwards into Stevie’s bed. 

When she tugs off her own shirt, Nancy’s eyes darken. Stevie’s seen that look plenty of times before. But, this time, it’s not some random guy watching, his face hungry. It’s Nancy staring back at her, want writ across her face. 

A shiver runs through her as she kisses Nancy again. 

“I’ve–I’ve never done this before,” Nancy admits shyly between brushes of their lips, blinking up at Stevie with big, blue eyes.

“With a girl?” Stevie asks. “I–me, neither.”

Sure, she’s made out with Carol plenty of times, but they’ve never even come close to anything like this. 

“No. No, with…anybody.” 

Stevie has never really gotten it before, guys and their virgin kinks. But now…she thinks she kind of does. 

Because when she thinks about it, the fact that she’s going to be Nancy Wheeler’s first, something primal and possessive purrs with satisfaction in her chest.

“It’s okay, baby,” Stevie murmurs, softly, coaxingly, as she reaches out and intertwines her fingers with Nancy’s own, “I’ve got you.”

Nancy nods, squeezing her hand, and a thrill runs through Stevie.

She slips down Nancy’s body.

And then, neither of them says anything beyond whispered, sweet nothings for a long, long while.  

—

Stevie sleeps more soundly that night than she can ever remember. When she gets up in the morning, she dresses with giddiness, eager to see Nance again. Some part of her is still reeling, as she remembers the night before–that she got to touch, and caress, and taste Nancy Wheeler as much as she wanted to.

Stevie isn’t exactly lacking in experience, but that was, without a doubt…the best sex she’s ever had. Taking care of someone else, like that–that’s something she’s never gotten to do before. 

It had felt good, natural. It had felt right, in a way no hookup with a random guy ever has. 

She’s practically floating on air by the time she finds Nancy standing by her locker. 

“I feel like everybody’s staring at me,” Nancy confesses, “like they can just…tell.”

Stevie casts a worried look around, gnawing at her bottom lip. But, then…she remembers that, the post-first time jitters. Feeling like everyone can see it branded on you, that something’s different. 

“No one knows,” she says, squeezing Nancy’s shoulder, trying to soothe. “I promise. I mean, Tommy and Carol totally don’t have a clue, and they were the only ones around last night. But…hey. I had a really nice time.”

“Me, too,” Nancy says, voice quiet and smile shy.

Stevie wishes she could kiss her, brush her lips over the soft, curled up corner of her mouth. But she settles for linking their pinkies together, warmth spreading through her when Nancy’s finger curls around her own. A subtle, private show of affection, just for them. 

“I’ll see you at lunch?” she asks hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Nancy nods, “see you then.”

Tapping a finger against the pretty little butterflies in Nancy’s locker, Stevie heads off, floating through all her morning classes until the time comes when she can see Nancy again.

—

Stevie and Nancy are heading out into the school parking lot, arms looped together, ready to meet up with Tommy and Carol before the big game. That is, until they catch them cornering Jonathan Byers at his car. 

By the time Stevie gets a look at the pictures Tommy is waving around, she feels her blood run cold. 

Photos of her house. Last night. 

Last night, when she and Nance had…

When Carol gets to the photo of Nancy undressing, Stevie doesn’t even wait to see what incriminating evidence comes after that. She just sees red. 

Rearing back, Stevie slaps Byers across the face with every bit of her strength. Then, she snatches the pictures from Carol’s hand and rips them in half. 

“I wouldn’t,” Byers says urgently, catching Stevie’s eyes before turning to Nancy. “I didn’t.”

Stevie feels sick to her stomach. 

She had lied to Nancy, that morning. Someone does know about them.

Jonathan Byers.

“Wouldn’t what?” Tommy demands, his laugh nasty. “Take creeper shots of a girl getting undressed without her knowing? Cuz it looks like you already did that, buddy.”

But he doesn’t say anything more, and when Stevie glances down at the torn photos now strewn across the ground, she doesn’t see any of herself, nothing after the point when Nancy had pulled off her shirt. 

It’s cold comfort, given everything, but at least–everyone doesn’t know. 

Unless Byers decides to tell them. 

Tommy is the one who breaks the guy’s camera. Even though she didn’t do it herself, Stevie still feels a sick sense of satisfaction as she watches it smash against the pavement. 

But then…Nancy bails before the game. Stevie tries not to sound too pitiful, when she calls after her. There’s a pit in her stomach, though, as she hopes, desperately, that Nancy will still want to be seen with her after this. 

—

Barbara is missing, and Stevie totally fucks that up, what with her anxieties about her dad. She wasn’t kidding, he really would kill her when he found out–but it doesn’t matter. 

And, honestly, in the moment, some tiny, petty part of her was…a little jealous, over Nancy’s desperation to find Barbara. As much as Stevie hates herself for it, when she admits it in the privacy of her own head afterwards, it’s still true.

So, despite the fact that both her parents insist she is far too immature for a girl of her age–she ponies up to do the grown up thing, heads over to apologize. 

And even though Stevie means what she says when she drops by the Wheelers, that she really does hope it wasn’t for her, she has to admit–Nance looks really hot, swinging that bat around. 

—

Stevie doesn’t tell Tommy and Carol where she’s going that night. They’d just make fun of her for it, and she knows that–but she really is worried about Nance. She’s clearly been on edge since Barbara disappeared.

So, Stevie takes matters into her own hands and shimmies up the side of the Wheelers’ house for a late night visit. She’s only done this once before, when Nancy was grounded, and Stevie wanted to see her anyway.

When she catches sight of Jonathan Byers through the window, in Nancy’s bedroom with his arm wrapped around her…it feels like her heart has been cleaved clean in two.

—

“Where were you last night? Let me guess–off with Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes, having a slumber party and braiding each other’s hair?” The sarcasm in Carol’s voice is bitter, vitriolic. Stevie would almost call it…jealous.

Not that she has any reason to be. Not now.

“No,” Stevie says flatly, “Nance was with Byers, last night.” 

She realizes her mistake as soon as she’s said it.

“The princess and the creep?” Tommy demands.

The vicious, gleeful looks he and Carol exchange spell trouble. 

—

The only reason they find themselves out defacing public property is because it’s Nancy, and because it’s Byers that she’s been with. 

After all, it’s not like Carol is exactly a virgin, and Tommy would beat the shit out of anybody who said something like this about her. 

But, the pair of them have had it out for Nancy from the word go. Have done nothing to make her feel welcome, the more and more she and Stevie started to hang out. They’ve kept their resentment barely thinned, even in Stevie’s presence. 

Truthfully, Stevie isn’t sure if they were scared that Nancy was stealing her away, or just couldn’t stand being that close to someone who wasn’t as miserable as the two of them. 

She glances up at the marquee of the Hawk. Slut screams there, blazing and ugly, Tommy’s handiwork. 

Stevie has been on the receiving end of that word, more than once. She knows how much it can hurt. 

But some ugly, nasty part of her wants Nancy to hurt, just as much as she does. 

(And a saddened part of Stevie, buried much deeper, wonders just what that marquee might say, if her friends knew that Nancy had been in her bed just a few nights before.)

When Nancy and Byers find them, Nancy gives Stevie a ringing slap, hard enough to match the one she delivered to Byers a few days before. Carol looks ready to throw hands, but Stevie simply shakes her head, staring down her nose at Nancy. Haughty and imperious, like she isn’t worth it. 

“You came by last night?” Nancy demands.

“Obviously,” Stevie drawls, the no duh evident in her tone.

“It wasn’t like that. Nothing happened!” Nancy insists, shooting her an imploring look.

Stevie sneers. “Why should I care? Who you fuck is your business, Wheeler.” 

Nancy’s eyes flash dangerously. 

“Apparently, you think it’s the whole town’s business.” she shakes her head, lower lip trembling, like she’s fighting back tears. “I thought you were better than this! But…I guess I was wrong.” 

The disappointment in her voice strikes Stevie down to her core, shame flooding through her. But she crosses her arms over her chest, sniffing disinterestedly. She can’t let it show, the pain roiling through her. 

Not in front of Nancy. Not in front of Carol and Tommy and Nicole. 

Nancy and Byers turn to leave, then. But Tommy isn’t content to let them have the last word. And since he can’t go after Nancy, the way Stevie suspects he really wants to, he settles for the next best thing. 

When Tommy spits that word, queer, like it’s something dirty and diseased, Stevie can’t help but flinch, hoping everyone’s too distracted to catch her. 

“Screw-up,” Stevie mumbles flatly, partially to draw Tommy away from that line of insults, and partially because she wants to cut Byers to the quick, too. “Just like his family.” 

That’s what does it, though. Tommy picks up right where she left off, like always, needling about Byers’ brother, his mother, what an embarrassment the whole family is to the entire town. Finally, the guy fully loses it. 

Carol and Stevie jump in on one side, and Nancy on the other. But, despite their best efforts, they aren’t able to pull the two boys apart. It takes the police showing up to finally break it up.

As soon as she starts running, asphalt pounding beneath her sneakers and Tommy bloody at her side, the weight of everything hits Stevie all at once, with the force of a truck.

It’s barely just happened, but already, she knows. Stevie can see it, so clearly now…just how badly she fucked up. 

—

When she turns up at the Byers house for her first round of apologies–it’s sure as hell not like Tommy is going to do it–Stevie finds Nancy already there, with a gun.

Then…a fucking monster bursts through the ceiling. 

And while Nancy might look great with a bat, after years spent on the girls softball team, Stevie thinks it’s a damn good thing that she knows just how to use one.

—

“I’m sorry,” she finally gets to say it, as she drives the three of them to the hospital. “I was…a total jackass.”

“Yeah, you were,” Nancy agrees, never one to pull punches. 

But then she lets her fingers bump up against Stevie’s, gives her hand a brief squeeze. And, even though it’s only for a second, for the first time in days something settles in Stevie’s chest.

It feels a lot like hope. 

—

Stevie gets an invite over to the Wheelers’ house for their Christmas Eve party. After saying a quick hello to Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, Nancy grabs her wrist and leads her upstairs to her bedroom. 

“I’ve got something for you.” Leaning over from where she’s perched on her bed, Nancy slides a long, slim box out of her side table. “Consider it my ‘sorry for almost shooting you’ apology gift.”

