#he probably was looking more eye to eye with her by the time his growth spurt ended
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bespoke-nautilus · 1 day ago
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Professor Vaisce looked mildly confused. Confused, but not alarmed, which was odd, considering they were standing in the midst of a blazing forest fire in one of the oldest growth forests on the planet.
He was shuffling through an unorganized stack of papers, looking for all the world as though he was standing in the front of a lecture hall and had forgotten his notes.
Instead of being soot-stained and standing surrounded by crackling blaze that was making short work of the Sequoia Grove.
Tag just stared at her mentor. "Did. Did you do this, Dr. Vice?" Her voice shook a little. It was probably the smoke that was making her hoarse. "Did you set the grove on fire!?"
A charred, cracked trunk, bigger around than the professor himself, finally gave up the fight and came crashing to the ground in the distance, sending up a cloud of smoke and embers. The professor startled, looking up from his papers. "Hmm? Oh, the fire, yes." Tag couldn't see the professor's eyes. The flames surrounding the clearing were causing odd reflections in his spectacles. Dr. Vaisce looked more like a demon right now, soot-black fur and pits of orange light where his eyes should be. "All according to plan, my girl! No need to worry!" He patted Tag on the shoulder. An anemic attempt at reassurance. "After all, surely that new hero, Mayhem, wasn't it?, shall be along shortly! Always seems to be around these parts, yes?"
"Besides, the powers that be generally need a bit of spectacle to be convinced to change their ways, yes?" He chuckled, "And what better way to showcase the mismanagement of these forests than a bit of conflagration!"
Tag's mouth hung open, astounded, "So you DID do...all this!?" She gestured around at the forest, aglow in a hellish blaze, "But Professor! This is...too much, it's all gotten out of hand!" She scrubbed at her face, probably smearing ash further across her cheeks. She didn't care at this point.
Wait. Her classmates! Had they gotten out!?
"Professor! Where is the rest of the class! Did..." an uncertain pause, "Did you...do something to them!?"
To his credit, the doctor looked a bit chastened. Hurt, even? "What? Of course not! Those students are under my care! I do not shirk my duties!"
He glanced around, hand falling back to his side. "I suppose there could be other hikers about, but I did ensure that our trip was scheduled during the off season, so as to limit any casualties." The professor took off his glasses, smearing the round lenses with a handkerchief in an attempt to remove some of the soot. "Quite upsetting, but sacrifices must be made, at times!" He smiled paternally at his ward, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Class 17b will be quite all right, however, do not worry! Mx. Ishii is escorting them out as we speak!"
Shouts began echoing from the trailhead
"Ah! Here they come now!" The rest of Tag's class came pouring down the trail, seemingly mostly unharmed, if scraped up and singed. "See? Perfectly well!"
The languid form of the TA slunk around the corner, apparently assisting one of the more injured teens. They brightened, a snaggletoothed grin spreading across their face, "Oh, there you are, professor! And you've even managed to locate our slipperiest pupil? Little Tag! I am pleased to see you safe." They handed off the limping student and walked over, "So. This whole fire business seems quite daunting! I don't know how the fire marshalls will handle it!"
Mx. Mallon Ishii practically purred as they leaned a bit too close to Tag, whispering into her ear with a smirk, "That seems like a problem for you, yes?"
A shiver ran down Tag's spine as she jerked away from the older figure, eyes wide, and stuttered, "Wh...what do you mean!? I don't know how I would do anything to this!"
One of the better off students, Eric, jogged up to the group, "Professor! Mx. Ishii found a safe trail out! Do you need any assistance?"
Dr. Vaisce looked at the boy a bit vacantly. "Hm? Oh! No, I think I, Mx. Ishii, and my protege here will see if we can save any samples from the immediate environs, and catch up to you all! Do be safe, dear boy!" He patted the man on the shoulder, dusting off a bit of ash.
Eric looked a bit confused, but seemed to shake it off, and replied, "Um. Okay, Dr. Vaisce. If you're sure? I'll come back in 5, if I don't see you, then..." He jogged back to the stragglers of the group, most of which had disappeared around the curve on the opposite side of the clearing.
The professor watched after him, murmuring, "Good lad." His focus shifted back to Tag as the rest of Class 17b made their way out of the clearing, his eyes losing the warmth from a few seconds ago.
"So. Ms. Tag. Perhaps you should 'make a call' to your hero friend?"
Tag's eyes grew even wider and a strangled, loud, "What!?", emerged. She tried again. "I mean. What do you mean? What, um 'Hero Friend'?"
The professor cocked his head, eyes narrowing. "Hm. I suppose you can keep up the charade, then. The clock is ticking, however."
Mx. Ishii sidled up to the doctor, resting a pointy elbow on his shoulder, "Yup! Ms. Mayhem should probably hurry, unless she wants this all to spread! The fire is spectacularly large!" They cackled, which was swiftly cut off by a hand grasping their throat.
The professor squeezed a bit harder, lifting Mallon's gangly form a bit off the ground. "Yes, Malice, this IS a rather large conflagration, and yet, I distinctly remember specifying a small one." Ishii's hands clawed at their throat, making a strangled noise. "Well, what have you to say for yourself?"
Another choking attempt at speech.
"Why, what is wrong, dear partner?" A cruel smile cracked the doctor's face. "Cat got your tongue?"
He dropped his assistant, who came to rest in a heap, gasping. In a strained voice, "Well, Doctor, to be fair, you did assign the firebug to set fires." They grinned, "Surely you expected something of the sort!"
The doctor sighed, and reached out a hand to help up the taller cat. "Hm. Well, perhaps we shall have do some further training with you." He looked at Mal fondly, "Whatever shall I do with you, my dear?"
Ishii took his hand and a smile played about their lips, "Oh, you shall have to punish me, I suppose!"
Straightening themselves, the two older cats turned to Tag, eyeing her impassively.
Tag was lost in a whirl of emotions. Adrenaline pumping, confusion running high, she stared at her mentors.
"Did. Did you just call them...Malice?"
The professor's amused golden eyes bored into hers. "Of course, dear girl. I would have expected you to figure such things out by now!" He pursed his lips, "But perhaps you are not quite the hero I thought."
He turned and began walking towards the clearing exit at a leisurely pace. "Come along, Malice, we have much to do!"
"Coming, Doctor!" Ishii turned back to Tag and purred, "Well, now would be the time to, heh, 'call' your friend Mayhem, I think! Good luck with all the fire!" Turning, they jogged back to the professor, and hooked their arm through his.
When the two had fully vanished amongst the burning trees, Tag let out a shuddering breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding.
And then her brain caught up.
Oh. They knew.
Her mentors knew.
Her mentors were also, apparently, Dr. Vice and Malice.
So the two villains who'd been tormenting her since her unintentional debut knew.
Dr. Vice, and his insane assistant, Malice, knew the secret identity of Ms. Mayhem.
meanwhile, vice looks like a mildly confused professor turned evil in front of the last sequoia: hmmm? oh yes, the fire. on purpose. according to plan. mostly. i think, let me check my notes....
and malice: oh the fire? yes, i suppose that might be a problem. for you.
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You're right.
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lila-lou · 2 days ago
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✨His second exception - Pt. 28/?✨
Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.
Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader
Warnings: Language, fluff, ANGST, Maybe some triggers (death chances etc.)
Word Count: 7667
A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 28 of "His second exception".
English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙
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Another week crawled by, and the days felt like an endless cycle of exhaustion, pain, and fleeting moments of solace when Ben was by your side. The injections had become unbearable. Each dose of V had increased incrementally, pushing your body to its limits. Now, the second the serum hit your veins, it overwhelmed you so completely that you passed out, your body unable to cope with the intensity.
Today was no exception.
You’d barely managed to register Dr. Collins’ voice as she explained the procedure for the hundredth time. Ben had stayed close, his hand gripping yours tightly, his jaw locked as he watched the needle sink into your arm. The sharp sting of the injection was the last thing you felt before the familiar heat seared through your body, pulling you under like a tidal wave.
You awoke hours later, your body drenched in sweat, your muscles trembling from the aftereffects. The pain lingered like a dull ache in your bones, a constant reminder of the toll this was taking. Your head throbbed as you blinked, the dim light of Dr. Collins’ office coming into focus.
“Hey”, Ben’s voice broke through the haze, low and rough but filled with worry. He was seated right next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. His face looked more tired than you’d ever seen it, dark circles shadowing his eyes. “You’re awake”.
You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and raw. Instead, you managed a faint nod, your fingers twitching slightly against the blanket draped over you.
Dr. Collins appeared in your peripheral vision, her expression neutral but her tone clinical. “You passed out for three and a half hours this time”, she said, glancing at the chart in her hands. “Your body is still metabolizing the dose, but your vitals are stable for now”.
Ben exhaled sharply, his head tilting back as he muttered under his breath, “Stable. Sure, great”.
You reached out weakly, your hand finding his. “Ben”, you croaked, your voice barely audible.
He leaned forward instantly, his eyes softening as he wrapped his hand around yours. “I’m here”, he said gruffly. “You scared the shit out of me… again, but I’m here”.
You managed a faint smile, though it felt like it took all the energy you had left. “How… long can we keep this up?”, you whispered, your voice shaky.
Dr. Collins hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she spoke. “We’re nearing the limits of what your body can handle”, she admitted. “But the baby’s growth is stabilizing slightly. If we can make it another two weeks, you’ll both be in a much safer place”.
Ben’s grip on your hand tightened, his knuckles white as he turned his gaze back to you. “Two more weeks”, he said, his voice a low rumble. “You just have to hold on, doll. Two more weeks, and this’ll all be worth it”.
You closed your eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. Two weeks felt like an eternity, but with the way Ben was looking at you, the fierce determination in his eyes, you knew you couldn’t give up now. Not when you’d come this far. Not when he was counting on you.
