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inawickedlittletown · 2 days ago

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Who Could Ask You Be Unbroken Or Be Brave Again - BuckTommy (one-shot)

Summary: When Buck figures out that he's pregnant just a few weeks after the break-up, he has to tell Tommy. They talk. Words: 3.1k Notes: Sooooo I actually started writing this last week and I pictured a different fic entirely and yet I like to go where the journey takes me so here we are. Mpreg is a feature, but not like the most important part of this fic, though I know the fandom has taken it and run with it. The title comes from Hozier's To Noise Making Read on Ao3

If it weren’t for Maddie, Buck probably wouldn’t have figured it out. Well, he would have eventually. Probably.

When he was on the cusp of teenagehood, the nurse at school had come in to have a talk with his class. The boys and the girls were separated and Buck remembered watching a badly shot movie. She had passed out a paper to take home at the end, information for their parents. Buck didn’t remember if his parents had even bothered to read it, much less take the advice. As a consequence, when all the rest of the boys in his class got tested, Buck didn’t. Later on, it just didn’t matter because Buck wasn’t having sex with guys so what difference did it make if he was a carrier? Then, when he got together with Tommy, it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

So, he never knew that he could get pregnant.

Not until he was pregnant.

Not until he was leaning over his toilet, knees on the hard floor, stomach empty. Not until he remembered Maddie and the brie he’d baked for her and how when he’d cut a piece of the banana bread earlier the smell of the bananas had made him feel sick.

Not until he managed to make it out of the apartment and to the nearest pharmacy where he stared at the pregnancy tests until finally just grabbing four at random. He was glad the girl at the checkout didn’t say anything.

They all came back positive.

There was no denying it.

In the bathroom, he took off his t-shirt and looked down at his abdomen. There was nothing different about his body, but eventually it would change. He would round out, growing a life in the womb that Buck hadn’t even known he had. Tentatively, he touched his stomach. In that moment he realized that he hadn’t even thought about it before already knowing that he was doing it. He would have the baby. He was going to be a dad.

Tommy had left him — had left them.

He was the other dad.

Buck had to throw up.

Pregnant. He was pregnant. He was housing life, a life created out of him and Tommy…Tommy was gone. He had walked out of Buck’s life without a look back and Buck was once again the one that was left behind except that this time it wasn’t only him. His hand drifted to his abdomen. There was a baby in there.

That was when the tears began anew.

What the hell was he going to do?

Buck had cried for the better part of an hour after Tommy left. Then, he cried on Eddie’s couch and couldn’t even get the words out for why.

“He dumped me,” he’d said eventually. “Tommy dumped me.”

Then, the tears had started again.

He cried when he got home the next morning and immediately he had to talk himself out of calling Tommy.

Eddie had told him to stay busy and keep his mind off of it. To not reach out to Tommy.

So, he focused on making himself dinner that night and after the lasagna was in the oven, he decided he may as well go out and eat all his feelings. Not to mention that he really wanted brownies.

So, he found an outlet. Baking was better than crying. It was better than having to hide his phone from himself so that by the time he found it he’d be over the urge to call or text.

Buck had almost convinced himself that he could keep going and that he wouldn’t cry over Tommy again, but he was crying again. Over Tommy. Over the break up. Over the tiny life that should have brought so much joy to both of them. Not that Buck wasn’t happy…not that the idea of being a dad didn’t excite him. It was just the timing and the circumstances. Tommy wasn’t there with him and Buck…

He needed to tell him.

Tommy needed to know.

Or maybe…maybe Buck could do it on his own. He could love this baby more than enough. Tommy had already made his choice on Buck, why would he come back just because Buck was pregnant. Buck wasn’t enough for him, the future that Buck wanted and that Buck had dangled in front of himself had been shot down without his say and this was not going to change anything, not if Tommy had thought their six months together was some fun and nothing further than that.

A baby was…it was a big commitment. Eighteen years at least and it wasn’t about Buck, but the idea that Tommy might not react well to the news…

But, no, that was unfair. Tommy would at least feel the obligation to his child even if it was detached, even if it was just monetary. He would do right by the baby even if they weren’t together anymore. That…that hurt. It was like a stab right to the chest. This was not the way it was supposed to be.

He sobbed, wiped at his eyes but the tears kept coming. Maybe he didn’t tell him. Maybe he didn’t find out how Tommy would react and…

But no.

If it was the other way around and Tommy found out he was pregnant and didn’t tell Buck, Buck would never forgive him. He had to tell him.

Wiping at the last of his tears, Buck went to the kitchen to grab water.

Four positive tests. He needed to get a doctor’s appointment to confirm and then prenatal vitamins? What else? Was his apartment even an okay place in which to raise a baby? With the stairs and the balcony and how his bedroom wasn’t even really a room. And then there was his job. How long could he keep working before it was too dangerous? Was it already dangerous?

Buck thought about calling Maddie. She was pregnant herself and she could help but the thought of telling her and not Tommy. Of telling anyone but Tommy…

He had to tell him. Buck reached for his phone.

He couldn’t tell him over the phone and the thought of Tommy not picking up his call or leaving him on read or…what if he’d blocked Buck’s number? But no…Tommy wouldn’t do that.

It was a Tuesday and Tommy didn’t usually work on Tuesdays. Unless he’d changed things…unless he’d been called into a fire. It didn’t mean he’d be at home, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

So, he got shoes on, stuffed his phone and wallet in his pocket and grabbed his keys. Grabbed a few loaves out of his fridge for good measure. The remaining brownie pan too.

Buck almost talked himself out of it on the drive over, but then he was pulling into Tommy’s driveway behind his truck. He waited a few more minutes before he got out of the car and started walking to the door. He raised his hand and knocked.

Tommy had given him a key. It was still sitting next to the keys to his apartment. If this went badly, he supposed that he could give the key back. It would really be over, not that it hadn’t before. It was just that a part of Buck had hoped that if given enough time they might find each other again. It was silly and maybe it spoke to how many romcoms he and Tommy had watched together. Now…now he was pregnant and it changed everything.

He knocked again.

Heard movement from inside and then the door opened.

Tommy looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Buck,” he said.

Buck decided to ignore that. “We need to talk,” he said.

“I — yeah, sure.”

Tommy stepped aside and Buck followed him in.

“Do you…do you want a drink?” Tommy asked.

The awkward energy between them killed him. It had never been like this between them before…okay, maybe after Buck messed up their first date, but even then it hadn’t been this. Buck shook his head.

“What is all that?”

“Oh. I, uh, I started baking and…anyway, these are for you.”

Tommy took them and walked them into the kitchen. Buck followed. Nothing had changed since he’d been there last and the thought it might have and that Tommy could have moved on or something. Three weeks…it had really only been three weeks long as that felt.

“What did you want to talk about?” Tommy asked, not even looking at Buck.

How did he say it? Did he just blurt it out? On the drive over nothing had come to mind and Buck had never not known how to just say things except this time it was…it was so much harder.

“Ev—Buck?”

“I — I’m…I have some news.”

“News?”

The words got caught in his throat.

“Buck, is everything alright?”

“I’m going to…pregnant. Maddie’s pregnant.”

“Oh.” Tommy said with a confused chuckle. “You’re becoming an uncle again.”

And a dad.

Buck gulped. “Yeah. I am.”

Tommy still looked confused.

“I found out by accident. They don’t want anyone to know, but I had to tell someone. Don’t say anything.”

“Is that all?” Tommy asked, cautiously.

Buck wanted to shake his head and to tell him it wasn’t only Maddie. It was Buck too.

“We never talked about kids,” he found himself saying instead. “Among other things, but I never asked if you wanted kids. Do you?”

It felt pointed. It felt like Buck was giving himself away. Tommy seemed a little confused.

“Uh…I don’t know,” he settled on. “Never thought I would have any, but it’s not like I don’t like children. I guess I never really thought it was a real option or a deal breaker. Why are we talking about kids?”

“I’m…I don’t know. Just a thought,” Buck said. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

“You want family,” Tommy said. “You'll get another niece or nephew soon.”

“Yeah,” Buck breathed and it took everything in him not to touch his stomach. Not just a niece or nephew, a son or daughter. Tommy’s too.

“Did you…was there anything else?” Tommy asked.

“I — that is—”

“Evan?” Tommy said. “You’re…are you alright?”

He took a breath. “It doesn’t have to change anything,” he said. “I know you don’t want it to. You made that pretty clear. This isn’t like me trapping you or anything. I’m not. I just know that if it were the other way around I’d want to know and I’d want you to tell me. And no one else knows because you should be the first to know even though you kinda broke my heart there and that’s not going away. You know my fridge is full of loaves. I needed an outlet and so I started baking and I can’t seem to stop. I’m—”

“Evan, take a breath,” Tommy said.

Buck did. He took several and when he looked at Tommy again, he found concern in his gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m…well, as it turns out, I’m—” he couldn’t get the words out.

“Are you sick? What’s happening? Evan, are you alright?”

Tommy’s hand reached out to him, but fell short and drew back.

“I’m not sick,” Buck said. “That’s not…I mean, that’s not what I would call this. I’m…Tommy, I’m pregnant.”

Once the words were out, he felt lighter. His hand had drifted back down over his abdomen. Still flat, but for how long? When would he start showing? Hell, Buck didn’t even know how far along he was or anything else.

Tommy was staring at his hand and then his eyes flickered back to Buck’s face.

“Pregnant,” Tommy said.

Buck nodded.

“You’re a carrier. You never said.”

“Yeah…I didn’t know until…until now.”

Tommy inhaled a breath and Buck could see that his mind was spinning, that he maybe didn’t even know what to say or think and Buck…Buck needed to leave. He’d told him, it was what he’d come to do and that was it.

“I just wanted you to know. No obligation. No expectations. Just…that’s what’s happening. I’m pregnant and I’m going to keep it.”

Tommy didn’t say anything.

“I guess now you know. I’ll…I’ll go. See you around, Tommy.”

Buck made it to the door. He was turning the doorknob and trying to pretend that his eyes weren’t filling up with tears when he heard a gentle:

“Wait.”

And then Tommy’s hand was on his wrist and Buck turned.

Tommy’s hand left his wrist but then he was cradling Buck’s face, thumbs wiping away his tears.

“I was scared,” Tommy said.

“Scared? You? But that’s, what is there for you to be scared of? I’m the pregnant one.”

Tommy’s hands dropped from his face. “That,” he said. “You think I can’t be scared in this?” He motioned between them. “That it didn’t freak me out the moment you asked me to move in with you in the same sentence that you said you liked me for my confidence without even—”

Buck watched him. Watched the way that his shoulders were hunched and how he gulped.

“You don’t see me, Evan, and if you don’t see me…the real me and not whoever you’ve made me out to be then this was never going to work. The moment I realized it wasn’t…that it wasn’t. I did this for you and for me. And now—” Tommy’s gaze met Buck’s dead on, “now you’re pregnant.”

“I don’t see you?” Buck asked.

He stepped away from the door. He laughed and turned away from Tommy before he looked back at him.

“I see what you’ve let me see,” Buck said. “I see who you presented yourself to be and if you’re telling me now that you were lying about who you are then…then that’s—”

“It’s not what I’m saying,” Tommy broke in. “I’m saying you put me on some…on some pedestal that I don’t belong on. I’ve hurt people. Abby. Hen. Chim. Hid my sexuality to my own detriment and the detriment of others. I lied and lied and lied and…and it’s—”

Buck reached for him, grabbed his hand and made Tommy look at him. “You did it because you were protecting yourself from a world that wasn’t going to accept you. What I admire is how far you’ve come. What I admire is that you lived through it got to this side of it and can choose to be happy. Except that you don’t think you deserve it. I see you, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy said.

