#but yeah life has been both awful and lovely! but my god i will try to prevail | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sophiethewitch1 · 11 months ago

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What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. It’s a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didn’t remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, it’s mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.

You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesn’t hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.

“Miss, are you awake?” a man’s voice rings through your apartment.

Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didn’t remember your name sure, but he just called you ‘intern’ instead. You’d been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.

“Hm, yeah, I’m awake,” you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.

“You don’t sound very awake, Miss,” the man replies, his tone familiar.

“Who is this?”

He sighs, “Miss, are you being sarcastic?”

“What? No, I’m serious,” you confusedly answer.

“…This is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-”

“Master who now?” you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?

He sighs again, “I understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as I’ve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didn’t have to talk to you when you’re like this.”

“What?” you repeat, like the idiot you are.

“Good day, Miss. And happy birthday.”

He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Molly’s pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.

You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. You’ll put glitter in Molly’s car’s vanity mirror or something.

You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.

…Something about this isn’t right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like… Well, you don’t know. All you can think about is your new boss’s wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.

Your pillow… kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your boss’s wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.

You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.

Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you can’t afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isn’t in the same space as the bedroom. You can’t see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decoration’s are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.

You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.

A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. You’re looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.

The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You don’t have a view, you’re on the fourth floor and there’s a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.

You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you can’t see the streetside. You’re too high up. You’re somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.

Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know it’s all too expensive for your peasant hand. Let’s start thinking… whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.

So… so… is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?

Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?

You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesn’t disappear, it’s much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. This’ll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you should’ve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.

Wait, Molly!

You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.

It’s… it’s not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didn’t keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.

You think you’re going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, it’s hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you can’t do this right now!

You press your thumb to the ‘on’ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Molly’s name in your list of contacts.

BLOCKED - ‘Bruce Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Damian Wayne’

BLOCKED - ‘Dick Grayson’

BLOCKED - ‘Tim Drake’

‘Alfred :)’

BLOCKED - ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’

You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.

The screen still works. Even if it’s cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, won’t forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.

As fate commands, you click on the ‘Bruce Wayne’ contact. The description is very simple.

‘Massive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.’

You go back. Click on ‘Dick Grayson’.

‘Massive dickhead’s beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.’

Again. ‘Damian Wayne’ this time.

‘Massive dickhead’s massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.’

And finally, ‘Tim Drake’.

‘The only acceptable one.’

…Well, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldn’t call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.

The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didn’t tell you.

You click on ‘Alfred :)’. He’s the one that called you earlier and also called you ‘Miss’, for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.

You go back, and click on the final of the list, ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’.

‘Don’t listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.’

She wants to what?

A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtub’s lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who… how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.

You creep over to the door.

“Ma’am, if you don’t open this right now, I’m quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and he’s going to be very upset if I do so. There’s only so many assistants in this city!” from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.

You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.

Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.

She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly she’s trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasn’t your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.

“Ma’am,” she stresses the word, “Please unblock me.”

You blink at her, “Uh, sure.”

She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“Oh- oh, right now?” you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.

Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.

She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock ‘The Wicked Witch of the West.’ She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in ‘your’ phone.

You were still slightly concerned about the ‘She wants to eat you’ thing, but she seemed… alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.

Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.

“Ma’am, did you just wake up? It’s already 4 o’clock,” she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like you’re being scolded.

“Yeah- yeah, sorry about that,” you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasn’t. Everyday life.

You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with… this, and then you’d wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.

You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.

You’re abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadn’t been listening.

“We need to get you ready, Miss,” she says like she’s repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.

Ready for what? You think if you ask her she’ll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.

“The stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,” she pauses, giving you a strange look, “I appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayne’s orders first and foremost.”

“Wayne… like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?” you ask, even though there’s really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.

Because it’s impossible. Even if it’s a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said ‘that can’t be right’, even if you knew none of this was real.

You realise, quite late, that you don’t even know this lady's name. ‘Wicked witch’

“Yes, Ma’am. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,” she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesn’t even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe ‘dream you’ often asks stupid questions.

‘Normal you’ certainly does.

“Oh… okay…” the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Aren’t P.A.s supposed to… you don’t know, fix that? Or maybe she’s not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.

This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, y’know, real.

The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.

You look at yourself. You look… different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.

You look sick. You look like… you remember, you look like…

In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. You’re not allowed to, you’ll break if you do.

You just don’t. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.

Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, you’d had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because you’d invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasn’t a bath.

You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.

You press your cheek against the glass. It’s cold. You’re cold.

You’re sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?

Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but there’s a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.

“Ma’am! Ma’am, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Ma’am? Ma’am!”

You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. You’re still here. You went to sleep, but you’re still here. Maybe it’s one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you haven’t. Or, ah, something similar.

You feel so tired. You really, really didn’t miss this feeling.

Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise you’re still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.

A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think it’s bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around you’ll be doing will require a fainting couch.

The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. They’re clean, and they seem to be your size.

Still, this is a bit…

“Are these… new?” you ask, because there’s no tag or anything.

“Yes, Ma’am. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,” she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasn’t out of the ordinary for her.

“Yes, please.”

She gives you a pair of Victoria’s Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.

“Cool, sweet, thanks,” you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.

She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. You’re a go-along-with-it kind of person.

You were… you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.

You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like you’ve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush you’d only seen working at BatBurger.

The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if she’s got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.

She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell they’re the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. They’re all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.

They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.

“I’m surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,” a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed ‘The Wicked Witch of The West’ was actually called Jeanine.

Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.

“Yes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. I’d like to apologise once again for any past issues,” Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea what’s going on, and definitely no idea what they’re talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it… was that ‘dream you’ wasn’t a very harmonious person.

Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.

“The disrespect I’ve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, it’s nice to actually have our dear client before us,” the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said ‘monsoir’ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. She’s closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.

“I don’t know, I thought I’d be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,” the man teases, and you’re relieved at the kindness in his gaze. He’s wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldn’t place.

If Molly were here, she’d jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper “One of those homosexuals, me thinks” even if she was bi herself.

You wish Molly were here.

“Yes, well, I’d like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isn’t a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if you’d please.”

And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.

They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope they’re not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didn’t dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.

They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.

And then you’re done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.

You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.

They’d gotten rid of the signs.

You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.

Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.

So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.

When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while it’d been the tallest building in the world, but you couldn’t remember your elementary school education all that well.

It wasn’t like this information would’ve been useful at any point in your life. You still don’t think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.

The door opens, and immediately you’re overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.

“We’re already very late, Ma’am. No time for faffing around,” she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.

What? But all you’d done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if you’d just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail you’d have been able to avoid this. Still, you’re out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.

“Miss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Don’t you think it’s a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?”

“Miss! Is it true you’ve been disowned?”

“Miss, miss, about your family…!”

Oh, well, even if what they’re saying is awful, it’s a relief. It’s your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to… You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.

Life’s a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.

The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasn’t for Jeanine’s herculean strength you’re certain you’d be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant… secretary… lady is careful not to let that happen, however.

Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didn’t fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.

You don’t get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You don’t get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You don’t get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.

In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you don’t know. Hurray!

You’re shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you can’t make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.

Thank God for that. Well, since she’s making an effort, you do too.

“This is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,” Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, you’d voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? She’s not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.

The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.

“Oh- oh my!” her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight, it’s a pleasure to see you!”

It… it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.

“Oh, look it’s Gerald! I’m sorry my dear I really have to-”

And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesn’t find anyone.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say.

“I said I’d quit, remember?” she replies. You think she’s lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of ‘The Wicked Witch of the West’ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.

You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, they’re all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.

You are so out of your depth.

You turn back around to Jeanine.

“I really, really don’t want to be here,” you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.

“Please stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,” she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.

“Alright. But only for thirty. And I’m getting very, very drunk.”

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be right beside you the entire time-”

You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels you’re wearing don’t make it any damn well easier. Still, you don’t stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.

Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You don’t know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesn’t look red yet, but it honestly it’s getting kind of annoying.

You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume that’s what stalking personal assistants are for and… she’s not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.

You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, it’s time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. It’s what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.

You stumble your way to a wall where there’s a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like you’re trying to soothe a scared animal.

You point at the tray, “I want that.”

He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like he’d be used to something like this. It wasn’t like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasn’t obvious, you really didn’t know anything about what rich people did.

“It’s my birthday. It’s totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,” You bald-faced lie, like you’d ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.

You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once you’ve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like it’s a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, they’d probably seen you corner that poor server boy.

Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally weren’t expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.

Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasn’t any different from how you behaved at Molly’s college parties.

So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of it’s delicious, but when you try things you can’t quite recognise, there’s a twenty-percent chance it’ll be disgusting and you’ll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. You’re careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. You’d heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didn’t mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.

You look down at your hand. It’s another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didn’t touch it and you didn’t have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.

Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probably…

The question was, was it worth it? You’re debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think it’s a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide you’ve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.

It’s after a moment that you realise he’s not taking anything.

“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadn’t been clinging to the table cloth you’d have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.

It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.

First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished you’d stop dropping things.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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petew21-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Revenge possession

Devon was your normal college guy, who also had a god like body on the other hand. His life wasn't very special in many ways. He had two brothers and one sister. All born in USA, moving the states a lot. All had an unproblematic childhood. Everytime a problem occured it would be solved by itself almost immediately or the parents would take care of it. Speaking of the parents I have to mention one tiny detail.

Their parents. How to put this? Their parents were a lovely pair, highschool sweethearts, very good looking. The only downside was that they were serial killers.

And that brings the story to me. Hey, I'm Jake and I was hitchhiking in California back then when Devon's seemingly fine parents picked me and then brutally murdered me in the forest. Kinda dark right? Yeah. I was a 21 year old guy with my life ahead of me and they ended in a few minutes just to have some thrilling disgusting moment in their life.

My ghost has been roaming the world for another 20 years. I was trying to find the family to have my revenge. But everytime I got close they moved their family to another state. That also included the problems the family didn't have. The parents would always eliminate the one who caused the problems.

But now I found them. Or atleast their children. Even though I had 20 years to plan my revenge, but I couldn't plan much. I was going through the house. The parents were on a holiday if I understood correctly. So I had time to find out a bit more about their life

I was exploring the house when I found Devon here, playing videogames in his room. He was playing just in his shorts. His shirtless body showed his tense muscles as he was getting really into the game

This could be it. I don't have to possess the parents. I could have my revenge from his body. And it would be kind of poetic justice. My life ended when I was 21, if I possess their sons body and take away his life it would be a perfect revenge. Of course, I would still have to interrupt the killing of the parents.

Now or never. Revenge awaits

I sunk into him. His controller fell on the ground, the inactivity making him loose. He was really tough. Maybe I should have practiced the possession on someone weaker, but I couldn't risk that I would stay in that body and couldn't get my revenge.

We fought for an hour. His body contorting on the couch, sweat dripping from everywhere. His socks wet. Fuck yeah! I can feel His feet already. I moved them. They were mine! This little moment of win gave me enough power to push and place Devon in the back of his mind. I could still hear him. He was begging me to stop. Begging to let go. But no. This is my body now.

"I... I am Devon" I said with a mischievous smile. I looked down at the sweaty body. My enormous arms searched the trail of sweat. I flexed them. I could feel how tired Devon got from the possession. Hell, I was tired.

But I had much to do. Revenge couldn't wait. Then my eyes trailed the abs I now possessed. "Maybe revenge can wait"

My new hand got very close to my waitsband. I lifted it up to find a beautiful uncut 8inch dick

"Daaamn son, you're packing"

I got hard and wanted to jerk off right there. This beautiful thing can't be left unattended. But I got really thirsty. The fight left Devon's body in a horrible state.

I went to the kitchen. The only cold thing I found was a can of beer. I chugged it instantly, my new mouth still not used to me didn't respond very well, so most of the liquid poured over my chest right down the trail of my abs.

"Time for shower"

As I was standing in the shower I was in awe and glee. So many years of wondering where my killers were. Years of being a ghost and not enjoying life. Now I have this amazing gift of a body.

As the shower sprayed water over my muscles I jerked off my hard monster with both hands. Furiously and pressing it hard. I hoped that no one else was home today, cause I was screaming in pleasure. So many years without orgasms. I felt Devon in the back of my mind trying to resist it. He felt the pleasure too. But didn't want to let go of the rest of the control he had.

"Don't worry Devon. I'll take care of your body. I don't wanna hurt you. I just wanna hurt your parents"

My big balls had to work overtime. I jerked off three times at that shower. Almost no hot water left for anyone else to shower, but I didn't care. I stepped out, not even cleaning the cum on the glass and the floor of the shower

I approached the mirror and with my hand scraped a hit of the fog on the mirror to observe myself.

Damn what a fine specimen I am right now. This is gonna be so amazing

"I can help you" echoed in the back of my mind

"Help with what?" I answered

Devon:"I can help you pass as me more easily to fool my parents so that you can get revenge on them. While you were jerking off I saw your memories. And I also know what my parents do. Or atleast I suspected it for a long time. Now I have proof"

Me:"So I am to believe that you'll just let me be in your body willingly and help me get your parents? How can I trust you that you won't warn them?"

Devon:"You can't. But I can offer you my body. We can share it. I always felt alone in my life and sharing a body with a likeminded person isn't such a bad destiny for myself. I really enjoyed the shower session. And if you give me a tiny bit o lf control I can show you something that you haven't done in your body back then"

I hesitated. All this time it was only about revenge. I never thought about what would happen after. Now I had an amazing body and I could do the right thing. If I would just possess him entirely I wouldn't be better than his parents. I would take his life from him just like they did with me. The co-piloting thing wasn't a bad idea. But what if he rats me out to them?