“Okay”, you whispered, the word barely audible, but it was enough. Enough to reassure him. Enough to keep going.
When Ben carried you into the house that evening, you were visibly weaker than usual. Your body ached in ways that were becoming all too familiar, but the sight of the baby’s room as he passed by stirred something in you—a determination you hadn’t felt in days. You placed a shaky hand on his chest and looked up at him, your voice soft but firm.
“Ben… take me to the baby’s room”, you whispered, your eyes glinting with a quiet resolve.
Ben groaned, his jaw tightening. “You need to be in bed”, he grumbled, his grip tightening protectively around you. “You can barely move. What the hell do you think you’re gonna do in there?”.
“Please”, you said, your tone more insistent now. “Just let me sit in the rocking chair. I want to get the last stuff ready. I promise I won’t overdo it. I just need to… I need to feel like I’m doing something”.
He stared at you for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered arguing further. But the determination in your eyes was something he couldn’t ignore. With a heavy sigh, he carried you to the baby’s room and gently set you down in the rocking chair.
“There”, he said, his voice laced with frustration but also a hint of fondness. “Now what?”.
You gave him a small, tired smile, gesturing to the nearby boxes and items that still needed organizing. “Well, the blankets need to go in that drawer”, you said, pointing, “and the diapers should go in the cabinet by the changing table. Oh, and that mobile needs to be hung up—”.
Ben raised a hand, cutting you off with an exaggerated groan. “Alright, alright, boss”, he muttered, rolling his eyes but already moving to start on the tasks. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you know that?”.
You chuckled softly, leaning back in the chair as you watched him work. He was gruff as ever, muttering under his breath as he carefully folded blankets and stacked diapers, but there was a tenderness to his movements that made your chest ache in the best way.
“You’re doing great", you said, your voice full of warmth as he fumbled with the mobile.
Ben glanced back at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t patronize me”, he grumbled, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smirk.
“I’m serious”, you said, your hand resting on your belly. “You’re going to be the best dad, Ben”.
He paused for a moment, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Yeah, well”, he muttered, turning back to his task, “she’s gonna have one stubborn-ass mom too”.
"Hopefully”, you whispered quietly, almost to yourself. But the weight of your words hit the air like a stone, and Ben froze where he stood, his hands pausing mid-motion as he hung the mobile.
He turned to face you, his eyes narrowing, a storm brewing in his expression. “Stop fucking talking like that”, he snapped, his voice sharp and cutting, though the fear behind his words was unmistakable. He crossed the room in a few long strides, crouching down in front of you so he could look you directly in the eye.
You didn’t flinch, but your chest tightened as you saw the raw emotion etched across his face. “Ben—”, you started, but he cut you off, his hands gripping the armrests of the rocking chair to steady himself.
“No”, he growled, his voice low and trembling with anger. “I’m serious. I don’t want to hear that kind of shit coming out of your mouth. Not now. Not ever”.
You swallowed hard, your throat tight as the tears welled up again. “I’m just being realistic”, you said softly, your voice cracking. The weight of the day’s conversation with Dr. Collins loomed heavy between you and Ben, like a storm cloud that refused to pass.
Earlier, the doctor had laid it out plainly: while the V medication had stabilized your condition for now, the next weeks were critical. If your body didn’t adapt more to the medication—and quickly—the strain of carrying a supe baby could prove too much. She hadn’t minced words. The risks were terrifyingly high.
And right now, instead of adapting, your body seemed to be doing the opposite—struggling more and more each day.
“You heard what she said”, you whispered, looking at Ben with tear-filled eyes. “There’s a huge chance I might not make it through giving birth if my body doesn’t start adapting. And it’s not. It’s getting worse, Ben”.
Ben’s face twisted, his jaw clenching so tightly you could hear the faint grind of his teeth. His hand tightened on the armrest, his knuckles white. “No”, he said sharply, his voice like steel. “I don’t give a fuck what the odds are. You’re going to make it”.
You stared at him, your emotions bubbling over. “Ben, you can’t just decide that—”.
“Yes, I can!”, he barked, his voice rising, though there was a tremble in it now, betraying his fear. “You think I’m just gonna sit here and let that happen? No fucking way”.
His hands moved from the armrests to your face, cupping it gently as his thumbs brushed away your tears. “You’re not leaving me”, he said firmly, his green eyes boring into yours, fierce and unwavering. “I don’t care what it takes, or what we have to do. We’ll figure it out. But you’re not leaving me, and you’re sure as hell not leaving her”.
You let out a choked sob, gripping his wrists tightly as you leaned into his touch. “Ben, I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice breaking. “I want to believe that, but every day feels harder. What if—”.
“No”, he interrupted, his voice softer now, though no less resolute. “No ‘what if’. I don’t want to hear it. You’re going to fight, just like you always do”.
Your tears falling freely now as he pulled you into his arms. His hold was strong, protective, as if he thought he could shield you from everything with just his embrace.
“You’re not going anywhere”, he murmured against your hair, his voice low and thick with emotion. “Not on my watch”.
Over the next few days, Ben couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut. You were exhausted, drained from the relentless injections and the toll your body was enduring, but in the rare hours when you weren’t asleep or recovering, you were laser-focused. Too focused.
You walked him through the baby’s room, showing him where you’d organized everything. “The diapers are here, wipes over there”, you said softly, gesturing to the neatly arranged cabinets. “And if you run out, there are extra boxes in the hall closet”.
Ben stood there, arms crossed, his brow furrowed deeply. “I’ll remember”, he said gruffly, though he hated the edge of finality in your voice, the way it felt like you were handing over the reins of a life you weren’t sure you’d be part of.
It didn’t stop there. The next day, you sat on the couch with him, the laptop balanced on your lap. “I bookmarked a bunch of tutorials”, you explained, your tone calm but tinged with a quiet urgency. “Feeding, diaper changes, how to swaddle, how to bathe her… just in case—”.
Ben slammed his hand down on the armrest, cutting you off. “Stop”, he snapped, his voice sharp and filled with anger he couldn’t fully contain. “You don’t need to show me this shit. You’re going to fucking be here to do it yourself”.
You flinched slightly at his tone, but instead of backing down, you met his glare head-on. “I’m trying to make sure you’re ready, Ben”, you said, your voice trembling but firm. “Because we don’t know what’s going to happen, and I need to know you’ll be okay. That she’ll be okay”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, his green eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and fear. “I don’t need a fucking tutorial”, he growled. “I need you to stop acting like you’re already gone”.
The tension in the room was palpable as the doorbell echoed through the house. You sighed, pushing the laptop aside and glancing toward Ben, who was still radiating frustration. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath before standing up to answer the door.
When he opened it, your parents stepped in, their cheerful expressions quickly fading as they took in the somber atmosphere. Your mom glanced at you, her brow furrowing with concern, while your dad’s gaze shifted to Ben, reading the tension in his rigid posture.
“What’s going on?”, your mom asked cautiously, her eyes darting between the two of you.
Ben didn’t answer right away. He stood there for a moment, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe as if he were trying to ground himself. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, muttering, “I need a break”, before turning and heading toward the kitchen.
Your parents exchanged a worried glance before your mom moved closer to you, sitting down beside you on the couch. “What’s wrong?”, she asked softly, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “You two seem… off”.
You shook your head quickly, forcing a small smile onto your face. “It’s nothing”, you lied, your voice shaky. “Just… a long day”.
Your dad wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms, his expression growing more serious. “Come on”, he said, his tone firm but gentle. “Something’s going on. You’ve been distant the last few times we’ve talked. And now he’s walking away like that?”.
You swallowed hard, avoiding their gazes as you tried to think of a way to deflect the conversation. The last thing you wanted was to tell them about the survival odds. But your mom wasn’t letting it go.
“Sweetheart”, she said, her voice trembling slightly, “if something’s wrong, you need to tell us. Please”.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Your throat felt tight, your chest constricted with the weight of everything you were carrying. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it—not when their worried faces were looking at you so intently.
From the kitchen, the faint sound of a cabinet closing signaled that Ben was still nearby. You glanced toward the doorway, half-hoping he’d come back in and steer the conversation away, but he stayed out of sight.
Finally, you shook your head again, forcing another strained smile. “I’m fine”, you whispered. “We’re fine”.
Your mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push further—for now. She simply wrapped an arm around your shoulder, holding you close.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Ben leaned against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He stared down at it, his jaw tight as he tried to collect himself. He hated this—hated feeling so powerless, hated seeing you so determined to plan for a future without you in it. His chest heaved with every breath, the tension in his body palpable. He barely registered the sound of footsteps behind him until your dad spoke, his voice low but filled with restrained anger.
“You know”, your dad started, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, “she’s pregnant. In a lot of pain. While carrying your baby”. He let the words hang in the air for a moment, his tone sharpening as he continued. “Leaving her out there and saying something about ‘needing a break’? That’s a shit move, Ben”.
Ben’s jaw tightened, his grip on the counter white-knuckled as your dad’s words hit home. But your dad wasn’t finished.
“You put a ring on her finger, didn’t you?”, he said, stepping closer now, his voice growing more forceful. “There’s no such thing as a damn break! You don’t walk away when things get hard. You step up”.
For a moment, Ben didn’t move. Then, without warning, he inhaled sharply, his breath catching as the tension in his body exploded outward. His chest began to glow faintly—a phenomenon that hadn’t happened in months. It was faint, but unmistakable, a flickering reminder of the storm building inside him.
In a sudden motion, Ben grabbed his glass of whiskey and hurled it against the wall. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the kitchen, cutting through the heavy silence. The glowing in his chest intensified for a brief moment before he visibly forced himself to calm down, taking a ragged breath as he pressed his palms flat against the counter.
“She’s already given up”, Ben muttered finally, his voice hoarse, almost broken.
Your dad frowned, his expression shifting from anger to confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”, he asked, stepping closer.