Buck grasped Tommy’s other hand.

“Did you know I hate the way you leave your clothes in piles instead of putting them in your hamper, the way that you always forget to put the cap back on the toothpaste. You never close a cabinet. Some of your jokes are not funny and it shouldn’t have taken six months for you to tell me about Abby. I guess I’m to blame for that too because I didn’t tell you about her either. I hate how you never talked about Gerrard with me, not really. I hate the way you always take Eddie’s side and that the two of you always make fun of me. The first sign of trouble and you run. You’re not perfect, Thomas. But you know what, I love you anyway.”

The silence that fell between them lasted a few beats. They couldn’t look away from each other and there were tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes.

“You scare me,” Tommy said, voice rough. “And I’ve been kicking myself since that night but I didn’t know…I couldn’t call or text because I walked away and I thought it was for the best. I’m broken, Evan, and if you ever saw that and didn’t — didn’t—” Tommy’s voice broke.

“I love you,” Buck said. “And you’re not broken, because if you are then I am too.”

Tommy actually let out a sob and his face crumpled. Buck had never seen him like that. He’d seen him worried and smiling and confused. He’d seen the way that his lips turned down that night when they broke up, but he’d never seen this. The way that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepened and his mouth was so turned down and how red it made his skin.

Buck reached for him, pulled Tommy’s face down to his neck. He rubbed at his back and then ran a hand through his hair and Tommy sobbed and wet his shoulder with his tears and Buck held him and cried his own tears. It felt amazing to actually have Tommy in his arms, though the rest of it…the tears and the sobs was new.

There was no knowing how long they stood there, until Tommy pulled back, wiping at his face with one hand. He didn’t go far, though Buck could tell that maybe he wanted to. When he finally looked at Buck, he looked a little more put together.

“You’re pregnant,” he said.

Tommy’s hand fell to Buck’s abdomen. There was nothing to feel there yet. They both knew that, but Buck put his hand over Tommy’s.

“I am,” Buck said. “It doesn’t have to change anything.”

Tommy let out a strangled laugh. “It’s going to change some things. Evan, you’re going to be the best dad.”

“So are you,” Buck said and inhaled. “Right? I mean, you don’t have to be if you don’t—”

“I want to be,” Tommy said. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at it, it’s not like I had a great example. What I do know is that I am so in love with you and there is no way I’m letting you do this on your own. No way that I am walking away from you or this baby.”

Buck kissed him and Tommy responded at once, hungrily and like he was hoping to impart upon Buck every bit of his love through that kiss.

They probably had a lot more to talk about. So much to figure out about them and about the baby. Buck could see more tears and more arguments, but if there was one thing that he could count on, it was that they would make it through it. They’d made it through this break up already any other hurdles or hardships could be dealt with.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #911 abc #tommy kinard #evan buckley #mpreg #tevan #kinley #911 fic #buck x tommy

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brunettemarionette · 3 days ago

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𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

↠ female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size.

a/n: pictures made by me, spoilers I guess if you haven't watched Deadpool? No warnings just fluff and dumbassery.

Some time after Deadpool & Wolverine, they get back together, and you're a total surprise for them despite the two wanting a baby before Vanessa died.

"So... are we having a Sonny or a Cher?"

Not being called either of those names and definitely not being called anything 'strippery'... or Wade Jr, Wada, Darth Wader and definitely not Todd, either.

No matter how much Wade worried about being like his dad, all that went out the window when you were actually born.

"I've only had a daughter for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself... come back to life fuck shit up and die again. Rinse and repeat."

Wade leaving you with Blind Al as a babysitter (sometimes she wouldn't even realize you're there).

"Wade, you can't just leave the baby with a blind person." *Surprise Pikachu Deadpool * "...ableist..."

I feel like Wade, at some point, either dropped you or you fell when you were a kid, but it's for the best since that's how he and Vanessa found out that you're a chip off the ole' block when you heal super fast.

Despite what Vanessa thought when they first agreed to make a baby, they did, in fact, make a 'super baby.'

Always following your 'Uncle' Logan around no matter how much he tries to get rid of you.

"'Babypool' go-... play or something, okay kid?"

Growing up surrounded by mutants means you never think you're different or a freak but instead becoming very protective of your mom. After a talk with your dad about your mom dying, you realize just how fragile people are.

Surprisingly, Wade makes a great girl dad. He does the tea party thing and, of his own accord, puts on the dress and clip earrings; he serves tea to the plush bears and scoffs when others mock him.

"Clearly, you people have no class."

As you got older, you started to look more like your mom, but no matter what situation you found yourself in, you could stop the snark, so much so that it earned you the nickname 'Mini mouth' – Wade was so proud.

Wade took you to the roof of the building to 'bond,' which Vanessa knew was him teaching you how to fight – something she was okay with until you both fell off the roof... more than once.

Them both knowing that despite wanting to give you a normal childhood and life you were going to be some kind or 'hero/antihero'. So they roll with the punches, and Wade makes sure you know exactly what you need to know about it.

"No, spermpool, red is my color. Just ask your mom when we-"

"Ew, Dad... and don't call me that."

On that note, investing in headphones was something you picked up the older you got, asking the store which ones cancel noise the best and then buying earbuds to go with them.

"Minipool, Girlpool, not-as-good-deadpool, Wishpool... ow... okay! We'll think of a better name for you!"

Despite you and your dad both being mercs who have been killed or hurt in every which way, your mom still rules the house. That's how you two find your katanas confiscated when you started playing 'Star Wars' during Thanksgiving.

Your dad makes a lot of Batman and Robin jokes when you're working together, only after he made a weird Batman and Catwoman joke until he realized why that was gross. So you became his Robin.

For someone so laid back about love and sex, Wade is very protective when it comes to you. Seeing the bad guys flirt with you, his deadpan snark reaches a few levels higher than his norm – it doesn't help when your mom hypes up your catsuit.

"I told you we should have gotten her a costume like what the lady three floors down wears."

“Red, that's a Muumuu.”

Being impulsive is like an inherited trait from both of them, which just makes up a chaotic household, and yet you all love every minute of it.

"One of the best things my dad ever gave me, not by choice, are these two gold-plated 50 caliber desert eagle pistoleros...."

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀

The Nights by Avicii

GDFR by Flo Rida

X gon' give it to ya by DMX

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Chaotic parents x Inherited Chaos (you)

Matching Family Energy

Dumbasses (wade, you) x Oh, those are my dumbasses (vanessa)

#Marvel #MCU #deadpool and wolverine #Deadpool #x female reader #x daughter!reader #deadpool x daughter!reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x reader #Deadpool's daughter #x platonic reader #reader insert #imagines #headcanons #vanessa carlysle #deadpool headcanons #brunettemarionette

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 day ago

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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. . ."

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weneededthat · 3 months ago

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My first cosplay at Dragon Con!

#dragoncon #dragon con #dragon con 2024 #Misty #as low effort as it is lol #I didn’t have any red shoes but I already owned the shorts #ordered the shirt and suspenders online #I know it was last weekend but I finally have the energy to post lol #I always love telling people that I love their cosplays but I finally got to be on the other side!#i got a lot of compliments it was very fun #one teenager told me I was the best Misty he’d seen all weekend???#different guy actually asked me for pictures??#(he sent them to me after‚ that’s the second picture)#will totally wear this exact outfit again at least once next year #Maddie speaks

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stuck-in-the-ghost-zone · 1 year ago

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what kind of cratures do you think the trigun gang would be?

CREATURES IN GENERAL OR SEA CREATURES. BECAUSE MY FRIEND MONTY N I WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT TRIGUN FURSONAS THE OTHER DAY. but i am the sea creature guy at heart so im gonns give u those i hope that is ok 😌 there are many benefits to being a marine biologist.

Vash: he is... so very shark coded to me. everyone looks at him and sees a dangerous killing machine. frequently covered in scars. do u see the connection here. he is specifically a thresher shark to me because of the whole sharpshooter thing and also the sad sad puppydog eyes 💙

Wolfwood: i am torn between two different types of eels for him. giant morays are more aesthetically pleasing but personally i have to go with a wolf eel both for the name and because ive worked with these guys before and theyre sooooo cool so im biased

Meryl: not technically a sea creature because she is just so bird coded to me. White-Tailed Tropicbird

Milly: is it cheating to have two cephalopods on this list. because i think i really want to say giant pacific octopus for milly. either that or a whale shark 💙 yes those are two completely different animals no i will not be taking criticism at this time

bonus Knives because i love him and i feel the most strongly about this one:

BOBTAIL SQUID.

... and also a bristle worm . for what i hope are obvious reasons

#NORMALLY THOUGH meryl is an egyptian plover #shes sooooo so very much an egyptian plover. hold on i made a post about that the other day ill reblog it again for u :] hehe #i worked at an aquarium last year and every time we would pull a bristleworm out of one of our tanks id be like ohhh my god its knives.....#i love every opportunity to push my sea creature knives agenda. hes so sea creature to me. hes so marine biologist to me.#OH MY GOD ALSO LIVIO. LIVIO IS A GOLIATH GROUPER TO ME . <3 #side note also . have you ever seen that picture of a hermit crab using a human skull as a shell #(<< the image is fake its photoshopped BUT)#thats legato. to me. except with a blueleg hermit crab. he is a blue leg hermit crab with a human skull for a shell #which is bullshit because i dont think legato deserves something that cool but alas it is unfortunately perfect for him #(<< this is /j i think legato is a cool and interesting character #i just think he has a punchable face and like 2 pretend i hate his guts cause its funny)#HI !!!! THANK U FOR GIVI G ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABT SEA CREATURES ILY <3333 #asks #madnessmadness #sorry if u meant like... actual land creatures. unfortunately i am the fish guy forever <3 #YES I REALIZE VASH AND KNIVES ARE TWO TOTALLY DIFFERENT CREATURES AND THAT MAKES NO SENSE BC THEYRE TWINS #BUT LIKE. I FEEL SO STRONGLY ABOUT BOTH OF THOSE THINGS #i could be persuaded to make knives a shark if needed bc there are so many cool shark species i could assign to him #but like. hes just soooo bobtail squid coded to me ive been saying that since i first saw his fuckin. snuggie in tristamp

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kowabungadoodles · 1 year ago

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How to spot a (heart wrenching sad cat) Charity Scam

So I've been get a lot of requests for money in my askbox lately, from users I have never seen before! Usually sad cats, sometimes gender affirming medical bills, a queer person being made homeless etc etc... and guess what? None of them are real! It's scammers who have learned how to work tumblr's userbase and prey on our general sense of community and charity.

Here it is, so sad! So tragic! But let's note a few things:

It's generic. They don't know me, I don't know them. it's addressed to 'friend', no use of nicknames or usernames.

Even the cat and the problem are generic 'little kitty' who has 'urgent needs'. This is not how real people talk, this is because this scam is being used over and over with different accounts a different 'cats'.

Praying (uh huh.)

Asking you to reply privately- This is so people don't spot the scam and point it out the mark and because if too many people posted replies to the same message it would beome really obvious that this is a scam. If they're looking for 'boosts' so badly, then why do they need you to reply privately?