Me:"Ok, I'm in. I don't want to hurt you kid. But I can't let your parents hurt any more young guys like me. If they are on a killimg spree again we have to stop them"

Devon:"I agree. But they are coming back in a few days and until then, I can show you what you were missing"

I gave him control. He didn't fight, which was a good sign. And now he went back to his room, opening a drawer. It contained sk many sex toys I never even had a chance to know and feel

Devon:"Revenge can wait. It's time to have some fun"

#body possession #Possession male #male possession #revenge #Possession revenge

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dacreshoney · 9 months ago

Text

AUSTIN BUTLER X FEMALE READER

just a little bit obsessed with this man…. so I needed to make a fic, been sooo long but wanting to get back into it and seeing all these fanfics at the moment just got me in such a frenzy😂

Really hope you enjoy this:)

austinbutlersFansforever

liked by AustinBfans, y/nfan4 and 77,063 others

did everyone see the chemistry y/n and Austin butler had at the Dune conference this weekend, I ship this 😻

view all 65,022 comments

y/nfan4 how good do they look together!!! I stan them

butlerfans4life haven’t her and dacre split, it after they filmed elvis together??

y/nupdates yeah she confirmed they had both split but on good terms, you can totally see the chemistry between these two though 😻

—————————————————————

butlterfanupdates

liked by y/nfans, butlernews, E!news,yourusername and 67,988 others

E!news release new BTS vanity fair photos of Y/n and Austin butler, more rumours are flying about about the co stars! Do we think this is the look of love? I certainly do 😻

view all 67,922 comments

butlernews just look at them both, I can’t

y/nfans22 she just looks so happy, she really deserves someone who will cherish her, dacre certainly hasn’t, rumours he cheated on her🧐

Y/nfanXxfreya don’t y/n confirm that her and dacre are on good terms though?

ausfan12 just look at aus’s smile,looks like she really brings that cheeky grin out he’s been missing x

hater24 she really does live on quick doesn’t she???? 🙄

y/nshipper these haters^😂 BUT DID ANYONE NOTICE Y/N HAS LIKED THIS POST

aus22 OMGGG

yourusername

Liked by zendaya,kaiagruber,Austinbutler and 677,098 others

Austin got a little peckish during todays shoot

view all 500,062 comments

Ynfans234 SHITTTT this is hot

Aussy224 OBSESSED WITH YOUT BOTH I CANT

Austinbutler you just smell and taste so good x

Zendaya replied: austin man😂

Austibutler replied: too much?…🤔

austinbutlernews HOLY FUCK^ Austin with the kinky comments 😩

y/nlife25 I think I’m going to pass out…

——————————————————-

E!news

Liked by yourusername, austinbutler, bazlurmhan,dacremontgomery and 799,000 others

It’s official, the couple we’ve all been waiting for y/n and Austin butler have confirmed they are an item and tonight’s golden globes, with Austin picking up his award he dedicated his speech to the wonderful y/n. His direct words were:

“ there are so many people i wanna thank tonight, Lisa Marie, Priscilla, I love you and thank you so much for letting me portray the most important man in your lives,I also want to thank my family,my mom who I know is smiling down at me always but The most special to me, my love y/n, I am I love with you, your support throughout this entire journey is something I will try reciprocate the rest of our lives. Your dedication and love is what has got me through, our journeys were meant to cross and I couldn’t imagine doing this life without you by my side, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the love you give me, so this is for you”

We truly are so happy for the new couple. view all 623,000 comments

Y/NFan23 FINALLY, anyone noticed dacre has liked this post? Jealousyyy

austinbutler my love 💞 @yourusername

yourusername replied: always x

Zendaya thank god the cats out the bag, love you guys

Ashleytisdale waiting for the wedding, in awe of you both 💍🩵

Austinbutler replied: I definitely won’t be keeping her waiting💍…

Austinfans4life was this a dig at dacre^ shots fired 😂

#austin butler au #austin butler x oc #austin butler fanfiction #austin x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #feyd rautha x reader #Fake ig

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maddyjones2 · 4 months ago

Text

On not idolising creative people

In the wake of the various recent allegations involving Neil Gaiman, people have been both very sad that someone who they looked up to as an inspiration has, allegedly, turned out to be something less than entirely admirable, and are now looking to see who is now left that they can rotate into the spot of “the good dude,” i.e., that one successful creative guy who they think or at least hope isn’t hiding a cellar full of awful actions. One name I see brought up is mine, in ways ranging from “Well, at least we still have Scalzi,” to “Oh, God, please don’t let Scalzi be a fucking creep too.” Which, uhhhh, yeah? Thanks?

I have many thoughts about this and I’m going to try to make sense of them here, as much for myself as anyone else, so this may be messy and discursive and long (seriously, 3600 words, y’all), but, well, welcome to me. So, ordered by how these things come out of my head:

1. Stop Idolizing Creative People. Creative people are easy to idolize because they create the art you love, and that gives you permission to feel things, and to see yourself and your desires reflected in that art. That is a powerful thing, and from the outside, it can feel like magic, and that the people who do it are tapped into something otherworldly and admirable. Plus, they often get to have cool lives and get to know other cool creative people. They do things that are removed from the day-to-day aspect of a “normal” life, and they’ll even post about them on social media where you can see them. Sometimes, independent of their art directly, they’ll speak about their life, or life in general, and they’ll seem wise and considered and kind. I mean, what’s not to like?

But please consider that this is all an extremely mediated experience of this person. The art is the edited and massaged result of hours and days and weeks and months of work, into which the work of many others is also added. My novels originate from me, but it’s not just me in there, nor is the final form of the novel an accurate statement of who I am as a person, not least of all for the simple reason that I am not trying to tell my story in my novels. I’m creating fictional characters, and the world in which they make sense, for the purpose of the story.

Despite how it might look from the outside, this is not sorcery. It’s years of experience at a craft. It’s not magic, just work. A completed novel (or any other piece of art) won’t tell you much about the specific, day-to-day life and inclinations of the individual who made it, other than a general nod toward their competence, and the competence of their collaborators. Likewise what you see of their lives, even from the illusorily close vantage of social media, is deeply mediated. Lives always look admirable at a distance, when you can only see the lofty peaks and not the rubble at the base — especially when your attention by design is pointed at those lofty peaks. There’s much you don’t see and that you’re not meant to see. The vast majority of what you’re not meant to see isn’t nefarious. It’s just not your business.

Now, before I was a professional creative person, I was an entertainment journalist who spent years interviewing writers, directors, movie stars, musicians, authors and other creative folks. Since I’ve been on the other side of the rope, I’ve likewise met a huge range of creative people from all walks of life. Please believe me when I assure you that creative people are just people. Richer and/or more famous? Sometimes (less often than you might think, though). Prettier and/or more charismatic? Especially if they’re actors or pop stars, often yes! But at the end of the day they are just folks, and they run the whole range of how people are. By and large, the day-to-day experience of getting through their life is the same as yours. Outside of their own specific field of work, they don’t know any more about life, have no more facility for dealing with the world, and have just as few clues about what’s going on in their own head, as anyone else.

They’re just people. Whose work is making the stuff you like! And that’s great, but that’s not a substantive basis for idolizing them. It makes no more sense to idolize them than to idolize a baker who makes cookies you like, or the guy who comes and trims your hedges the way you want them to be trimmed, or the plumber who fixes your clogged drain. You can appreciate what they do, and even admire they skill they have. But holding them up as a life model might be a bit much. Which is the point! If you’re not willing to idolize a plumber, then you shouldn’t idolize a creative person.

(“But a plumber doesn’t make me feel like a creative person does,” you say, to which I say, are you sure about that? Because I will tell you what, when my sump pump stopped working and the plumber got in there, replaced the pump and started draining out my basement which had an inch of standing water in it, that man was the focus of all my emotions and was my goddamned hero that day. My plumber that day did more for me than easily 90% of the great art I’ve ever experienced.)

Enjoy the art creative people do. Enjoy the experience of them in the mediated version of them you get online and elsewhere, if such is your joy. But remember that the art is from the artist, not the artist themselves, and the version of their life you see is usually just the version they choose to show. There is so much you don’t see, and so much you’re not meant to see. At the end of the day, you don’t have all the information about who they are that you would need to make them your idol, or someone you might choose to, in some significant way, pattern some fraction of your life on. And anyway creative people aren’t any better at life than anyone else.

Which brings up the next point:

2. Fuck idols anyway! People are complicated and contradictory and you don’t know everything about them! You don’t know everything even about your parents or siblings or best friends or your partner! People are hypocrites and liars and fail to live up to their own standards for themselves, much less yours! Your version of them in your head will always be different than the version that actually exists in the world! Because you’re not them! Stop pretending people won’t be fuck ups! They will! Always!

This sounds more pessimistic about humans than perhaps it should be. When I say, for example, that people are hypocrites and liars, I don’t mean that people take every single opportunity to be hypocrites and liars. Most people are decent in the moment. But none of us — not one! — has always lived up to our own standard of behavior, and all of us have had the moment where, when confronted with a situation that would become an immense pain in the ass if we stuck to our guns, or demanded the inconvenient truth, decided to just bail instead, because the situation wasn’t worth the drama, or we had somewhere else to be, or whatever. We all choose battles and we all make the call in the moment, and sometimes the call is, fuck this, I’m out.

Every person you’ve ever admired has fucked up, sometimes really badly. Everyone you’ve ever looked up to has secrets, and it’s possible some of those secrets would materially change how you think about them, not always for the better. Everyone you’ve ever known has things about them you don’t know, many of which aren’t even secrets, they’re just things you don’t engage with in your day-to-day experience of them. Nevertheless it’s possible if you were aware of them, it would change how you feel about them, for better or for worse. And now let’s flip that around! You have things about you that even your best friends don’t know, and might be surprised to learn! You have secrets you don’t wish to share with the class! You have fucked up, and lied, and have been a hypocrite too!

You are, in short, a human, as is everyone you know and every one you will know (pets and gregarious wild animals excepted). And all humans are, charitably, a mess. This doesn’t mean there aren’t good people or even exemplary people out there, since there are, along with the ones that are, charitably, a real shit show. What I am saying is that even the good or exemplary people out there are a mess, have been morally compromised at some point in their lives, and have not lived up to their own standards for themselves, independent of anyone else’s standard for them.

One of the aspects of being an “idol,” I think, is that higher standard that other people expect of you — that in every situation where the aspect they idolize you for is in play, you will act in a manner that is right and correct by their standard, which of course you will likely not know about because you don’t actually know them (or often know that they exist). This is, by definition, an impossible standard to be held to — you didn’t agree to it, or to engage with it — and an impossible standard to hold other people to without their direct consultation. Every human made to be an idol is destined to fail at the job. You don’t even have to have feet of clay! You just didn’t know you were on a pedestal to begin with.

(This does not excuse shitty action. The fact people should not be idols in the first place is not exculpatory for the choices one makes on one’s own. If you’re sexually assaulting people, or being a racist or sexist or homophobe or other flavor of bigot, or using your situational power coercively (as just a few examples), then hell yes you are going to be called out on it. And to be clear, it is not unreasonable, to put it mildly, to expect people not to sexually assault other people, or not to denigrate other humans for being who they are, etc. But this only adds to the point about idols, now, doesn’t it. You don’t know what you don’t see, and you don’t know what you’re not seeing, until it is hauled out into the light one way or the other. If it is hauled out into the light at all.)

I don’t think anyone should idolize anyone, ever. It’s not great for them, and it’s not great for you, they probably didn’t ask to be idolized (and if they did, holy shit, fucking run), and in the end unless you’re so completely wrapped up in their lives that they have no secrets from you — which is never — you don’t know enough to make that call. People do it anyway, and then disappointment happens, but they shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Stop idolizing people. It’s not fair for anyone.

What to do instead? Enjoy their work, if they’re a creative person. Appreciate the kind and good aspects of their life that you can see, and the decent actions they undertake in public, with the knowledge that what you see of them is a mediated and elided version. Understand that we all have a different version of ourself for every person we meet, and that every person we meet has a different vision of ourselves in their head, and very often, those two versions are not the same. Like them, based on what you know of them! Love them, if it comes to that. And when and if you learn something new about them that you didn’t know before, let empathy guide you to a new understanding of them and what they mean to you.

And now, taking all of the above into consideration:

3. Absolutely 100% do not idolize me. I don’t deserve to be idolized because no one deserves to be idolized, but also, holy fuck, I do know me and I’m a mess. There have been lots of things in my life that I’ve done that have not been admirable or kind. I can be petty and shitty and competitive and cruel. I am lazy and inattentive and when I let things slide (which is often), I end up jammed up on my responsibilities, which makes me irritable and no fun to be around. I have a temper which goes from zero to sixty almost instantaneously; if I’m not actively paying attention to it, I can become a sudden, unreasonable rage monster, which is a burden to people I love, and I hate that fact about myself (pro tip: don’t travel with me, the rage monster comes out a lot then).

I can be controlling and demanding but I want other people to handle the details, i.e., executive asshole. I am strategic in a way that can be bloodless. When I’m insecure I brag a lot, which is unflattering. If you cross me, I won’t go out of my way to make your life miserable (that would require effort on my part), but I will absolutely enjoy when you take a literal or metaphorical tumble down the stairs. God knows I’ve enjoyed the failures of the people who have spoken ill of me, almost as much as I’ve enjoyed the fuming, spittling rage they’ve felt when I’ve succeeded. I spent years cultivating a snarky persona online and while that was fun (for me), I’m increasingly aware that when the tally is added up for Who Ruined the Internet, I’m not necessarily going to be where I want to be on that particular ledger.