The necklace inside is nearly an identical match for Nancy’s own delicate gold chain. But, instead of ballet slippers, the charm that hangs from it is…a pair of pom-poms.

“It’s…silly, I know,” Nancy crinkles her nose, the way she always does when she’s being apologetic, uncertain of herself. “I just thought, you could wear it, and then we would...”

“Match,” Stevie breathes out, not quite able to keep the awe out of her voice. 

“Right. Yeah, exactly.”

Nancy unclasps the chain, holding it up in offering. Settling down beside her and pulling her hair up, Stevie turns to let Nancy put it on her. The metal is cold against her skin, but Nancy’s fingers feel warm where they brush over the nape of her neck.

“There,” Nancy reaches forward, turning the pendant so it’s facing forward. Even that lightest touch to her chest is enough to send Stevie’s heart racing. “Perfect. This way you can keep it close to your heart. I hope…that’s not too cheesy?”

“Nance,” Stevie strokes a careful finger over the pom-poms. “I love it.”

“Really?” 

Stevie has no idea how she can sound so unsure. Not when she feels like there’s a neon, blinking sign over her head at all times, with cursive writing that reads Crazy about Nancy Wheeler.

“Yeah, of course I do. How could I not?” 

Stevie reaches up tentatively, strokes a hand over Nancy’s cheek. Her heart swells when Nancy leans into the touch. 

“Baby…can I kiss you, now?” 

Biting her bottom lip, a familiar little grin curls across Nancy’s lips. “You better.”

So…Stevie does. 

And in that moment, she doesn’t care what monsters or other horrors Hawkins has to throw her way. As long as she has Nancy–her girlfriend, she thinks giddily–at her side, she has a feeling things will all work out just fine. 

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

P&C | Ch. 2: Hey Flip Flops

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

6:30 a.m.

"Mira, Miraya, wake up!" I sigh as my body is awakened by the sound of my alarm clock and Jiah's voice.

"It's time already?" I whine, stretching my body for what seems like an hour. I can barely make out Jiah's words as they're interrupted by her yawns, but I'm pretty sure she said something about breakfast.

We quickly get ready. Check each other out for the 50th time, making sure we both look to die for because that's what boss ladies do, before finally heading out. It rained the night before so the air is extra crisp, which I love. Would rather have this than the 10-month winter season I had to endure back home.

Jiah was right, the knee-high boots definitely pulled the whole look together, we both look like two French girls. Talking about fashion, people in Korea (especially girls) know how to dress well. Everything, and I mean everything, from their hair down to their nails is polished and well put together. Mindblowing, as back home I could be seen wearing the same Harvard sweater for 5 consecutive days, with absolutely no shame or will to change. So, the fact that these boots are now in my possession should in itself cause a commotion, but for now, I'll settle for Jiah's reassurance and cute compliments.

Unfortunately, though, our little date had to pause as it was time to depart to our respective faculty buildings. See, Jiah is a Business major with a minor in accounting, aka money is basically going to follow her 24/7. While I'm majoring in Nursing, by choice mind you! I was going to go into Dietetics before realising that my eating habits are questionable at best, so I spared humanity with this one (you're welcome). But now, if you see me in your local hospital in my cute scrubs just know that I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing so please, just mind your business.

Anywho, we said our goodbyes and wished each other luck. Fast forward to about five minutes, and there I was, standing in front of the building that will probably make me cry, scream, laugh, and all of the above throughout the next 4 years. Nonetheless, I have come this far right? The possibility of everything I worked for going down the drain is the only motivation I need right now to do my best.

--

As I walked out of my last class of the day, the sun was already beginning to set. To be honest, everything went pretty well, I mean as well as it could go on syllabus day. My professors were all pretty chill except for one lady who intimidates the crap out of me for absolutely no reason. She has over 30 years of experience in this field and deals with new cohorts, which means she might be my supervisor. If that's the case I will have to pregame each clinical to not pass out in her presence.

I wanted to grab a quick coffee on my way back to the dorm when I felt my phone buzz.

Jiah: Heyy lovely, how are you? Have you eaten? Jimin invited us to a little get-together with his friends, so I'll pick you up at 7.

Mira: Hey babes, I'm great. How are you, love? Sure, I'll let you know when I'm ready.

Oh my god, my first party. It's no big deal but my body has definitely become more tense. I mean I know literally no one else aside from Jiah. I haven't even met her boyfriend, barely know what he looks like. But, I trust her, so as long as I stick by her everything should be fine, right? I mean what's the worst that can happen?

Caught up in my thoughts, I was abruptly interrupted by a sudden push, a body that slammed past me as I tried to open the front door of the dormitory. Ouch. I didn't have time to check who it was but they also made no effort in checking if I was okay. Looking back all I could see was a tall guy with a black hoodie who seemed to be in a rush. Jeez, people these days are just something else I swear. Whatever, I thought, maybe they were having a rough day. Nonetheless, I straightened up and made my way up to my dorm, trying to forget whatever that was as I had bigger things to think about.

--

Knock Knock Knock

"Miraya, open up, I'm here!" I could hear Jiah's screams from my bedroom as I tried to quickly unlock the door. One hand on the doorknob, the other on my dress strap. And, as the door swung open, Jiah was left in absolute awe.

"Sheesh, miss girl who allowed you to look this good?" she exclaimed, coming in for a tight hug.

"Girl, look at you! Screw your boyfriend and come live with me," we both giggled, knowing dam well that we both looked quite good. I mean go big or go home right?

"I'm almost done, I swear. But please, can you help me with this strap? It unclipped and I almost lost my mind. I don't know why this dress requires 10 people to assemble," I whine a little as Jiah quickly clasps the dress back into its position.

"Hey, what's this? Are you okay?"

"What?" I ask, as she walks us over to my mirror before pointing to a bruise on my forearm.

"Oh, yeah, so silly. This guy bumped into me as I was trying to get into the building today. But, it's no big deal. It doesn't hurt." I assure her, letting out a small chuckle.

"Are you sure? Next time you see him let me know, I'll run straight into him." she urges with pure determination on her face. I can't help but smile, reaching out and going in for a hug. We talk about our day for a little while until finally leaving the dorm.

--

"So, this party? Who else is going to be there?" I quietly ask as we make our way down to the elevators.

"Oh, just, my boyfriend, his friends, and some other people from this dormitory," Jiah explains before pressing the Basement floor.

While my nerves were somewhat calm during our elevator ride, they sure as hell were not once the doors opened and I saw the amount of people just at the entrance. My eyes were wide open as I glanced at Jiah before she looked back with a mischievous yet nervous smile.

"Come on Mira, let's have fun. Let loose!" she exclaimed, pulling my arm towards the entrance. There was no time to answer or to protest so I had no other choice but to follow her into a huge studio room with disco lights and music blasting from each corner. "Small gathering"

"Baby!" Jiah screamed, as her hold on my hand loosened and she ran to a boy in a black cap. Jimin. Well, at least, now I know what he looks like. It was cute watching them reunite. They have definitely missed each other, it was clear from the way their bodies melted into one another and their eyes locked.

"Miraya, come here let me introduce you to everyone," Jiah waved for me to come closer before I could make out the other people in the circle, and that's when my eyes stopped on him. Oh my god, no.

"Oh, hey flip flops!" Tae scrunched his nose before parading his boxy smile, waving at my yet again flushed face. I dare not to look up, hoping that if I can't see them then they won't be able to see me. A girl can dream, I guess. 

"Flip flops?" Jimin and Jiah both ask, letting out a chuckle at the funny nickname.

"Yeah, it was so funny because when we first met I was in the elevator and she ran ..."

"Ok, that's enough, thank you for your input but really, it's not that serious. Umm ... so Jimin, how was your vacation?" I quickly try to change the subject before Tae sends me into another nervous breakdown. Everyone just smiles and looks at Jimin, while Tae teasingly grins at my quick remark.

"Yeah, I mean it was honestly so nice, the boys and I went to Bora Bora. Heaven on Earth! Baby, next time, we should all go," he says, adoring eyes looking down at Jiah who was snuggled into his embrace.

"Oh, by the way, this is Jungkook. We drove all night yesterday from Busan, so excuse his appearance." Jimin smiles, pulling on Jungkook's hoodie to come forward and introduce himself. The poor guy seemed absolutely drained but managed to let out a tiny hello with a nod before stepping back into the shadow. Something about him seemed familiar but I couldn't tell what exactly.

Previous l Next

[eyes-that-decieve]

((Alis statement time!))

((Massive TW for child neglect (you know, lonely stuff), narcissistic parenting (probably inaccurate representation of it but we ball), moths, blood, description of (severe amounts of) insect bites, trypophobia, missing eyes.))

She didn't really interact with me other than when she needed to. Dad did his best, but Mother tried to keep him as far away from me as she could. Claimed,'He would turn her little doll against her.' I could never keep any friends for longer than a week. They were so scared of Mother. She always chased away my friends.

[Tape recorder click, tape begins to whir]

Alis: Do you want my statement? I know you haven't had one for a bit, and I can see you're curious.

Styx: Only if you're comfortable with it. I don't want to force anything from you if you don't want to remember it.

Alis: It's a statement, you know I'm not. I'm going to give it to you anyway, say your words.

Styx: [Sigh] Fine. Statement of Alis, regarding their mother and events leading up to their Becoming. Statement taken direct from subject, the 21st of May, 2024. Statement begins.

Alis: I wasn't truly aware of how my family acted towards me for a long time. I was my mother's lovely little doll, to be dressed up in pretty frilly dresses and shown off in front of the relatives.

It was very lonely as a kid. Wake up, make myself breakfast, walk to school, then head home, make my own dinner, go to bed. Mother was always out, but I can't remember her explanations as to why. Looking back on the few I can recall, they don't sound quite right to me now. I know she wasn't drinking or anything like that. She was always sober and distant when she came home.

Whenever she was there, it was to dress me up for something. A party of some sort, usually. Wear the dress, chin up, elbows off the table, don't ruin the image. Our image, she said, but I never cared for that. Remembering now, it was always about her. Look pretty, show off her work to the relatives. She always seemed colder, more calculated when talking to me like that. She spoke in a very sweet voice and smiled at the relatives, though. They always fawned over her, cooing at me and saying what a pretty thing I was. Mother always beamed at the praise, as if it them saying I was pretty extended to her. Like a child showing off an art project and puffing up at the compliments over their work. She got enough compliments herself for her striking makeup and dresses that always seemed to almost float, moving like fog.