Now that I'm suspicious, let's investigate.

Sent me an ask and then followed me! Sounds like they're just hitting up anyone and everyone, but even more likely they have a list they're working from.

(I get so many, I'm probably on a mail-out list a mile long, just being hit up for cash. Likely I fell for one of these once and got my name added to every scam list for miles, but oh well.)

So let's see if they're a bot or a real person!

The blog looks genuine enough, they've got a bio, a fandom etc. And it says they're an artist!

And of course there's that sad cat post, pinned right to the top, so I don't have to look any further through the blog for verification... Looks super legit, pics of the cat, pics of the bill... of course anyone can print out a bill and take a picture of it...

As I do scroll futher, it's full of reblogs making this look like an active user. So how can I tell it's not genuine?

Well, if they're an artist they probably post right? Doodles? Pictures? Let's have a look at their origional posts.

The fastest way to do this is by using an outside tool like Original Post Finder.

just type in the suspicious username and go...

Voila! As suspected, the only post this bot account has ever made is Sad Cat Post.

Confirmed: Scam. Do not give your money to these guys, it looks so real but they're just here to make you feel like a bad person for not handing over everything you can. Charity is wonderful, supporting friends is wonderful, but tbh save it for people you actually know irl/ mutuals you have an actual relationship with. Don't believe any rando who comes knocking!

Love and kisses, stay safe out there.

#scam #tumblr scam #I'm putting this in all the same tags the scam post uses #kitty mom #emergency #catblr #kitty help

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screamingay · 1 year ago

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god that was an awful shift i hate how corporate let us hire more people and then as soon as we put them on the schedule they decided having one more minimum wage server per day (for first shift only!!!) was too much for The Budget. i had to bargain to get someone else to come in today and help me out and it was STILL hell.. rant incoming in the tags

#we're back to 2 ppl on first shift but the new guy cant actually handle floor or dishes on his own so it's basically 1 person #plus someone following behind them to help a bit #apparently they used to have disabled workers as 'interns' just gettimg unpaid experience which is awful but at least #it meant they could actually schedule 2 other people. but i guess they got shit for not paying disabled workers #which i get. but since this new guy makes minimum wage too it means they wont let us schedule another person for first shift #which we desperately need when it's just like. me and him. in an ideal world he would be paid and getting work experience and there would #still be enough people to do the job fully #also all morning i was so scared the safety inspector would pop in bc i was told he would be. so i double checked all the possible hazards #before we opened and he literally stepped into the dining room. took a picture of it on a digital camera. then left #he didnt even come in the kitchen!! christ #but i was still stressed after that and all through lunch bc now residents' families can come in and eat like they used to before covid #and we had 2 of them today and if we fuck it up for them they can complain to corporate and im not used to running a real restaurant!!#we have to act like it's a real restaurant even tho we arent given the same resources or allowances and it's so frustrating #tbh today wouldve been 10 times easier with any other cook bc we had the fucking worst one here today. she gets frustrated when anyone asks #her for anything and she goes on rants about how bad all the other cooks are and she puts WAY too much strain on the dishwasher #using unnecessary dishes and making them wash things she could just rinse herself in the back. AND she's always telling me how to do by job #my job #and what i should do differently! it's distracting!! and makes everything harder bc she will fr just make up rules and treat u like shit if #u ignore her and do it the easier or better way #her home life sucks and she takes it out on all of us all the time. get a divorce and move to the city like you really want #it'll make everyone so much happier #(including you)#i need a new job so bad i get paid nothing to do like 4 jobs at once and im always on a time crunch and it's been absolutely killing my bac #and shoulders and feet #and joie de vivre lmao #if i get a new reliable car soon i could probably make more driving for fucking grubhub #i didnt even eat at work today. almost 8 hours straight of running my ass around the kitchen in my Shoes For Crews black sneakers #and i ate literally One piece of french toast at the very beginning #plus i came in already sick of everything bc the stupid parking garage app i have to use now malfunctioned and wouldnt let me out #bc it didnt have my entrance to the garage last night logged for some reason

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witchywithwhiskey · 6 days ago

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another man’s marks

pairing: toxic!bucky barnes x toxic!female reader

summary: you're texting with your situationship when he asks for a nude photo—but you're covered in marks left by another man. wanting to see what he'll do, you send a photo of yourself, and you're rewarded with a very torturous and enjoyable reaction.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), established situationship, smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering (f receiving), masturbation (m), come play, bdsm elements, a lot of biting and marking, orgasm delay, choking, some breath play, some pain play, some dacryphilia, dirty talk, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pet names (baby), begging, teasing, some aftercare, taking and sending nude photos, possessive behavior, toxic behavior, jealousy, referenced but not shown situationship between reader and john walker, very anti-john walker behavior

word count: 7.3k

a/n: so this post came across my dash and i had the thought 'ok but what if you sent a situationship a picture covered in another man's marks?' and i started thinking about how toxic situationship bucky might react and then i wrote the first draft of this fic very quickly 🤭 i actually really love toxic bucky but i'm a little nervous to share this because i just want you all to love him as much as i do 🥺 (and, actually, he's not as toxic as i originally intended but y'know what, that's ok i think). i hope y'all enjoy ♡

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

Let me see your tits, baby.

The text message drew a huff of noise from you, one that was half laugh, half scoff. You were laying in bed, already wearing your pajamas—an oversized tee and panties—and catching up with your situationship, Bucky Barnes, before you went to sleep.

His request wasn’t entirely out of the blue. After asking how your day was, Bucky had started complaining about his day, and you’d known the man long enough to know those kinds of conversations often led to him asking you to send a photo of yourself—though he usually wanted a picture of what panties you were wearing.

Most of the time, you didn’t hesitate to take a picture to send to him. But that time, you paused.

You liked Bucky. You liked talking to him and hearing about his day, and when you were together, you had fun. Plus, you liked sending photos of yourself to him, and you enjoyed the fact that he wanted to see your body when he wasn’t with you. It stroked your ego when he asked for a photo, and he always responded with filthy praise that turned you on.

But that particular night, you had a problem preventing you from simply taking a photo. And, really, the problem was partly to blame on Bucky.

From the beginning, he’d said he didn’t do relationships, he’d told you he wasn’t ready to commit to just one person. He’d been clear and up front about what he wanted, and it was nothing more than a situationship, which was fine with you. You liked him, but you weren’t going to beg for more.

But you’d also decided that if he wasn’t going to commit to you, then you certainly weren’t going to clear out your roster just for him. You weren’t going to be one of those girls sitting at home pining away for some guy. Not even Bucky Barnes.

Which, in a long, winding way, led to your current predicament.

After all, there was a difference between Bucky being vaguely aware you were still hooking up with other guys—since you occasionally referenced your roster—and him seeing the evidence of it. And you had to wonder how he’d react if you took a picture of your tits in the state they were that evening…

It had only been about a day since your last hookup, and your mind wandered to the night before. You’d met up with one of the other guys on your roster, John Walker, and had a decently enjoyable dick appointment. You hadn’t expected Bucky or any of the other men on your roster to ask for pics, so you’d let John do what he wanted to your body.

If there were two things you knew about John Walker, it was that he and Bucky hated each other, and he loved your tits. John loved playing with them, he loved sucking on them, and he loved leaving hickeys all over them. Which he’d done the night before—and then proceeded to give you a not very satisfying orgasm.

Sure, it’d done the trick in the moment, but not even 24 hours later, you were already restless again, your body needing a proper release, which you knew Bucky could give you. But you weren’t planning to see Bucky for at least a couple days, not until the evidence of your hookup with John had faded.

Lifting your shirt, you looked at John’s handiwork. Your tits were dotted all over with at least a dozen tiny little love bites, and your body warmed as you remembered the knife-edged pleasure that came along with each little mark. They were so recent, the bruises were still reddish, not having yet fully faded to a dark purple.

As you looked at them, you had a devious thought—what would Bucky do if he saw John’s marks on your body? Would he blow you off, stop talking to you, maybe even ghost you? Or would he need to see you so badly that he’d come over to your apartment? Would he fuck you and give you the release you needed?

Thinking through your options, you knew it would be the kind, respectful thing to send Bucky an older photo, one of your tits when they were entirely unblemished. You had plenty of photos like that on your phone—and Bucky probably wouldn’t even notice if you sent him the same photo twice.

Or… You could send Bucky a photo of your tits covered in another man’s hickeys. You could, if he asked, tell him exactly who had given you all those hickeys. And then, you could see what Bucky would do about it.

A wicked smile crept across your face as you came to a decision.

Lifting your shirt again, you arched your body toward the light in your room, making sure the marks were clearly visible on your skin, then you snapped a photo of your tits. Before you could talk yourself out of the idea that was probably toxic and definitely a little mean, you sent the photo to Bucky.

His reply was almost instantaneous.

Who the fuck did that to you.

You bit back your mischievous giggle, even if you were alone in your room and there was no one to hear the evil way you wanted to cackle at Bucky’s response. Excited thrills raced through your veins, warmth blooming between your thighs at the anger laced in his text message.

You knew you’d be pushing him further toward anger by answering his question—you knew how much Bucky and John hated each other—but he’d asked. And besides, you were hoping he’d take out all that anger on your body in the most delicious of ways. So you sent a simple response.

John Walker.

You waited for Bucky’s response.

And waited.

But as the minutes ticked by and Bucky didn’t text back, your heart sank more and more, and the delighted smile on your face flattened into a frown. You began to think Bucky might actually be ghosting you.

For only a moment, you let yourself feel disappointed at the way your phone didn’t light up with another text from your situationship, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be sad over a man like Bucky Barnes. Even if he fucked you way better than John Walker or any of the other guys on your roster. Even if you liked him more than any of the other guys you’d been with.

Hauling yourself up from your bed, you went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth and washing your face while listening to music. It wasn’t until you were about to slip into bed and go to sleep that your phone buzzed with a new text message.

Your heart lept into your throat when you saw it was Bucky and you scrambled to read his response, eager to know what had taken him so long. Your breath caught in your throat and excitement buzzed wildly through your veins when you saw what he’d written.

I’m outside. Open your door.

A shiver of anticipation zipped down your spine as you bounded out of bed, an ecstatic grin spreading across your face at the realization that you’d got what you wanted—Bucky was at your apartment. And he was going to do something about the photo you’d sent him.

It took all your self control not to run to your apartment door and fling it open excitedly to greet Bucky. Instead, you forced yourself to take your sweet time padding to the door, your movements deliberately lazy as you unlocked it and swung it open.

Bucky Barnes loomed on the other side, his head hanging between stiff arms, his hands braced on either edge of the frame like he was holding himself back from kicking down your door. His broad shoulders were bunched up, his short, brown hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. His chest was heaving as he breathed harshly.

When he lifted his head, the stubborn possessiveness in his darkened blue eyes slashed right through to your heart. He’d never looked at you that way before, and you had the terrible, fleeting thought that you could get used to being the only girl Bucky looked at so possessively.

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other. Then, Bucky stalked forward, crowding you into your apartment and gathering you up in his strong arms while he kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a rough slam that had your pulse skittering in your veins, your heart already pounding in your chest as Bucky crushed you in his arms.

His gaze held yours and there was something about the emotions swirling his eyes, a mixture of uncompromising possessiveness and lustful determination, that felt dangerous. Not to your body, but to your heart.