Ben’s shoulders sagged, and he turned to face your dad, his green eyes dark with frustration and fear. “She’s planning for a future she thinks she’s not gonna be in”, he said, his voice low but filled with raw emotion. “Every time she talks about the baby, it’s about what I need to do, what I need to know. Like she’s already decided she’s not gonna make it”.
Your dad stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment. Then he shook his head slowly, his voice softening. “She’s scared, Ben. That’s not the same as giving up”.
Ben let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”, he hissed, his voice low and angry, though the anger wasn’t directed at your dad. He looked at the shattered glass on the floor as if it held all the answers he couldn’t give.
“Told us what?”, your dad pressed, his tone sharp now, stepping closer.
But Ben didn’t answer, his jaw clenching tightly as he turned away. His chest still glowed faintly, the tension in his body barely contained. Whatever was boiling inside him, he wasn’t ready to let it out.
Your dad frowned, studying Ben for a moment before making a decision. Without another word, he turned and walked back into the living room where you were sitting with your mom. The worry on both your parents’ faces deepened as they exchanged a glance.
“What’s going on?”, your mom asked, her voice cautious but concerned as she looked between you and your dad.
Your dad’s jaw tightened, and he knelt beside you, his tone softening as he asked, “Honey, what’s Ben talking about? He’s in the kitchen losing it, saying you haven’t told us something. What is it?”.
You froze, your eyes widening slightly. You glanced toward the kitchen, where you could hear Ben pacing, the faint sound of his boots against the tile. You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively moving to your belly.
“It’s… it’s nothing”, you said quickly, though your voice wavered. “He’s just upset. It’s been a hard week”.
Your dad didn’t look convinced. “Don’t give me that”, he said firmly. “If there’s something we need to know—something serious—you tell us. Right now”.
Your mom reached for your hand, her grip gentle but steady. “Sweetheart, please. We can see something’s wrong”.
The weight of their worry combined with your own exhaustion was too much. Your shoulders sagged, and you let out a shaky breath as tears welled in your eyes. “It’s just…”, you started, your voice trembling. “The doctors… they said… there’s a chance I might not make it through the delivery”.
The words hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the sharp intake of breath from both your parents. Your mom’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears, while your dad’s expression darkened with a mix of fear and anger.
“What?”, he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You nodded, tears streaming down your face. “My body… it’s not adapting to the V medication like they hoped. The strain of the baby… it’s too much. They’re doing everything they can, but… there’s no guarantee”.
Your mom was already holding you tightly, her tears falling freely as she whispered, “Oh, my baby…”.
Your dad stood up abruptly, his fists clenching at his sides. “And you didn’t tell us? Either of you?”, he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion.
Before you could respond, Ben appeared in the doorway, his expression a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “Because she didn’t want you to worry”, he said, his voice gruff. “But now you know. So congratulations”.
Your dad turned on him, his voice rising. “You knew about this, and you let her sit here planning for her death instead of fighting for her to believe she’s going to live? What the hell is wrong with you?”.
Ben’s eyes flashed with anger, his chest glowing faintly again as he stepped forward. “You think I’m not fighting for her every fucking day?”, he snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like, watching her go through this and not being able to fucking fix it!”.
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the situation crashing down on everyone. Your mom pulled you closer, her tears soaking into your shoulder as your dad stared down Ben, neither man willing to back down.
Finally, you broke the silence, your voice soft but firm. “Stop”, you said, looking between them. “I can’t… I can’t handle this right now”.
Both men looked at you, their expressions softening slightly as the anger in the room ebbed. Ben sighed heavily, running a hand down his face, while your dad knelt back beside you.
“We’re here for you”, your dad said, his voice steady now. “Whatever happens, we’re not going anywhere. None of us”.
Ben stood there, his shoulders tense and his fists clenched at his sides as he stared at your dad. He didn’t need any sort of enhanced ability to read your parents’ thoughts; their expressions said it all. The flicker of blame in your dad’s eyes, the heartbreak on your mom’s face as she held you—Ben knew exactly what they were thinking.
If she’d fallen for a normal guy, she wouldn’t be going through this. She wouldn’t be suffering like this. This is his fault.
And the thing was, for Ben, they weren’t wrong.
His chest felt tight, the guilt clawing its way up his throat as he looked at you, fragile and exhausted in your mom’s arms. This was his fault. His child growing inside you, his DNA causing your body to break down, his life—the one you’d chosen to share—dragging you into this impossible situation. If you’d fallen for anyone else, someone normal, you wouldn’t be facing the possibility of not surviving childbirth.
Ben’s jaw clenched as he forced himself to speak, his voice rough and strained. “You think I don’t know?”, he said, his green eyes locking onto your dad’s. “You think I don’t get it? That if it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t be going through this?”.
Your dad opened his mouth to respond, but Ben didn’t let him. “I know it’s my fucking fault”, Ben said, his voice rising slightly, the frustration and guilt spilling out. “I know I’m the reason she’s in this mess. But don’t think for a second that I’m not doing everything I fucking can to fix it”.
Your mom glanced up at Ben, her face softening slightly, though her expression was still etched with worry. “Ben, no one is blaming you—”.
“Yes, you are”. Ben snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “And you´re right. I don’t care if you say it out loud or not—I know what you’re thinking. If it wasn’t for me, she’d be fine. She’d be safe”.
“Ben, stop”, you said softly, your voice thick with exhaustion. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is”.
“How can you say that?”, he muttered, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m the reason this is happening. I’m the one who put you in this position”.
“You didn’t force me to fall in love with you”, you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. “You didn’t force me to choose this life, Ben. I did. And I’d choose it again, even knowing how hard it is. Because I love you”.
The room fell silent, the weight of your words settling over everyone. Ben stared at you, his jaw tight as he fought to keep his emotions in check. Finally, he let out a shaky breath, his hand tightening around yours.
“I just don’t want to lose you”, he said, his voice almost a whisper. “I can’t”.
As the evening settled, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the bedside lamp. Ben sat behind you in bed, his strong arms wrapped protectively around you, cradling you in his lap. You leaned back against his chest, your head resting against his shoulder as your hands brushed softly over your growing belly. The baby moved faintly beneath your touch, and you spoke to her in a soothing, gentle voice, telling her little stories, your voice filled with a love that never wavered despite your exhaustion.
Ben stayed silent, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, not with the turmoil churning inside him. He tightened his arms around you slightly, as if holding you closer could somehow anchor him, could somehow keep you tethered to him and away from the reality that loomed over both of you.
He tried to keep his emotions in check, tried to focus on the steady rhythm of your voice as you spoke to the baby. But his mind wouldn’t stop racing. How could he raise his daughter alone, without you? How could he navigate a world without the one person who made it all bearable, who made him better?
His chest tightened, the memories of the past few weeks crashing into him like waves. Just a short time ago, you’d both been so happy, so full of excitement and hope. The life you were building together had felt untouchable, like nothing could break the two of you. And now… now everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Without saying a word, Ben reached down and took your hand in his. His thumb brushed over the delicate band of the ring he had placed on your finger in Brazil. The memory of that moment—how beautiful and sure you’d looked, how his world had felt complete—hit him hard. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Ben’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb still tracing slow circles over the ring as he finally found the courage to speak. His voice was low and rough, almost a whisper, as he broke the heavy silence between you. “Promise me”, he said, his words trembling under the weight of emotion he rarely showed. “Promise me you’ll fight”.
You turned your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he was staring down at your hands, avoiding your gaze. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and he let out a shaky breath. “For me”, he continued, his voice cracking ever so slightly, “for her. Please”.
The word hung in the air, and it hit you harder than you expected. It was so unlike Ben to plead, to lay himself bare like this. He was always the strong one, the unshakable force that held everything together. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and desperate, made your heart ache.
You reached up with your free hand, cupping his cheek and gently turning his face toward you. His green eyes met yours, and you could see the fear there—the fear he’d been trying to bury, to mask with his usual bravado. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “I’m not giving up. I’m fighting. I swear to you, I am”.
His jaw tightened, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if drawing strength from you. “You say that”, he muttered, his voice quieter now, “but you’re so tired. And I—I don’t know how much more you can take”.
You shook your head, your hand sliding from his cheek to rest on his chest, right over his heart. “I can take more”, you said, your voice steady despite the tears brimming in your eyes. “Because I have to. For you. For her. I’m not leaving you, Ben”.
“Then stop showing me all this stuff”, he muttered, his frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. “I don’t need to know how to bathe her without drowning her, or how to swaddle her like she’s some little burrito, because you’ll be at my side”.
You blinked at him, your breath catching at the raw vulnerability in his words. He wasn’t just asking you to fight—he was demanding it, refusing to let himself believe in any other outcome. “Ben—”, you started, but he interrupted, his green eyes blazing.
“I’m serious”, he said, his voice rough but resolute. “I can’t stand hearing you talk like I have to do this alone. Like I have to figure it all out without you. I don’t need to know all that shit because you’ll be there. You promised”.
You nodded, your throat tightening as tears welled up in your eyes again. “I did”, you whispered, your voice trembling. “And I’ll keep that promise. I just—”. You paused, looking away for a moment before meeting his intense gaze again. “I just want to make sure everything is perfect for her. Just in case…”.
“No”, Ben said firmly, shaking his head as his hand cupped your face, forcing you to hold his gaze. “No just in case. We’re not doing that. We’re doing this together, and you’re going to be there to make it perfect yourself. Got it?”.
A tear slipped down your cheek, and you nodded again, this time with more conviction. “Got it”, you murmured, your voice barely audible.
Ben leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek to wipe away the tear. “Good”, he muttered, his voice softening as he tried to steady himself. “Because I need you, doll. More than I can even say”.
You exhaled shakily, your hand resting over his on your cheek. “I need you too, Ben”.
For a long moment, the two of you stayed like that, clinging to each other as if the world outside the room didn’t exist.