And these are only the bad qualities of mine I wish to admit to you at the moment. There are others, I assure you.

So, yes: Who wants to idolize me now?

“But you seemed so nice when I chatted with you online/met you at the convention/saw you at that one place that one time.” Well, thank you, I’ve been in the public eye in one manner or another for three and a half decades now and I understand my assignment; my public persona is friendly and engaging and sociable and mostly fun to be with. It’s not a fake version of me — I am all those things! Honest! — but, again, it’s a mediated version of me designed not only to be a positive experience for the people who meet me but also to get my actually introverted ass through a whole day of events at a convention/festival/book tour/whatever. When I’m done I collapse into an introverted hole. When I came back from Worldcon this week, I slept for 15 hours the first day I was home. It wasn’t just because of jet lag or con crud.

I rather famously call my public face “performance monkey mode,” and likewise what I say about my (current) online mode is that I’m cosplaying as a better version of myself, one that is kinder than I used to be online, and more patient than I am in the real world. If you meet me when I am “off” then you will find that, again, these versions of me are me, just with some things dialed up and other things dialed down. But even that is still a different version of me than, say, the version of me which is at home (which is in fact extremely boring; that version of me doesn’t talk much and mostly stays in my office).

Many of you who have followed me over the years are familiar with me saying things like this, of course, and are likewise familiar with me pointing out that there are a number of things about my life that I don’t mention in public, for whatever reasons I choose. But it’s also true that I’ve been actively online for 30+ years now, and people feel reasonably confident that they have a good bead on me and that there’s not much about me that will surprise them or change their understanding of me. So to bring home the point there are indeed things you don’t know, allow me to surface just one previously unaired fun fact:

I have a concealed carry license.

(Or did; it expired this year and I didn’t renew it, because Ohio changed its laws so that you no longer need a permit to conceal carry in the state. These days in Ohio you can just wander about with a handgun stuffed down your trousers without training or licensing because that’s a real good idea, now, isn’t it. Nevertheless, the license is not necessary anymore so there was not much point in renewing it, although if the law had not changed, I probably would have renewed.)

Why did I have a concealed carry license? Well, ultimately that’s not important. The point is I had one. I didn’t talk about it before because, among other things, the point of a concealed carry license (to me, anyway) is that its existence is not meant to be known by anyone other than that great state of Ohio itself. I am aware, and this is a dramatic understatement, that I am not a person most people would expect to have had such a thing. That the fact I had one will cause a number of people to reconsider what they know about me, for better or for worse. Which is also my point. All y’all have just learned this thing about me! Think about all the other things you don’t know!

Oh, God, this is where Scalzi starts admitting to terrible, terrible things. No. I feel pretty confident I live a tolerably ethical life. Part of the reason for this is that I have what I think is a decent operating principle, which is: If I’m thinking of doing something, and Krissy called me right then and asked “what are you doing?” and I would be tempted to lie to her about it, then I don’t do that thing. Because Krissy is the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to lie to her about what I’m doing (I have lied to her exactly once. She knew instantly. I haven’t bothered lying to her since). This is not replacing Krissy’s ethics with my own; it’s me knowing whether by my own ethics, I would be ashamed to tell to her what I am up to. It works very well. As such, the Krissy Test is an operating principle I highly suggest to others, although I’d suggest replacing Krissy with whomever your life is most important to you.

Be that as it may, my ethics are not universal and some others might not find them sufficient, for whatever reason. I am well aware I still disappoint many people, and that there are people who find my life choices, known positions or public statements (or lack of them, as the case may be) problematic, or who simply wish I would be other than what I am. I can’t help them with this, but again, this is the point. Given the fact that I am a fallible human who has an entire stratum of his life not visible to the world — and the strata of his life that are visible cause significant numbers of people to be irritated and exasperated — is it not better just to not hold me up as an ideal person, or the “good dude,” much less an idol of any sort?

I mean, shit. What Would John Scalzi Do? Solidly half the time, I have no fucking idea. I have to think about it, whatever it is. I have to think about whether I know enough to do or say something about it. I have to decide whether it’s something I want to engage with at all, and whether my engagement with it is something that would be of value to anyone, me included. I have to decide whether engaging with it is worth the shit I will get for it. And then I have to figure out what it means that I am engaging with it, since like it or not I’m a Dude of Reasonable Significance in My Field. I try to be a decent human, when people are looking at me and especially when they are not. But I also know me, and all my flaws and weaknesses and compromises.

What Would John Scalzi Do? The best he can, in the moment. Is that sufficient? For me, yes, most of the time. Is that sufficient for you? That’s up to you.

The point to this all is that people are just a big fucking mess, including the ones you might for whatever reason find admirable. I am no different than anyone else, and you should not be under the illusion that I am anything other than a shambling collection of flaws embedded inside a human form, which also, in its defense, has some pretty excellent qualities as well. We’re all this way! You too!

And while I want you to like my work, and to enjoy the version of me that you see here and elsewhere, don’t put me, or any other person, on a pedestal. Pedestals are wobbly and and don’t give actual humans a lot of room to move. We will inevitably fall off. Keep us with our feet on the ground. That way, when we stumble, there’s a chance we can get back up, and keep going.

— JS

#good omens #david tennant #michael sheen #neil gaiman allegations

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dotster001 · 1 year ago

Text

For Tuna; Duel End

You can vote for the next ending here

Chapters One Two Three Choose a different ending

“I've had it! They're all worthless!” Grim shouted as he stormed into Ramshackle.

You looked up warily from the book you were reading on the sofa.

“Who's worthless, Grim?”

“They are!” He screeched, throwing some folders on the ground. You sighed at the mess you would no doubt have to clean up.

“Well, why are they worthless?” You moved to start cleaning up the folders, and he hissed at you. You retracted your hand.

He stared for a moment, before looking off into the distance.

“I, uh, have to do a partner project, for extra credit. And I'd narrowed it down to who I thought I should pick, but all of them are stupid head poopy butts.”

“That's rough, Grimmy,” you sighed, noticing one of the folders had a familiar name. You raised a brow. “How is Silver a stupid head poopy butt?”

Grim scowled.

“He just is. Don't ask too many questions!” he sighed sadly. “I don't know what to do,Y/N, everyone I thought was perfect for this project is awful. I feel like I'm starting over!”

“Well, can I be your partner?”

“That would defeat the entire purpose,” he pouted.

Ah, probably an assignment that was meant to build his independence from you.

“Deuce always needs extra-”

“Blech!”

Not Deuce then. Got it.

“Well, what if you make a list of all the possible people who aren't, what was it?”

“Stupid head poopy butts.”

“Right. Then you can pick one randomly. If that one turns out to be a…well you know, you can pick a different one. And then if no one is good, please just go to Deuce. For the love of God, your grades reflect on me as well!”

“Go to Deuce?” He spat. “You have no idea what you ask of me, human! But still….your idea of picking randomly is not bad! Perhaps I have been putting too much thought into something that requires no thought at all!”

You highly doubted that.

But he seemed happy again, putting together a list of seemingly unrelated names. You noted he wrote down your lab partner Alano’s name, before snickering and crossing it out.

Once he had all the names written down, he pulled a name out of a hat.

“Sebek?” You asked. “He's smart. He has a lot of life experience too. I bet he'd be a great fit.”

“Yeah, and his dad's a dentist,” Grim said with a worrying smile.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to sound excited for him, despite your confusion. “If you want, I can walk you over there. I need to give him back the notes I borrowed, anyway.”

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Grim frowned.

“Okay, I can ask Mal Mal to bring the notes then-”

“I've changed my mind. Come with me.”

….

When Sebek wasn't in class, he was in the Diasomnia courtyard, dueling the training dummy. It was worse for wear; chunks of it were missing, and the parts still together had deep scars.

Never had he felt such painful turmoil in his life. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw you on someone's arm, be it Malleus, Lilia, Silver, Leona, or any of the numerous people Grim had chosen, then fired, within the past week.

Fired. They wouldn't be with you. But still.

He was snapped out of his heated fighting with the clang of metal against his sword. He blinked back to awareness, and processed Silver standing before him, sword in hand, body in an offensive position.

“You need to snap out of it,” Silver said. Sebek snarled, and swung at Silver, and was deflected easily.

“Do you think you're good for anyone right now?” Silver asked, and Sebek swung again, blind rage building up in him.

What the hell did Silver know about him? Who did he think he is?

“Father and Lord Malleus are both worried about you. Is that any way for a knight to act?”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH, HUMAN!”

Swords clanged against each other, one knight at peace, the other bursting with rage.

“If there's something you want, go get it!”

“You don't know anything about me!”

“I know the face you made when Grim told you he chose me, and the relief in your eyes when he changed his mind.”

“SHUT UP!”

Clang. Clang. Silver landed a hit with the flat of his blade, making Sebek fall back. His anger, if even possible, rose to new levels. He ran at Silver, sword swinging, only for Silver to side step and make Sebek trip.

“Y/N is a wonderful creature. You would be good together!”

“Ah!”

Clang.

“They bring out a gentler side to you that makes you a well rounded knight.”

Clang.

“But you have to admit what you want, Sebek!”

Clang. Clang. Clang.

“What do you want!”

“I want Y/N!” Sebek shouted, finally disarming Silver, and knocking his feet out from under him.

He breathed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow as he stared down at his defeated senior. Silver, as always, was smiling peacefully. A little too peacefully. He pointed over Sebek 's shoulder, and he turned to look. He felt immediate horror as he saw you standing with your cat creature.

You shyly waved at him, and Sebek felt his face grow bright red.

“I, uh, came to give you back your notes,” you said with a bashful smile.

“Oh.”

“And Grim wanted to ask you if-”

“It can wait, henchhuman! You two obviously have some things to talk about. Come Silver!” Grim turned on his heel to go, then turned back to Silver with a horrific glare.

“I said, let's go. You've clearly lost.”

Silver laughed happily.

“I'm not sure I did lose, Grim.” He stood up, gently clapped Sebek 's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper “good luck.” He hummed happily as he followed Grim into the Diasomnia castle.

Sebek stared pointedly at the ground, neither of you ready to break the silence.

After a bit, “You want me, huh?” Followed by a soft giggle.

“Who wouldn't want you? You're an excellent human,” he muttered.

“You're very sweet, Sebek.”

He looked up in shock, as you smiled at him. You weren't…rejecting his advances? And Grim wasn't stopping him? Had the world come to an end, and this was just a blissful dream in his last moments? No, Malleus would be in the dream too.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted as his ringtone played the Valley of Thorns national anthem. He apologized quickly and picked up, expecting Master Lilia or his royal highness.

Instead he was greeted by the voice of your cat.

“I'm giving you a chance, crocodile boy. You know what that means right?”

Sebek grunted in affirmative, turning away so you wouldn't see his face.

“There had better be three cases of luxury tuna on Ramshackle’s doorstep tomorrow morning, or you can kiss Y/N goodbye.”

He almost completely derailed himself by imagining kissing you, in any capacity.

“Understood,” he grunted. There would be no tuna. He didn't need Grim's manipulations to hold your love. But he didn't want to deal with the argument, not when he was seconds away from getting the one he longed for.

“Good.” Grim hung up, and Sebek turned back to you.

“Malleus was just…it doesn't matter,” he ran up to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in your shoulder. He held back the slight tremble his body wanted to give at finally having you in his arms. You wiggled a little bit, and he tightened the hold, not ready to let you out of his grasp yet. He was so unbelievably happy.

“Sebek, you're all sweaty!” You whined.

He pouted, taking a step back and placing a hand on your head.

“I am a knight, human. I train day and night to protect the ones I love. You're going to have to get used to the sweat of hard work!” He proclaimed proudly, before grinning. “After all, part of why I'll be training is so that I can be worthy of you.”

You gave a mock sigh, then opened your arms to him. He didn't hesitate to embrace you once again, tightly holding onto you, and the memory of this day, both of which he intended to hold onto forever.

The End

Tag list- @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @savanaclaw1996 @kazumify @fatally-incorrect @glo0b @alleykat2014 (I combined your idea with a second idea I had 😁)

#for tuna #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt

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henry7931 · 6 months ago

Text

The Brat Who Mowed My Lawn

Harold:

You know this kid is a real piece of work! But now that I have his body that’s all gonna change.

Chase has mowed my lawn for a couple of years now and I should have fired him for his poor attitude awhile ago.

The only is that he’s only one around I know who will do it well. Being an old man, it’s hard to get around but my ears and eyes still work!

Well I guess that’s a problem of the past for me and more of a problem for Chase.

All I do is catch that boy up to know good. And I knew for a fact he was going to be just as much of a bully and an a hole in college as we was for the last 18 years of his life.

What really upset me was how mean he would be to that sweet gay kid next door Joseph. That kid didn’t do anything to him!

Well I got a surprise for Chase when he wakes up from my nap, not only is now old, going to have trouble moving around but he’s going to hear about his body coming out as a proud gay man!

You know this is the last thing I’m going to do for him which is a free mow of his new lawn haha!

Now I better get back to my new home before he wakes up.

10 minutes later:

“Wooowee!! These piggies right here stink!”

But look how sexy my new young toes look! Let me get a good ole sniff…

*sniff*

Boy that makes my new pecker harder than a pool!

I take a little peak at my growing boner and it’s a pretty good size.

I walk over to my window to see if he’s gotten up yet but that’s when I spot that sweet gay boy walking.