“You got a lotta nerve sending me a picture with another man’s marks on you,” Bucky growled as he walked you backward toward your bedroom, his hands groping your hips and ass like every inch of your body belonged to him. “You weren’t trying to make me jealous, were you, baby?”

His words were a furious hiss that he punctuated by ducking down and snapping his teeth at your plump lower lip, biting you roughly enough to wring a gasp from your lungs. Between your thighs, you could feel your pulse pumping needily, your body aching for so much more of Bucky’s rough treatment even as you forced yourself not to cower and submit like you wanted.

Pushing against Bucky’s shoulders until he leaned back and you could catch his eye, you quirked an eyebrow at him in a dry expression of amusement.

“You’re a big boy, Bucky,” you said, before pausing to run your tongue along your lower lip, feeling the tender spot he’d bitten. Dark satisfaction swirled in your chest, but you made yourself shrug indifferently. “And I’m not your girlfriend—so if you’re jealous, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“You let him mark you,” Bucky snarled, an accusation in his tone as he stared deep into your eyes.

For a moment—just a brief moment—you saw a hurt look in Bucky’s gaze, and it pricked at something deep in your heart. Something you refused to look at or examine, especially not with Bucky standing right in front of you. You didn’t want to think about the fact that Bucky might’ve been hurt by your actions, or that you cared about his feelings enough to want to apologize.

But you supposed you could take pity on him. You’d tormented him enough for one night.

“Yeah,” you said, cocking your head to the side, a sly smirk curving your lips. “And what are you gonna do about it, daddy?” You practically purred the final word, knowing how Bucky would react to it.

Just like that, the hurt vanished from Bucky’s expression and heat sparked in his icy blue eyes, a menacing smile pulling across his face.

“You wanna see what I’m gonna do about it?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Oh, baby, you’re not fucking ready for what I’m gonna do to your pretty little slutty body.”

Bucky crowded into you, pushing you backward until your legs hit your bed, and then he was shoving you down to the soft blankets. You crawled backward into the center of the bed while Bucky toed out of his shoes and took off his jacket, leaving him in only a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

Once he’d tossed his jacket somewhere in your room, he didn’t waste anymore time, prowling onto the bed and using his hands to push up the hem of your oversized tee. His head fell to your body, his teeth nipping harshly at your soft belly to make you squeal and squirm as he worked his way up. He delivered the same treatment to the curves of your brests and the delicate skin of your collarbone.

When his face finally hovered above yours, his breathing was harsh and his expression was filled with a determination so stubborn, you knew you were going to have a long night while Bucky showed you why you shouldn’t let another man mark your body.

“You’re not leaving this bed until you’ve got so many of my fucking marks on your body that you won’t even think about sending nudes to anyone else,” Bucky growled, tugging off your tee, pushing your legs open so he could settle between them, and descending on your tits.

He found the first of John’s marks and sank his teeth into the skin around it, sucking hard on the already aching bruise. The spot gave a little twinge of pain from Bucky’s rough treatment, but it only mixed deliciously with the pleasure he was dragging from your body, and your fingers threaded into his hair, clinging to him while he sucked on your skin.

Bucky worked the reddish-purple blemish relentlessly with his mouth and teeth until it was bright again, and so much larger than the mark John had left. Then, when he was done, Bucky moved on to the next hickey, scraping his teeth over the bruise and wringing a helpless cry from your lips before he sucked the curve of your tit into his mouth.

It went on like that for you didn’t know how long, Bucky working methodically down and across your chest, sucking and biting every bruise John had left behind on your body until each one was replaced with a new, bigger mark.

If you begged Bucky for more—or tried to push his furious mouth down toward your pussy, which was throbbing almost painfully with need—he’d simply narrow his eyes at you, giving you a look like you’d known exactly what you were getting yourself into when you’d sent that photo to him. Then he’d work his mouth even harder, even more roughly against your body, until you were tossing your head back into your pillows and moaning your pleasure.

By the time he was done, you were nothing more than a whimpering, pleading mess beneath him. Your eyes were filled with tears of desperation, and your inner thighs were sticky with the sheer amount of desire soaking your panties and coating your trembling flesh.

“Daddy, please,” you begged on a sob, shoving at Bucky’s shoulders to get his attention as he roughly kissed a spot in the valley between your tits, licking and sucking a new hickey into your skin.

At the sound of your ragged voice, Bucky lifted his head, but you could already tell by the determined glint in his eye and the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted just yet.

“Hush, baby,” he rasped in a dark, patronizing tone, lowering his mouth back to your chest and sucking on the hickey he’d just left. “Daddy’s just getting started marking your beautiful body with all the pretty little bruises I want.” His voice was a rough growl that reverberated beneath your skin.

Between your thighs, you could feel more of your desire trickling into your panties, which were already soaked all the way through and sticking to your clammy skin. A whine worked its way up your throat and spilled from your lips before you could stop it, your legs squirming around Bucky’s sides, trying to grind your cunt against his body but unable to get the angle right.

While you wriggled frustratedly, Bucky paid you no mind, shifting down your body as he picked a spot for his next mark. When his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your belly, you cried out, arching up off the bed and spreading your thighs wider to make room for Bucky’s broad shoulders.

Your fingers twisted in his soft brown hair, trying to push his head down further, until it was between your thighs, whimpering a soft sob of, “Bucky, please.”

But Bucky was having none of it. Despite your pleading and protests, he took his time, only peeling your panties away from your soppy wet cunt after taking his time leaving a trail of hickeys on your belly.

When he saw how wet you were, Bucky chuckled and murmured, “Such a messy little slut, baby.”

He’d said the words fondly and, if you weren’t mistaken, there was affection in the curve of his smile that had you feeling something you didn’t want to look at too closely. But your treacherous heart beat a little harder all the same.

Then his words sank into your lust-soaked mind and heat bloomed in your face at the gentle degradation. But what little shame you could conjure up only mixed with the burning of your desire as you stared down into Bucky’s darkened eyes, holding his gaze while he took off your panties and tossed them somewhere in your room.

He turned his focus back to the juncture of your thighs, shoving your legs wide open and smirking when you let out a helpless little moan at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your heated, dripping cunt. You were so worked up, you could feel your inner muscles clenching around nothing, needing to be filled with something.

“Your pussy’s winking at me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, laughter in his voice as he spread your pussy open with his fingers. You could feel it, your body winking at the man between your thighs like you were begging him to slide inside you—his fingers or his cock, you didn’t care. “She wants me bad, doesn’t she, baby?”

Bucky’s taunting words had you covering your face and letting out a low, tortured groan even as your hips twitched, your body yearning desperately to be filled, to be fucked. “Bucky,” you whined, drawing out his name pitifully as your hips bucked into his hands, seeking more of his touch.

But Bucky didn’t oblige your body’s request. His hands skimmed away from your pussy and along your thighs to hold you behind your knees, pushing your legs up to your chest so you were bared fully to his heated gaze. When you peeked out from between your fingers, you saw him staring hungrily down at your cunt, but at your movement, his gaze flicked up and caught yours.

“Do ya want me that bad, baby?” Bucky purred, ducking down to nuzzle his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh—so close to where you needed him, but still too far away. On instinct, your hips bucked upward, trying to press your pussy against Bucky’s face, but he held you down, grinning as he went on. “Ya want daddy’s fat cock to pound into your cute little cunt, huh, baby—want it hard and rough so you’ll be feeling me in your pretty pussy for days?”

“Oh god yes—yes, please, Bucky—daddy, please, I need your cock,” you babbled desperately, your hips squirming as you humped the empty air, seeking any part of Bucky that you could grind your aching cunt against. You didn’t care if it was his mouth or his cheek or his shoulder, you needed something.

Instead of giving you that, though, Bucky turned his face and sank his teeth deep into your thigh, hard enough that your pussy pulsed violently and you thought you were going to cum. But you didn’t.

Once the blinding sensation of pain and pleasure passed, you knew you wouldn’t manage to tip over the edge just from Bucky’s teasing. You weren’t going to cum until he finally paid attention to your pussy, and somehow you suspected Bucky knew that.

“Tell me how bad you want me,” he growled, sucking on your skin and beginning to leave a new mark on your inner thigh. His gaze was locked on yours as he stared up your body, past your heaving chest that was already littered with his marks, commanding you with the stubborn, possessive look in his eyes to do as he said.

“Want you so bad, daddy,” you cried, your whole body trembling like a leaf in a bitter autumn wind. Tears of frustration and need were pooling in your eyes again and you knew that if Bucky kept edging you for much longer, they were going to spill down your cheeks. “Want you more than anything—anything—please just fuck me!”

Bucky’s eyes glittered, the possessiveness is his gaze deepening and turning into something feral as he stared up your body. Finally, his mouth pulled away from your quivering thigh—after he placed one last affectionate kiss on the mark he’d left.

“Tell me you want me more than John fucking Walker,” he spit out, shifting his head to your other thigh and sinking his teeth into your soft flesh as he held you pinned to your bed with his thick biceps wrapped around your legs.

Your heart fluttered in your chest and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to get such a reaction out of Bucky when you’d sent him that picture of your tits with John’s marks all over them. But you also couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. Not when he was looking at you like you were his while he sucked yet another mark into your skin.

“I want you so much more than him,” you murmured. “I want your marks on me, I want your cock and your cum in me—I want you, Bucky.”

The words tumbled from your lips—the ones Bucky had demanded—and you were more than a little surprised by the vehemence in your voice, and how easy it was to admit you wanted Bucky more than John.

Sure, you’d known he was a better fuck than John, but things with Bucky felt right in a way they didn’t with any of the other men on your roster. Like the two of you fit together somehow.

And that scared you. It scared you enough that you rushed on, forcing yourself to raise an eyebrow at Bucky and muster a dry tone as you asked, “Is that what you wanted to hear?” You could detect the hitch of emotion beneath the taunting tone of your voice, but with any luck, Bucky wouldn’t.

Thankfully, he seemed not to notice, responding to your words by growling into the soft flesh of your thigh, his eyes narrowing into a glare. He gave the hickey he’d sucked into your skin one last pull, then pushed himself up.

Before you could beg again for him to fuck you, Bucky roughly grabbed your hips and flipped you over. His teeth sank so hard into the plush curve of your ass, you screeched into your pillows. There was more pain than pleasure that time, but Bucky knew the edge you liked to walk and he didn’t give you more than you could handle.

As it was, even more wetness flooded between your thighs and you writhed beneath Bucky’s big body, all the small stinging aches of the marks he’d left blending with the pulsing throb of need coursing through your veins. It was enough to break the damn of your tears and you sobbed into your pillows.

“Bucky, please, please, I need your dick,” you cried, straining your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

Bucky’s dark blue eyes were narrowed into slits and when he finally pulled his teeth from your ass, he continued glowering at you, looking grumpy and almost entirely unbothered by your pleas. You knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected, though, because his cock twitched against your thigh when he saw your tear-stained face.

“Tell me you won’t do it again and I might consider giving you some dick,” he growled, holding your gaze as he ducked down to lick and soothe the bite mark he’d left on your asscheek.

“I won’t send you another picture covered in John’s marks, I promise,” you rushed to say, arching your back and whining. Your body was moving on its own, trying to present your pussy to Bucky, but he only scraped his teeth over the mark he’d left in your skin.

“Not good enough,” Bucky grumbled, shifting to your other cheek and sinking his teeth into your ass, giving you another bite mark. When you hissed at the pain, Bucky relented, stroking his tongue over the spot as he sucked on your skin. “No one else gets to mark you but me.”