How can you be alone when you're surrounded by people? How can you be lonely if you are constantly talked to and told "you would look so much better if you lost a little weight" or "don't wear that, you'll embarrass us!"

Maybe two years ago, I started finding little dots on my clothes in the closet. Only on the dresses I never wanted to wear. I left whatever they were where they were, maybe out of spite, but I really didn't care. It's not like I wore them very often, and Mother would be able to buy new ones, though she would be livid about it. Mother knew best, but she would could DEAL WITH IT.

Maybe a few days later, the dots were gone, spiky green caterpillars in their place. I wasn't usually a big fan of bugs, but these ones never bit, only crawling on my hands if I sat next to them. They seemed to like me. Not long after, all the dresses were moth eaten, and after a week, they were completely ruined. They never touched my other clothes, only the ones that reminded me of what I hated.

After that, there were cocoons on my clothes. These were on the ones I wore, but I didn't even notice for a while. It just looked like white spots, like I must have accidentally spilled bleach on my sweater. But if I felt it, I could feel something under the white silk. I didn't want to disturb them, so I didn't put the clothes with the cocoons into the wash.

Two weeks, and the first of the moths emerged. They held on to my sweater as I was wearing it, letting orange and red wings dry in the air. I would take the remains of the cocoon off of the fabric after they were free, so Mother wouldn't see it. She had been home much more than usual those past few weeks, checking in on me more than she ever had.

I heard a loud crash from downstairs days later and came down there to see she had crushed one of the moths. Its wings were crumpled between her fist and the wall. She looked up at me, her eyes seeming to pin me to the wall, just like that moth. Somehow, I knew that was my first moth. Just like I knew she was blaming me for this. After that, I would always hide my moths whenever she checked on me. I started keeping their cocoons under my sweater vest when I wore it, so she wouldn't see. I was never scared of them, I was only scared she would kill them, and I would be alone again.

Last year, she wanted to have her birthday party at our house. She invited all her friends and family, it was to be a really fancy party. Not that all the other ones hadn't been, but she had her heart set on a bigger one.

When the time came for us to get ready, Mother would always get dressed and ready first, so she could help me and pretty me up to exactly what I should look like. This time, she came into my room in her usual clothes, holding an absolutely ruined dress. Apparently, some of my moths had gotten into her closet, too. She screamed at me that this was all my fault, and she was ruined. Her party was ruined. Her image, ruined.

She came in too fast for everyone to hide in time, a few still perched on my hair. She raised a hand as if to crush one of the moths near her, but I shouted at her to stop. I wasn't going to have any more friends chased away. I stood up to stop her, but I wasn't fast enough. She caught one of the moths between two hands, and pulled off one of its wings. That was the last straw. The entire swarm flew out from the closet, covering her until I couldn't even see her anymore under the flapping wings. She must have screamed, but I barely heard anything. I must've had more friends than I thought.

She fell at some point, all the moths on her back caught between her and the floor. After a few minutes, they all flocked back to me, leaving Mother crumpled on the floor.

Her skin was covered in small holes where pieces were bitten off, and parts of her cheeks were fully chewed through. Her clothes were fairly intact, just tattered at the edges. When she turned her head towards me, her eyes were GONE.

I ran from that house. I tried to run from my friends, but they found me. Something told me they wouldn't hurt me. Something told me they were my friends now. They are part of me.

Alis: Okay, that's it.

Styx: You seriously let me compel that out of you?!? [Sigh]

Alis: No, no, it's fine-

[Tape recorder clicks off]

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship edit and snippet | The Deceiver and The Wolf | vol. 1 / vol. 2

“It was probably nothing but [at that moment] it felt like the world.”

Mercedes placed the last pieces she had selected for him to 'model' out of a deadman's closet then turned to face Jacob with a triumphant smile, a pesky reminder to what he had haphazardly agreed to without thinking she was actually serious. "I'm not trying any of these.", he muttered, his frown only deepening when he realized if she had gone as far as to actually put together outfits, she was about to force him to wear at least one of them for more than a couple of minutes. Her dark eyes narrowed, shining in determination, "You promised." "It was a joke." A snort left her at the excuse, "I thought you don't do jokes." The glare that usually worked on his men and resulted in them scattering out of his sight had no effect on her, only prompting her to cross her arms over her chest, signaling she wasn't backing down. Goddamn it, woman. "Just one, Mercedes.", the words were but a bitter hiss that won a smile out of her, "So pick accordingly."

"Oh, how generous, Mr. Seed.", her focus returned to the bed that was covered in clothes, index finger running over her lip as she set on making her choice, "You're lucky whoever lived in this cabin was your size. Which reminds me… do you know what happened to him?" "No." His voice was even, emotionless, hiding the lie. Truth was, he had a very good idea of the McNeills fate - Stella had fallen victim to crossfire while the man whose clothes he was about to put on, had become just another failed participant in his trials. Zachary was weak, like so many before and after him, and the moment he had learned about his wife's passing, breaking him had turned into even less of a challenge. Something stopped him from uttering out those morbid details, even when Jacob knew they were bound to put an end to this form of torture she had come up with so early in the morning. The exact price would have been watching her carefree smile disappear from her face. Just power through it. "Off and the rest, too.", she ordered eventually, pointing at his field jacket. He made no move to undress, "Did you even pick anything yet?" "Yes. Now, clothes off, Jacob. Or do you need my help?" "Bossy.", he smirked despite his sour mood, refusing to let how uncomfortable he felt deep down show, "Maybe I should take you up on the offer, would certainly make all this worth the hassle."

Mercedes rolled her eyes as he threw his jacket at her, and she caught it without missing a beat, "Keep your undies on." "Yes, m'am." The sarcasm wasn't lost on her. "Keep this up, and I'm going to make you try on the Clutch Nixon Halloween costume this guy has. You sure would pull off that cape." His hands froze right when they were undoing his jeans, "You wouldn't dare." She cocked her head, sending another grin his way as she watched his progress, "We both know, I absolutely would." Seconds later, she was holding onto everything he was used to wearing while he stood in the middle of the bedroom in just his underwear, "Happy?" "Very. Now turn around and no peeking in the mirror, mister." He complied with a sigh, deciding to get things over with faster, now that he had made it past the point of no return. Jacob felt her approach before a hand appeared to his right, offering him a pair of pants that were thankfully green. Familiar. I can do this. He reluctantly put them on, avoiding his reflection as she passed him a shirt in a lighter shade of green, then a darker colored sweater. The realization she was sticking to what he prefered wearing hit him as he slipped the woolen garment over his head, and she helped him drag it down over his chest, speeding up the process. "See. Wasn't I right?", her hands set on his upper arms before he slowly lowered his eyes to the mirror in front of him for the first time since she had put the whole game in motion.

"I'm not wearing it out.", he grumbled out as he stared at himself, almost not recognizing the man looking back at him. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn civilian clothes. "Pretty please?" "No." She laughed at his sharp reply, coming to stand next to the mirror, "You look dashing." "Compliments won't get you anywhere, sweetheart." The way she bit her lip was the first sign of trouble, "A deal then?" "Absolutely not." He grabbed the hem of the sweater, readying to strip it off when she raised an eyebrow, challenge visible in her gaze. "What are you afraid of?" "I'm not afraid of anything.", he snarled, "I have no time to play dress-up." "You're not even a little bit curious what I will suggest?" "No." He was lying again, and the fact he hadn't removed any of the borrowed clothes told her as much, urging her on. "I will wear whatever you pick tomorrow." Silence took over the room, her steeled expression and demeanor telling him she stood behind her suggestion, further confirming it with the pinkie she offered him. "Deal, Jacob?"

Blue eyes shifted to her hand and then back to her face, "Aren't you worried?" Mercedes released a huff, "About what? You dressing me from head to toe in camo and tactical gear until I'm blending with the woods better than the goddamned trees?" "Last chance to back down.", he tried again, knowing full well she wasn't going to, that the warning was ringing hollow. "I've been told I can pull off even a potato sack." The matter-of-fact statement John probably would have classified as prideful, had he been there. "Deal.", he nodded as he wrapped his pinkie around hers, adding under his breath, "Am I really that predictable?" "Just a tiny bit."

[starrysky28]

The Times We Were Together: Chapter 5

Series Title: The Times We Were Together

Chapter Title: To Sherry, From Claire and Leon

Series Summary: After the Raccoon City incident, Claire, Sherry and Leon start living together, where they share many memories and moments with each other.

Words: 2,894

Warnings: None

December 24, 1998 - Two Months Later

"Aw, man. I got it on my sweater", Leon grimaced at the spec of red frosting that had been smeared on his sleeve.

Claire leaned over to look, "It's not that bad. Besides, it's so ugly to begin with that no one will notice"

Leon smirked and looked down at his sweater, which read "Meowy Catmas" in big letters with a cartoon cat below it. She was certainly right, even though she was the one who insisted they all wear ugly Christmas sweaters.

"How do your cookies look so much better than mine, Claire? Mine are so messy...", Sherry asked, unhappy with her glob of frosting on what was supposed to be decorated as a gingerbread man.

"Just takes practice. I've been doing this for years", she replied.

Sherry nods, "I guess that makes sense. My parents never let me decorate cookies, anyway"

"What?! First no pets and now no cookie decorating on Christmas?!", Claire remarked in a half-playful tone.

"Nope. That's why I like you guys so much, you let me do things that I've never done before", she smiled.

Leon shot Claire a glance and Claire put her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion.

"Sometimes I miss my real parents, though"

There was a silence in the room.

It was only natural that she missed them, they were her biological parents after all. Sure, they were definitely a bit neglectful of Sherry, but it wasn't like the Birkins were abusive or anything either. 

"Hey, where's Chris?", Sherry asked, breaking the silence.

The man in question had returned just one day earlier after being gone for two whole months investigating Umbrella. Since then, he'd been a little more spacey than usual, which of course, made Claire worry a bit, but she hoped that it didn't mean anything particularly bad.

Almost immediately after Sherry asked where he was, Chris came down the stairs, jacket in hand.

"Speak of the devil. We were just talking about you", Claire commented as he walked into the room.