I crack open the window and say, “Joseph!! Hey hold up a minute, I wanna talk to you!”

He looks nervous and I say, “I promise, it’s nothing bad. Just give me 2 minutes.”

I run downstairs and meet him at my door.

He looks at me shyly and I say, “hey I owe you an apology.”

“Really?”

“Yeah I’ve been awful to you and— it’s because I haven’t been honest with myself. I just see you out here being so you and truthful… I guess what I’m trying to say is…. I’m gay too.”

He looks shocked hearing the words come out of my mouth.

“It’s okay Chase, I uhhh I’m kinda surprised but thank you for the apology.”

“Well how I’ve been was not acceptable at all and I would love to make it up to you.”

“Yeah?”

I scoot closer to him, “I think you’re awfully cute and uh… what are you doing right now?”

I was gonna ask him on a date but my bodies hormones are losing control right now.

“Nothing really.”

“Well you wanna hang out?”

1 hour later:

So Joseph and I made out for a bit which kinda led us to heavy pettin’

And well I may have let him explore my new body. And we’re pretty compatible, we both like smelly pits, dirty feet, he even let me play with his cute toes too.

But the best part was the foot job he gave me. It felt amazing on my new pecker. He even let me lick all the cum off his toes.

Now he wants to come back tonight for a “sleepover.” Good thing is that my new parents won’t mind, that it matters I’m a grown adult at my age.

Oh wait I’m getting a FaceTime, oh look who it is! It’s the old sleepy grandpa.

“Hello Mr. Harold, how did you like your yard?”

“SHUT UP OLD MAN! AND GIVE ME BACK MY BODY!”

“Oh no, is everything okay over there? You don’t sound well. Should I call someone?”

“Don’t play stupid! You need to give me back my body or—“

“Or what exactly? You’re going to beat me up? Tell someone? Listen, I don’t think anyone had ever taught you a lesson so I’ll make this easy for you.”

*click*

Poor old man, sounds like he’s going through a lot. Oh well!

*A Few Months Later*

“Ugh are you going to tease me with this clothes on or are you gonna join me?” says Joseph my currently naked boyfriend standing with an erection in front of me.

“Well let me start out with my socks, I know you love my feet after a long day.”

“God you I do love your feet but I especially love that nice cock of yours.”

Joseph impatiently hops into the recliner with me and I embrace his body wrapping my hands and with his cock.

“So glad your parents are out of town, I can’t wait until we’re ‘college roommates’ next week.”

“I know then we can do this every night,” I say pinching his ass.

Joesph or Joey as I like to call him makes a yelping noise,

“Oh my god, I forgot to ask you. Did you hear about our old neighbor next door?”

“Oh yeah, poor old guy. Well you wanna take this upstairs because I’m horny as f*ck now.”

“Please! And you better fuck me tonight Chase, I’m not giving you a foot job again.”

“But!!! But you’re so good at them baby and your feet are so sexy!”

“Nope I want you rail me.”

“Fine!”

#body swap #male body swap #male tf #body theft #old to young

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11queensupreme11 · 7 days ago

Note

What would it be like if the Gods, adults not children, know all this about Percy being from another universe and everything he's going to have to go through and somehow they end up meeting a 12-year-old Percy? I'm talking about a Percy before the field trip to the museum with Mrs. Dotts, which is to say when he didn't know anything about the Gods.

this whole thing just reminds me of this final fantasy 7 ao3 fanfic where everyone got sent back to the past AND remembered what happened... EXCEPT CLOUD and they were all frantically planning on a way to train this poor kid on how to save the world in case sephiroth goes insane again while simultaneously not telling him cuz they didn't want him to remember all his trauma 😭😭😭

(also if anyone knows which fic this, PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK CUZ I FORGOT THE TITLE AND AUTHOR AND I WANNA READ IT AGAIN!!!!)

anyway, if they got isekai-ed to percy's universe in the past AND THEY KNOW what's gonna happen to her, they are absolutely gonna scramble for a way to get back to their universe with percy in order to prevent The Plot from happening 😭😭😭😭

like "hell fucking no my baby is NOT going through any of that!!!!" 😭😭😭😭

i can't even blame them cuz imagine finding this tiny lil 12 year old girl, the de-aged version of someone you love so very much, and KNOWING she's about to go through some traumatizing shit soon and you have the chance to save her from that? they're gonna do whatever it takes to save her from that awful fate!!

poseidon is straight up kidnapping her, getting a child leash, and tethering her to him while he frantically tries to find a way to access the bifrost and send them back home, meanwhile he's got a feral 12 year old trying to gnaw through the leash 💀

hades definitely feels bad for kidnapping her from her poor mother, BUT IT'S FOR PERCY'S OWN GOOD, HE SWEARS!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 he's absolutely not gonna go to any of the gods for help because he's seen their buffoonery and wants no part of it, so it's up to him to find a way back home!!

beelzebub's not gonna bother with a child leash, after he kidnaps her he's whipping out the cuffs again cuz those have a shorter chain AND she can't gnaw them off 💀 probably gives up on the handcuffs tho when she somehow manages to break them and ends up just lugging her around like this:

apollo's gonna be such a nervous wreck. he does NOT want to kidnap her, he would prefer it if she just comes with him willingly but it comes off SO sus like "hi there little girl! do you want some candy? i'm trying to save ur life pls trust me" and percy may be 12 but she's not STUPID, so she goes "stranger danger" and runs away and now he has no choice but to kidnap her while he tries to find a way back 😭

loki's more subtle at first. he'll kill of mrs. dodds, chiron, and grover and shapeshift to become percy's new math teacher to replace dodds. he knows he still has some time before The Plot hits, so he's not TOO panicked rn and when he's not pretending to be a math teacher, he spends his time snooping around asgard to try and figure out how their bifrost works to send them both home. killing those three ^ eliminates the whole field trip issue, but you know, Fates 💀 ofc they find a way to make The Plot keep going so yeah, loki snaps and kidnaps her to keep her safe

i promise you, ten minutes into anubis' arrival in the pjo verse, the news article "freakishly tall furry man kidnaps child from yancy academy -- local furry community claims no ties to the kidnapper" is gonna spread around like wildfire 💀 he is absolutely gonna kidnap her is probably gonna spend most of the time freaking the fuck out instead of actually trying to find a way back home

cú chulainn's got it a little harder. yes he can easily kidnap her, but he's not a god. he's been blessed with his adoptive father's abilities, but he can't like... teleport, be in multiple places at once, easily search the universe in case percy runs away, etc. so he tries to be more discreet about it like loki by killing off mrs dodds and any monsters that come percy's way. he'll try to find a way to the bifrost too, but it'll be more difficult for obvious reasons. it's once The Plot hits does he finally say fuck it and just joins her to keep her close while trying to find a way to access the norse pantheon

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

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bigfan-fanfic · 1 month ago

Text

Tradition and Ritual (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request a full fic where Dean does the classic asking his bf's very approving dad for permission before popping the question? Just full, teeth-rottingly-sweet fluff.

Dean isn't necessarily dense. He can be pretty clever at times, though he's not a great wit.

But there is just some kind of mental block when it comes to your father.

Maybe it's his own awful relationship with his own, but he seems almost afraid of your dad.

This is despite the fact that the man is a total sweetheart, and has been your biggest shipper since you first told him you were going to ask Dean out.

Your dad loves Dean - he's always talking him up to you about his skill with cars at the machine shop.

When you and Dean got a place together, your dad has been super excited, certain a proposal can't be far behind.

"Daaaaad!" You protest, and he chuckles.

"What? He's an old-fashioned kind of guy, despite his past. I bet he wants Sweet Child O' Mine played when you walk down the aisle."

You roll your eyes. "Maybe we don't count my chickens before they hatch?"

"You mean your rings before they... get fingered? Nope. Not that."

Your dad chuckles at the weird phrasing. "You two going on another date later?"

"Yeah, he's taking me to dinner tonight."

"Oooooooh..." your dad teases. "Proposal alert!"

"Dad...."

"Fine, fine, just teasing. I won't blab to him at work, don't worry."

"Thank you." You say, smiling as you say goodbye as he heads off to the shop.

Dean is already there prepping when he arrives.

"Heya, kiddo." your dad grins at Dean.

"Ah! Sir."

"Whoa, you're jumpy today."

Dean chuckles nervously. "Yeah, I guess so."

Dean tries to play it off and leave his nervousness behind, but he's anxious all day.

He's clumsy today, accidentally dropping tools more than once and jumping when addressed.

Your dad is pretty concerned about him, and asks him to take his lunch break at the same time as him so they can talk.

"Hey, Dean-O. You doin alright?"

Dean sighs. "I... Look, I know I'm not a very... appealing guy, you know, for your son."

"Whoa, what are you talking about?"

"I'd be protective too, and I-"

"Dean! Dean. Calm down."

Your dad reaches across the table to put a hand on Dean's shoulder to steady him.

Dean looks at him. "It's... there's a right way of doing these things. And I... I love your son, sir. I really do. I know we moved in together and all, but... You have been so kind and welcoming to me, and... honestly, a lot more like a dad to me than my own dad was. And I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't..."

Dean runs out of words or breath, and falls silent, trying to calm himself.

"Say what you need, Dean-O." your dad says softly.

"I want to ask for your blessing. To marry your son. I was planning on proposing tonight."

"Oh my god!" Your dad jumps up and practically scurries around the table to draw Dean into a big hug.

The poor man is so stunned by this enthusiastic reaction, his eyes wide, arms hanging limply by his side.

"Kiddo, this is fantastic! Oh, god, he's gonna flip!"

"So, you... you're okay with-"

"Absolutely! You don't need my permission or my blessing, but I give it wholeheartedly. I'm so happy for you both, kiddo."

Dean tries not to cry, but his eyes are misty, and your dad isn't exactly unmoved either. It's something Dean has loved about him - your dad is masculine enough in his eyes to own and enjoy running an auto shop, but he doesn't feel ashamed at all about showing his feelings.

"I'm so proud of you, Dean-O."

"Thank you, sir."

"Ah! Ah-ah. You gotta call me Dad now."

Dean blinks several times, before he breaks out into a grin. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks... Dad."

Your dad is all smiles that evening when Dean leaves to go shower and pick you up for dinner.

But not as happy as Dean, who is practically glowing. He's about to join himself to you together, and even more, he finally has another father figure in his life who actually cares about him and supports him.

#dean winchester x male reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural headcanons #supernatural x reader #headcanons

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diorcities · 2 years ago

Text

icarus

pairing: jeno x fem reader.

genre: smut, angst

content: mention of inexperience reader, mention of virginity, face riding (female), slight bondage (collarbone), female masturbation, fingering, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, oral sex (male).

wc: 2.5 k

an: stop bc this look so ridiculous i don't even care. am i projecting? yes. do i want my yn moment? also yes. i love daydreams, and i love being delusional, anyway, enjoy <3

masterlist

oh, icarus! for all you have fallen, still you flew! and for a moment, the sun knew of you, too.

“yn, you're here?” your friend snaps her fingers in front of you, making you blink twice. “i'm having a collapse,” you confess, grabbing your head. “oh, no, i think i'm having a panic attack.” your eyes widening as the realization hit you in the stomach. “yeah... can you have it later? we're in the middle of something.” you laugh, tense. “i mean, what's going on? we've been here before,” she wanders around, as the lineup moves. “like, past year, you forgot?” you shake your head, a glimpse of a smile slowly dancing on your lips.

of course you remember.

last summer was the best summer of your life. after you have studied all year for your final exams at university, you and your friend went on a summer trip full of concerts and traveling around the globe. it was a rewarding experience for passing all your exams with good grades and saving money on your part-time job. it didn't matter what concerts you were attending. imagine dragons, coldplay, taylor swift... after a whole year of working hard, it was kind of a present from you to yourself. forgetting completely about college, both of you had a great time last year.

one night you two bumped into a concert having a place in your city. your friend immediately wanted to go, and consequently, dragged you with her. since your motto was <enjoy the summer as if it was your last> you didn't waste time and started to feel the vibe of the moment. letting yourself go.

a guy caught your attention that night. spending all evening looking at him in awe. amazed. later that night, you were sure his gaze was fixed on you. stealing glances from time to time, your heart beating so fast in your chest from the arousal. when the concert was over, he invited you to come with him.

his voice was low and raspy, like a shot of rum. and later that night, you knew his breathing was sharp and heavy. arms covered in veins, body sculpture, and chiseled by some divine god. eyes so dark you are scared to drown in the void of his pupils. nose long and manly that still makes you wet your underwear. you let him have you that night. a couple times.

“oh, god, i lost you again.” your friend rolls her eyes. “what's the deal with you?”.