By the time the due date was just four weeks away, the days had fallen into a rhythm of quiet intimacy. Ben stayed by your side almost constantly, rubbing oil on your belly, massaging your aching feet, and sitting beside you on the couch while the two of you watched movies. Most nights ended with you falling asleep on him, his strong arms cradling you as though he could shield you from the world. Those small moments of normalcy became everything—your shared anchor in the midst of the storm.
So, when you asked him for an hour or two alone that morning, Ben had been reluctant but agreed, albeit begrudgingly. Now, as he stood in the kitchen, staring at the half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, he felt utterly out of place. For weeks, he’d been glued to your side, hyper-focused on keeping you safe and ensuring you didn’t lift a finger. Now, without you nearby, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
With a heavy sigh, Ben downed the rest of the drink and pushed the glass aside. Determined to stay busy, he wandered over to the dryer, pulling out the last few pieces of tiny baby clothes. He frowned as he tried to fold them neatly, muttering under his breath as the impossibly small socks refused to stay paired. Eventually, he gave up, leaving a messy pile on the counter.
Unable to ignore the pull in his chest any longer, he grabbed the clothes and headed toward the baby’s room. He hadn’t meant to disturb you, but the idea of you being alone for too long didn’t sit right with him. He figured he could pop in, drop off the clothes, and maybe just… check on you.
When he reached the doorway, he froze.
You were sitting in the rocking chair, your belly prominent and your face etched with concentration as you leaned over a small stack of papers. Your hand moved slowly, deliberately, across the page, and it took him a moment to realize what you were doing.
Letters.
His heart dropped as the realization hit him like a freight train. These weren’t just notes or lists; they were goodbye letters. One was addressed to your parents, another with “To My Baby” written in soft, shaky handwriting, and one more, sitting beside you, with his name written at the top.
“Y/N", Ben muttered, stepping into the room, his voice thick with disbelief and barely restrained anger. “What the fuck are you doing?”.
You startled, looking up at him with wide eyes, your hand freezing mid-sentence. “Ben”, you said softly, your voice wavering. “I thought I asked for some time—”.
“What the hell is this?”, he interrupted, gesturing toward the letters as he walked closer. His green eyes were blazing, his chest rising and falling with barely contained emotion. “You’re writing fucking goodbye letters? Is that what this is?”.
You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you set the pen down. “It’s just in case”, you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I just… I needed to—”.
“No”, Ben growled, cutting you off as he dropped the clothes onto the dresser and moved closer to you. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to sit here and write shit like this, like you’re planning to leave”.
You looked away, unable to meet his piercing gaze. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice breaking. “You know what the odds are. I need to make sure—”.
“No!”, he snapped, crouching down in front of you, his hands gripping the armrests of the rocking chair. His voice cracked with emotion, the raw edge of his fear cutting through the air. “I don’t give a shit about the odds! You promised me you’d fight. You promised me you wouldn’t fucking give up”.
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you finally looked at him, your heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. “I’m not giving up!", you said, your voice trembling. “I just… I need to be prepared, Ben. For her. For you”.
“I don’t need your damn letter”, he hissed, his voice thick as his hands moved to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You think some piece of paper is gonna replace you? You think I’m gonna read your words and feel better when you’re not fucking here?”.
“Ben—”.
“No”, he said firmly, his voice dropping to a whisper as his thumbs brushed your tears away. “You’re not writing letters. You’re not leaving. You’re staying right here with me, with her.
"Please Ben… Just… keep them somewhere safe".
But Ben wasn’t having it. He shook his head, his jaw tight as he pushed the letters back toward you. “No”, he said firmly, his voice low and trembling with emotion. “I’m not keeping them. I’m not hiding them. These letters don’t fucking exist because you’re not going anywhere”.
“Ben—”, you started, but he cut you off, his hands gripping yours tightly as though he could hold you in place by sheer will.
“No. Listen to me”, he said, his voice breaking as his forehead dropped to rest against yours. “I can’t do this without you. I won’t do this without you. So you don’t get to prepare for some worst-case scenario like it’s inevitable. You hear me? You’re going to be here. You’re going to see her take her first steps. You’re going to watch her grow up. You’re going to be right here with us, every single day”.
Tears streamed down your face, but his resolve didn’t waver. His hands came up to cup your face again, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You’re staying”, he repeated, his voice soft but unyielding. “You’re staying because I need you. She needs you. And I’ll be fucking damned if I let you go without a fight”.
The raw emotion in his voice shattered something inside you, and you collapsed against him, sobbing into his chest. His arms came around you, strong and steady, holding you as though his grip alone could anchor you to this world.
“Please, Ben”, you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking as you clutched the fabric of his shirt. “Please just take them. I need you to keep them”.
He stiffened, his arms tightening around you for a moment before pulling back to look at you. His jaw clenching as he shook his head. “No”, he said firmly, his voice rough but steady. “I’m not taking them. I’m not even going to pretend like this is an option”.
“Ben”, you pleaded, your hands trembling as you reached for his. “I need to know they’re somewhere safe. I need to know that if something happens—”.
“Nothing is going to happen”, he interrupted, his voice rising just enough to cut through the air. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as if trying to ground himself. “You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving her. I won’t even entertain the fucking idea”.
Tears poured down your cheeks as you grabbed the letters from the table, pressing them against his chest with trembling hands. “Ben, please”, you begged, your voice breaking into a sob. “I’m not trying to give up. I’m not planning to leave. But if the worst happens, I need you to have these. I need to know you’ll tell her how much I love her”.
For a long moment, he said nothing, his breath shallow and uneven as he looked at you, torn between his fear and his love for you.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hoarse and barely audible. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”, he whispered. “You’re asking me to fucking accept the possibility of losing you. You’re asking me to prepare for something I can’t even think about without fucking falling apart”.
Your heart shattered at the anguish in his voice, and you nodded, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “I know”, you whispered. “I know I’m asking for too much, but Ben, I don’t want to leave you unprepared. I don’t want you to have nothing if—if I don’t—”.
“Stop”, he cut you off, his voice breaking as he dropped his forehead against yours again.
“Please, if you love me, just take them. Don’t read them. Just keep them somewhere safe. Promise me, Ben”, you said, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands harder against his chest, forcing him to feel the letters.
He let out a shaky breath, his face crumpling as he closed his eyes. For a long, agonizing moment, he didn’t move, and you thought he might refuse again. But then, slowly, he reached up and took the letters from your hands. His fingers trembled as he held them, his green eyes opening to meet yours, raw and vulnerable.
“I’ll take them”, he said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But only because it’s what you need. Not because I think I’ll ever have to read them. Because I won’t. You’re going to be here. You hear me? You’re going to be here”.
“I hear you”, you whispered, your voice breaking as you collapsed against him again, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you, Ben. Thank you”.
He held you tightly, the letters clutched in one hand as his other wrapped around you, grounding you both in the shared fear and love that bound you together.
The evening was quiet, save for the low hum of the TV in the background. You were curled up in Ben’s lap on the couch, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he absently stroked your back. Outside, the world was preparing for Christmas, but inside your home, the festive spirit was dim. The half-hearted string of lights Ben had thrown over the window frame hung crookedly, blinking in mismatched intervals. You’d joked about it looking like a crime scene earlier, and Ben had tried to laugh, but you knew he hated that he couldn’t make things perfect for you.
Your stomach growled softly, a reminder that you hadn’t eaten much all day. The latest round of treatments had left you feeling weaker than ever, each injection draining a little more of the fight from your body. You sighed and began to shift in Ben’s arms, pushing yourself up.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?”, Ben asked, his tone laced with concern as his hands immediately went to steady you.
“I’m getting some snacks”, you mumbled, your voice shaky but determined as you tried to push his hands away. “I need to eat something”.
Ben’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head, already moving to stand. “No, you’re not. Sit your ass back down. I’ll get it for you”.
But you shook your head, your hands gripping the armrest as you slowly stood up. The world tilted slightly, but you steadied yourself, breathing through the wave of dizziness. “No”, you said firmly, even though your voice was barely above a whisper. “I can do it. I need to do it”.
Ben stood as well, his arms hovering around you like a safety net as he watched you take a shaky step toward the kitchen. “Sweetheart, come on”, he said, his voice softer now but still tinged with worry. “You don’t have to prove anything. Let me take care of you”.
You stopped, your back to him as you gripped the edge of the couch for support. “It’s not about proving anything to you”, you murmured, your voice tight with emotion. “It’s about proving it to myself. I need to know I can still… do something. Anything”.
Ben was silent for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Alright”, he said reluctantly. “But I’m staying right here. You fall, I’m catching you”.
You nodded, not trusting your voice as you took another step, then another. Each movement felt like a monumental effort, your legs trembling beneath you as you made your way toward the kitchen. When you finally reached the counter, you leaned against it, your hands shaking as you opened a cabinet and grabbed a box of crackers.
Ben hovered in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight as he watched you struggle. “You’ve got it, baby”, he said softly, his voice steady even though you could see the tension in his shoulders. “Take your time”.
You managed to grab the crackers and a jar of peanut butter, setting them on the counter before reaching for a plate. By the time you turned around, your knees were buckling, and Ben was there in an instant, his hands steadying you as he guided you back toward the couch.
“Alright, that’s enough hero shit for one night”, he said, his tone soft but firm as he helped you sit down. “You did good, but now you’re done”.
"Oh… Now I forgot the jam”, you muttered, half to yourself, half to Ben as you glanced toward the kitchen.
Ben immediately shot you a look, his brows furrowing. “Don’t even think about it”, he said, his tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “I’ll get it”.
But you were already trying to stand, determined once again to prove you could handle something, even if it was just fetching jam. “Ben, I’ve got it”, you said stubbornly, waving him off as you pushed yourself up.
“Damn it”, he growled under his breath, moving to your side as if he could physically stop you. “Why do you have to be so—”.