You had to look away to hide the way your eyes rolled at that demand. Bucky wouldn’t commit to you, but he wanted you to promise you wouldn’t let another man mark you. Fucking men. You glared into your pillows, not saying anything and hoping he’d drop it if you didn’t respond.

He didn’t.

“Say it, baby,” Bucky growled, leaning to the side and slapping your ass. He managed to hit the exact spot he’d bitten, which was tender from his teeth and mouth, making you cry out. “Say I’m the only one allowed to mark you.”

“Men who aren’t my boyfriend don’t get to make demands like that, James,” you snarled, turning to glare at him over your shoulder.

The two of you glared at each other for a long minute. You knew Bucky could be stubborn, but you could be much more stubborn when you wanted to be—and you fucking wanted to right then. If Bucky thought you were going to let him dictate what you could or couldn’t do with other men while he refused to commit, he had another thing coming.

Slowly, Bucky shifted up onto his hands, climbing up your body with the languid movements of a predator until his bigger form covered your smaller one.

Still, you glared at each other.

His hand pushed his sweatpants down until his cock bounced free, the stiff length slapping your ass lightly. His precum immediately started leaking into the valley between your cheeks, and your pussy pulsed in desire.

Still, you glared at each other.

“Say it, or you’re not getting my dick,” Bucky rumbled obstinately, pushing his stiff length between your thighs to drag against your dripping wet slit.

You sucked in a sharp breath and arched your back, giving him more of your pussy to rub against—but that didn’t mean you were going to submit to his ridiculous demand. And he wasn’t going to turn you into a liar.

“Say you’re my boyfriend, or you’re not getting my pussy, daddy,” you retorted, putting as much mocking sarcasm into the nickname as you could manage.

Bucky’s eyes flashed with so much annoyance, you couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that curled your lips, which only made his face contort in even more frustration.

His hand reached between your thighs, pressing his cock deep into your slippery folds until the head caught at your tight hole. But he didn’t push inside. Instead, he let the tip slide through your folds to grind against your clit.

Need and desire pounded an unceasing drumbeat beneath your skin, your hands curling into fists in your blankets as you bit back a desperate moan. But you didn’t let your face go slack with pleasure, you kept right on glaring at Bucky over your shoulder, even as he repeated the motion, teasing your tight little pussy with the head of his big cock.

Finally, something in Bucky snapped and he ducked down, capturing your mouth in a savage kiss, his lips and teeth attacking yours until both of you were breathless with need. You were practically vibrating with it beneath Bucky’s big body, and even his arms were trembling when you blinked your eyes open as he pulled away.

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, baby,” Bucky rumbled, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle deliciously in your core. As he spoke, he tilted his hips just the right amount and pushed the head of his cock into your dripping hole, making both of you groan in pleasure.

“Right back at ya, daddy,” you quipped at him, your voice embarrassingly breathless as you clung to the blankets of your bed and arched your spine, pushing back into Bucky as he pressed forward.

It took one long, glorious moment for Bucky to sink the full length of his cock inside your drenched, sopping wet pussy, and you nearly blacked out at how good it felt after so long of his teasing torture.

He was bigger and thicker than any man you’d ever been with—though you’d never in a million years admit that to him—and it was always a little overwhelming when he first slid inside. But you loved it. You loved the way your body stretched to fit him, the way you could feel your pussy wrapped so snugly around his thick length. You loved the way you could feel him throb and twitch inside you, especially when he was close to cumming.

And you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside your tight hole that he was already close. That was good, because after all his teasing had worked you up, you didn’t think you were going to last long anyway.

Bucky gave you a moment to adjust to his size while he yanked his t-shirt over his head. Then he was pressing his bare chest to your back and pushing you deeper into the soft blankets of your bed until you lay prone beneath his strong body.

Only then did he pull his hips back, making you feel every delicious inch of his thick cock, before slamming inside again. Wrapping his arm underneath your neck, he tucked his bicep beneath your chin and held you pinned to his chest, forcing you to arch your spine more and feel the way his hips clapped against your ass as he pounded into you.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, baby,” Bucky growled in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “You’re daddy’s good little slut, and only daddy can fuck your pussy the way you need it, isn’t that right?”

“Yes—yes, daddy, you fuck me so good,” you cried out, hands scrabbling at the bed sheets for leverage to push back into him.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” he demanded harshly in your ear, the words sinking into the deepest parts of your brain.

A twisted smile curled the corners of your mouth because you knew exactly what Bucky wanted to hear, and you were only too happy to give it to him. It was safer to admit what you were about to admit because it was the heat of the moment, and you hoped Bucky would think you were just saying it to make him happy. Only you could know that you meant every word.

“You fuck me so much better than John, daddy,” you purred, pushing your hips back into Bucky’s thrusts, forcing him deeper into your cunt until you were so full of him, you thought he was imprinting himself on your very being. “Your dick feels so good, so big, daddy—you’re the only man who fucks me so good, Bucky, you’re the best dick I’ve ever had. ”

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” Bucky bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. He fucked you harder, faster, rutting into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave another mark inside you. “Rub your clit for me, wanna feel you cum on my fat cock.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You slid your hand between the blankets and your body, slipping it between your thighs and circling the tight nub of your clit with a viciousness that matched how Bucky was fucking you. Your inner walls clenched down hard on Bucky’s cock, dragging filthy groans from both your mouths as he pushed deeper and began grinding inside you.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Never felt anything so tight.” He let out a harsh breath, his forehead falling to your shoulder as he kept up his relentless fucking, pushing you closer and closer to the edge of your release. “Feels like you’re choking my cock, baby—I can’t hold on much longer.”

“Choke me, daddy,” the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop yourself, the deepest recesses of your brain responding to Bucky’s words in a plea for one of your darkest desires.

Bucky’s bicep and forearm squeezed the sides of your neck instantaneously, giving you what you begged for and cutting off some of your air so you were forced to gasp for every little breath. You pussy squeezed tighter around his cock, wringing a rasping chuckle from the depths of his chest.

“You’re such a filthy, depraved little slut, baby,” Bucky murmured teasingly in your ear before nipping the shell with his teeth, dragging a ragged cry from your lips. “Ya like it when daddy chokes you, huh? Bet John fucking Walker doesn’t choke you like this, does he?”

“No,” you gasped, your voice hoarse but genuine as you admitted, “He’d never choke me—he’d never treat me like a slut.”

“That’s fucking right,” Bucky growled, somehow managing to fuck you even harder, his hips snapping into your ass so hard, you could hear the sharp clapping of his skin against yours even over his heavy breaths panting in your ear.

“I’m the only man who can fuck you like you need it—dirty and rough. That’s how you like it, isn’t it, baby—you like being fucked like a slut?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, as much in response to Bucky’s debauched question as to the feeling of his cock pounding into your cunt. You were so close—so close you could barely think, but you knew everything Bucky was saying was right. He was the only man who fucked you the way you needed it, and you needed to cum on his cock.

Thankfully, Bucky seemed to want the same thing.

“Cum for me, baby,” he growled in your ear, his hips slamming his cock into your body hard enough to nearly hurt, but the pain-edged pleasure only pushed you closer to your release. “Cum on daddy’s cock while he’s choking your pretty little neck and fucking you like the filthy slut you are.”

Bucky’s words and his cock, and your fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and a ragged scream tearing free from your lips. Pleasure consumed you, body and mind alike, until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else.

It went on for one long, endless moment, pleasure pulsing through your being until it finally abated. Then, the world began to reform around you. Slowly, you returned to yourself, Bucky’s cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” he was rumbling, rutting into you while your pussy squeezed him in a perfect clenching rhythm. “Feels like your cunt’s begging for my cum. Is that it? Ya want my cum that fucking bad, baby?”

“Yesss,” you moaned, your limbs melting beneath him as you savored the feeling of Bucky chasing his release in your body. “Want your cum, daddy, please gimme it,” you whimpered, weakly pushing your hips into his big body in a wordless plea.

Bucky grunted a soft, “Fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock to the hilt in your still pulsing cunt as he came. He let out a long groan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

It felt so good, your lips curled at the edges in a happy smile. Every part of you felt warm and satisfied, and you basked in the unmatched afterglow that came in the wake of getting fucked by Bucky Barnes.

When he was finally spent, Bucky eased his hips back, pulling out of you gently so he didn’t hurt your thoroughly used pussy. You appreciated the effort, even if you did feel a pang in your gut at the loss of him, like your body was mourning his absence.

Bucky rolled off you and flopped onto his back, leaving you limp and sated.

And cold.

The man who’d just fucked you better than anyone else ever had made no move to pull your naked body into his, but that wasn’t surprising. Bucky wasn’t the type to initiate post-sex snuggling, though he didn’t stop you from cuddling into him if you initiated it.

Gathering your strength, you heaved your body toward Bucky, draping yourself on top of him, wrapping an arm over his stomach and hitching your thigh over his hip. Your cooling skin pressed to his heated body as you tucked your face into his neck, cooing happily when his arm curled around your shoulders, holding you against his side.

But a post-sex snuggle wasn’t the only thing you’d been looking for.

Your mouth found the side of Bucky’s neck, your lips working against his skin, kissing and sucking and biting him while he rumbled soft sounds of satisfied pleasure. You didn’t stop until you’d left a hickey, but when you pulled away to get a look at it, you decided it wasn’t enough.

After all, you were literally covered in his marks.

So you went back to work, sucking on the hickey until the bruise was so big, there’d be no hiding it—not unless Bucky suddenly started wearing turtlenecks. Somehow, you knew he wouldn’t. You knew he’d wear your hickey proudly, even if it meant he might not get laid until it faded.

When you were finally satisfied with your work, you brushed one last kiss to the hickey, and settled down at Bucky’s side. Your cheek pressed to his chest and you listened to his heart thumping a steady drumbeat beneath his pecs.

For a moment, you were both quiet, enjoying the feel of each other. Then Bucky fished his phone out of the pocket of his discarded sweatpants, which he’d kicked off at some point. He held the device aloft over the two of you, tilting his head to the side and using the front-facing camera to look at the mark you’d left.

“I guess I deserve this,” he commented, trailing his fingers over the gigantic hickey. There was no anger or annoyance in his tone, though, only amusement. He skimmed his fingers down to your shoulder and gently rearranged your arm until the marks he’d left on the sides of your tits were visible. “Now we’re even.”

A snickering smile curved your mouth and you were about to retort that you weren’t anywhere close to even, but the soft click of Bucky’s phone snapping a photo cut you off.

Reaching up, you tapped the screen to show the picture and you had to admit, it was pretty cute. The hickey on Bucky’s neck was prominent and he wore a cocky grin on his attractive face while you smirked into his chest, his marks dotting your skin even though you weren’t revealing too much of your breasts.

It was the kind of photo you’d consider setting as your phone’s background if Bucky was your boyfriend.

He wasn’t, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still want it.

“Send that to me,” you said, trying to keep your tone light.

But Bucky must’ve heard how much you wanted the picture, because he chuckled evilly, pulling the phone out of your reach. When you lifted your head to glare at him, there was a mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“If I send this to you, you gotta promise not to let John mark you up again.”

That time, you let him see you roll your eyes while you reminded him, “Only boyfriends get to make demands like that, Bucky.”