"Oh, yeah? What about?", he asked.

"Where you were. You've had your head in the clouds lately it seems"

Chris laughed lightly and shook his head, "And you call me a worrywart. I'm fine, Claire"

"You sure? Because the last time you said that you had to leave for two months", she panned her eyes toward him.

Chris sighed, "I'm fine, I'm actually heading out to, uh, pick someone up"

"Who?", Claire questioned further.

"A friend I know from work. She's gonna stay with us for Christmas if you guys don't mind"

"She?!"

The burly man crossed his arms exasperated at her questions, "Yes, it's a she"

"And before you get any wacky ideas, we're just friends"

Chris hadn't brought home a girl since him and Claire were still in school. It wasn't that he was particularly awkward with women, heck, he'd been turning down girls left and right in high school. It was just that he never felt he had the time for a relationship.

"If you say so", Claire smirked.

She shook her head amusedly, thinking about how when Chris first left home two months ago, he was the one telling her to make her move on Leon. Now, made obvious by the bright red blush on his face, he was the one who seemed to have feelings for this "friend" of his.

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

About a half an hour later, the front door clicked open. 

"Alright, I wanna see this", Claire smirked, referring to the "mystery woman" her brother was bringing home.

With Leon and Sherry following not to far behind her, the trio snuck around the corner to the foyer area.

"There she is", Claire said in what could barely be considered a whisper.

The woman wasn't particularly tall and kept her hair in a short, neck-length bob. As expected due to her occupation, she also appeared to have strong arms and slightly broadened shoulders.

"Here, let me get your coat, Jill", Chris offered.

"No need, I've got it", the woman replied.

As she began to quickly take off her coat and hang it on the rack by the door, Chris locked eyes with the three of them, who were still "hiding" behind the wall.

"You guys can come out now, y'know...", he rolled his eyes amusedly.

"Hm?", Jill made a noise and turned around, unsure who Chris was referring to.

She stuck out her hand to greet her, "Sorry about the awkwardness, I'm Claire. Chris's younger sister"

"The name's Jill Valentine. I figured you were his sister. You may not see it, but you two look very alike", Jill shook her hand.

"...Oh, really??", Claire cringed, looking back at her brother.

"Also, he's told me all about you", she winked back at her.

Jill's forest-green eyes panned over to the man in the goofy Christmas sweater and young girl who still stood beside her.

"Oh! This is my boyfriend, Leon", Claire began.

"And this is our-uh...this is Sherry", She corrected herself slightly, placing her hands on the smiling girl's shoulders.

"It's nice to meet you all", Jill half smiled, focusing on Sherry in particular, almost as if she knew her from somewhere.

"Why don't you guys head into the living room while I get Jill settled in, okay?"

...

Once they were out of earshot, Jill began to ask Chris about Sherry, "So that little girl...she doesn't happen to be..."

"Birkin's daughter? Yes, that's her", Chris confirmed her suspicions.

"I see...", she watched as the three of them conversed in the living room, something about how the girl would be allowed to open one gift tonight before Christmas morning.

"They seem really close, almost like a real family", Jill smiled.

Chris looked back at her, "That's what I've been saying too" 

"But...Claire and Leon are so young, do you really think they can-"

He shook his head, "Claire may only be nineteen, but she's more mature than she looks. If anything, I think her and Leon can handle the kid just fine"

The sound of laughter came from Sherry, who was now watching Claire set up a card game for them to play while Leon was trying to figure out what temperature to set the oven for to cook the roast for dinner that night.

"Shall we join them?", Jill turned towards Chris.

"Sure. I'm great at that game anyway", he boasted.

"Ha! Not as good as me!", She taunted him.

Chris rolled his eyes playfully, "C'mon! You used to lose every time when we'd play at work"

"That was you, but whatever", Jill bantered back.

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

Nearly two whole hours went by while the group played cards, and as Jill had accurately predicted, Chris never won a single round.

"Alright, Chris. Draw four", Claire slammed the card down on top of the pile.

"...Not again", the man sighed, pathetically taking four more cards from the other deck.

"See, I told you guys he's not as good as he thinks", Jill smirked.

"Okay, well, if you lose this round, you have to give me twenty bucks", Chris betted.

"You're on!", Jill exclaimed, pointing a finger at him.

Suddenly, a smell similar to burnt meat wafted from the kitchen area.

"Wait, does anyone smell that?", Sherry noted.

The card game came to a pause as Claire sniffed the air, "Oh yeah...It smells like something's burning"

A gasp then came from Leon, "Oh my god, The roast!"

The man then shot up from where he was sitting and ran into the kitchen. Practically sliding across the floor, he opened up the top oven, unveiling a thick cloud of steam and smoke. Grabbing the pair of oven mitts that had been left out on the counter next to the oven, he quickly pried the roast out of the oven.

"Is it still okay to eat at least?", asked Claire, who was just entering the kitchen.

Leon took another look at the charcoal-colored meat and took off the oven mitts, "Honestly, I don't think so. Even if it was, it would still taste pretty bad"

Claire sighed, "Okay, well, why don't I take care of the rest. The dog is waiting at the door if you wanna take him out to pee"

Porkchop was so quiet for still being a puppy that Leon nearly forgot he had been sitting patiently at the door for at least five minutes, "Yeah, sure"

It's not like he couldn't have used some fresh air away from the lingering burning smell anyway.

...

Leon sat on the front steps of the house with Porkchop sniffing around the grass for a spot to do his business. The sky was nearly completely dark by this point, despite the clock only reading "5:45" when he went outside, and the air was so crisp it almost hurt his skin when the wind blew.

The streets and other houses in the neighborhood were silent probably filled and busy with families celebrating the holidays. There was the exception of the sound of someone walking down the street in Leon's direction. he would have assumed it was someone walking their dog, but he also didn't think someone would be walking a dog in what sounded like heels. Or maybe they would.

The clopping of the footsteps grew louder and closer, until the person came into view, only visible by the front yard light of the house.

The person appeared to be a woman, with short, dark colored hair, red heels, a black leather coat, and sunglasses for some strange reason, as it hadn't even been sunny all day.

She appeared to stand still, glancing around for about thirty or so seconds before Leon decided to confront her.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you lost?", he called out to her, getting up from the front step.

She continued to stand still for another few seconds, barely even flinching at the sound of his voice amidst the silence.

Leon then got the sense that perhaps she was drunk, he was a former cop after all. Usually that wouldn't be common so early in the evening, but it was the holidays so you never knew.

He got closer to the woman and reached his hand out, "Ma'am?"

It was at that moment that she suddenly swiveled around to face him, making Leon jump back a few feet.

There was no doubt about it, he definitely recognized her.

"Leon?", she muttered out quietly.

Leon squinted his eyes to get a better look, as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman was none other than the agent he'd met in Raccoon City, the one who'd suddenly kissed him in the cable car, the one who was supposed to be dead. Ada Wong.

"Ada?! I-Is that really you?", He blurted out.

"In the flesh", she replied bluntly, tucking away her sunglasses in her jacket pocket.

"But you-"

"I know", she now was looking him directly in the eyes.

"I made it out"

Leon was speechless.

Ada continued, "I was hoping I'd see you again, but..."

"It seems you've, well...It seems you've found your way"

"What do you mean?", he asked her, confused.

"You have that woman...and the young girl", she says.

"Uh...yeah, but-"

"But nothing", she interrupts him, her voice now loud and clear.

"We had something...but what we had was nothing compared to the bond you have with them"

"Ada...", Leon whispers, as light snow begins to fall almost right on cue.

Her voice shakes, "Go be with them...Go on with your life. If anything, you of all people deserve it"

Leon blinks and nods his head, "Okay..."

Ada smiles emotionally, something he'd never seen her do before, "Thank you, Leon. For everything"

With that, he turns away from her. Ada stands there for awhile, watching as he and the dog go back into the house, and how he turns back around before heading inside, mouthing a quiet "You're welcome" to her.

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

"Wow, it's really coming down out there", Jill mentions, referring to the snowfall, which had grown heavy outside.

"I wonder if we'll be able to play in it tomorrow!", Sherry added, taking a bite of a slice of takeout pizza, which they'd ended up getting in place of the inedible roast.

"I bet we will!", Claire elbowed her playfully.

She then looked over at Leon, who was staring off into space, "Hey, you alright, Leon?"

The man in question's head jolted upward, "Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry"

"Did something happen?", Claire asked.

"No. Just thinking about some things, that's all", he replied.

"Okay...", she shrugged.

"OH! Speaking of which, Sherry, do you want to open a present now?", Claire turned towards the young girl.

"Yeah!", she exclaimed.

"Shouldn't we wait for Chris to get home?", Jill asks, referring to the fact that he'd gone out to pick out a last-minute Christmas movie from the video rental store.

Claire and Leon looked at each other, and then back at Sherry who was already picking out a present from under the tree.

"I think we'll do a present now", Claire nods.

Sherry rummages through the pile of presents to find one with her name on it, until she comes across a medium-sized envelope reading "To Sherry, From Claire and Leon".

"What's in here?", she turns to them.

Both of them freeze up.

"Are you sure you want to open that one now?", Leon asks.

Claire also tries to convince her to open a different one, "Yeah, are you sure? It may not look it, but that one's pretty special..."

"Can I please open this one now?", As much as they tried, Sherry already had her heart set on that one.

"I suppose", Leon sighs playfully.

Without hesitation, Sherry was already opening the envelope carefully so not to rip the folded piece of paper inside. She tosses the envelope to the side and quickly unveils the contents of what appears to be a letter:

Dear Sherry,

We know more than anyone else in the whole world that you've been through a lot more than most 10-year-olds.

But what's important is that we're all still here. We made it.  Together 

What's also important is the fact that we'd love nothing more than for you to spend the remainder of your childhood with us.

In other words, we've both made the important  decision to step up and become your adoptive parents.

We have already signed the papers, but we figured we'd need your approval as well before making things official.

So, will you accept us as your parents?

Love,

Claire and Leon

The girl jumps up and gasps, "You...want to adopt me?"

The two new parents nod in unison. Before they can even say anything else, Sherry jumps into their arms, embracing them both in a big hug.

"Yes...Yes! Thank you so much! I...I love you guys!", she cries out, happy tears streaming down her face.

The three of them spend the next few seconds hugging, even with the adults getting teary-eyed themselves.