“Because I can do this!”, you interrupted, glaring at him as you took a careful step forward. “I’m still fighting, Ben. Let me do it”.
He threw up his hands, his jaw clenching in frustration. “Fine. Three steps. That’s all you’re getting before I step in”.
You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Then, just as you took the third, a sudden rush of warmth spread down your thighs, and you froze in the middle of the living room.
Your breath hitched, your hands instinctively going to your belly as you looked down at the growing puddle on the floor. For a moment, your mind went blank, and then it hit you all at once.
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A/N: Please let me know what you think. 🥰
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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer @urinternetmom @mochminnie @laaadygisbooornex3 @fallout-girl219
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hetagrammy · 1 month ago
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Of her many children, Lady Eigyr kept her only daughter and youngest son with her most often at court. The daughter was obvious, but the son, some whispered, was because she intended for him to be her heir at court if he could not be her heir of Storm's End... a notion rarely shared in the company of Lord Alasdair.
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bloodibambiidoll · 10 months ago
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Angel Face, Devil Thoughts
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Summary: The first time Rafe Cameron saw you, he knew he had to have you. Whatever it takes. Wk: 6.8K
•This is a collaboration with @babygorewhore🖤 I had so much fun working on this with you baby, I love you so much!!!•
Warnings: Possesive!Rafe, obsessive behaviors (Rafe and reader), kidnapping, drugging, kinda clueless reader (or is she…?), daddy kink, borderline stalker behavior, spanking, hair pulling, jealous!Rafe, bondage, age gap (Rafe is 35 reader is 26), spit kink, oral, unprotected sex. Dark fic, 18+MNDI!! (Divider by me)
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Rafe Cameron’s legs turned as he swung the golf club, perfectly hitting the ball as it landed near the hole in the ground yards ahead. He smirked to himself. Topper clapped a hand on his shoulder. His grip firm and Rafe cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I don’t know how you do it. I’ve never beaten you.”
Rafe shrugged. “No one can,” He chuckled and scanned the scenery of the yards ahead of him.
It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot and he was able to wear nicer clothing than he usually did for golf. A simple button down shirt and comfortable pants allowed him to easily pick up his bag of clubs and make his way to the small section of the park where food and drink was served. By Pogues and the middle class.
But he wasn’t as involved in the war between kooks and pogues. At 35, he truly had better things to do. Run the empire and look after Wheezie who was a young teenager now. After Wards death, his sisters random marriage, his own growth over the years, Rafe just wanted to make money, fuck, and…make more money.
But then his eyes widened and he almost stopped short when he saw you. And his entire world came to a halt.
You were wearing a simple outfit, a little black tennis skirt and a polo tee that bore the logo of the franchise representing the park. Your hair was out of your face, you were wearing makeup and you were currently talking to Wheezie, who giggled and blushed at a young boy across from you both. Rafe’s footsteps slowed but he continued your way. He was close enough to hear the conversation.
“I think he’s really cute. But I don’t know how to approach him.” Wheezie complained and he wanted to roll his eyes over her thirtieth crush of the week when you smiled at her. And he melted inside.
“That’s okay. All you have to do is wave and smile. Men are easy.” You winked at her and he swallowed thickly.
You were so beautiful. Delicate. Angelic. Perfect. You radiated kindness and a youthful spark that he hadn’t exposed himself to in a long time. He was probably about ten years your senior but he didn’t give a shit. When he saw Wheezie walk away from you and your adorable smile continued to grow, that's when he decided.
You were his.
He cleared his throat and prepared to further approach you after abandoning Topper. He had no issue with shyness or other bullshit younger men dealt with but something about you made him hesitate. Why were you working? Someone as perfect as you deserved to be treated gently, like a princess. You needed to be kept.
Rafe could do that. Easily.
As he walked to you, your pretty doe eyes looked up at him, and a smirk so faint crossed your face that he almost missed it.
“Haven’t seen you before. Sorry if my little sister annoyed you. But I have a soft spot for her.” Rafe didn’t bother with introducing himself. You’d be screaming his name soon enough.
“Hi,” when you gave him your name, he almost got chills. Even your name was perfect. You were an angel. The way your feet rolled, trying to shorten the distance between you both was adorable. “She was cute! I remember my first crush.” You twirl your hair and Rafe gave you a hum of approval.
“What’s a pretty little girl like yourself doing working here? With looks like that, I figured you’d be a model.” Rafe complimented and instead of becoming shy, you batted your eyelashes and grinned.
“I’m thinking about it.” You glanced back at the bar cart, “but I have to get back to work. It was nice to meet you finally, Rafey.” The nickname made his lips quirk in a sadistic smile. A nickname already? One he never allowed others to use.
But you weren’t anyone.
You were his little bunny.
Rafe stayed longer than usual, watching you from a distance and leering at the way your skirt hugged your ass and hips. You were a little clumsy but he enjoyed that. He knew you’d have to rely on him for everything. You needed him.
When you clocked out, Rafe was horrified to see you start to walk down the road. You didn’t have a car. And that made him feel rage. How could someone allow you to walk home alone? He certainly wouldn’t. Not his pretty kitty.
Rafe marched forward, catching up with you before his hand gently touched your arm. “Pretty girls shouldn’t have to walk home. Come on. I’ll give you a ride.”
He expected you to deny it but then you grinned and nodded rapidly.
“Yes! That sounds great!”
This would be too easy. But he was worried. What if a bad man got a hold of you? How would he live with himself if something happened to you? He’d never let it go. No. His darling little girl would never get hurt.
“Come on. My car is this way.”
Rafe lagged behind you ever so slightly, despite his legs being much longer than yours. He couldn’t resist getting another peak of your ass in that little uniform. He also couldn’t resist when you stumbled as he was helping you into the passenger seat and one of his hands landed on the skin of your ass just under your skirt. He had to hold back a chuckle at the sight of you displaying yet another act of clumsiness. You were so helpless, fragile, too good for this world. He had to protect you from anyone who tried to hurt you, even yourself.
“Alright, Angel face, where am I headed?” Rafe buckles himself in, one of his long fingers hitting the push to start on his fancy sports car. He glances over at you, noticing that you haven’t buckled yourself up yet. He lightly shakes his head before leaning over the center console to buckle your belt for you.
“Oh, thank you, Rafey.” You run your fingers down his forearm, batting your lashes at him again. He takes note of your chipped nail polish, he’ll have to remedy that immediately. He’s definitely going to be calling the nicest salon on the island first thing tomorrow. Get you the full treatment, hair, nails, massage, whatever you want. “It’s on figure 8, I’m actually staying three houses down from you, I think. It’s my grandparents old house.”
“Oh, yeah, I heard about their passing. I’m sorry about that, doll.” He smiles at you softly, earning the cutest little grin in return. “Is that what you’re doing here? You inherit their house or something?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. They left it to my mom but she doesn’t have any interest in living here so her and dad are selling it. We came here to go through all their stuff and get it ready to put on the market.”
“What about you? You like it here?” You cross your legs, and Rafe can see how deliciously your thighs squish together out of the corner of his eye. He stifled a groan at the sight.
“Yeah, it’s nice. It’s a lot different from my hometown but it’s really pretty here. And I make better money than I did at my waitressing job back home.” Your voice is so cute, Rafe wants to drown in it.
“If your moms parents left her all that money, how come you’re working?” He takes a chance to look over at you at a red light, eyes roaming your form, committing as much as he could to memory.
“They are still dealing with all the legal stuff, and I don’t really know if they’ll even give me any. I don’t think they trust me with it. I haven’t always made the best life choices.” You sigh, a frown spreading across your lips, a crease in your brow. Rafe hates it, how dare they upset you? How dare they not help you? If you aren’t great with making choices, he doesn’t mind making them for you.
“Ah, makes sense. But a pretty girl like you? You deserve everything you could ever want. Waited on hand and foot.”
“That’s so sweet, thank you, Rafe. But I’ve always worked for what I want, ya know? I don’t really mind it.” You shrug your shoulders, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
“Well, I think you deserve better than that, s’all im saying. I’m gonna set up a spa day for you, alright? What are your days off?” This is a win, win for him. He can spoil you a little and figure out your work schedule.
“Oh! You don’t have to do th-“
“Angel, I don’t have to do anything, but I’d really like to do this for you. Let me.” It comes out like more of a command than a request and he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches in your throat at his tone.
“Alright, if you insist. I work Tuesday to Saturday every week. So I have tomorrow off, since today is Saturday.” You smile at him, and he thinks it’s adorable how proud you seem to be stating simple facts. You seemed like a bit of an air head but Rafe didn’t mind, he liked that, it would be easier to guide you.
“Okay, I’m gonna call and make you an appointment for tomorrow.” He pulls into the driveway of your grandparents home and takes his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Put your number in here and I’ll text you the details.”
Your smile is wide and he feels like he can practically see a sparkle in your eyes. He wants to give you the fucking world. You add your number to his phone, putting yourself in as “Angel Face” with a little bunny next to it. You give him his phone back and he smirks down at it, you were almost in too cute to bare.
“Well, thank you so much for the ride, and for tomorrow too! You’ve been so kind to me and you hardly even know me, I wish I could repay you somehow.” A little pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through those god damned lashes.
“I’m sure we can figure something out, Angel face. For now, be a good girl for me and get inside safely. Make sure you lock the door behind you. I’ll text you soon about your little spa day.” He smirks at you, resting his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. The cutest little squeak leaves your lips and he can’t wait to hear what you sound like when you moan his name. “Also, no more walking home, alright? I’m usually done with my work shit by the time the club closes so I’ll pick you up from now on.”
You look like you’re about to protest, but it’s almost like you think better of it. Instead you give him one of those sweet smiles.
“Sounds good, thank you again, I’ll make sure I’m a real good girl for you. Get lots of rest for my big day tomorrow. Good night Rafey.”