Huffing a frustrated sigh and giving you a half-hearted glare, Bucky tapped the screen of his phone a couple times. A second later, your phone buzzed with a text and when you glanced at it, you saw he’d sent you the photo of the two of you.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I just don’t ever wanna see his fucking marks on your body again.”

You nodded your agreement, saying, “That’s fair.” It was the least you could do, all things considered.

Bucky laughed to himself at your easy agreement, then pushed you onto your back and spread your thighs while he sat up on his knees between your legs. “Now, smile pretty for daddy, baby. I wanna take some photos of all the hard work I did marking you up.”

A pleased grin pulled across your face. As much as you enjoyed taking pictures and sending them to Bucky, you loved it even more when he wanted to take pictures of you himself. So you laid on the bed and let Bucky position you how he wanted so he could take photos of his handiwork.

“You gonna jerk off to these when you get home, daddy?” you taunted, staring up at Bucky and smiling for his camera. “Gonna rub your cock to pictures of your marks all over me?”

Bucky’s eyes flashed and his cock twitched between his thick thighs, making your smirk widen. You knew you were provoking him again, but you couldn’t seem to stop.

“You gonna make yourself cum looking at photos of me covered in your marks, daddy?”

Your teasing comments led to you laying helplessly beneath Bucky, his knees keeping your thighs spread wide so you couldn’t grind against anything while he jerked himself off with his fist. The only thing he allowed you to do was knead and grope your tits, your pleasure mixing with aching pain from the bruises covering your skin.

Bucky came like that, his cum covering your fingers and chest in ropes of his seed, marking you all over again.

He took even more photos of the sight of your hands playing with your cum-covered tits, then fucked your pussy with his fingers, sounding very pleased with himself when he teased you for getting off on him making a mess of your slutty body and pushing his cum deeper inside you.

It was late when Bucky finally left your apartment, and you realized you’d been right. It had been a very long night. But even though you knew you’d only get a couple hours of sleep before work, it had been so worth it to text Bucky that photo of your tits covered in another man’s marks.

Over the next few days, Bucky demanded an endless stream of photos of the bruises he’d left on your tits and ass. He was busy at the office and the two of you couldn’t find time to see each other, but he didn’t want to miss any of the progression of the marks he’d left as the hickeys deepened into a dark plum color on your skin.

It turned you on to send so many photos, to see the constant reminder of the marks he’d left on your body, so you indulged Bucky every time he asked for more photos. It helped that he responded with a mixture of sweet degradation and filthy praise that had your heart beating harder in your chest and wetness gathering between your thighs.

Every night for a week, you got yourself off to the dirty things Bucky texted you, the promises of what he was going to do to your body the next time he saw you. But more than anything else, you kept going back to the possessive text message he’d sent the day after he’d been to your apartment, rubbing your clit to Bucky’s words.

Don’t you dare show John fucking Walker your tits with my marks on them, baby. Those marks on your body are all fucking mine, and they’re only for you and me.

you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #toxic bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #you ain't my boyfriend and i ain't your girlfriend series

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lnfours · 13 days ago

Text

close to you | l.n

summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.

warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there

jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍

masterlist | listen to the playlist

before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.

to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.

that was until you met him.

the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.

You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.

sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.

but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.

it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.

until pietra confirmed your suspicions.

“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”

you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”

she scoffed, “more like know so,”

“who told you?”

“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”

you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”

but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.

ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.

he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.

and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.

he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.

so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.

he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”

your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“

“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”

how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.

and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.

as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.

he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.

“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”

your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”

he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”

there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.

the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.

he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.

he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.

he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”

you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”

“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.

you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.

you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.

“hey, lando! long time no see!”

you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.

“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.

“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.

“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“

“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”

what was that supposed to mean?

you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“

“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”

you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.

“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.

“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”

lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”

you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”

you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”

“up to your room, huh?”

you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”

“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.

“yeah, we can put it that way.”

he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.

he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.

“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”

he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.

finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”

he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”

you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”

he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.

the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.

you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”

you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.

“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”

“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”

you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.

he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.

his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”

your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”

he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”

his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.

“never mind, it’s dumb-“

“lando,”

“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“

you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.

it was too late now, no going back.

you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.

“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“

it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.

you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.

when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.

“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.

“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.

“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”

“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”

you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”

“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”

you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”

“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.

1K notes · View notes

ktownshizzle · 11 days ago

Text

Love & Lullabies | Part 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)

Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.

Chapter warnings: A lot of mood and scene setting—just vibe with it, MC is in her sad girl era, hints of depression and anxiety, masturbation, Yoongi is a new dad y’all he is tireddd af

Word count: almost 6k

Posting date: November 12, 2024

Notes: This is inspired by an ask/prompt sent by @yoongznme. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕🫶🏼

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Masterlist

Namjoon leans back in his seat, sporting an all-too-familiar, slightly conspiratorial glint in his eyes. Hmm. You know that look.

It's the same one he had when he "casually" set you up to tutor one of his trainee friends in English—the one you let slip was kinda cute. Or when he signed you up to perform with one of his rapper friends in that underground club in Hongdae. Sure, you knew every word of the chorus to eminem’s Stan, but you were not a fucking singer.

You still did it, though. Both times.

Namjoon’s especially notorious for volunteering you to do things he insists are "right up your alley." There’s a fire in his eyes when he starts talking about one of his ideas, and before you know it, you're swept up in his vision, already picturing yourself right there beside him, doing something you’d never consider on your own.

Namjoon has been your best friend since forever and for reasons you can’t explain, saying no to him has always been impossible.

Right. It’s definitely that. It’s definitely not because in those two prior instances mentioned, both friends of his are actually the same guy. The one you had an almost crippling crush on over a decade ago. (You’re sooo over it, though. Trust.)

When Namjoon leaned in, you were already bracing yourself.

“So, you know Yoongi, right?”

You blink, pause, and slowly shake your head. It has taken years, but today is the day you tell him, “No.”

“The fuck? What do you mean no?” He replies, already looking hella amused. “I haven’t even said anything.”

Your face feels like a furnace, but you grit and steady your voice. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

He lets out a hum, shifting in his seat, and you get the sense he’s working up to something.

You sip your coffee, keeping your eyes on him. He gives you an exaggerated shrug, dimples deepening as he lets his shoulder sag.

God you’re literally already about to break.

“Fuck. Joon. Spit it out.”

He nods triumphantly, “Ok, there’s something I thought I’d run by you first, before he hears about it.”

The words hang in the air, and you raise an eyebrow. “Joon. What are you getting me into?”

Namjoon chuckles softly as he folds his hands on the table. “So… Yoongi has a son. A baby, actually.” He pauses, watching for your reaction.

Woah. Someone has fuckboi Min Yoongi all locked down?! Huh. You never saw that coming.

You let that sink in, surprise filling the quiet space between you. “I… didn’t know he had a kid.”

“Not many people do,” Namjoon admits. “Only those close to him know. Yoongi’s a great dad, but his caretaker recently left, and now he’s scrambling to balance his schedule and take care of his son.”

“And his wife?”

Namjoon sighs, gives you a look that means he’s about to say something confidential. “There’s no wife.”

“Baby mama?”

“Out of the picture.”

You let out a small breath, absorbing everything you just heard. You already had an idea of where this is leading up to, but you want it said explicitly. “So what exactly are you asking me?”

Namjoon nods, eyes hopeful. “Look, I know this is a big ask. I’m putting this out there because you’re one of the best with kids I know. And Yoongi—well, he’s pretty wary about letting new people get close to his son.”

You take another sip of your latte as he prattles on.

“While you’re still getting your bearings back, maybe you could take over the caretaker job, even part time?” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly as he says your name. “I just thought you might consider it. You’d be doing us both a favor. Yoongi really needs help, and I’d trust you more than anyone with this.”

You sit back, letting Namjoon’s words settle. Namjoon knows exactly what he’s asking—knows exactly how hard it is for you to refuse when he gives you that puppy dog look, especially when he’s throwing Yoongi into the mix. Honestly, you hate how you're apparently still soft for him even after all these years.

Namjoon also knows your current situation. Does he not realize it’s a bit unfair to ask this of you right now? Not when you're still picking up the pieces after your breakup with your long-term boyfriend. Not when you need time to heal. Not when you literally uprooted your life and just moved back to Seoul a month ago.

But somehow, you can’t shake the curiosity. What would it even be like to see Yoongi as a dad? To get a glimpse of this whole other life he’s got now?

It’s probably a terrible idea.

Yeah, no. You don’t need this right now. Money isn’t tight. And you need to focus on…

You take a slow breath, mentally tracing the edges of this mess. There are a hundred reasons to say no, and only one reason you’d even consider saying yes. And because it’s for Yoongi… damn, maybe that’s reason enough.

The next time you see Yoongi, it’s at HYBE’s massive rehearsal space. Namjoon had invited you to watch the group practice—innocent enough, though you know it’s also his way of nudging you toward the job. Joon thinks he’s subtle, but you know his plans are, more often than not, clunky as hell.

You settle in one corner, holding on to your half-finished iced Americano. A few staff are scattered around the studio, there was another girl (maybe a member’s girlfriend, you’re not sure), but it’s mostly empty. The boys are warming up, stretching or chatting, and you wave to Jungkook and Taehyung before finding yourself glancing toward Yoongi.

Wearing an all black outfit and a baseball cap, he’s standing off to the side, arms full with a fussy baby, and a bassinet stroller in front of him. The boy can’t be more than a few months shy of his first birthday. He’s close to tears, twisting and squirming, while Yoongi, visibly flustered, tries to hand him a toy, then a bottle, then anything he can find. Nothing works. Soon, the baby’s fuss turns into a full-on tantrum.

Oh, damn. Poor Yoongi.

He drops the bottle, spilling milk across the floor just as the stroller, half-locked, rolls a few feet away. He lunges for it, fumbling as the baby’s wailing intensifies, tiny fists flailing in frustration. Yoongi’s eyes dart around, panicked, while a couple of female staff start toward him, hands outstretched. But he waves them off, his face set in a mix of fierce determination and mild desperation as he rocks and hushes the baby.

It honestly hurts to watch the scene unfold. You almost want to do something.

Namjoon starts clearing people out, Jimin dims the studio lights, and Seokjin picks up the spilled bottle, wiping down the floor. Hobi taps a white noise track on his phone, placing it near the stroller. Your heart warms at how effortlessly everyone pitches in, their movements so practiced it’s obvious they’ve done this before. But it makes you wonder just how many rehearsals have paused for these moments. It’s probably why Namjoon wants to help find a solution, a.k.a you.

You meet your best friend’s gaze and he cocks his head toward the door, signaling for you to file out with the others, but your feet take you somewhere else entirely.

“Is he okay?” you ask, approaching Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t hear you at first, too focused on calming his son. His face is etched with exhaustion and something fragile, an uncharacteristic crack in his calm. He finally glances up, half-exasperated. To your mild relief, a look of recognition crosses his face, before he replies, “Yeah, he’s—he’s usually not this fussy.”

You watch him struggle for a bit, then, before you can second-guess, you step forward. “Do you mind if I try?”

Yoongi hesitates, studying you like he’s weighing the decision to trust you with his son. His eyes flick towards Namjoon who was standing by the door, before it goes back to you. After a tense pause, he nods, handing the baby over.

You hold the little boy, shifting him gently away from the mirrors and bright lights, rocking him slowly and humming an old lullaby you used to sing for your preschoolers. Gradually, his cries quiet down, his tiny head resting against your shoulder as he begins to relax, fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt. Within minutes, he’s fast asleep.