“sorry, i got lost in my thoughts,” you reply, advancing with the line. your friend gives you a look. “you sound flustered,” she notices, smiling. “stop that,” you cut her off, hearing his laugh. “i mean, i'm a human, i'm nosy,” she defends herself. “what if i wanna know what happened?” “nothing happened,” you answer. she huffs. “lies.”

once inside, you and your friend go to the right side of the scenario. “you never told me about that guy you met last year,” she comments. “you know... your first time.” she adds. “oh, what if he's here tonight?” her eyes wides. “could be,” you say, distracted. “that's why you've been smiling so hard, i just know it.” she laughs. “i kinda wanna meet this sex god that has you smiling like an idiot.” you join her and laugh. your smile dies in your lips as the bitterness hit you. chest starting to hurt. what if he doesn't remember you? what if he doesn't want to see you? your fingers start to fidget the moment the lights go out.

and there he is again. the warmth expanding in your chest when your eyes manage to find him. he looks the same as always. ethereal. unreachable. magical. your eyes opening, trying to grasp everything. frame it in your head. tattoo it. he doesn't look at you. his eyes sweep the whole place with parsimony, but his eyes don't find yours. and the flame in your chest spreads. wanting. wishing. your muscles move on their own as you stand up, without worrying about how ridiculous you are trying right now. but your attempt worked. and now his eyes lock with yours. and you feel like you're holding your breath, yearning.

is this how icarus felt when he approached the sun? this burnt feeling through the limbs, only to find out he was burning inside out? suddenly falling (in love) with joy because, for a moment, he was close to the sun?.

his eyes weigh down when he looks at you. charged with a deep feeling, an unknown emotion. licking his lips as he sinks into his thoughts, imagining. his hectic breathing makes him look attractive. his skin glowing with sweat. flexed arms looking bigger; the memory of them holding you tightly as he penetrated you with care. you bite your lip instinctively, and you see him spasm where he stands.

both of you don't think you can hold it anymore.

the hours pass slowly. a torture for you, already waiting for him. your fiery pussy wet by your violent desires. lips part open as you breathe fast and superficial. he disappears behind backstage and doubt freeze you right where you are. wondering if you imagined it all. until a message.

j: you free?

“no. fucking. way.” you shush her watching her open her mouth, in disbelief. “you're texting jeno!?” she whispers, and you nod. “wait, what? hold on.” her eyes sparkle. “so this mysterious guy is the one and only jeno lee?” you roll your eyes. “jeez, you'll let everyone know.” she glances at your phone. “well, you better go, right?” she says. “wait, you're not coming with me?” you ask, worried. “i mean, i don't see any threesome word anywhere, so yes, i'm leaving,” she says, “you better show off. tell me all about it tomorrow,” she demands, walking away. “eh, can i have an autograph, perhaps?” she jokes, before winking. you watch her leave before responding to the message.

you: always.

even up close, your eyesight doesn't do justice to his beauty. he had a shower before you arrived. water pearls forming in his jet-black hair. his hands guide you to a wall before attacking your lips fervently. with sharp and hungry movements, he devours your mouth with desperation. leaving you breathless. the kiss breaks enough to take a breath of air, a thread of saliva connected to your lips due to arousal. feeling his tongue make its way through your mouth, flicking and moving, causing your arousal released in your core. “i want you,” you whisper in his mouth, feeling his hands running over you. “how much?” he breathes. your hands guide one of his hands under your skirt. his palm rests in your pussy. wetness going through the fabric. a filthy groan leaves his mouth. “take it off for me, angel.”

you do as you're told. lowering your underwear to your ankles and picking it up from the floor. you hand it to him, watching him bring your underwear to his face, sniffing your scent. “cute,” he says, before he kisses you. hands finding the buttons of your shirt, undressing you. leaving quick pecks on your lips, he guides you to his hotel bed. you drop yourself on the surface, staring intently at him standing in front of the bed. “show me how much you want me.” his glossy eyes darken at the sight of you spreading in the bed as you do what he wants. your black skirt lifted up, showing your wet pussy. your fingers slide between your folds, before inserting two in your cunt, remembering the times you touched yourself thinking it was him.

your head pulls back, eyes shut, feeling a sweet warmth in your intimate area. your mouth opening to let out little gasps, while your fingers move rhythmically and quickly in and out of your pussy, hitting hardly your spot. “jen-o,” you pant with a whine. the only mention of his name on your glossy lips makes his dick twitch inside his pants. he sits in the bed, eyes glued on your fingers stroking your cunt. your back arch as you feel the flames spreading inside you, his hands stopping you from reaching your climax. a wave of spasms shakes your body, as you bite your lips, opening your eyes, before he uses the same hand that pulled out your fingers from your pussy to insert his own. “let me.”

his movements are by far more precise and agile than yours. his long fingers going in and out, as you stirred and hissed and twitched your face in pleasure under the blackhair's gaze. his free hand goes to your collarbone, restraining you from moving under his touch. the wet sounds filling the room with your whimpers and moans, feeling his fingers increase intensity and speed, driving you insane, making a mess of babbling and incoherent words. your eyesight going black when he hit your sweet spot repeatedly, limbs going numb, before the fire pools and spread in your core, to the rest of your body. legs pressing together as he keeps flicking his fingers inside, your walls contracting and pulsing in his digits.

he lets you go to lick your arousal from his fingers, humming in an instance. “so sweet.” he states. “fuck, let me taste a little more.” you feel his breath in your pussy, before his tongue wipes out your sensitive core. your hands go to his hair, feeling him licking and sucking you. your legs spread open, as he dives into your pussy with heavy breath.

he detaches from your pussy and sits up on the bed. his hands seek yours and climb you on his lap without difficulty due to your muscles still stiff, body feeling lightweight. he kisses your neck and lips. hands disappearing under your skirt sensing his fingers testing your ass, sliding his index finger along the length, until finding your hole, inserting his digit with a quick move. your body stutter as the warm feeling embraces you, starting to wiggle while his finger fucks you. it's a new feeling for you, arching your back due to the strange pleasure that hits you. starting to grind against his lap. his free hand goes to your back, unfastening your bra. his thumb rubs circles in your nipple while his mouth wraps the other one, sucking gently.

he stops his fingers while lifting you with one arm enough to pull down his pants. “are you gonna be a good girl and ride this dick? mmm.” you nod effusively. he releases his length and it hit your leg, twitching. your hands go to your skirt, but he stops you, “leave it on, you look cute.” glancing at his bulge you think that it must hurt him. so you don't waste time after he puts a condom in, taking it on your hands and plunging it inside, already craving it. a sweet burn embraces your pussy due to his thickness. stretching you out. adjusting and wriggling on his length. jeno lets out a rasping grunt before he makes you bounce on his lap. pounding into his dick, your vision fades to black, sensing the waves of pleasure washing you. your breathy moans and soft whines mixing with his guttural sounds. kissing his lips, grinding against him. awakening all your nerve endings.

you contract your walls feeling his dick twitch, before pushing it deeper, the dizziness clouding your senses as you go up and down, constantly hitting your core, almost seeing stars. “fuck, i'm gonna cum.” his raspy voice warns. you go faster and harder, riding him to his climax. feeling his dick, pulsating against your walls, you grind him, rocking your hips back and forth, feeling his cock still hard. your moves becoming sloppy the more you approach your orgasm, finally exploding and throbbing around his length.

you pant, exhausted. feeling mind blurry and body buzzing on top of him.

“sit on my face,” he hisses, lifting you up with ease. his body rests on the mattress as you climb to his chest, hands holding you for support before you sit down on his face. nose rubbing your clit.

you let out a little moan before you start moving. his hands holding your thighs tightly while you rock your hips into his face. tongue licking along your folds, nose stroking your clit, grinding against him, mixing your juices with his saliva. his warm breath hitting your core sweetly while he mumbles “taste so good.” speeding your moves as the knot in your stomach tightens. quivering and crying out because his tongue feels so good, before releasing your extasis in his mouth. your orgasm washes you over, dissolving in shockwaves.

you stroke his hair while he force you to rock your hips along his mouth. feeling so satisfied it hurts. “s-too much...” you cry, trying to stop him from moving you, but he's stronger, so it doesn't happen. “go on, darling, a little more.” he mutters into your core, sending shivers through your body due to the sensation. you swallow, deeply. “let me... i want to taste you too, ” you confess, fluttering your eyes because of how sensitive you were.

you hop off his body and drop your knees in front of him.

holding his cock in your hands, starting to move them up and down. he's already hard. you strike your tongue along his length, hearing his throaty breathing. “put it in your mouth, yeah?” he urges you. your warm mouth receives his cock with pleasure. sucking gently and watching him stare at you while you do it. tongue going to the underside of his shaft before returning to the tip, swollen and red. inserting it with ease until it hits the back of your throat. “you're taking it so well,” he says, breathy. you hum with his cock still in your mouth, causing him to swear. watching him so needy and agitated for you. oh, you wish you were the only one who could see him like that. his cock feeling so good, his tip resting on your tongue as you stroke him. feeling his flavourful seed spilling in your mouth before you swallow it.

you get up from the ground wiping the corner of your lips, staring at him, seeking his approval. “have i done it right?” you wonder. his hand caressed your cheek before sliding into your mouth. “mmm,” he grants. he taste himself on your lips.

“now, all fours on the bed. i'd like to destroy you a few times more.” strocking his length.

you feel him settle behind you, and you don't have time to get ready when his cock buries inside with a hard move. body propelled forward. his hands hold you in place before he starts to smack his hips against yours, pounding at a slow and hard pace, making you feel demolished. gasping with each thrust, your body collapses between the sheets, before he uses his strength to make you arch your back. mumbling and babbling like a fool, brainwashed by the way he's fucking you. your whole body shivering due to the overwhelming feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your abused pussy. “fu-uck.” biting your lips and rolling your eyes to the back of your head, spinning. your pulsing walls wrapping him tight while he curses a lot.

a few more thrusts are done before you release yourself around him. your limbs numbing with a white feeling. mouth part open letting out incoherent words, mind going blank. you feel his grip on your legs, turning you around, now facing him. “want to stop?” he asks, hovering over you and leaving kisses on your neck and chest. his eyes meeting your eyes, watching you smile languidly shaking your head. he smiles before he pulls in. “good girl.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #jeno smut #♡jeno #jeno drabbles

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thatfreshi · 1 year ago

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Rage To The Point of Hysteria (Astarion x Reader)

Third part in this little series (I Want To Mean It and Take This and Leave are both before this.)

Recommended Song: Forgiveless - SZA Ft. Ol' Dirty Bastard

"Well thank the gods you're not upset, because I have a feeling Gale wouldn't try to reverse it at this point."

Astarion's ear perk up at your comment.

"What do you mean darling? I'm sure he'd try if you asked him."

You hesitate to speak again, knowing your fiance will be pissed as soon as he hears about what happened in Gale's tower. Rightfully so, of course, but Astarion is not the type of man you want to make angry, especially when it comes to his lover.

"We aren't exactly... speaking?"

His eyes narrow.

"Is he being a dramatic sad boy again? Because first of all that's my thing, and second of all he has a wedding to be in tomorrow."

"I have a feeling you won't want him there anymore."

"Why not? He's our best friend! Gale has stood by us loyally as long as we've been in love."

You pause, he knows you're not telling him the whole story, but he doesn't push it, knowing you're nervous.

"You do love me... right?"

Suddenly a sadness casts across his eyes, wondering why you would even ask such a question.

"Of course I do my sweet. I asked you to marry me, didn't I?"

You sit back down on the bed, beckoning him to come sit with you.

"Well, Gale said some really horrible things. Horrible things about me, about you, about this whole relationship."

You tear up a little.

"You know he speaks without much thought darling. Not the brightest among us."

"No, Astarion, he was really awful. He said that I was a naive idiot for thinking you were in love with me, and how you've just been using me to keep yourself safe all this time, and that this marriage is just an extra layer of protection for you."

Rage. You still think to this day that somehow his eyes get redder when he's mad, even though that's probably impossible.

"He called you, what?"

His fingernails dig into the sheets, wishing they were around Gale's throat. He could care less about what was said about him, he's been lied about all his life. But you were crying because of something Gale said, questioning his love for you over some foolish man.

"Yeah, and I think he's like weirdly in love with me, and he just never said anything? It was all super gross, and I just can't believe he was like that."

"Funny, I'm in love with you and I would never call you a naive idiot like that. Of course, not outside of the times that you enjoyed it."

Astarion gets back up off the bed, making his way to a chest full of old weapons, memories of your journeys. He squats down, unlocking it, gazing at the various dangerous items.

"Aster, what are you doing?"

He laughs.

"Deciding what I'm going to flay him with my dear, what else would I be doing?"

Rage to the point of hysteria, enjoying the image of exacting revenge. The last time you saw him like this was before he killed Cazador.

"You can't just go over there and cut him up!"

"You're right, I have to do worse. You're so smart my dear."

He grabs a couple of blades out of the chest, and you walk over to where he's scavenging.

"I love you-"

"I love you too darling."

"I love you but, this is only going to make it worse. If you kill him, all of the alarms in his tower will go off, you'll probably be arrested-"

"Worth it."

"Astarion, please just listen to me."

"I am listening, I just happen to be scheming at the same time. I am a wonderful multi-tasker after all."

You'd be frustrated if you weren't worried. He really doesn't like seeing you hurt, or upset, and now you're both, all because some raggedy wizard decided he wanted to cause strife.

"Astarion, you can't even go out right now, it's the middle of the day!"

Now, that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Damn it!"

He tries to ponder for a moment, wondering how long it would take to dig a hole from your house to his tower. After doing some rough math, he lets out a cry of frustration.

"How dare he throw around baseless accusations, and insult you to boot! He's a coward, a slimy, rotten, coward, who's trying to ruin something perfectly good because some goddess told him he should die for the greater good!"

You reach out, grabbing his hand, squeezing it tight.

"Aster, please."

Your desperation snaps him out of his stupor, realizing you're still crying, and his murderous plans aren't helping. He sighs, sitting down next to you, pulling you into lay on him.

"I'm sorry my sweet. I just... I hate seeing you get hurt."

"I know, but killing him doesn't solve anything."

He shrugs.

''Well, it would solve the problem of him existing."

"Astarion."

"Right, right, you're lecturing me about proper emotional maturity and such. Sorry, please continue."

You fiddle with his hands, staring at the details of his knuckles.