“Night, Angel.” You pat his hand before grabbing your purse and exiting his car. He swears you bent over a little extra to give him a flash of your little black panties, but he’s not complaining. As long as he’s the only man you’re doing that for. He’s totally and utterly addicted to you already, and he won’t stop until he owns you completely. Rafe quickly calls the salon owner's private number, knowing they’re probably closed by now. He offers her however much it takes to get you in the next day before typing out a text to you.
Your appointment is at 12:30 tomorrow, I think baby pink stiletto nails would compliment you well. I'll pick you up at noon, don’t be late. Sweet dreams, bunny.
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Rafe eagerly pulls into the salon parking lot the next day. He picked you up at noon on the dot, you came bouncing down the driveway with a bright smile on your face. He must say seeing you out of your work clothes was a spiritual experience for him. You were wearing this little black mini skirt, and a little light pink tank top. You had on the most impractical shoes for a place like this, big, chunky, studded platform Mary Jane’s, with little white ruffle socks. The thing that really did him in though? The black o-ring choker around your neck. It was all so contradictory, the pink, the studs, the little socks. He’s never seen a girl like you in all his years. He needs you so badly.
Last night felt like one of the longest nights of his life, he never thought he could miss someone he just met so much. But he was up nearly all night, his thoughts riddled with you. Your thighs, the way your tits looked in that little work polo, the way your ass would bounce when he fucked you from behind. Rafe has never jerked off so much in one night. Not even when he was younger. All he can think about is filling you up, spoiling you, maybe putting a few babies in you once he’s gotten his fill of alone time with you. He walks into the salon with a pep in his step, his eyes scanning the room for your beautiful face.
His features immediately harden when he spots you though. You’re sitting pretty in one of the plush pedicure chairs your feet propped up while a man paints your dainty little toe nails. His nostrils flare, anger surging through him at the sight of another man’s hands on his angel. His expensive loafers thud against the ground as he stomps towards you.
“Rafe, hi! You’re early! But this is the last thing, so you shouldn’t have to wait for long.” You give him that saccharine smile, completely oblivious to his internal meltdown.
“Hi angel.” He smiles at you, but he doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You about done with my girl here?”
He looks down at the man as he coats the polish on your toenails, wanting nothing more than to cut his fingers off one by one for even thinking he’s worthy of touching you. Let alone doing it. He doesn’t give a shit if he’s paying.
“Yeah, this is the last step then I’ll have her out of here.” The guy smiles at him before returning to his task.
“I didn’t know dudes worked at places like this.” Rafe scoffs.
“Rafe! That’s kind of a rude thing to say… Everyone here has been so helpful and kind! I’ve had a great day!” Your lips form into a pout, your brows furrowed. The last thing he wants to do is upset you, or scare you off. He needs you to trust him. Plus he’s not the same hot headed guy he used to be, he’s a man now. He can keep this to himself.
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Thanks for treating her right, man.” Rafe forces the most polite smile he can muster in his direction.
“No problem, just doing my job.” He taps his fingers against the polish, making sure it’s dry. “Which I’m all done with, you’re free to go ma’am. You can pay up front.”
“Thank you so much!! They look perfect!!” You wiggle your toes, your hands clapping together excitedly. You’re so cute Rafe hardly remembers why he was mad, hardly. He still wants to singe that guy’s finger tips off. “You like them?”
“Yeah bunny, those are gorgeous.” Rafe smirks, pleased to see the baby pink polish on not just your fingers but your toes too. You even went with the shape he suggested. You’re such a good girl already.
He walks you to the counter, using his black card to pay for everything. He even leaves a generous tip, despite how much he’s still simmering with jealousy over that man touching you. He wanted to make a good impression on you, he needs you to see how perfect he is for you.
“Lemme see you, pretty girl.” Rafe offers you his hand so he can spin you around, a low whistle escaping his lips as you twirl. “Gorgeous.”
“Oh my god, thank you! I really had such a great day. I got a massage. Then they did highlights and a blow out on my hair. And of course I got these pretty nails!!” You giggle, holding your hands out to him to give him a closer look.
“Very pretty, bunny. The little bows are a nice touch. I knew that color would be perfect for you. You ready to go?”
“Yup! All set.”
Rafe leads you out to his car, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt just like he has the last two times you've been in it. He drives towards your grandparents house with an almost uneasy feeling. He doesn’t want to let you go yet. Or ever. He left you alone for a few hours and regardless if it was his job or not another man had his hands all over you. He didn’t like it. You were too precious to be going around without him. You needed him just as much as he needed you.
When he pulls up to your house you thank him over and over again, telling him no one has ever done anything this nice for you before. How could they not have? You deserve a thousand times more than just this, and he’s going to give it to you. You lean over and leave a sticky lipgloss kiss on his cheek. His heart feels like it’s nearly going to burst out of his chest and he has to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out and kissing you like his life depends on it. You make sure to bend over again when you get out of his car, and it just drives him even more crazy. He was going to make you his, by any means necessary.
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Rafe carefully selected another item into the cart as he walked down the aisle at the store. The aisles were nearly empty since he picked the perfect time to arrive and buy things for his little girl. His shopping was usually done by someone who worked for him but how could he allow anyone to touch things that were yours? Only he could give you these things. His little angel wouldn’t ever have to worry about anyone ever again.
In the cart were stuffed animals, blankets, decorations and even coloring books. He had already assembled the basics in the bedroom he specifically designed for you two days later after he had been driving you home. The room would be ready tonight.
His caretaker nature allowed him to easily pick up on things you liked. Soft, sweet and gentle natured you. His baby girl.
As he returned to his home with several bags, he didn’t allow anyone to put things away. The room was a soft pink color. Completely removed of any objects that could cause you harm. Stuffed animals, a tv set, a computer that would be monitored, and a soft bed with fluffed pillows. Rafe stood straight and admired his work. Yes. This was perfect for a sweet girl like you. Everything about this plan would go perfectly. His little bimbo would fall for his trap and he didn’t have a moment of doubt or guilt. Why would he? You needed him. And he wouldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having you.
Like clockwork, Rafe heard the doorbell ring and he knew it was Barry. Here to accomplish his part of the task at hand. Rafe opened his front door after begrudgingly leaving your bedroom and Barry leaned against the frame.
“Sup, country club.” He dangled a bag full of small pills. “Got the dough. You have my money?”
Rafe handed over the wad of cash and accepted the plastic bag. “This better be the real fucking thing or I’ll kill you.” He warned and Barry smirked.
“Yeah, yeah I’m so scared of you big boy. Pretty fucked up though. What you’re planning to do with that chick. But it’s safe I guess. Not gonna hurt her.”
“That’s all I need to know.” Rafe pressed the bag against his chest and Barry crossed his arms.
“Ain’t ever seen you like this, bro. When you gonna get her?”
“Tonight. When she’s on her way home. Pretty little bunny doesn’t have a car. She’s making this easy for me.” Rafe chuckled.
“Aight, I don’t need to know anymore.” Barry held his hands up and walked away towards his bike. “Careful, Rafe. Sounds like you’ve really fallen for her.”
Rafe nodded and a twinge of emotion made him feel warm. He swore to himself he’d never fall in love. And now look at him. Planning on taking this poor girl but he was doing her a favor. She was his and his alone. He would protect her. Even if it was against her will. Even if it meant forcing her.
Later, Rafe was in his car waiting to pick you up with your favorite drink. A milkshake. His trembling hands gripped the steering wheel as the minutes went by on his digital clock.
You will be coming out soon. All his. His precious baby. Rafe craned his neck and finally saw you walking towards his car. His body tensed and his cock twitched with adrenaline as you smiled when you saw him. Twirling your braids, you waved at him while approaching the car with a half slip.
“Hi, Rafey! You’re right on time!” You said as you happily slid into the car.
Rafe nodded. “Of course I am, baby. I’m a man of my word. Here, I got you something, Angel.” He handed you the milkshake, his fingers twitching as you grinned and immediately wrapped your lips around the straw. You moaned at the taste and his mouth watered at your pretty sounds.
You fell for it.
Rafe inhaled slowly as he started driving, but not in the direction of your home. It didn’t matter anyway, you were drinking too eagerly to really notice.
“It’s a pretty day, Rafe! Almost as pretty as you are!” You giggled and Rafe reached over, placing a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle yet firm squeeze.
“Thank you, bunny. You’re such a sweet girl you know that? My sweet girl.” He muttered the last part and he noticed your movements were growing slower.
You blinked, your doe eyes becoming unfocused. The Valium was taking effect and he smirked with satisfaction. God, you were such a little bimbo slut.
“Rafey…I feel so tired…” you yawned and he traced his ringed fingers along your skin where your skirt had rode up.
“Go to sleep, baby. You’ll be all nice and safe when you wake up.” Rafe trembled as you slumped over, your mouth parting as you drifted to a deep sleep.
That’s it. That’s my fucking girl. So obedient.
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Your body feels weighed down, you try to open your eyes but it feels like someone put bags of sand on top of them. The last thing you remember is falling asleep in Rafe’s car, but what you’re laying on right now is definitely not a car seat. It feels like the most plush mattress you’ve ever laid on, even softer than the one in your grandparents guest room. Your head feels like it’s resting on a cloud, and the air smells nice. Like vanilla and strawberries.
After a few minutes of struggling you finally force your eyes to open slightly. There’s a soft warm light illuminating the room, and what looks like a sheer pink canopy on the ceiling above you. Your body still feels heavy but you’re able to move your hands now, spreading your fingers and running your palms across a silky soft blanket. You turn your head to the side and your eyes land on a pink wall with the prettiest vanity you’ve ever seen pushed up against it. You weave your head the other way, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Up against the opposite wall there’s a rack filled with clothes and from what you can tell it’s all things you’d wear.