When you glance up, Yoongi is watching, his face unreadable. There’s relief, yes, but also a quiet wonder, an almost surprised gratitude.

“I owe you,” he murmurs, a softness in his voice you hadn’t expected.

“‘S ok,” you say, quietly, careful not to wake the baby.

The two of you stand there, his eyes on you for just a beat too long, and if you didn’t have the baby to ground you, you feel like you just might float.

“Thank you,” he says, tone soft and sincere.

From across the room, Namjoon watches, his eyes mirroring the same gratitude.

The call from Yoongi comes unexpectedly one evening, just after dinner. You don’t recognize the number, then again you don’t have a lot of +82s yet since you just moved back after many years of being in the States. The last thing you expect is to hear Yoongi’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey, it’s…Min Yoongi,” he starts, voice a little rough.

“Oh, hi.”

There’s a short silence, and then he clears his throat. “Namjoonie mentioned you uh might… be interested in helping with my son.”

You feel a strange flutter, both at the fact that Yoongi is talking to you, and at the fact that he’s asking something so personal. “Uh, yeah. I can help out.”

The pause is long enough that you imagine him somewhere, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it’s a lot to ask,” he finally says, sounding almost apologetic. “I don’t want to… impose or anything. But it would help. A lot.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” You hear Yoongi release a sigh of relief. Then he says the next phrase in a rush, “I know you are overqualified for this, so uh please let me compensate you with your salary as a teacher in America.”

You feel your face flush. Thank god this was not a video call. Seems you’re as uncomfortable as he is talking about money, though it is a necessary evil. “Oh, no, please Yoongi. You don’t have to. Joonie’s my bestfriend and you’re his brother. I can just help until you can find a more permanent solution.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with you on this. You hear a puff of breath before he says. “Alright. Thank you.”

And just like that, you’re set. He gives you the address, and you’re left wondering for the rest of the night how you’ll manage this strange new gig.

The first day you arrive at Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam-dong, you’re a bundle of nerves, unsure what to expect.

After you ring the bell, the door opens to reveal Yoongi with his usual reserved expression, a piece of muslin cloth draped on one shoulder.

“Hi,” he says simply, stepping aside to let you in.

You offer him a smile. “Hey.”

He closes the door behind you as you step inside. You look around, taking everything in.

The apartment is spacious but cozy, with a warmth that speaks of careful design—minimalistic furniture in muted colors, shelves lined with books and vinyl records, a few baby toys strewn around the living room. Homey.

This is the first time you get to really see Yoongi. The brief encounter at the rehearsal studio didn’t afford you the chance to appreciate how time has treated him.

Seeing him after six years, he’s both the same and somehow different. He has always had that calm confidence—a steady, grounded energy that feels both nostalgic and new. His usually colorful hair, now in its natural hue, casually frames his face. He wears a simple white tee and you can tell the noodle arms are gone. His shoulders are much broader, arms stronger than how you remember him. The silver earrings are still there, subtle reminders of his edginess, softened by time.

But beneath it all, there’s a layer of, hmm… exhaustion, you guess? A shadow under his eyes, faint lines hinting at the weight of sleepless nights. His lips are chapped, there’s a tiny red bump on his chin. He’s a new dad, he hasn’t prioritized himself for a while. Still, his face carries a tenderness in the fatigue, like he’s tired, but happy.

“He’s napping right now,” Yoongi clears his throat, motioning toward a small crib by the window, where his son is sleeping peacefully, bundled in soft blankets.

“You haven’t told me his name.”

“Haneul.”

“That’s beautiful,” you reply, and Yoongi nods, almost shy.

He hesitates, glancing down as if gathering his thoughts. Then he says your name. “I… um, I didn’t know how this would go. His last caretaker was actually my aunt, but she got sick and had to go back home.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.”

He nods, “But after seeing how he calmed down with you… I think he’ll be alright.”

He gives you a tour of his apartment, the baby monitor clipped in his jean pocket. His place is modern, spacious, baby-proofed. There are pictures that line the walls of the hallway linking the nursery, his studio, guest room, guest bath, and the masters.

You spend some time going through Haneul’s things—familiarizing yourself with the layout of the nursery. He shows you where the baby food and snacks are. Talks about his favorite toys and activities.

While he downloads the 101 on Haneul, the one thing you were curious to know was, where is his birth mom? You obviously don’t want to be a prick so you swallow the question down. Maybe you’ll find out in the future. But for now, you just need to know where the baby wipes are.

For the first few days that you come over, Yoongi keeps close, hovering just within earshot as you ease into the cadence of his son’s needs. He’s there with his arms folded, watching as you handle Haneul, a cautious yet respectful distance. You get it though. You’re a virtual stranger he just let into his home and his son’s life. Who wouldn’t be guarded?

You quickly notice that Haneul has a sweet temperament, but has a bit of a sensitive side. He doesn’t take to loud sounds, so you keep your voice low and movements gentle, singing him lullabies and nursery rhymes under your breath while Yoongi quietly observes, even if he pretends to be engrossed with something else.

On your third day, Yoongi has to leave to attend an important meeting at HYBE. He’s been pacing by the door, making sure his son is settled before he goes, even though you’re right there, holding the baby with practiced ease.

“Are you sure you’re… good with this?” he asks, his brow furrowed, as if still convincing himself to leave.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Go. I got him. He’ll be fine.”

He hesitates one last time, eyes fixed on you, and then he finally gives a small nod. “Okay. I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the door closes, you’re left with the quiet hum of the apartment and a very awake, very curious baby in your arms. You spend the next hour rocking him and singing songs, amazed at how easily he settles, almost as if he’s known you longer than a few days.

After his nap, you take a video of the babbling Haneul enjoying his yogurt gems and send it to Yoongi. He replies almost immediately with a smiley emoji and a curt: cute.

Yoongi returns around dinnertime right as you’ve settled the baby down in his bed. He steps inside the nursery quietly, watching as you tuck the blanket around his son. When you look up, he’s standing there, holding two cups of steaming liquid.

“I, uh… thought you might want some tea,” he says, looking slightly awkward but endearing.

“Always.” You take the mug with a grateful smile. “How was your meeting?”

“Could’ve been an email,” He shrugs and stuffs the empty hand inside his pocket.

You grin as you take a sip, remembering how you’ve always enjoyed his dry sense of humor, in the rare occasions you hung out in the past. Ooh, this tea is… your favorite.

“Silver moon?” you asked.

He nodded, “There’s a TWG shop that just opened near the office. Namjoonie might have mentioned it was your favorite, so.”

Your ears warm up just as well as your throat as you savor another drink.

“How was Haneul? Did he give you a hard time?”

“Not at all,” you shake your head, looking over to the little angel. “I’ve had a lot of practice, you know.”

“I can’t imagine handling a whole classroom full of them,” he says, looking at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. “One’s hard enough.”

“You’re lucky to have him,” you reply wistfully, suddenly feeling a tug at your heartstrings. ‘What I would give…’ you almost utter out loud.

The thing is, you actually do, without realizing it. Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi files the thought away, a subject he might bring up one day—when the time comes that he thinks you trust him, too.

The days blur into a steady rhythm. You arrive in some afternoons, not really everyday, only when Yoongi needs the extra hand at home or if he needs to leave the house for a day of rehearsals. You both establish that this is merely a favor so he doesn’t treat you like you’re at his every beck and call. Usually it starts with a short message in Kakao, and if you’re free, he would send a car to pick you up. Your meals are always ready, delivered on the dot. Conveniences are always within your reach—your favorite tea, extra clothes in case there are food or poop blow-outs, etc. The cleaning lady that goes thrice a week, Mrs. Kwon sometimes keeps you company and assists you with anything.

As you help take care of his baby, you feel that he’s looked out for you, too. Which is nice.

On days that he is working from home, Yoongi brings his work into the living room, just to be nearby during playtime with you and Haneul.

One evening, when his son falls asleep in your arms after a particularly fussy day, Yoongi glances up from his laptop and leans back in his chair, a tired but grateful smile breaking through.

“He’s really taken to you,” he observes, sounding almost as if he’s admitting it to himself.

You smile, feeling a strange warmth at his words. “I think he’s just a really sweet kid, Yoongi. He’s easy to love.”

The smile he gives you after that is probably the gummiest one you’ve ever seen.

A few weeks pass, and a subtle partnership has started forming between you, like you’re both slowly finding a rhythm in the chaos of caring for Haneul.

Bath time becomes a kind of unspoken relay: you gather the towel and clothes, while Yoongi preps the tub, testing the water with careful fingers. There’s a brief exchange of glances—no need for words, just a nod as you pass off Haneul, who’s already giggling happily.

Snack time turns into a ritualized watch party. You set out the applesauce and crackers for Haneul, and Yoongi brings a bag of chips and his laptop over to the living room, joining you and Haneul for yet another episode of Miss Rachel. Occasionally, he’ll mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, trying (and failing) to disguise the fact that he’s memorized the songs, too. (And in English, no less!)

There was one particular afternoon that you walk in on the father and son having a heartwarming exchange.

Haneul, who’s wobbling on his unsteady little legs, is reaching eagerly for a stuffed tiger Yoongi is holding just out of reach.

“Oh, no, no, no—you gotta work for this,” Yoongi teases, eyebrows raised dramatically. He moves the tiger side to side, adding a low, exaggerated growl that makes Haneul squeal with laughter. Yoongi leans fully into the act, growling and making faces, finally swooping Haneul up with a playful roar, both of them dissolving into laughter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, your heart catching slightly at the sight. The way his eyes crinkle in genuine amusement, his mouth relaxed into a wide gummy grin. And you’re startled by how… soft he looks, how fucking attractive he is when he’s like this. When his usual quiet intensity is replaced by this playfulness, by this open warmth. It hits you somewhere deep, a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest that you can’t quite ignore.

Yoongi catches you watching, his smile faltering for a moment, but he holds your gaze. His expression shifts, something curious reflecting in his eyes as if he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he swallows a lump in his throat, cheeks dusting a faint pink as he looks down, bashful.

You force yourself to glance away, feeling warmth creep up your neck. For the first time, you’re struck by an awareness of him that wasn’t there before, and it lingers, even as you turn back to whatever it was you were supposed to be doing. The image of his smile, his laughter—it all stays with you, stirring something you can’t quite put a name to.

And just like that, you’re settling into this role in the life of the Min men—something you know is temporary, but is infinitely meaningful.

When you’re not in Yoongi’s apartment, your own place feels strangely foreign.

God, you hate it here. You can’t even bring yourself to call it home—it’s just a room with white walls, half-opened moving boxes, a stack of unread books Joonie gave you, a mattress on the floor, and a fridge with a single egg. It’s quiet. Too quiet. You could fix the place up—it’s not like you can’t afford a bed frame or groceries—but for some reason, you’re punishing yourself. Like this is the way someone like you—unwanted and rejected—ought to live.

Nothing in this flat tethers you to it, and maybe that’s why you prefer being out.

You’re afraid your heart is stuck somewhere in limbo, somewhere between Seoul and LA. Maybe it’s still floating above the clouds on that flight back. You don’t know when it’ll come down, but you hope it’s soon.

Tonight, you’re restless, tossing and turning in your makeshift bed, replaying fragments of your old life—a love that once felt solid, a future that had once felt certain. Your mind drifts to those last conversations with Jiyong, your ex, the ones where he shut down every hope you had for a family, making you wonder if wanting more was somehow wrong.