"I'm really upset with him too, but I don't need you to go turn him into a human filet, I just need you to sit here and listen to me. I'm mainly upset by what he said about you anyway."

"Well, you know he's wrong."

"Yeah, but to lie about being your friend, and then claim you're still just this horrible person? It's not fair, you've grown so much."

"We're the only people that need to know that Tav. If everyone hated me but you, I'd still be right where I am, loving you, and only you."

You lose a little tension, melting into the warmth of his embrace.

"I suppose you're right."

He leaves a kiss on your head.

"Now, we're going to enjoy our little time left as unmarried lovers, and when dusk comes, Gale and I are going to have a little talk. But until then, you can rant and rave as much as you'd like darling. Does that sound alright to you?"

You draw a little heart with your finger on the top of his hand.

"Sounds great. Thank you."

"Of course whatever you need, always."

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #angst #comfort

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security-chief-odo · 1 year ago

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To Love and be Loved in Return

Roy Kent x Reader

Description: Both you and Roy Kent are in love, but of course neither of you knows your feelings are requited. Who will be the first to spill the beans?

Chapter 1 - World’s Greatest Boss

Word Count: 1k

• • •

You have been working as a coaching assistant for AFC Richmond for the past six months. Though your job technically speaking is to assist the entire coaching staff, in reality, you were hired to manage Roy Kent.

Though he is an excellent coach, he is god awful at things like maintaining a schedule, filing any paperwork in a reasonable time frame, and generally dealing with the public. This is where you come in and make his life (and Rebecca’s) easier.

Your life on the other hand has gotten much harder as a result of this job. You have had a school girl crush on Roy since he was still playing for Chelsea. A crush you had assumed was just superficial and would fade as you got to know him as a coworker and a friend. If only life was ever that easy.

If anything, your crush has just gotten stronger because not only is Roy insanely hot, but he is kind, smart, and surprisingly funny. Perhaps more importantly though, he is sitting in front of your desk, not noticing as you stare at him.

“What do I have to get done this weekend?”

“Well, it’ll be a busy one for you. You need to go pick up your suit from the tailor tomorrow for the gala next weekend.”

He groaned, “I still don’t see why I have to go to that stupid thing.”

“It is quite literally in your job description Roy.” He rolls his eyes at that but lets you continue. “You have a game Tuesday, press conference after that. Do you have your shoes for the gala?”

“I’m not getting new shoes for that shit, I have a pair that’ll do. Do you have my talking points prepped for the press conference?” You hand over a bullet pointed page. “And if we lose?”

“You won’t, but that’s on the printer.” You turn in your chair to grab it but he's up and behind your desk already, skimming over the page.

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn, probably”

He chuckled at that, “Yeah, probably. So I, uh, wanted to ask before, but are you going to the gala?”

“I’m office staff, I’m not sure I’m invited”

“Of course you’re fucking invited.”

“I’ll ask Rebecca about it.”

“No need, you can be my plus one.” You stop dead in your tracks at his words. Of course you want to go to the gala with Roy but there’s no way he means it like that and sitting by his side all night just might be the death of you.

“Oh um, I don’t know”

“Come on, y/n”

“I don’t have anything to wear. My wardrobe isn’t exactly fitting for a gala”

“Then I’ll buy you a dress.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m sure you had some model you were going to bring anyways.”

“I’m not that guy anymore, y/n. And anyways, you deserve to go, you’re part of the team” Right, part of the team. He’s being a good boss. That’s all he was ever doing.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll give Keeley my credit card and have her pick you up Saturday”

Returning to your emails, you began typing as you continued the conversation. “Anyone ever told you that you’re kind of an amazing boss?”

Right, you only see him as your boss. Nothing more. Probably never will be anything more. He just needed to accept that.“I don’t know that that’s the word the boys would use.”

“Well, maybe you should try buying all of them fancy dresses?”

“You know, that just might do the trick,” a smile threatens to cross his face, “but I don't think they’d look nearly as good.”

“Careful sir, don’t let Isaac hear you say that one.”

That one actually got a laugh out of him. “You’re right. Then I might have to bring him as my date instead–” His eyes widen as soon as the word ‘date’ leaves his mouth and he stumbles out, “not that I’m asking you as my date. I’m not. I just–”

Despite the sinking feeling in your gut, you let him off the hook. “Of course not Roy. I didn’t assume you were.”

“Right. Well. I’ll just leave you to uh, you know, I’ve got a meeting.” He rushed out, nearly slamming your door behind him. As soon as he was out of earshot, he groaned “Fuck.” Roy should have known better than to say anything. You are sweet and beautiful and fucking brilliant and he might have just ruined everything.

You are sitting in your office, having completed Roy’s schedule, you move on to Beard and Nate. There’s no way those meetings will be nearly as painful as your last one. You never thought Roy would return your feelings, but you figured you would at least have to ask before he could reject you.

Roy and you are clearly avoiding each other all day Thursday. He takes his lunch in his car. You don’t even leave your office. You wait until the end of the day to go meet with the assistant coaches about their calendars, hoping that Roy may have left early.

You aren’t quite so lucky and bump into him as you enter the locker room. Of course this knocks your papers out of your hands. You squat down to pick them up.

“Fuck,” he growls, “sorry.”

“It’s ok. I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going either.”

He extends a hand to help you up. Your hand feels nice in his and you both are holding hands for a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.

With nothing left to say, you find yourself looking into his kind eyes before you are interrupted by Nate.

“Oh y/n, I was just about to come grab you for our meeting.”

“Right.” you turn to Roy, “See you tomorrow!”

He waves as he walks away, not for a second noticing where your eyes were as you watched him leave. You follow Nate back into the office for your meetings with the assistant coaches, your thoughts however stay on the head coach.

• • •

Click here for chapter 2!

Let me know if you’re interested in joining my taglist, either for this series or my general taglist. Otherwise, just let me know what you think!

#reader insert #roy kent x reader #roy kent #Roy Kent/reader #idiots in love #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso #afc richmond #to love and be loved in return

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t0ast-ghost · 5 months ago

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Season four of the boys is hitting my brain like a crowbar so I’ve got a couple more thoughts about the new episode

There’s gonna be spoilers for the episode, a bit of talk about the comics, and some only slightly bloody images, so be wary, be warned!

These are my thoughts during the first watch:

- When Butcher hit his head I actively gasped. My poor babygirl.

- I do like how they’ve made Becca meaner but essentially still her

- Frenchie. Break up with him.

- I’m glad Annie has more plot and scenes this season. I’m also glad that Firecracker is actually fucking with her. Their foundation is messy but the actual rivalry is coming together quite nicely

- “I had nightmares about that exact moment, and you can’t even remember it. It’s funny, isn’t it, how people can have such different memory of the exact same thing.” Oh my god this is such a good line. Like obviously not to the extremes of Homelander but kids can and will retain things that their parents won’t even remember. They make some parts of his character easy to understand because you can see that his actions are always impulsive and unhealthy and created by the ways he was raised and the environment he’s been surrounded by

- Okay that death was so so well done. It’s so emotional for Homelander because he’s seeing how people aren’t honest or caring until he’s threatening them. I can’t even try and decipher the “I forgive you” line because it’s so full of apathy

- Hughie and Kimiko teaming up is so special to me. I need more of them.

- HUGHIE GETTING V FOR HIS DAD??? CONFRONTING A TRAIN??? Discuss??? (There’s more thoughts later)

- Hughie saying that him and A-Train would be “good” if A-Train got the v for him is so heavy. It felt like Hughie trading Robin’s life for his dads. Or for his future? Like in order to move on he has to let go of Robin and that feels so awful

- I wanna state how easily and quickly they made me uncomfortable with Firecracker and The Deep singing. How is that so unreasonably uncomfortable?

- So uh. Yeah I’m not sure I wanna touch that scene…

- THEY PUT HUGHIE IN A SCREAM CHASE SCENE

- I literally screamed when Hughie killed him omg. This is what I’m here for omg omg my babygirl

(Here’s a behind the scenes stunt video on insta)

- Tala is so fair for that but when is she gonna become apart of the boys family?

- I think Annie is going to blow up. Like I think she will do something really bad.

- YEA BEAT HER UP ANNIE… okay maybe not the best decision but…

- WHAT THE FUCK

- Fun fact Homelander’s birth that Barbara describes is how Becca dies in the comics

- UM UM UM UM UM so uhhhhhh I suspected that Sage needed to give herself lobotomies for that reason (wish I said smt goddamnit) but I was not ready for a scene depicting a lobotomy that also implied it was like sex to her?

- Kimiko and Annie hug <333

- Hughie forgave him… now kiss

- “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hating anybody” YESS that’s what this is about!!! How fucking contrasting Hughie and Butchers views are on the subject of revenge and superheroes. Their situations are so very different from the comics and I like that both of them are (somewhat) healing. Hughie’s forgiven A-Train and Butcher is just trying to get Ryan safe. It’s less about killing for both of them in the show which I love

- I paused to write that before the “there’s enough here to save you too” OH MY GOD NO. No no. Nonononono. No.

- Hughie’s face when getting coffee? Mwah! Give him little kiss

- HIS MOM. KNOWS. ABOUT. V!!?? I mean. They couldn’t kill off Simon Pegg. He’s Simon Pegg! Just kidding I totally thought he was going to die. I wonder if they’ll give him the same kind of quandary Hughie originally got in the comics when Butcher forcefully injected him with V

- Perfect ending for Homelander’s visit home.

Interlude:

So I haven’t started the rewatch yet but two things about some characters of the last three episodes that actually didn’t make an appearance in this one.

First off I don’t think I mentioned this in my last post but I really like what they’ve done with Noir. It’s an interesting and corporate way to bring back the character that makes a lot of sense in universe

Secondly there’s a theory I wanted to bring to people’s attention. This video on instagram has the theory that Kessler is like Becca and isn’t actually real. Which I think is really neat. I’ll take it either way but it would make a lot of sense if he wasn’t since he seems to hold a lot of negative traits that Butcher used to have and is trying to grow from

Okay I lied, third thing cause it just got brought to my attention again; everyone who is making fun of Laz Alonso shut the fuck up. Thank you. I won’t be taking criticism on this.

Onto the rewatch:

- The first shot is of different variations of Homelander’s costume. Pretty cool!

- Second shot has two pictures of Frank and Martin working in the lab with Frank’s picture framed by a newspaper thats article makes no sense but has a lot of key words and phrases (could just be gibberish idk) the title on a separate article from the same newspaper can be read as “Drama class wins award” other than that there’s also some kind of document that’s the same kind of gibberish but it caught my eye cause it says “-orthward gay” … not sure what this means…

Camera then pans down to reveal a memo and news clipping. The memo is from Barbara to the staff and talks about how anyone who breaks the confidentiality of Project Odessa will be terminated and prosecuted. The news clipping is more gibberish with the heading “Nervous system mystery revealed” by Greg Gilmore (by gibberish I mean the first couple sentences are “Had men rose from down lady able. Its son him ferrars proceed six parlors.” And then continues on like that)

- I actually love the horror movie situation they find themselves in. It’s a creepy basement lab. The security cams go out. Communication to the outside world has been cut off. Then the devil arrives in the elevator. It’s done so well, things are set up perfectly. There’s even a sign that says “All activities monitored by video camera” and a box with the words “fire safety plan” (could be foreshadowing or I’m just connecting non existent dots)

- The picture of young Homelander with the scientists. It’s so horribly terrible and amazing

- Fudgie the whale is their last meal :(

- titties ahem I didn’t really pay any attention to the shower scene last time. That’s a terrible shower head in my opinion, I don’t like the way it sprays water- OH WAIT THE WIRM IS IN HIS SPINE????? He’s also got a bullet wound in his back. He’s also got a lot of nice freckles on his back. Oh the way Becca sits on the edge and offers her hand and he reaches to take it but grasps the edge of the bathtub instead

- Hughie’s mom seems so fucking casual in the scene where they’re deciding whether to pull his dad’s feeding tubes. She’s too relaxed and almost smiling? At least with her eyes. A lot.

- OH YEAH Gen V mentioned!

- ANNIE I LOVE YOU!!! Look at her face after she burned the president!

- Seriously though such a good Annie moment. She’s so confident with this and marches into the presidents’ office with a plan but by the end of this it’s all backfired and taken away from her. It shows just how fucking much Firecracker ends up affecting her

- I’m not going to be nit picky and go on about how Colin should’ve noticed Frenchie’s ankle because obviously he’d be checking and Frenchie wouldn’t’ve known to hide it before. But I am going to say that’s a Count Olaf ass ankle shot.

- Oh I love how it seems like almost a sweet moment between Sage and Firecracker when she says “we gotta look out for each other” but now you know Sage fully intends for Firecracker to get beat up by Starlight

- I was trying to figure out why Sage got the Deep to do her lobotomy. It’s not that Sage trusts the Deep or even likes him but I think it really is just kind of transactional for her. Like she knows what he wants and what will keep him happy, he’s the only one she’s really made a connection with other than Homelander and Firecracker, and he is not likely to want anything else from her or blab about it. Somehow he is logically the best one to do it?

- It’s great how much Annie really really doesn’t want Butcher there. And neither does Frenchie. Or M. M. Damn, my babygirl has pissed off a lot of people

- Homelander’s theme is so so good. The lone violin does something to my brain. It highlights his isolation and intimidation and fear so nicely.

- I do not know how some people didn’t know Frenchie was queer? I thought it was actually very obvious that in cannon he is bi/pan and polyamorous. Maybe that was just me…

- Just realized how this episode we have both Hughie and Homelander forgiving people. Dots connected! 😃👍 (I’m not dissecting this right now, what do you think I’m an English major?)