You try to push yourself up on your palms, now extremely aware of how dry your mouth is, how thirsty you are. But your body still feels too weak. You let out a little groan and lull your head back against the soft pillow.
“Hey, hey, don’t try to move, Angel. I’ve got you.”
“Rafe?” Your voice comes out a cracked whisper, you can’t see him, but there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s him.
“Yeah bunny, it’s me, daddy’s here.” The self proclaimed title sends a shiver down your spine.
“Daddy? What’s going on? Where am I?” You’re about to try to push yourself up again when Rafe comes into view. He’s towering over you, looking down at you with what only could be described as adoration.
“You’re home.” His large hand reaches out to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb running over the apple of your cheek.
“Home? This isn’t my grandparents' house - I - I’m so thirsty.” You nuzzle into his palm almost subconsciously. You’ve spent so many nights now dreaming about his touch, more than just the brief thigh touches or a hand on your shoulder. It felt so nice.
“Shh shh, baby it’s okay. Don’t overwhelm yourself. Here, I’ll help you sit up, I have some water here.” His snakes one arm underneath your head and the other behind your knees, hoisting you up against the headboard with ease. Now that you’re sitting up you have a better view of the room. It’s beautiful. Something out of your wildest dreams.
“Where - where are we?” You ask with wide eyes, your voice filled with borderline awe.
“I told you Angel, we’re home. This is for you. I did this all for you.” He takes the cap off the water bottle sitting on the nightstand and holds it up to your lips. You eagerly chug it down, the cool liquid calming the burn in your throat.
“For me? Rafe? How did I get here? Did you change my clothes?” Now that you’re feeling more aware you realize you’re no longer wearing your work uniform. Instead you’re wearing a little silk nighty with white lace embellishments. It’s soft and comfortable and honestly gorgeous.
“Bunny… I need you to listen to me, alright?” He discards the water bottle so he can sit on the bed next to you, his hand returning to your face. You nod against his palm, looking up at him with big wide eyes. “Use your words.”
“I’m listening, Rafey.”
“Call me daddy when I’m talking to you like this, alright baby?”
“Okay, daddy.”
“I - fuck - I did what I had to do alright? I did what’s best for you. You’re too fragile, too precious for this world. That first day I saw you working at the club, I knew I needed you. Knew you needed me.” You try to hold in your smirk, you really do. But you were already starting to crack as it was, and this? This isn’t something you would’ve expected.
“Oh I know, daddy, I see the way you look at me… you didn’t answer my question though. How did I get here, huh? Did you slip something in that milkshake? Knock me out? Strip me down and get a good look at my little body?” You look at him with a Cheshire smile, and a gleam in your eye he’s never seen.
“Hey, I didn’t fuckin’ do any weird shit if that’s what you’re thinking, I want you fully aware of your surroundings the first time I have you. That is until I fuck you so good you forget everything but my name…”
“So kidnapping and drugging me isn’t considered weird? Got it.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “You know, I knew you wanted me, but I didn’t think you’d go this far. I have to say, daddy, it’s kind of hot.”
“The fuck you mean you knew?” His brows furrow, his nostrils slightly flare and you can tell you hit a nerve. But you just couldn’t keep up this clueless girl act anymore, not after he went to all these lengths just to get you. You needed him to know you wanted him just as bad.
“I mean, I’m not blind. You look at me like you want to put me in a cage and never let me go. You drive me home everyday. You offered to buy me new nails the first day you met me. Also, don’t think I didn’t notice how jealous you got when you saw that guy doing my pedicure. And guess what? The funny part is, you didn’t need the drugs to get me. I would’ve just let you take me.”
“You knew this entire time how badly I wanted you?” You nod and his hand reaches out to grip your jaw, rougher than before. “I told you to use your words, bunny.”
“Yes, I knew.” You smirk at him and he adjusts his grip so he’s pinching your cheeks.
“And you still continued to tease me like a little slut? Bend over and flash me your little panties every time you got out of my car? Always pushing those tits up against my arm and batting your lashes at me? Was that all some kind of act? You trynna scam me?” His hand migrates from your face to your throat, his thick fingers tightening against your esophagus deliciously.
“Daddy, no. It wasn’t an act at all. I want you so bad. Just wanted to see how far I could push you before you finally cracked. I have to say, you exceeded my expectations. I can’t believe you did all of this just for me. That’s so sexy.”
“Oh, so you’re just a little fuckin’ tease. That it?”
“I wasn’t teasing, you could’ve had me any time. You just got in your head that you had to carry out this elaborate scheme to keep me, when I’m already yours.” Rafe practically growls, he feels tricked, he feels frustrated that he risked hurting you with those drugs when you wanted him all along. But most of all? He’s so fucking horny.
“Well, I want you right fuckin’ now.” He uses his grip on your throat to push you onto your back and eases his body over top of yours.
Your breathing intensifies as you give him a small smirk. Of course you knew he wanted you. You may be a bimbo but you had common fucking sense. His blue eyes burned whenever he looked at you with a hunger that was impossible to deny. The material of his shirt rubbed against your bare skin, your slip riding up from his movements that left you pinned on the mattress under his mercy. His palm pressed against your throat felt heavenly, his fingers locked around the sides of your neck held you down posessively.
“You fucking slut. You liked it this the whole time. Liked playing with me. I’m gonna make you regret it.” Rafe flipped you over, grabbing your hips and yanking you up on your hands, your ass up in the air. Your pussy clenches around nothing before Rafe’s hand slaps your ass, hard enough to make you jolt forward as his other hand flies to your hair, holding you in place with a makeshift ponytail.
“Apologize to daddy. Say you’re sorry.” He growls and you want to be a brat and say no, but his fingers slide from your hair down, down, down to your entrance, sinking knuckle deep in your cunt. His two digits play inside you, curling in a come here motion and your slick welcomes him in further as his thumb brushes against your clit with a delicious pressure. “Mmm, wanna give you love, bunny, but you’ve been a bad girl.” He grunts and you whine with your face pressed against the bed.
“Sorry, daddy! I’m sorry I acted bad!” You shriek when he spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark. He spanks you again, and again and again. Tears prick your eyes and you hear him shift as he releases you. You fall forward, crashing onto the blanket and you feel his hands take your ankles. He moves you around on your back, dragging you to the headboard.
“Dumb little kitty. Bet you’re so wet from this. Let’s see,” He gives you a predatory smile and shoves off his black tie. He pins your wrists down, using your weakness to his advantage as he loops it around your hands. He ties you to the headboard and his knee spreads your legs, making you feel the air on your damp panties.
Rafe breathes through his mouth in a taunting huff, “look at that. You’re such a little whore for me. Wet from me hurting you? Drugging you? God damn you’re so pathetic. I love it.”
As you jerk, trying to move you realize you’re completely trapped by him. Rafe looms over you, cupping your jaw. “Open your fucking mouth,” He hisses and you immediately obey. He spits inside, “swallow it. You’re good at that, aren’t you?” You shudder at his filthy words.
Rafe crawls down, sliding your panties down your legs. A groan escaping him at your sticky pussy on display for him as he spreads your knees.
“Mmmm, so good. You’re so worked up.” He situates himself on the bed, burying his mouth against you, his tongue lewdly licks at your clit like an ice cream cone. His heated lips suck at your center with loud moans as he grinds into the mattress.
Your hips buck, his nose continually brushing against the underside of your clit as he laps all around before thrusting his tongue inside your entrance, gathering every single ounce of precum he can get.
“Fuck, daddy. Feels so good, I needed this.” You barely manage and he chuckles.
“Desperate, huh? Needed daddy to fuck this tight little pussy? My little girl is such a good bunny.”
Your stomach tightens, a tightening coil in your belly growing the more he licks you up relentlessly. He rips away, whipping your juices from his chin. His cock inside his trousers looks painfully hard.
“I’m going to make you fucking scream.”
Rafe pushes himself up on his knees, easily ridding himself of his button up and then moving onto his slacks. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock, you knew he’d be big, but it’s even better than you imagined. All those nights trying to stifle the moans of his name so your parents didn’t hear you.
“Fuck daddy, your cock is so pretty.” You’re practically drooling. “Fuck my mouth.”
He finds himself questioning if you’re even real at this point. His little angel all tied up and laid out, practically begging him to use your pretty mouth. He straddles your face, the head of his heavy cock brushes against your lips and you flick your tongue out. You moan at the taste of the bead of precum that gathered at the tip.
“Fuckin’ look at you, gonna let me use this little mouth?” He taps his cock against your outstretched tongue a few times before using his free hand to grip onto your hair, pulling your head back. “Open wide, slut.”
You stick your tongue out as far as it can go and he glides his length across it. He thrusts slow a few times before shoving his cock down your throat, causing you to gag.
“Yeah, that’s right, fucking choke on it.” You close your lips around him, taking a deep breath through your nose as he begins to assault your throat with rough thrusts. His groans are almost animalistic as he uses you for his own pleasure. You moan around his cock, clenching your thighs together at the feeling of being at his mercy. “Mmm bunny, this mouth is so fucking good. But I bet that little pussy is ever better. She was practically begging for me to fill her. Is that what you want?”
He uses his grip on your hair to pull you off his cock, leaning back so he can look down at you with a condescending pout.
“Please daddy, want it so bad. Want your cock, want your cum. Fill me up.” His large hand grips your face, punching your cheeks together as he tilts your head from side to side.
“You’re such a good little bunny, begging for daddy’s cock like my own personal little slut. That’s all you’re gonna be from now on. Mine to fill, to use, to fuck, to spoil. You’re never going to have to think about a single thing ever again.” He expertly undoes the tie binding your wrists, gripping onto your hips and flipping you onto your stomach again.
“Yes daddy, that’s all I want, just want you. Wanna be your good girl. Want you to take care of me.” You whine into the sheets. “Please fuck me daddy, please don’t make me wait any-“
You’re cut off abruptly when he pulls your ass up into the air, lining his cock up with your entrance. He fills you up in one rough thrust, your slick walls practically sucking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a brutal pace.