"We love you too, Sherry", Leon says, hugging her tighter.

"So much", Claire adds.

At that moment, the front door opens, entering Chris holding a plastic bag with a VHS tape inside.

He freezes when he reaches the living room to see Claire, Leon and Sherry crying and hugging while Jill watches fondly from the couch.

"Isn't it so cute?!", she says.

Chris looks around the room, "What did I just miss...?"

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

Two and a half hours later...

The living room was dark, only lit by the light from the end scene of the movie they had been watching. Sherry was already fast asleep, laying in between her new parents. Chris looked over next to him at Jill, who was still awake, but sleepily resting her head on his shoulder, which he somehow had just realized.

It was right before the credits began to roll when Jill whispered to him, "Would you ever want children, Chris?"

She could tell Chris was blushing even through the darkness, "Uh-I don't really know..."

"I never really thought about that to be honest", he lowered his voice back to a slight whisper.

Jill chuckled softly, "Just teasing you, Redfield"

...

Sherry awoke as she felt herself being carried up the stairs. 

"Leon?", she muttered out sleepily.

"Shhh, go back to sleep, just taking you up to bed", he whispered to her.

A few seconds passed, and before Leon thought she'd fallen back to sleep, she spoke again, "Um...Can I sleep in you and Claire's bed tonight?"

He paused at the top of the stairs, "Why?"

"I just wanna be with you guys longer..."

Leon smiles, "Okay, fine"

As he entered their room, Claire was just getting into bed, "I thought you were taking her to her room"

"She wants to stay with us tonight if its okay", Leon replies tiredly.

"Sure", Claire says.

Leon places her down in the middle of the bed and tucks her in. Then, he gets into bed, switching off the lamp, before laying down to sleep. The bed is a bit crammed now, but surely they'd make it work. 

"Hey, guys?", Sherry whispers, making sure they were still awake to hear her.

"Hm?", they both turn to face her.

"Thank you for everything..."

"No need to thank us. We'll always be here", Claire says.

With that, the three of them fall asleep, dreaming of more times they'll be together.

The End?

[miitarashi]

Can you make a tintin x male reader or any gender, where the reader is a serious but really kind person but nobody wants to get close to him because people think he is a bad person?….(I was going to ask for a NFSW but he gave me a cringe)

Not gonna lie,i'm close to make a NSFW about him lol. That's ok my beautiful unknow person. Hope i can do justice for your request! (Not i seeing this request while watching Tintin lol)

Reader = [Name] (Male)

Prompt: you're a kind person. But scary for the others.

You're a good person. Your mother raised you right,to be a polite and kind person,with a big heart,care for the well being even for people you don't know.

But

Unfortunaly,you have your father's image.

Tall,a little buff body,more than the normal for boys in your age,short hair and the whole center of the problem. Your face.

Always serious,looking like you was ready to start a fight (?) for some reason. It was scary for everyone.

You lost count of how many times people change their ways on the streets to pass far away from you.

Someone bumped on you? They freeze. Asking for forgiveness instead of sorry.

Raised your hand? Expect someone to flinch a little in a defensive manner.

You get used to it,but still, because of it you never had more than two or three friends but one thing that you always liked,was kids.

They get afraid in the begin? Yes.

They soon like you when you start talking? Yes too.

Sometimes you go to a local park just to play with some kids,always after asking permission for their parents and this jornalist that was passing by, caught this scene happening.

You was playing around with a young girl called Mikela. She was a sweet girl that loved calling you "her knight" on your little princess game. You carried her around,getting on one knee to bow in front of her, even pretending to defend her against enemy knights. However, soon she was called by her parents to return home and the sad moment arrived when she had to say goodbye.

"knight!" - she called and you promptly knelt down in the spirit of the princess game.

"Yes, oh! Princess Mikela!"

"I have to go now but… will you… wait for me tomorrow…?"

"Absolutely! a knight doesn't exist without his princess!" - you replied in a humorous way, earning a happy smile from the girl.

She jumped into your arms hugging you and you reciprocated in the same act, squeezing a little before letting go of her and saying goodbye with a nod. Sighing relieved for having spent quality time, soon turning to leave the park being received by the common apprehensive looks and doubtful.

"well..back to routine" - you thought to yourself.

Giving some steps away,you suddenly heard someone calling you.

"good evening sir,sorry for get close so suddenly,may i ask you name?"

It was a ginger-haired boy,an noticible topete,with a jovial face, polite expression and posture wearing a brown coat over a blue sweater and golf pants.

As soon as you looked back at him, you expected the usual reaction, a step back, doubtful look and apologies for being confused, however, he kept his polite posture walking at your same pace to be side by side on the sidewalk.

"Good evening for you too sir,my name is [Name], it's a pleasure to meet you"

You said in your normal kind tone,reaching a hand for him who taked in a firm hand shake.

"the pleasure is mine. Tintin. So i was right,you're not what people say"

"That famous journalist? Tintin?!" - you say slightly opening your eyes in a surprise cursing yourself for how slow you are,it was obvious!

"indeed,i'm" - he says humbly.

You couldn't contain a happy smile, you were currently working in a small newspaper and you always dreamed of to be a journalist like Tintin, and then, Tintin himself appears in front of you? Lucky day!

"Oh, Mr Tintin! I always wanted to meet you personally! I work in a small local newspaper, but i'd love to become a journalist like you" - the smile remained on your face, you couldn't contain the enthusiasm. Your idol walked side by side with you, it was a unique opportunity. He looked at you a little surprised, giving a slight laugh.

"Well...having someone like you would be very useful in my adventures" - he comments simplistic.

You stopped walking almost immediately and soon, Tintin did the same looking at your surprised face with a small smile.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"N-no..I just..wasn't expecting that one" - you chuckle nervously.

Tintin approaches, hands behind his back and the faint smile still on his face.

"I was walking in the park earlier..if I may comment, I saw your game with that little girl, I must say it was unexpected"

For some reason you felt your cheeks get slightly hot, you looked around trying to hide it a little.

"i-i was just..."

"I found it unexpected because you really seemed the opposite, but now, after this brief conversation I realize that the saying 'the kindest are the most unlikely' is absolutely true"

You look back at him, still feeling that slight blush, but happier in a way.

"Then..I'm..thankful you saw it. I like kids since..they're easier to overlook my looks and that little girl was a sweet person"

"Just like you, [Name]" - he nodded, making a brief gesture for you to continue walking with him.

"Well... what can I say? My mother raised me well"

"I'm sure she must be proud of the son she has"

Your smile soon returned to your lips, it was nice to talk to someone normally, without your image intimidating others, even more so with someone you deeply admire, however, one thing did not leave your mind so, you thought it best to ask instead of hiding it, you doesn't know when there would be an opportunity like this again and, at least, it's good to clear that doubt.

"..Mr Tintin..can i..ask something?" - he nodded.

"if you.. hadn't seen that moment in the park..would you..have approached..?" - there was uncertainty and fear in your voice,possibly afraid the answer will disappoint you or worse.

Tintin continued walking, silent for a few moments before answering.

"Possibly. You piqued my curiosity, that moment in the park or not, I would have walked up to you and started this same conversation. It wouldn't have changed much. In either case…."

He stops walking, a little further ahead of you, resting a hand on your shoulder with a gentle expression, looking into your eyes when he says:

"I would discover the same thing. That you are beyond what you seem, a good person, i dare say that I could consider you a sweet person where a simple 'hello' is enough to discover that"

He withdrew his hand and turned to continue walking, you stayed behind, processing the words the journalist said. Hearing that made you happy, quite a lot. Honestly, you couldn't say why you felt a little shy hearing that, you had to take a deep breath to calm down, unable to avoid the heat in your cheeks, but whatever, it was worth it.

After a few steps forward, Tintin turns to you.

"Well, my adventure proposal still stands. Would you like to give it a try, Mr [Name]?"

"..yes...yes i would love it!" - you replied already following his steps to go back to walking side by side.

"perfect, so follow me and i suggest you be prepare, i have a feeling this is going to be a difficult adventure"

"I'll see the master then? Lucky me" - you said in a almost playful tone.

"Yeah, lucky you, let's see how it goes"

"I won't let you down!"

He laughs briefly at your excitement.

"I don't doubt it"

___________________________________________

A/N: thank you for the request once again and,i think i should say sorry because it was my first male reader and i don't think it was good?? I don't know,maybe i'll do a part two to compansate for it. But bro?? Is it just me or i'm really starting to get on Tintin's personality??? THANK GOD- (and i'm using a different type of writing. Evolution 😌🙏🏽)

[giggles8899]

3.8 The Redemption

Written part below

It doesn’t take Xiao too long before he arrives at your place. You were sitting on the couch, on your phone texting Kazuha about both your days and how Xiao was coming over to talk. He was concerned about you, but also knew that the two of you needed to talk alone in private in order to overcome this obstacle. He understood that this was just a rough patch in your relationship that needed to be smoothed out. 

You hear a knock on your door, and yell out, “It's unlocked, come in!” Xiao slowly enters, the hoodie of his sweater pulled up over his head. After he closes the door behind him, he turns and stands idly, staring at the ground. There was an awkward silence between you two before you spoke up. “Well,” you say, “Are you going to come over here and let me give you a big hug?” He looked up to see your outstretched arms, and you could see he was worse for wear. He had major bags under his eyes, and his face was pale. The last time you ever saw him look like this, was when his siblings died.

After a moment, he finally crosses the distance between you two, sitting down, and burying himself in your embrace. His face was shoved into your neck, arms wrapped around your waist. He was holding on to you tightly, as if he let go you would blow away in the wind. You wrap your arms around his neck, one hand pulling his hood down, reaching to stroke his hair, the other stroking his back. At this point, small sobs were escaping his throat, and you knew he needed a moment to simply cry in your arms. You two sit there, slowly rocking, trying to shush and calm him down. His tears were warm running down your neck, his sobs sounding relieving yet heartbroken at the same time. 

Eventually, he managed to calm down, and slowly pull away, wiping his eyes. They were swollen and bloodshot, and you can see that his hair was slightly greasy, more than likely having not taken a shower since that night. He was trying to control his breathing for a few moments, before finally starting to speak. 