- I love all the Hughie and A-Train moments. There’s so much history between them and it’s so present in those moments so it’s interesting to see them have to let it go to help each other because I think they both realize that they’re both fucked up people who are trying to be good and they ultimately relate to each other in a way I don’t think either of them realizes

- Kimiko telling Hughie to let his dad die, to not use the V, is so so strangely powerful coming from her. She understands what it’s like to have V forced upon you, and to be saved by it time and time again. And although she’s now choosing it, she sees how Hughie’s dad probably won’t end up like her and will find it to be a curse

- Hughie tripping is such a loser move (lovingly) like I thought he got shot in the leg or smt but no he just trips. Like the little fail boy he is.

- I love Kimiko showing Hughie how to fight someone and protect himself and then later helping him walk away (it’s a little funny just because Jack Quaid is really fucking tall). She also gives him the motivation of ‘it’s not just about your survival, it’s about your dads as well’ she wants him getting through this and I cannot handle when the boys show care to each other especially when it’s Hughie and Kimiko

- Homelander’s need to be loved is really really really well set up in previous seasons. It’s the only thing that could control him and he doesn’t know it’s even happening for most of his life because he doesn’t know how to ask for it. The environment he grew up in wouldn’t teach him that and the environment he’s put in pushes away and punishes emotion and care. He started off wanting a family from work because it’s similar enough to the lab but no one there has hurt him yet or appears afraid of him. But as he realizes he can’t gain their care, that he can’t make a family, he leans on the fact he can take most of what he wants. But not love. Not true care.

I think eventually he begins to think there’s something wrong with him, but rather than facing that idea (the idea that he’s unlovable) he pushes harder on the idea he is perfect. He is better. Furthering his decent and pushing everyone even further away.

- Butcher and M.M’s ‘time to fill the audience in’ lines caused me to look up what an enema is. And then left the rest to my imagination. First, fuck you! Second that’s a very good device to use because sometimes not showing and leaving it to the audiences imaginations is the most horrifying (it’s their own private horror show)

- I’m looking at the scene where A-Train and Ashley catch each other and I have a feeling it’s going to play out as either Ashley betrays A-Train to win Homelander’s favour, A-Train betrays Ashley, or they betray each other. I’m fairly certain Sage knows A-Train is switching sides so I wonder if she’ll have a plan for when he gets caught.

I also have a feeling that by the end of this season A-Train is either going to die in some horrible way (maybe by Hughie, maybe Homelander, maybe Butcher even) or he’s going to betray the Boys.

If A-Train does die (pls please do not kill him please) I’m wondering how they’ll do it because his death in the comics wouldn’t make sense here and I feel like SuperSonic’s death was already an homage to that

- I wonder if Ashley’s floater will have any consequences. Like they took the time to set it up. Will Homelander comment on it later?

- The way he says “you called me squirt silly” is so so aughhh. This is probably another moment that Homelander remembers that seems so inconsequential to Marty. He was watched and humiliated all of his childhood and then he gets this one thing to himself and when someone discovers it they laugh, adding so much more humiliation. Anyway I’m um skipping the rest of this scene until Barbara shows up.

- Can we take a second to appreciate how fucking well Nancy Lenehan plays the character of Barbara. There is still so much fear to her character but there is no bullshit, there’s a lot of control in a situation where so little is available. She’s cold while still giving a kind of stern mothering vibe. She explains the situation, all the gory details as facts. Starting with “put him out of his misery” to “they were scared”, you could have left, and you were killing from the moment you were born. She knows begging will get her nowhere but she’s still very very afraid.

- Babygirl moment I will never get over. He fought for his life, he kicked and shoved and he won. How this man is alive is a mystery to me but I’m so glad :)

- Tala finally got to say what she wanted to Kimiko but the look on her face as Kimiko leaves is so.. unsatisfied. It’s not over between them, and maybe it hurts that Tala now sees her being kind and caring because that’s not what she got when she first met Kimiko. Maybe she still wants to get that ice cream. Probably not. Just theorizing about her character. Lemme know what you think

- The worm looks like it’s struggling. Maybe Butcher’s life is connected to its life?

- This episode is kind of like one gory scene to the next. You get Hughie and Kimiko killing, then Annie beating the shit out of Firecracker, then Butcher blowing up Ezekiel, and then you’re back to Homelander’s whole fucking slaughter, then it’s Colin beating up Frenchie, THEN it’s a LOBOTOMY, then it’s a nice little hug awwwe

- Barbara’s monologue. I can’t even touch on that. It’s too much for my brain but I’ve been seeing a lot of good posts about it.

- My heart is full after the Hughie and Annie scene. It is so full of love. Fuck OFF Dakota Bob.

- Hughie and A-Train sittin’ in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-

- “You fucking dog wanker” actually Butcher its dog welder and I wouldn’t compare anyone, let alone Hughie, to him

- Hughie getting told by Butcher not to cure his dad is also really fucking sad. Karl Urban don’t kill Simon Pegg! Instead join the USS Enterprise-

- Daphne tries to get close to Hughie and he rejects her cause he doesn’t feel comfortable crying in front of his mom. Hughie stop being relatable.

- He’s really cute when he smiles. I get it. But he’s also committed atrocities. You cannot fix him. (Which man am I talking about? You’ll never know…)

Here’s a link to the first one because if you got this far I guess you enjoy me talking about this

I’ll probably continue talking about this so if there’s more you will find a link to the post here

#the boys #the boys tv #the boys season 4 #the boys season 4 spoilers #the boys spoilers #hughie campbell #billy butcher #annie january #mothers milk #kimiko the boys #homelander #a train #the deep #sister sage #firecracker #ashley barrett #television t0ast talks

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 days ago

Text

How the Night Changes

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

18+ MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

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

"Barb!" Nancy exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Steve," Nancy called out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Barb?" Nancy asked.

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

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

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

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

"Definitely," Nancy said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really?" Nancy and Barb asked.

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

"I'm sorry," Nancy said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"OW!"

" - bite."

"Do it again."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Nancy asked.

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

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

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

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

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

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

"Oh, definitely," Nancy said.

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

"Thanks," Steve said fondly.

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

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

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

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

BANG!

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit!" Steve exclaimed.

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

"What's it doing?" Nancy whispered.

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

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

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

"Nance!" Barb hissed.

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

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

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

"Me neither," Barb and Nancy said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who would we tell?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

"Nancy, what - "

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

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

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

"I ditched Tommy and Carol," he said.

"Really?" Barb asked.

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

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

"Really?" Steve and Nancy asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How pathetic - ," Tommy started to say.

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

"You little - "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That was hot," Barb said.

"That really was," Nancy agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?" Nancy asked.

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

"What? No," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

Nicole smiled sympathetically at Nancy and walked away.

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

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

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

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

"No, think again," Nancy said.

"The monster!" Barb and Steve gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Clearly," Nancy scoffed.

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

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

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

"I'm sorry," Jonathan said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I like you, too," Steve said.

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

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

"So, now, what?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

"Obviously," Steve scoffed.

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

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

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

Barb and Nancy looked at Steve, scoffing.

"Really?"

"What?" Steve asked.

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

"Classy, Steve," Nancy said.

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

Nancy and Barb giggled as they got into her car.

"Classy!"

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

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

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

"And who is this?" Karen asked.

"Larry!" Holly exclaimed, hugging her leg.

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

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

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

"I like yours, too," Steve said.

Holly giggled and ran off towards her room.

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

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

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

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

"Mom!" Nancy exclaimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just me," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We definitely didn't," Steve said.

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

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

"I thought I was too," Nancy giggled.

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

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

"That is NOT a word," Nancy laughed.

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

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

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

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

"You can't!" Nancy giggled.

"Why the hell not?" Barb asked.

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

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

"Me too," Nancy said.

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

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

"A real nap?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, a real nap, Steven."

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, me too," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Nancy said.

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

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

"What does that mean?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

"Yeah," Nancy said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you mind - ?" Jonathan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you," Barb said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, well, yes," She said.

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

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

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

"Barbara!" She chuckled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Daddy, get in here!" Barb laughed.

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

"I want to kill it," Jonathan said.

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

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Yes," Jonathan said.

"What about your mom?" Barb asked.

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

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

"Your mother likes knives?" Steve asked Barb.

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

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

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

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

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

"I have to be," Jonathan said.

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

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

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

"Jesus," Jonathan said.

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

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

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

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

"Like you and your brother?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

"Monster hunting," Nancy replied.

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

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

"Really?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell?" Steve asked.

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

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

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

"Hey, assholes!" Steve yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You totally did," Barb said.

"Saved my ass, man," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Callahan sighed and took the cuffs off of Jonathan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this the only photo?" Hopper asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, out of town," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's my house!" Nancy exclaimed.

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

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

"They're right," Hopper said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What a mouth breather," Dustin scowled.

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

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

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

"It was a group effort," Mike shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Haha, hilarious," Steve said.

"You're good," Barb smiled.

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

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

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

"You are Barbara," El said.

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

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

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

"I had to," El said.

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

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

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

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

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

"What did I miss?" Barb asked.

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You, too," Steve said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know," Barb whispered.

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

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

"What do you think?" Steve asked.

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

"Yeah, awesome," El breathed.

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

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

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

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

"Not anymore," Lucas said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Barb!" Steve hollered.

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

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

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

"Papa," El muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Better than you and Barb," Lucas said.

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

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

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

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

"Jonathan's house," Barb replied.

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

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

LATER. . .IN THE HOSPITAL. . .

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

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

"Me?" Jonathan asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You totally pull them off," Steve muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, it does," Barb said.

"All of us," Steve said.

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

"Whenever you're ready," Barb said.

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

SUMMER OF '84

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

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

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

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

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

"Sorry," Nancy said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Their loss is our gain," Barb said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I just know," Jonathan blushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's true," Barb said thoughtfully.

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

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

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

32 notes · View notes

elvenisms · 2 years ago

Text

friday —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [3.5k]

summary: Robin orchestrates the best (and worst) Valentine's Day of your life.

cw: angst, fluff, cursing, no use of y/n, steve is an idiot (per usual), reader cries a lot (relatable), happy ending.

author's note: i got carried away with this, ngl. proof that i cannot write anything fluffy without angst. enjoy!

masterlist

It was Thursday.

Thursdays were good days. You didn’t work, giving you some well-needed rest from wearing that stupid vest, rewinding tapes, and dealing with late returns. You could throw on a movie you’d been meaning to watch for weeks, invite some friends over, and veg out. You could go see a show at The Hideout, if someone interesting was playing. Sometimes, Thursday was laundry day. But today wasn’t any Thursday.

Today was Thursday, February 13th, 1986. The day before Valentine’s Day.

“Vickie and I are going to do something, we just don’t know what.” Robin pushed her lips together, toying with a loose piece of thread on your couch. “I mean, obviously we’ll have a little date during the day, but we thought a group thing would be fun, ya’ know?”

Eddie had come over to watch Day of the Dead with you that day, and when Robin got off work, she called to see what you were up to. “Hanging out with Eds, pretending Valentine’s Day doesn’t exist.” You’d quipped, which is precisely how she ended up in your house, talking about Valentine’s Day.

“As much as I’d love to third-wheel,” Eddie stretched. “I’m going to see a show. Some new guys, but I heard they’re good.”

“Yeah, I’m…” You wracked your brain for something you had to do, trying to get out of it, just as Eddie had. “I’m, uh, working. And then… Oh, I told Max I’d help her study? Some test she has. Science, I think.”

Eddie and Robin both eyed you judgmentally. It was entirely unconvincing, and also a lie. The Max part, anyway.

“Oh, give me a break,” You grunted, their faces saying enough. “I already told you, Rob, tomorrow is just Friday as far as I’m concerned.”

“But you don’t want it to just be Friday,” She remarked. “You want it to be Valentine’s Day, but you’re lonely.”

A huff of air came through Eddie’s nose, trying not to laugh at her well-meaning bluntness. You gave him a sour look, and he quickly dropped it.

“Thank you for reminding me,” You muttered, leaning forward to pick up some empty beer bottles from the table, carrying them to the trash can in the kitchen.

You weren’t actually mad, not at Robin. You were frustrated with the fact that you cared about some stupid holiday, that you couldn’t just be like Eddie, who genuinely didn’t give a shit. Unwilling to admit it to yourself, you were also mad that every guy in Hawkins you’d gone out with was a total disaster; Matthew Campbell probably couldn’t tie a shoelace if you asked him to, and you told him that, so you didn’t suspect he’d be knocking on your door tomorrow.

You waltzed back into the living room to your unsuspecting victims, now on a tirade you’d created in your own head. “It’s not my fault that there is no one in this town for me, okay? I’ve officially given up. I’m tired of putting on makeup, going to Enzo’s, and making awful small talk, for which the reward is a lackluster trip to second base in the back of a ca—”

Robin gasped as if she’d seen a ghost. Your rant halted, staring at her, and she looked back with wide eyes, jaw agape. “How have I never put this together?”

She looked like she’d just had a stroke of genius, discovered a new element, or something. You looked at Eddie, then back to her. “Put what together? That I’m hopeless?”

“No, no no,” She leapt up off of the couch, starting to pace. “You sound just like—oh my God, this is incredible. I mean, this is actually perfect—”

“Robin!” You threw your arms out, exasperated, letting them smack against your sides.

“Steve!” She exclaimed, gripping your shoulders. “Steve, who is also lonely and has no plans for tomorrow!”