You probably deserve it, though. You want a family, but you can barely cook for yourself. What do you hope to feed a child—takeout? Junk food? It’s laughable. You can’t even make a home feel like one. Jiyong probably got tired of you because you’re useless at it.

Stop. You close your eyes, focus on your breathing, try to still your mind. 1, 2, 3…

Some nights, you especially hate yourself. Tonight is one of them.

You need to call Namjoon. He can usually talk you down, ease the self-loathing. You ring him three times, but each time, you get his voicemail. Fuck. Maybe he’s out, maybe he’s getting laid. Good for him, honestly.

But that might actually work. You rummage through one of your boxes and find the one purple bullet that’s gotten you through plenty of spirals. With a flick, the vibrator buzzes to life, and you slip it beneath your panties, pressing it right against your clit. You’re not in the mood to drag this out—you want release, quick and easy, something to take the edge off.

At first, your limbs relax as that familiar tingle begins, little sparks shooting from your core, teasing you with hints of pleasure. You keep at it, determined, but after a few minutes, the sensations stall. It’s like your body’s stuck, lingering on the edge without tipping over, leaving you stranded and more frustrated than when you started. You decide to cut your losses.

Maybe a shower. Maybe you can pop by the GS25 down the block for a bottle of soju.

But then your phone pings. It’s Yoongi.

Your tummy suddenly feels funny.

You immediately swipe up and read the string of messages that has popped on your Kakao.

Yoongi: Hey so I found this in Haneul’s crib Yoongi: image.jpg Yoongi: u got this for him? he is lowkey obsessed. Yoongi: But WTF is it?

You cackle. Loud and hearty. A sound you didn’t think you were capable of on a shitty night like this.

You: A capybara! Look it up! Yoongi: Oh Yoongi: never heard of it You: They’re cute Yoongi: ? You: Don't be mean You: Haneul and I love bora Yoongi: ?? You: thats her name Yoongi: noted

That night, the Kakao thread becomes your lifeline. Yoongi asks about your next visit, what you had for dinner, and when you say goodnight he sends back a grainy selca of him and a sleeping Haneul with Bora. The photo brings unexpected joy, something to remind you that you aren’t as alone as it sometimes feels. Finally, you succumb to slumber, clutching your phone to your chest, thoughts of Yoongi and Haneul floating in your dreams.

After that, you become more and more aware that Yoongi’s place has become a sanctuary. There’s Haneul’s bright laughter, the way his tiny fingers curl around yours, and the sound of Yoongi’s soft, steady voice, creating a background that somehow starts to feel comforting. With them, you’re too busy to dwell on the past or the ache left behind by someone else’s rejection. Instead, you’re present, stable.

And it’s in those moments—when you’re reading Haneul a story or soothing him to sleep—that you feel a glimmer of something you’d thought you’d lost: hope. The simple act of holding him, soothing him through his small struggles… It’s healing in a way you can’t quite put into words, as if this little boy is slowly fusing pieces of your heart you’d almost forgotten were broken.

And Yoongi—he’s part of it, too. His presence, his quiet strength, the way he’s trusted you with something so precious.

You know this is just a phase, that this isn’t your life, but a part of you can’t help but imagine what it would be like if it were. To be here, day after day, with this little family that’s somehow found its way into your heart.

You’re still healing, still putting yourself back together, but this—this feels like the start of something you could believe in again.

What you couldn’t believe though was the email from your building administrator with an acknowledgment receipt for next quarter’s rent payment—all settled. You haven’t made the deposit yet, how come it’s saying it’s been paid for already?

You pace your room staring at the email from your phone as if it holds all the answers.

What is happening? Who paid for this? You didn’t sign up for some sugar baby service…

Wait. Something clicks in your brain. Suga. Baby.

Your first instinct is to call Namjoon, meddler extrordinaire. He picks up on the second ring, sounding annoyingly chipper.

“‘Sup, buttercup?” he asks.

“Don’t act cute, Joonie,” you warn. “Did you know about this?”

There’s a pause. “About what, exactly?”

“Yoongi,” you say, practically hissing his name. “He paid my rent, didn’t he? Three months’ worth. How did he even know where I live?”

Namjoon lets out a hum, his tone maddeningly calm. “Ah. That.”

“Yes. That. Care to explain?”

“Look,” Namjoon says, unbothered. “Yoongi asked, so I gave him your address. He said you refused his offer, but still he wanted to pay you back somehow.”

“But Joon! It’s too much—” You pause, scrambling for the right words. “How did he even get a hold of the landlord and settle all this without my knowledge?”

Namjoon chuckles, which only makes you more annoyed. “Yoongi hyung is an influential guy, you know. If he wants something, he’ll fuckin’ find a way. Just take it, okay? You’re helping him, he’s helping you. It’s fair.”

You huff, still not convinced. “It’s just… a lot, Joon. I don’t need anyone swooping in and paying my bills. And you could’ve at least warned me.”

“I get it. But you’re helping him with something really important. This is his way of saying thank you.”

You sink back into your chair, the irritation draining out of you. “Fine,” you mutter. “But if he pulls something like this again, I’m coming for your ass.”

Namjoon laughs. “Aishh. Why the hell is it my fault?”

“You’re a smart man. Figure it out.” You hang up.

You spend that afternoon at Yoongi's. He was in a rush, dashing out for some shoot as you arrive. You hear him return around seven, just as you're finishing putting Haneul to sleep. Once the baby is settled, you tiptoe out of the nursery with the baby monitor on hand, following the sounds of soft clinking and the rich aroma wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey, Yoongi,” you call out, stepping into view. “Haneul’s all tucked in. I was just gonna—”

“Stay for dinner?” Yoongi’s eyes light up, his voice gentle but hopeful as he turns, holding a pot in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It looks like he came straight from his shoot, his hair still styled in soft, precise waves that swoop perfectly across his cheekbones. He’s wearing the softest, oversized yellow sweater layered over a crisp white shirt, and his jeans hug him just right. But it’s his smile that really draws you in—light radiates from him, his face glowing not just from a bit of skincare, but from something more.

Goddamn. The man is looking fine as hell.

You’d planned to meet up with Namjoon tonight, but one look at Yoongi—whose eyes are too shy to hold yours as he ladles red sauce into a ceramic bowl—and you know you are absolutely staying put. Joon will understand.

“Ok, yeah, that looks really good,” you say.

“It is.” Yoongi smirks, just barely, and gestures to the fridge. “I’ll plate this up if you can grab some drinks?”

You procure a couple of beers from the chiller and set them on the dining table, shooting off a quick text to Joon afterwards.

You: Hey, raincheck? Yoongi made dinner and it looks good ngl

His response is instant.

Namjoon: You blowing me off to play house with hyung. K. I see how it is.

This asshole.

You’re about to call and give him a piece of your mind when Yoongi’s voice pulls you back. “Everything okay?”

Your gaze shifts to the plates of spaghetti he’s just set down, the aroma working wonders to sway your thoughts. “Yeah, just Joon being a pain in my ass as usual.”

“Sit.” Yoongi gestures to your chair as he settles into his.

“Wait.” You grab the baby monitor from the kitchen counter, setting it between you and Yoongi. The screen shows Haneul fast asleep, Bora tucked securely under his arm.

“There. Now we can eat.”

Yoongi nods, and the two of you dig in.

It hits you that this is actually the first time the two of you have shared a quiet dinner together like this. You were expecting Yoongi to let the silence linger, but he starts a conversation mid-way.

“I, uh, was surprised to see you back here,” he says casually, twirling a forkful of pasta.

“Me too. It was… kind of abrupt.”

He nods, not pressing, just listening. You don’t think you’re ready to talk about that so you try a joke.

“Didn’t think you’d ever see the girl who carried your performance of Stan?” you add, smirking. “I basically launched your career.”

“Carried?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Nah, you were choking.”

“Hell no.”

“Uh-huh.” He laughs softly, shoulders bobbing. “Rewriting history….”

“Fine. I sucked. Joon totally went behind my back with that one. Not that he’s the only one who likes going behind my back,” you add pointedly, of course alluding to the matter of your paid-off rent.

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, looking almost guilty. “Sorry for overstepping.”

“Just don’t start paying my utilities behind my back, too. Because—”

He shifts awkwardly, avoiding your gaze.

“Yoongi?”

He clears his throat. “Just your electricity. I… may have asked the landlord to include it this month.”

“Oh my god.”

“And water,” he adds quickly, eyes widening like a kid who just got caught.

“Add my Netflix subscription while you’re at it.”

“Done.”

“NO!!! You’re actually worse than Joonie,” you groan, though a smile quirks at your lips. “But, thank you:”

He nods, briefly pausing before he speaks up again, a little too flippantly. “So… you and Namjoonie—what’s the deal there?”

You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking somewhere over your shoulder. “You know what we all think? That he’s playing some kind of long game with you.”

You wrinkle your nose, laughing. “Oh god, no. Y’all are waayyy off. Namjoon’s like my brother, that’s it.”

Yoongi nods slowly, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as he watches you.

“Everyone thinks that, huh?” you ask, leaning in, a little bolder than usual.

“Mhmm.” Yoongi gives a slow nod, as he nibbles his lower lip.

“All the members?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching you carefully.

“Including you?”

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though something shifts in his expression, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t know existed.

“Interesting,” you murmur, swirling your glass.

“Why?” he narrows his eyes on you, wheels turning in his head.

Maybe it’s the beer loosening you up, bubbles lifting your usual filters. You’ve always been a lightweight.

“You never wondered why Joonie suddenly set you up for English tutoring with me—just you—even though your company had a professional hired to teach everyone?”

He blinks, eyes narrowing a bit more.

“Or why I ended up singing with you at that damn club?” You laugh, leaning back.

His lips mold into a small pout, processing, but you’re already laughing.

“Joonie’s been throwing me into your orbit, Yoongi,” you say, giggling, the alcohol hitting you hard now. “And you’re telling me you never noticed?”

He looks like he’s having a full conversation with himself, his mouth opening and closing like a stunned goldfish inside a gallon bottle. All he manages is an eloquent: “shit.”

“Well, for the record,” you pause, “I thought you were cute, but it was obvious you weren’t interested. Don’t worry, though,” you say lightly, glancing down on your almost empty plate. “I’m a big girl now. It’s all in the past.”

As you stab the last meatball, you miss the way Yoongi’s gaze softens.

You have no way of knowing what’s going through his head. But if you did, you would find that he’s thinking:

If he could go back in time, he’d kick his younger self straight in the balls for not noticing, and tell him to get his head out of his ass long enough to realize this one shocking truth:

You were not Namjoon’s girl.

And he actually had a chance with you.

Because maybe you’re right. Back then everything was about the dream—y’know, big house, big cars, big rings, and all that shit. So yeah, maybe, he wasn’t ready then.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t now.

Notes: Oh-KKKAYYY!! How are we feeling? Anything you liked in particular in this chapter? Where is the baby mama? Do we even care atp?!

Part 2 is where things get more flirty, spicy, and all that good stuff.

Tell me your thoughts and theories. See you in the comments! <333

Thank you for reading, you lovely, beautiful, human 💕🫶🏼

You can sign up for my permanent taglist here so you can be notified when I post updates to this story and more.

Part Two >

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hysteria-things · 9 months ago

Note

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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