“I'm so sorry,” he says, voice hoarse, “I never meant to come at you like that.” You smile at him, helping wipe his face with your sleeve, “I know, I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to push you that far for you to lash out. I was stubborn in wanting to help you.” He shook his head frantically, “No, you did nothing wrong, I was the one being the ass. I couldn't see that you were trying to help me. My thoughts were everywhere before you texted me that night, and I wasn't in the right mindset to talk about that kind of stuff.” You look at him for a few moments before he continues.

 “I knew that I was starting to get complacent with Aether, but I didn't know how to keep moving forward with it. I was trying to sound like I was nonchalant and not really caring about him when that couldn't be further from the truth. I do really care for him, I just didn't know how to get it into words at all. I knew I could come to you about it, but you asking questions made me realize that I didn't have any answers. I started shutting down at that point, and I couldn't stop being a complete dick about it. I don't even know why I said half the things I did, it was like someone else was talking to you for me.” You nod at him to continue.

“I know you aren’t going to leave me and Kuni just because you're in a relationship now, but I was just scared at the potential possibility. I couldn't tell you why, but at that moment, I thought of him as a threat. It was just so many emotions hitting me all at once, and I just couldn’t……” He was beginning to sob again, and you wrap your arms around his neck. After a few moments, you respond to him. “I know that me being in a relationship is hard for you and Kuni, not being able to talk to you all as much. I know that you don't know how to form your thoughts into words at times. I won't ever hold you against that.” You pull away from, “What I will hold against you, is not being able to think for yourself. I know you've worked hard on keeping your emotions in check. You've also worked amazingly at your anger. I just wanted to understand why a guy like you wasn't thinking. Just in general, you always have been the smartest when it comes to thinking about problems and solving them. After seeing you act like that, I was worried you had regressed slightly back to when we were kids.”

At this point, you were staring him straight in the eyes, a serious look on your face. “You have to understand, this isn't just about you, Aether is also involved. He's my baby cousin, and I love him as much as you, so I wanted to make sure that if it was something that you two truly wanted, it would go as smoothly as possible. I'm not trying to get in the way of you figuring yourself and him out, but it was hurting me, that it felt like you weren't even trying.” He nods, begging to understand your point before you continue, “how do you think I would have felt if my baby cousin got his heart broken by my best friend? I don't know what I would do. But it would hurt even more if you didn't try anything at all.”

You smile and, without realizing it, let out a single tear, “Nothing would make me happier than to see you two thrive in a relationship together, but I’m not just gonna sit idly by if something seems wrong. You should know that. I have your back, and I always will, just like how I will have Aethers.” You put your hand on his shoulders, making sure the next point got across to him.

“But, you need to have your own back, Alatus. You have to have your own back first, followed by the people you love. I'm here to support you, but I can't hold you up, you have to do that yourself. Once you do that, you're set for life. And part of having your own back is being able to understand your emotions. You have to truly understand how you work, so that way you can be better. I can sit here all day and be here for you, but if you're not gonna be here for yourself, what good does my help do?”

It takes him a few moments to process what you were saying before realization crosses his eyes, and he nods.”I understand I know what I need to do in the future. Thank you, Y/n.” You nod back at him with a smile on your face. “Good, because if I had kept up, I was going to seriously get even madder than I was. I was gonna send Kazuha after you honestly.” You hear him chuckle, you two now sitting beside each other, shoulders pressed against one another. “Yeah, I could tell he wasn't happy when I saw him yesterday. I was doing my daily jog and I saw him walking to class.” You laugh at him, smacking his shoulder, “Yeah, he was quite mad that night, he came over to stay the night. He comforted me, I was a wreck after we had stopped talking.”

There were a few moments of silence, before Xiao spoke up again, “Y/n, I'm happy for you. I really am. After what happened last summer, I was worried that you wouldn't have someone special in your life, or wouldn't even try to find someone. He seems to compliment you quite well.`` You laughed even more at his words, “Well yeah, you could say that, he sort of takes all the bad parts about me and vice versa, and it's great. He can sort of wander at times, never knowing what the next step might be. I ground him in a way no other really has. It’s amazing, really. He also takes my jumbled-up thoughts and turns them into something that I can actually understand. We make a good pair.”

After hearing you say that, he pauses for a moment before flicking you in the forehead. You reach up with an “ouch”, before he said, “Don't get too soft now, can't have your head in the clouds.” You laugh and swat at his hands, before looking at him smiling bigger. He had a small smile on his face, one that was genuinely happy. You open your arms, before saying, “Now come here and let me give you a big ass hug and kiss on the forehead, I've missed you.” He lets out an airy laugh before returning the hug, letting you kiss the diamond on his forehead.  You two rock back and forth, happy that you two were able to get some understanding between you again. 

At this point, the door opens, and Kazuha enters. You hear him laugh behind you, “Well, I don't think I ever expected to see my woman in the arms of a man now.” “Hi KAzuuuuuuuuuuu”, you reply to him, straining your neck to smile at him. He comes up to the both of you as you two split apart, you standing and opening your arms for him. You receive a big hug and a gentle peck on the lips, before turning to Xiao. “I can assume you two are better now?” He asks, looking directly at Xiao. Xiao nods, standing up, before seeing you two separate. They stare at each other for a moment before Xiao speaks. “Take care of her will you? She means the world to all of us.” He asks, a trusting look in his eyes. He slowly holds his hand out to shake, waiting. 

Kazuha, without missing a beat, nods, before answering. “Of course, I can't go and break everyone's trust with her now, can I? Just make sure that you take care of her and yourself.” He returns the handshake happily.

Xiao nods, a thankful smile on his face.

Masterlist - PREV - NEXT

Authors Notes

ANGST OVER SAPPY AND FLUFFY PARTS HAPPENING NEXT

@starryeyedkoko @phyot @tokkishouse @eutopiastar If you want to be added to the tag list, just send an ask.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

Cold as Ice - Chapter 43 - Part 1

*Warning - Adult Content*

Landon Reilly

"I think I'm a little bigger than you," I told Wren.

He was making me try on these Christmas pajamas his mom had bought for him because apparently she wanted to get me some to match the family.

It felt a little strange doing something like this considering for my whole life Christmas was a drab holiday spent at church with my miserable parents but I would at least try to be enthusiastic, especially since I wanted to make a better second impression on Wren's family than my first.

"I don't know. I think tight clothes on you, looks sexy," Wren replied with a shrug, his eyes roaming up and down my body.

I turned to look at myself in the mirror and Wren's eyes landed on my ass as my back faced him.

"Maybe you do need a bigger size," Wren said, still staring.

"I don't think either of us want all that showing in front of my parents."

I felt even more heat rise in my face.

"No shit," I exclaimed.

Wren just refused to believe I was bigger than him.

He was tall and lean with a small waist.

I had a more athletic build.

The only time I really fit in his clothes was when they were oversized on him.

He walked up beside me and smacked my ass with a wide grin on his face.

"No need to worry, darling, I'll tell my mother to size up," he said, trying his best to sound endearing but all he did was annoy me more.

"I look ridiculous."

Wren leaned down from behind me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Imagine how much more ridiculous you'd look if you were the only one not wearing them on Christmas morning," he replied.

He was right, of course.

He knew how much I didn't want to stand out and he knew how much I wanted to make a better impression on his parents.

If his mom wanted me wearing Christmas pajamas to match the family, then I would wear Christmas pajamas to match the family.

"You know, you've never taken me on a date," Wren said after a few moments.

I turned to face him with a confused expression on my face.

He stood up to his full height, taking his chin off my shoulder.

"What do you mean? We've been... out," I replied, realizing we really hadn't been on any actual dates.

"Those don't count."

"Well, what do you mean I haven't taken you on a date? You haven't taken me on one either."

"I suppose that's true," he said.

He thought for a moment.

"You could take me ice skating."

"You don't even like ice skating," I reminded him.

"But it would be a good date," he said.

"You could hold my hands and pull me along."

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to decide if he was being serious.

"You actually want to do that?"

Wren shrugged but he didn't give me any other suggestions, so I assumed that was what he wanted and now I had to plan some date to take him on when I had never planned a date in my life.

"Okay... we could go after dinner tonight?" I suggested but it came out more like a question.

Tonight we were having dinner with the Hansons and Wren would be meeting them for the first time.

I was less nervous than I thought I would be.

Wren was good at speaking to people and he wasn't one to get nervous.

I had no doubts that Anne and Matthew would like him.

I changed out of Wren's pajamas and handed them back to him.

Wren went through my clothes and picked out a sweater and jeans for me to wear.

It seemed like he liked picking out clothes for me, so I just let him.

"When will Anne and Matthew be home?" he asked as I got dressed.

"Any minute I think," I replied.

They were out running some errands and last minute Christmas shopping and they would pick up the food while they were out.

It felt a little strange that Wren would be meeting Anne and Matthew.

They weren't my parents but they were a big part of my life and just last month Wren basically laughed in my face at the thought of meeting them.

So much had changed since then.

I looked at Wren now and couldn't believe we had come so far in such a short time.

"So, are you saying we don't have time?" Wren asked, stepping closer to me.

"Time for what?" I asked.

He brought his mouth to my neck, kissing me skin slowly and sensually.

His hands gripped my waist then moved lower, Wren bringing one to palm the front of my jeans.

I let out a shaky breath, tilting my head back slightly to give him more access.

I felt a smirk against the sensitive skin of my neck, his hand beginning to rub against me.

"Wren..." I trailed, my voice low and breathy like it was starting to be hard for me to inhale.

"Hmm?" Wren hummed.

"What do you want? Do you want me on my knees for you?"

Wren knew exactly what he was doing to me.

It was hard for me to grasp just how much control he had over me.

All he had to do was touch me and I'd be putty in his hands.

It probably didn't even have to be a touch.

It could be a look or a word and he'd have me.

"Yes, I want..." I trailed again.

If he was feeling nice, that would be all I had to say for him to do whatever he was planning.

If he was feeling like an asshole, he'd make me tell him exactly what I wanted in all the obscene words it required.

It was when Wren started unbuttoning my jeans that we heard the front door open.

"Shit," I muttered.

Wren pulled away with a smirk.

"I suppose we'll have to save that for later," he said, his eyes moving up and down my body.

"You might want to take care of that or cover up."

His eyes were zeroed in on where his hand had just been.