Your insides twisted. Steve.

You would’ve been lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about him that way before. I mean, you had eyes, but your close friendship had never allowed it to last more than a minute. More than anything, the two of you poked fun at each other, constantly trying to see who could get the last word. But you were still close, close enough that you knew he’d come running if you ever really needed him, and that was… nice.

Everything about him was nice, really.

You blinked at Robin, your gears shifting at impossible speeds. She was still holding your shoulders, expectant.

“I think she’s on board.” Eddie piped up with a smirk, and you instantly held a finger out to him, still looking at the girl in front of you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re saying it with your eyes.” Robin was containing a giddy squeal. You could almost feel her vibrating.

“No, no, I’m not.” You finally broke free from her grasp. Now you were pacing. “If Steve was interested in me, he would’ve said something a long time ago.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Yeah, dingus, with a capital ‘D’,” Robin gestured with her hands. “I saw a bird land on his head once and he asked me what I was looking at. You think he’d notice he had a shot with you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, that’s… yeah, you’re right. But I’m not just gonna call him up and ask him to be my Valentine. I’d rather puke.”

“So don’t!” Robin spun around, another lightbulb behind her eyes. “I have an idea.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This was a terrible idea.

You were staring into your mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles on your clothes. You’d gone for not-trying-too-hard cute; a black turtleneck with a calf-length, patterned skirt, and a thick belt around your waist. You’d done your hair and your makeup, satisfied with them, but this time felt… different. You weren’t going to Enzo’s with some tip-stiffing lowlife. You were seeing Steve.

Robin had suggested a gathering at your place. She, Vickie, Nancy, and Jonathan were sitting in your living room, sipping drinks, chatting mindlessly. When she’d invited Steve, she’d said that the four of them were going to your house—assuming he’d pick up the hint, and jump at the chance to be your date.

And he did.

The real reason you’d never allowed Steve to infiltrate your mind was because, well, that’s exactly what he’d do. You could handle losing Matthew Campbell, or Ben Taylor, or any of these meaningless Hawkins guys you never realistically saw yourself with in the first place; but Steve was close. Close to your friends, close to your heart, inching ever nearer by the minute.

It was terrifying. But then again, he agreed to come—–and that made your stomach flutter.

Deciding you’d spent enough time making sure every last hair was in order, you took a deep breath, venturing back out to the living room. You were greeted with warm, knowing smiles.

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy rose from her seat, coming over to give your arms a comforting rub. “Really, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

You nodded, trying not to look as nervous as you felt. “Thanks, Nance.”

“It makes so much sense, doesn’t it? I mean, I really should play matchmaker more often. I’m changing lives here!” Robin shook Vickie’s thigh where her hand rested, excitedly. It made everyone chuckle.

Jonathan took another sip of his drink. “Now you’ve just gotta find someone for Ed—”

A knock at the door. Fuck. In an instant, every ounce of confidence you had flew straight out of the window. And your face must’ve shown it, because Nancy began soothing you again.

“Hey, look at me.” She whispered, and you did. “You’ve never been this nervous to see him before, right? Pretend this is just another day. Just… Friday.”

You swallowed. It definitely wasn’t just Friday anymore.

Nonetheless, you shot a weak, thankful smile at her, making your way up to the door. Usually, you’d be embarrassed to let your friends see you this way—taking deep breaths, shaking your hands to relieve some anxious energy. Right now, though, you couldn’t care less, much too preoccupied with the thought of Steve’s face. Just open it. Open the door.

So, you did.

And there he was, grinning adorably, smelling of his cologne, wearing a well-fitted sweater... Holding hands with a girl.

“Hey,” He spoke happily, though his eyes searched your face for just a moment, as if you’d let the shock slip through. “This is Brenda.”

Your whole body stiffened, knowing that the rest of the group heard him, and were now searing holes through the back of your head. Your stomach flipped over on itself, even your organs mortified.

“Hi, Brenda.” You forced a smile at the girl, as if every nerve in your body wasn’t on fire. “Come on in.”

As you turned around, you studied the expressions in the room, seeking some kind of escape. Nancy and Vickie at least tried to look normal, staring at the ground or taking a sip of their drink; Jonathan’s brow was furrowed in disbelief, and Robin’s mouth was hanging open, eyes locked on you.

You quickly walked to the couch where Nancy and Jonathan sat, just standing beside it, your fight-or-flight instinct physically unwilling to let you sit. At least Steve and Brenda would have a spot now, right?

The embarrassment was already making your eyes water.

As the two of them entered the uncomfortably silent living room, you saw his eyes scan the room, similarly to how you had—like he was searching for something. And when he didn’t find it, his eyes landed back on you, any trace of his previous smile gone.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” Brenda chirped to the group, the tension completely unnoticed by her.

You felt suffocated. Suffocated by your turtleneck, by the silence, by Brenda’s curly, blonde hair and perfectly pink lips—but mostly by Steve, who was still staring at you. You refused to look back.

“Music!” You squawked, mind numb. “We should put on some music, it’s so quiet—” You strided toward your box of cassettes, sat beside the television, and began scrambling with them. “—I’ve got Tears for Fears, or, um, oh! ABBA, everyone likes ABBA, right? Uh…”

Without you even noticing, Nancy appeared at your side, gently grabbing the tapes from your hands. “Hey, hey. I’ll pick out some music, okay?” Her voice was quiet, forehead creased in concern.

Your movements slowed. You nodded, eyes half-welled with tears. The dam was definitely about to break.

“Okay, well,” You stood up again, arms swaying slightly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “You guys sit. I’m, um… I’ll be right back.”

You spun on your heel, making your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you by leaning on it. The tears began to fall immediately, streaking your face with mascara.

You felt stupid. Stupid for ever letting Robin set this up, stupid for spending so much time making yourself presentable, when Brenda looked so effortlessly beautiful. You’d convinced yourself it would be some sort of magical night, which seemed ridiculous now. Why would Steve want you? More importantly, why would you ever let him affect you this way?

Your chest heaved, trying desperately to keep quiet. The last thing you wanted was more pity.

Soon enough, you heard a soft click from the living room, the faint sounds of Kate Bush coming through the speakers. You considered your options: hide in your room until the party was over, risk someone coming to check on you, go back out there and endure stares of sympathy, or… Leave.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you, bringing you to your feet. You went to your mirror, attempting to smear away the black marks under your eyes—it was useless, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Eddie would call it metal. So, for where you were headed, it was actually perfect.

You snatched your purse off of the dresser, the hurt morphing from sadness to anger, and marched out into the living room, making a bee-line for the front door. Everyone’s heads perked up. Your hand met the doorknob, gripping it tightly, before Steve appeared next to you.

“Hey, can you just wait a sec—where are you going?” He spoke softly, avoiding the rest of the rooms prying ears. His voice was hoarse.

You didn’t look at him. “I’m going to see a show with Eddie.”

“Can you let me explain? Please, just—”

Your head turned sharply, reddened eyes daggering through his solemn, brown ones. “I’m embarrassed, Steve. I’m…” You swallowed, fighting back any more tears. “I can’t be here right now. Can’t I just go?”

He brought a hand up, running it anxiously through his own hair. He looked dejected, and despite how much you wanted to hate him at this moment, your heart panged. It wasn’t enough to make you stay; not when Brenda was still on your couch. Not when the rest of the group felt sorry for you.

“Okay,” He finally breathed, barely audible. You started to open the door, and he softly took hold of your wrist. “Just be safe. Please.”

You looked at him, heart thrumming in your chest, eyelashes stuck together from the mixture of tears and makeup. “Have a good night. I’m… I’m sorry I ruined it.”

And with that, you were out the door, despite his attempt to say something else.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The show was an adequate distraction.

When you’d shown up at The Hideout, scouting Eddie out in the crowd, he was shocked to see you. He was even more shocked to see the state you were in—makeup destroyed, eyes puffy, a hand clinging shakily to your purse. He immediately threw an arm around you, eyes expectant for an explanation.

“He brought a girl,” you’d shouted over the music. Eddie couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder, squeezing your arm in frustration. “He’s even dumber than I thought then,” He yelled back.

Steve was dumb. Purposefully dumb? You didn’t think so, and that made it all the more difficult to stay angry.

You were thankful for Eddie more than ever. He was always great at taking your mind off of things, getting you to let loose, have fun; it may have been the worst Valentine’s Day of your life, but at least he had given it some kind of silver lining. It was almost impossible not to smile around him, especially when he was acting extra goofy, insistent on lifting your spirits.

When he drove you home, the events of the night began to set in again. You dreaded your next conversation with Steve, whenever that would happen—I’m so sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you, you could hear him saying, shoving the embarrassment deeper down your throat.

You considered never speaking to him again, just to spare yourself that feeling.

“Do you want me to come in?” Eddie laid a gentle hand on your knee, his beaten-up car parked a few feet from your door.

“No, I’m okay.” You assured him, unconvincingly, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Think I just need to wallow tonight, y’know?”

He nodded, looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry, seriously. Kind of want to kill the kid.”

That brought a small smile to your face. “Don’t tempt me, I might just give you the go-ahead.”

The two of you looked at each other, sharing a small chuckle. Eventually, you reached over, hugging him tight.

“Thank you for tonight. Really, I needed it.” You whispered, and he gave your back a comforting rub. “Anytime, you know that.”

You exited the car, already starting to wish you’d said yes to Eddie’s offer, and made your way to the door. Through the windows, you could see that most of the lights were off—everyone had gone home, thank God, though you were sure Robin and Nancy would be calling off the hook to talk about everything.

You jiggled the handle open, greeted by your dark living room, apart from the one lamp emanating warm light. And underneath it, Steve.

Sitting upright on the couch, head leaned back, arms crossed. Fast asleep.

You froze, a tightness in your chest. It was exactly what you didn’t want right now, to see him, have to talk to him. And for whatever reason, something in you was glad to find him there.

You softly shut the door behind you, sat your bag on the coffee table, and took a seat beside him. The cushion dipping under your weight caused him to stir awake: his head lulled to the side, eyes fluttering open. They widened at the sight of you.

“Hey.” His voice was gravelly from sleep, and he was quick to adjust himself to a more awake position. He cleared his throat, though it did little for his voice. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, toying with your skirt. “Did… did you stay?”

“I was worried about you.” He looked into your eyes, and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t. “And I needed to talk to you.”

“What about Brenda?”

“I took her home. Came back.”

“Look,” You started, finding the strength to avert your gaze. “I don’t… I don’t want anyone else feeling bad for me. It was Robin’s idea, and of course you don’t feel that way about me, it was really stupid of me to assume—”

“Stop.” He blurted, somewhat forcefully. You blinked at him. “Please, just stop. I fucked up tonight, really bad. When I got the invite, I thought you’d have someone with you. It just… I’m an idiot. If I wasn’t an idiot, I would’ve never brought Brenda.”

Your stomach flipped familiarly, like it did when you heard a knock at the door earlier. “She was beautiful, though.”

“She isn’t you.” His hand landed on your thigh, and his eyes darted to it for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to. You both lingered there.

When he realized you weren’t going to push it away, he continued. “If—if when you went out with Eddie… I mean, if I blew my chance, I understand.”

Blew his chance. You wondered if he could ever truly do that.

“Steve, Eddie was just cheering me up.” You couldn’t help but smile a little, putting your hand over his. “He’s not my Valentine, if that’s what you’re asking. He does kind of want you dead, though.”

“They all want me dead, trust me.” He blew air out of his lips, eyebrows raising.

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, Brenda went to the bathroom, and I got a thorough bitching out.”

You bit your lip, trying to hide the happiness that brought you. “You kind of deserved it, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He affirmed. There were a few moments of stillness, your touching hands drawing both of your attention.

“Is Brenda your Valentine?” You wondered, voice softer.

“Didn’t ask her to be.” He looked up at you, voice matching your tone. “Are you still… looking for one?”

Your eyes were locked, melting under each other's gaze. You could almost feel his breath. His free hand came up to cradle your face, thumbing across your stained cheek.

“There’s really only one I wanted.”

“Same here.” He whispered.

You quickly leaned forward, disturbing the stillness of the moment, and slotted your lips with his. He tasted like beer and strawberry chapstick, and smelled like a warm summer day—one that broke through the chill you’d been feeling all evening. Butterflies erupted inside you, fluttering in your stomach, your heart, your veins.

Your hands came up to clutch at his chest, the fabric of his sweater crinkling beneath your fingers. The kiss, which had started fervent, softened; the two of you broke apart, and he stole a peck at the corner of your mouth, foreheads resting against each other.

You both took heavy breaths, caused more by emotion than physical exertion, chests rising and falling in unison.

“I gotta make it up to you.” He breathed. You shook your head ever so slightly, a grin playing across your lips.

“Steve, you already—”

“I’ll be your Valentine every day, for as long as you let me.”

You thought it might’ve been the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Your forehead creased, trying not to let your eyes water, this time for a much better reason. As close as your faces were, you knew he noticed anyway.

“Deal?” His eyes searched your own, voice small, as if he was afraid you might say no.

You couldn’t stop a happy huff from leaving your lips, a single tear fighting its way out of the corner of your eye. “Deal.”

He beamed, pressing his lips into yours, as if he’d been awaiting the opportunity to do it again.

Steve Harrington became yours on Valentine’s Day, 1986. A Friday. A day you’d almost always ignored, until you didn’t. A day you were almost certain was going to be the worst day of your life, until it wasn’t. In fact, it might’ve been the best.

Because Steve would continue to be yours each Friday after that—and every day in between, too.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction

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