I blushed furiously at his words and pulled my sweater down so that it covered the front of my jeans.

"I hate you so much," I said with a scowl.

Wren looked at me fondly, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

"No you don't."

He was right, of course, I didn't.

We stayed in my room for a moment before Wren motioned toward the door.

"Well," he said.

"Introduce me."

********

I led Wren down the stairs and to the kitchen where Anne, Matthew and Micah were setting the food on the table.

Anne was the first to notice us when we arrived and she had a wide smile on her face.

"Hi guys," she exclaimed, walking over to Wren with her hand held out.

"It's so good to meet you, Wren. I'm Anne."

Wren shook her hand and then Matthew's as he walked over.

"It's lovely to meet you both," he said politely.

"It's nice to see you again, Micah."

"Yeah, you too," Micah replied, grinning over at me like he was in on some type of secret I had no idea about.

After we got settled at the table with food on our plates, Anne and Matthew started asking Wren all sorts of questions, which would have made me uncomfortable if I were him but he took it in stride.

If Wren was good at one thing, it was talking, though he was good at other things too.

"So, Wren, how did you and Landon meet?" Anne asked.

She sat across from him, giving him all of her attention.

I had already given her a brief explanation on how we met but knowing her, she was hoping for more details if she asked Wren.

"Well, Landon knew my brother last year, so I met him very briefly then," Wren told her.

"But we ran into each other in Providence a few times and started hanging out."

That was basically the same version of events I had given her.

"And you go to Brown? That's a great school," Matthew added.

"Yes Sir, I'm very fortunate. I love it there," Wren said.

After a few more minutes of questions, Wren excused himself to go to the bathroom and then all eyes were on me.

[mrvlbimbo]

His secretary but in a porno way 

Saul Goodman x reader

20ish year age gap, spit kink kinda, creampie, he fucks his secretary (not in the office sadly), idiots in lust, major sexual tension, I can't tell if this is out of character for him or very very in character, Saul talks a big game but he's kinda subby when push comes to shove. Also im warning y'all this probably isn't very sexy bc they're just very goofy the whole time. BUT it is very cute! there's a mention of viagra but I'm not a doctor so I probably got it wrong, ignore me hehe

4.1k words btw

Frankly, she was getting a bit tired of being ignored.

Sure, when she got hired by a sleazy seeming lawyer almost twice her age she was actually a little concerned about the idea of him checking her out.

But there was something about him that made her want him to look at her like that, maybe it was because he absolutely refused to.

About a month in, she switched to pencil skirts that were a good three inches shorter and as far as she could tell, he never noticed. She had to strut into his office one day in a skirt that barely covered her ass before she could even get him to say anything about it.

"Look. I don't want to tell you how to live your life, female empowerment and all that, yeah. But this isn't a great part of town and if you're going to wear stuff like that, I just worry ya know?" he shook his head, genuine concern lining his tired face.

"Right, sorry Mr. Goodman." She ducked her head in shame, embarrassed that her unprofessionalism hadn't made him madly lust after her; it had just made him call her out for being unprofessional.

"You know what? Wear what you want, just- Would you let me drive you home?" her heart started beating out of her chest at the suggestion. It was the only indication he had ever given that he cared for her more than just as the person who got him coffee in the morning.

After that she went back to more sensible skirts, still a bit shorter than was professional but nothing to write home about. When paired with tight low-cut sweaters, stiletto heels, and thin mesh tights held up by a garter just above the hem of her skirt, she felt like a sexy secretary from a cheesy low budget porno. In the best way of course.

She knew she wasn't ugly, that couldn't be the problem. He never wore a wedding ring either, not that that would have stopped her.

Maybe he was just a good guy? A guy who didn't have any fantasies about banging his hot young secretary on top of the desk in his office. Although, she highly doubted that.

But she still had no proof that he wanted her. Until one glorious night when she was locking things up and she decided to power down his computer for him, only to be met with the home screen of a porn website.

She couldn't hold herself back from looking at his watch history and she was surprised in the very best way to find titles such as,

"businessman getting a blowie under his desk during a meeting" "lawyer fucks his hot young secretary" "older man younger woman" "office sex" 

She really should have turned off his computer then and there, but instead she watched a few of the videos.

There was one that appeared in his searches multiple times, so she figured that would be a good place to start. And she was right to pick that one.

The female actress bore a striking resemblance to her, like if she wasn't wearing her glasses she could totally mistake it as one of her (frequent) sex dreams about getting down and dirty with her boss.

She tried to stay calm, she really did, but now that her suspicion was confirmed he was even more on her mind. And she really started to notice the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

Glancing up from his papers when she yelped "whoops, dropped a pen!" and watching her bend over just enough so he could see her lace panties and the bit at the top of her thighs where her hosiery ended.

And she just narrowly missed the way he slid a hand into his pants to relieve himself.

But she had gotten more bold, leaning over his desk to show off her chest anytime he asked her a question. Brushing her hand on his shoulder and arm when he walked by her and always standing close enough for him to smell her perfume.

She also started accepting more rides home, making it an almost nightly thing.

At first he parked on the street and let her walk up to her apartment by herself. But this wasn't good enough for her.

So maybe she hired one of the kids next door to give her trouble one night and make it seem like she was in more danger than she was, not that it could be proven. But it worked like a charm because after that he always walked her to the door.

It seemed like every time he dropped her off they stood at her doorstep for just a bit longer, if only she could get him to come into her apartment.

There wasn't a lot of rain in Albuquerque so when it started pouring one night just before she was about to leave work, she knew it had to be fate.

"Mr. Goodman, can I get a ride home please? It's raining pretty hard out there." She may have imagined it but something in his face changed when she said his name.

"Of course, dear. Just give me a minute to grab my things," he replied simply.

Dear, that was new. He rarely ever called her anything other than her name. Sometimes he called her Miss and it felt delightfully old fashioned.

Their car rides were always quiet but this time it was silent, having to pay close attention to the road due to the rainfall coming down hard.

Despite the rain, he still walked her to the door, his gray suit jacket darkened by the rainwater by the time they arrived.

"Can you drive in this?" she asked tentatively. 

"We'll see," he sighed, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. He gave her an awkward pat, both of them cringing at the exchange.

"Wait- Uh, why don't you stay. Just till the rain clears up, please." The lie formed quickly, her thoughts grasping for an excuse to make him stay.

“I uh- I don’t want to impose.” As the words come out of this mouth, the weather worsens, hail coming down along with the rain and making it seriously dangerous conditions.

"No really. I mean like who's gonna pay my bills if my boss dies in a rainstorm?" she giggles a bit awkwardly, giving him a pleading look to just agree so she doesn't have to keep going with her unconvincing charade.

"You make a good point. Plus I can't leave my lovely assistant to brave the storm on her own, now can I?" His words were in agreement but he still seemed hesitant, eyes glancing back and forth from her to his car parked in the street.

"I mean you can, but you really shouldn't." She tried her best to make her voice breathy and seductive, twirling his paisley tie around her fist and tugging it slightly.

"Oh and why is that?" his eyes widened as he looked down and met hers, pupils blown wide although he assumed it was just from the dim light outside.

"Because I want you here," she cooed, pulling him into the apartment behind her and slamming the door.

In the dirty part of her brain this scenario went down a very specific way, she pushed him against the closed door and they had their way with each other. Sometimes it was slow and sensual, sometimes it was fast and hard but she had fantasized about it many times.

But then there was reality, in which she led Saul into her apartment and they sat on the couch in awkward silence.

"So uh... can I get you anything, Mr. Goodman?" she asked, while reaching her hand over to suggestively run up his thigh and batting her lashes at him.

"Just Saul is fine. And I'll have a gin and tonic." She could see the way his body tensed at the contact and she wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing.

"I guess you could say I better call you Saul." She giggled at the corny joke, hopping off the couch to mix him a drink.

"That's clever, I should get you to help me with commercials." She smiled to herself while mixing the drink as she thought of the idea.

"Well, as long as I get to spend more time with you." She stood behind him, passing the glass over his shoulder and then perching her hands there, gently massaging the sore muscles. "Mr. G- Saul, I mean...whoops."

He laughed lightly, putting a hand over hers on his shoulder. "It's ok."

"So..." she started

"So?" he prompted when her words stalled, anxious to hear whatever she had to say.

"Long day?" she asked as if it wasn't obvious by the tension in his shoulders.

"They're all long days," he grumbled, leaning into her touch, much to her approval. 

"That's no good. You're always so stressed. Taking care of everyone else, but who's gonna take care of you?" There was no way other than suggestively to interpret her words. The tension of them hung in the air until he responded.

"Isn't that your job?" he asked, his voice deeper than usual. The gravely tone made her want to giggle like a schoolgirl with a crush on her professor and the irony of it was not lost on her.

"Oh please. You barely concede to letting me get your coffee in the morning. Sometimes I feel like you're the secretary and I run a very successful phone answering company." She sighed and rounded the couch to sit down next to him.

"You really are clever," he mused, leaning his chin on his palm and staring at her with a small smile. Then he snuck his hand over onto her thigh much to her surprise, but not an unwelcome one. 

"You're the clever one, sir." Her hand traced over the back of his, putting gentle pressure on his fingers and urging him to squeeze the soft flesh of her thigh. 

And he did squeeze, just a little bit. But it was enough to make a shiver run down her spine. "Don't call me sir, it makes me feel old." His voice was a low growl now, eyes staring her down like predator to prey. 

“Men are like wine, they get better with age.” Her voice was heavy with lust, their faces so close together now that her warm breath was brushing his cheek. Her fingers crawled up the arm of his suit jacket, dark manicured nails clutching tightly to the fabric to pull him dangerously close. 

"Still raining like hell out there, huh?" He pulled back, leaning back on the couch and looking forward to the dark tv instead of at her. It was a clear effort to cool down the tension of their situation. 

"Yep, looks like you're stuck with me for the night. I'll grab you something to wear to bed." She rushed out of the room, mentally kicking herself both for coming on too strong and for not fully committing.

She needed this night to go the right way so she could fuck him and get it out of her system. But it was so easy just to talk to him, that wouldn't do.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood of her bedroom floor as she paced around thinking of a solution. Simple flirting wasn’t going to work with him, maybe it was his moral code or maybe he hadn’t gotten laid in a while but it was like trying to get into the pope’s pants. 

After grabbing a pair of sweatpants for him, she frantically dug through her underwear drawer, coming up with a forest green nightgown after tossing the contents of the drawer onto the floor of her room. 

When she arrived back in the living room with the pair of sweatpants for him to wear, he had already stripped down to his boxers. Embarrassingly, she squealed, slapping a hand over her eyes and tossing the sweatpants in his direction. 

“Ooh lookit that, you’re so tiny without heels on.” His eyes raked over her body, quickly coming up with an excuse for the transgression. Although it fell flat when contrasted with the hungry look he couldn’t seem to hide. 

“Shuddup, you ass,” she giggled, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it, somehow using the momentum to “fall” into his lap. 

Her knees were on either side of his legs so she was straddling him and her hands clutched at his shoulders to steady herself. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He teased, reaching out and twirling a strand of her hair around his finger before tucking it back behind her ear. 

“No, sir. I guess I’ll have to find some way to make it up to you, huh?” She leaned in, lips just barely brushing his as she whispered sensually. The intention in her words was clear. 

“Jesus christ. Is this really happening?” he shakes his head as her sharp fingernails scratch down his bare chest, breath hitching when her hips jerk against his. 

“I don't know what you mean.” She blinked at him innocently, hands resting on his waistband just above the obvious bulge showing through the gray sweatpants. 

“I mean the fact we’re living the plot of a low budget porno. Frankly, I’m just bummed we can’t drive to the office and make it more immersive.” His hands slid under the green lace and mesh of her nightgown, groping at her hips and leaving an indent from the ring on his pinky finger. 

“Would you want that? You wish we were in the office right now? Wish you had me pinned against one of those stupid fucking pillars? Or maybe sitting pretty on your desk?” Her glossy lips glided over his neck, leaving pink marks on the slightly tanned skin. 

“Hey! The pillars arent stupid. They’re dig-” Before he could finish, she was smashing her lips against his, her tongue slipping into his mouth skillfully and halting any words he might have been trying to say. “-nified. The pillars are dignified,” he panted out, slurring his words slightly despite only having one drink. 

“Aw, they’re really not. But it's cute that you think that.” Her hands cup his face in a surprisingly gentle way, her soft hands brushing his jaw and cheeks as she seemingly studies his face. 

“Cute? Seriously?” he scoffed, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

“Yes. You’re cute. You make this little face when you’re thinking where you scrunch your lips into a line, it's very cute.” The brushes her thumb over his lip, just barely sliding her finger past the seal of his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. He wrapped his lips around her finger, sucking enthusiastically and swirling his tongue around the pad of her finger. 

He practically fucking whimpers when she pulls her finger away and sucks it into her own mouth, humming at the taste of him. 

“Is that why I'm here? Because you think I'm… cute?” He gasped when her lips went back to his neck, sucking and biting his sensitive skin. 

“You’re here because I want to fuck you ‘til the sun rises, but I suppose that’s part of it too.” Her hand slipped under the waistband of his sweatpants, pleasantly surprised that he had slipped out of his boxers when she wasn’t looking.

“O-oh. That might just kill me,” he groaned, hips jerking up into her hand. 

“Oh what a terrible way to go,” she giggled, moving off his lap and sinking down to her knees between his legs. 

The sight of her on her knees for him, tongue lapping at the precum on the tip of his cock, was absolutely sinful. The most he could do to stop from blowing his load right then was grab a fistfull of her hair and hold her still. “Woah woah, ok one sec. I'm going to cum if you do that.” 

“On my face or in my mouth?” she asked, a mischievous smirk pulling up the corners of her lips. He gulped when she ran her tongue over the length of him. Her movements were careful and teasing, heeding his warning and slowing her roll to give them more time. 

“I’ll fuck-” she seals her lips around his cock, taking him down her throat until her nose is pressed flush to his stomach. “I’ll let you know.” 

She looks up at him with desperate eyes, trying to communicate just through the fluttering of her eyelashes that she was trying to say, fuck my throat. 

He got the message loud and clear, tangling his hand in the back of her hair and somehow forcing himself further down her throat if that was even possible. 

Drool started to pool at the corners of her lips, salty tears spilling from her eyes and dripping down onto his cock. “Jeez you are fucking incredible,” he whimpered, hands now brushing her hair back gently and keeping it out of her face. 

Just as he was about to cum she pulled away, her saliva mixed with his precum dribbling down her chin. “As much as I love having your cock in my mouth, I need you to fuck me.” 

She stood shakily, tumbling forward into his arms and back to her place on his lap. She pressed her mouth to his messily, giving him a taste of his own cum on her tongue. 

“You dirty little slut,” he murmured against her lips, his hands reaching down to squeeze her ass as she licked into his mouth. 

“Creepy old perv,” she countered with a wink, reaching her hand down to clutch his weepy cock, dragging the head of it against her warm entrance. 

His head fell back against the couch, hands grabbing her waist so hard it was probably going to leave bruises. She’d need to think of a good excuse to wear something that exposes them. 

“Touche. Do you have a condom?” He turned to reach for the cabinets next to the couch but she stopped him, grabbing his wrists and bringing his hands back to cup her tits. To which he reacted with wide eyes and a labored breath. 

“I have a latex allergy,” she lied quickly, head fuzzy with the idea of him inside of her. 

“No you don't. You’re allergic to peanuts and bees.” He scrunches his eyebrows at the random lie, taking a second to flaunt his random knowledge of her. 

“Fuck me raw?” she offered with a bubbly grin on her cheeks that he couldn't seem to say no to. 

If his eyes were wide before, they were practically popping out of his skull now. Concequences be damned, he was going to fuck his secretary raw and fill her with his cum if it was the last thing he did. “Well if you insist. But my doing it on the couch days are behind me, mind if we take this to the bedroom?” 

With minimal warning he stood. “Saul, oh my god!” she yelped, her legs wrapping around his waist to keep her steady in his arms. 

“I gotcha,” he grunted, strong wiry arms wrapping around her back and holding her to his chest as he made the trip from her living room to the bedroom. 

He tossed her onto the bed and she giggled as he frantically shoved his pants off and crawled onto the bed to hover over her. “I think I just threw my back out,” he groaned as he kissed down her neck and groped at her chest and thighs, bunching up her nightgown to run his fingers through the slickness between her legs. 

“I’ll give you a massage later, sugar,” she cooed, fingers tangling in the short hair at the  back of his neck, nails slightly digging in in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. 

“Pet names already?” he teased, tucking his finger under the straps of her dress one by one and easing her out of the garment, kissing every new stretch of exposed skin. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.” with her legs around his waist, she flips their positions so she’s on top, hands on his chest to steady herself as she looks down at him with hunger. 

“Yes ma'am.” His voice was practically a whimper, a new side of him that she was quite enjoying. Who knew the bigshot-always-in-charge Saul Goodman liked to let go a bit in bed? 

His breath caught in his chest when she slid his cock into her with relatively little difficulty, despite its size “Feels alright?” 

“Fuck yeah. ‘S really big,” she moaned, moving her hips as much as was possible while still recovering from the large intrusion stretching her. 

“If I knew—if I—” He tried to say something but his head was swimming with the feeling of her warm heat squeezing the life out of him. 

“So that's how to get you to shut up?” she teased, nails scratching his chest as she started to bounce on his cock and take his breath along with any coherent thought that might’ve still been floating around in his head. 

“Faster, c’mon,” he groaned, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips and urging her to increase her momentum. 

“You don't get to m-make demands,” she growled, her hand curling his neck and squeezing just enough to make him whine. “I’ve been wanting you for months, let me take my fucking time.” 

“Touch yourself for me, baby. I know you want to.” He takes control of the thrusting. With his bruising grip on her hips, sliding her up and down his cock and brushing that spot deeeep inside of her that made her see stars. Meanwhile her skillful fingers snaked down between them to play with her clit. 

And this is when he gets really into it, curses spilling off his lips along the lines of “Fuckin’ perfect little slut.” “Shoulda done this ages ago.” “This pussy is mine, ya hear?” “All fuckin’ mine.” 

“Yeah, you love this pussy?” she whined, her hands shaking now as they both lost control. 

“You know I do.” The filthy sound of skin slapping together was almost overpowering his choked out words, the slight twinge in his back not nearly enough to ever make him think of stopping. 

“Cum in it,” she demands, tightening around him and practically sucking him in farther if that was even possible. 

He obliged her demand of course, because who is he to deny the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen while she’s cumming on his cock. 

“Whoo,” she shouted, hips rolling against his with vigor to milk every last drop out of him. 

“Holy mother of god. I think I’m dead.” He stares up at the ceiling as she struggles off his lap with shaky legs. 

“I think you’re fine, considering the fact you're still hard. Dead men can't have boners.” She giggled slightly, fingers dancing over the head of his still sensitive (and hard) cock. 

“Shit. I took some really strong viagra before this. I’ll uh…handle this,” he grumbled, pushing her hand away and replacing it with his. 

He watched her every move as she got out of bed, cum leaking down her leg. His cum. He touched himself to the sight of it and for the first time, he didn’t feel like a pervert jerking off to her. 

“Be back in a sec,” she muttered, going into the bathroom and leaving him to his own devices. 

He waited patiently for her, only granting himself little teasing touches until she returned. “Have I ever told you that you have the most perfect tits?” he groaned, reaching over with his free hand to squeeze her boobs.  

“No, you hadn’t mentioned it.” She sighed when he rolled over and buried his face in her chest. 

“Fuckin’ perfect tits.” His voice was muffled by her aforementioned tits, but he got the point across by mouthing at the sensitive skin. “Can I mark ‘em up?” he asked, not bothering to listen to her response before he was biting down and leaving red marks that would fade out into a dark purple later. 

“Guess I’ll have to start wearing those low cut sweaters again,” she teased, one hand petting his hair while she reached the other down to play with his neglected cock. 

“You always know exactly what to do, I—fuck—you’re so—” his words stutter out as he cums again, his spent body shaking against her. 

“Perfect?” she finished, quoting his earlier compliment. 

He gave a content sigh, nuzzling his face into her chest and wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. “Yeah.”

************************

whelp... that was certainly an experience, I hope y'all had thoughts about it

I know I did!

lmk if y'all have idea for this pairing I kinda love the idea of Saul with a hot young secretary