“Oh fuck yeah, this fucking pussy is even better than I imagined. You’re so fucking tight, never gonna stop fucking you baby. Gonna keep you full day and night.”
“Daddy daddy daddy, it feels so good. So good. You’re so big.” You let him take you, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over. You’re gripping the sheets so tight you’re scared your new nails are going to tear through them and drool is dripping down your chin and onto the fabric.
“Yeah, fucking take it, slut. Take this fucking dick.” He leans forward, his thick forearm snaking around your throat. He uses his grip on you to pull you up so your back is flush against his chest. You didn’t think anyone could ever be so deep inside of you, and the pressure on your throat makes your head light in the best way.
“Oh my god, daddy, I’m gonna cum.” His free hand finds your clit, and the minute he’s circling it your orgasm is crashing over you. You thrash in his hold, a pornographic moan ripping through you.
“Fuck yes angel, fucking cum for your daddy. Pussy is fucking squeezing me. Gonna make me cum. Look at me.” His hand leaves your clit, roughly gripping onto your jaw so he can pull your head to the side. It’s borderline painful the way your neck is craned so you can look up into his blue eyes. But when he smashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss you can’t bring yourself to care.
Rafe continues to fuck into you, his tongue invading your mouth, intertwining with yours. He pushes his hips flush against your ass as he reaches his high, filling you with ropes of his cum.
“That’s it, good fucking girl. You're so good for me.” He releases your throat, pulling out of you slowly, causing you to whine. He eases you onto your back, leaning over top of you to place a much more tender kiss than before on your lips. “Let me clean you up baby.”
He gets up, quickly wetting a washcloth in the ensuite bathroom. He rushes back to your side, running the warm cloth along your folds.
“Mmm thank you, daddy. That feels nice.” You hum.
“Yeah? Gotta take care of my angel, you’re my responsibility now. I’m going to do everything and anything you need.” He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side so you can rest your head on his chest. “I am sorry about the way I went about this. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat. The first day I saw you I knew I needed to have you. Knew you were meant for me.”
“I feel the same, daddy. All you had to do is ask. Although, I must admit, it was honestly pretty sexy this way. You might be observant but there’s still a lot you have to learn about me.” You happily nuzzle into his chest. You’ve never felt so safe before. “I love my room by the way, it’s perfect. Does this mean I don’t get to sleep with you though?” You pout.
“Of course you get to sleep with me, Angel. I just wanted you to have a space of your own here.” He runs his fingers through your hair, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “There’s going to be ground rules that I want you to follow, but we can go over those when you’re more clear headed. Wanna take a bath?”
“Yeah Rafey, a bath sounds nice.”
1K notes · View notes
bomber-grl · 2 months ago
Text
What being their crush is like
Pairing(s): Characters x Gn!Ninja!Reader (teammate)
Character(s): Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha
Naruto Uzumaki
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An absolute fool for you
The only ways you could’ve caught this morons affections is by either being attractive or being kind to him back when you both first started out at the academy
Either way he’s absolutely smitten and so when he hears your name called out after his in class- he’s ecstatic that you’ll be on the same team
If you have a crush on someone else he’d be pretty bummed out but it won’t deter him
(He was especially motivated by sasuke and Sakura- it was just to get him away from them)
He’ll try to buy you ramen, flowers, honestly just anything to show you that he’s the most suitable suitor
Which couldn’t be further from the the truth (in the eyes of everyone else)
He’d be so open about liking you
Well, when he’s not around you
He’ll always talk about you and how wonderful you are- it’s so painfully obvious to any outsider looking in
And when someone brings up his more than obvious crush on you he’d flush and act as if they had gone mental
Like what
Also bonus points to you if you constantly back him up when he’s being teased and support his dream to be hokage
Literally +1000 points
Well a certain period of time passes and throughout said period he’s constantly flirting with you
How? Well he’s always complimenting your fighting/ jutsu and trying to ask you out on a date
If you are even slightly hesitant to respond
Like by a milisecond- then he’d rub the back of his head and laugh it off
Going on about how he was just joking and I don’t know what
Then one day you end up accepting
Which is funny because of the fact that he left a very traditional love note hidden somewhere he knew you’d fine
[insert you going home and finding it]
Literally not surprising to anyone and most people would assume that Naruto would confess boldly
But I disagree- he’d be pretty shy and uncertain despite his tendency to be reckless
If you accept or not will be up to you but the next time you see him he’s all awkward and stuff but still manages to try and play it off
It’s up to you to break the ice
Sakura Haruno
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Again, Sakura likely started liking you because of your attractiveness
It was just a surface level crush until she saw that you had an actual good character
She’s so beyond happy that you’ll be on the same team, I’m not even exaggerating
You’re all in the same class and so as classmates you’re all bound to have crushes on the same people
That’s to say- a good amount of people also had a crush on you and the moment your name was announced alongside hers-
She just mentally imagined flipping them all and shoving it in their faces
Miss girl is honestly so sweet, she’s always trying to spend time with you and if you have any trouble with anything
E.g. ninjutsu, fighting, etc. she’ll always be there to help
Maybe a little too willing at times
Now, we all know that Ino and Sakura have had this rivalry and often banter
Well, all of a sudden (if Ino isn’t fighting over you) she’s probably making fun of you and being very loud about her opinion on you
It’s either that she thinks you and Sakura are a perfect match (negative) or that you’re terrible and not the best option (also negative)
Either way you’re catching strays
Sakura obviously gets riled up over this and tries to defend you no matter where or when
Which leads to you being there for Sakuras Chunin exams and experiencing the whole match
It’s an event that leads to character growth- but when she goes back she doesn’t expect you to be there waiting for her
She’s honestly flattered you’d wait for her and is mentally smug about it
When she flirts with you it’s honestly super obvious too
I can’t even deny that
Like at times she’d defend you and act as though you’re always right and idk what else (which is her odd way of flirting because she sort of stares)
And then sometimes she just opens up about private stuff around you during the quiet moments
Plus she also gifts you little trinkets- like flowers or something casual and small
Either way- when she confesses it’s probably spontaneous asf
Like you’re walking around at night and she gets this urge to just spill her guts
And she does
She’s basically like why the hell not be like Naruto
She’s super flushed and awaits your response right then and there
If you like her back and know it- that’s that
But if you tell her you need to time to figure it out then she’ll accept
Just know she’s lying awake at night wondering regretting it
Sasuke Uchiha
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He acts super neutral towards you
Which wouldn’t be an obvious pointer that you’re his crush towards the average person but cmon
He’s sasuke
So ofc it’s obvious he has a crush on you
Honestly the only way I’d see him having a crush on you would be if you were close to him pre massacre and have been by his side since forever
(Unless you’re willing to wait the long game *cough*cough* slow burn)
He’d be pretty dependent on you while also being super independent
It’s honestly confusing sometimes
When it comes to the whole you being apart of his team, he doesn’t feel a particular way about it
(Or so he tells himself)
He’d try so hard to be nonchalant around you
Like not even joking
But if someone insults you or does something slightly disrespectful- he’s giving them the death glare
And then excuses it with just being annoyed by (more often than not) Naruto
Since he usually pokes fun at ppl and stuff
(If you didn’t know him before the academy and even if you did) He’d probably admire your skills and how smart you are
Like he’d watch you from afar and is honestly jealous and simultaneously sees you as a rival
Again, super confusing.
The most affection you’d get from him at this stage is his (once in a lifetime) compliment about your fighting or something
Then he’d walk away
You’re left standing there super confused while he walks away with a light blush dusting his cheeks
He ain’t fooling nobody
He obviously feels super weird about having a crush on you because of his whole mission on finding his brother and -
Yea.
So even though he does like you more than he’d want to admit- he would never confess
Not likely
Which is what you thought
Until you find out that Sasuke left the village and there’s no point in trying to go after him or anything at all really
It’s a betrayal to you and everyone else
It’s dark by the time you get home and enter your room
You pick up this thing Sasuke had given you- his excuse? It wasn’t worth his time and so he had given it to you
You didn’t care much for his excuse and just kept it on your dresser
Upon closer inspection you noticed a paper sticking out and obviously took it out
It was a letter- one could argue it was sasuke confessing
He went on about how he liked was ok being around you and the paper note wasn’t all that long
Just a few lines (if any)
There was a rip towards the bottom and you were left wondering what it would’ve said
Spoiler - it was Sasukes actual confession that he cowardly ripped off and threw into a body of water, hoping you’d never find it
-
A/n: got a tad carried away
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floswife · 1 year ago
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SORE LOSER - T.N X READER
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Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader
Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other
Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?
Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀
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Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.
Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?
She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.
In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.
After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.
“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.
He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”
He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.
“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.
“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.
He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.
“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.
Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.
He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.
“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.
He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.
“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”
He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.
“Being such a good girl for me.”
He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”
He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.
He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”
Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”
He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.
“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.
She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.
“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”
She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it
He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”
Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.
“Theo!” She gasped.
He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”
“What-“
And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.
She really did hate him.
But he was so hot.
Looks like she had plans for the night.
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Part two?
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bet-on-me-13 · 1 year ago
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The Ghost King's Son
So! Cloning is a difficult process.
It takes time, lots of time. Sure, it's possible to accelerate the Growth of a Clone to make them older in a shorter time frame, but that often leads to Destabilization within weeks of completion.
And Cadmus didn't want to take any chances when designing their Kryptonian/Human Hybrid. They started growing him much earlier than they originally did, and let him grow at a semi-normal rate for most of his life.
This comes back to bite them in the butt however, when an asset breaks out of containment and ruins their Internal Power Generators. This causes a blackout that takes hours to resolve, and by the time they fix it all and reestablish the Security Systems, they notice one of the Clones is missing.
The Kryptonian/Human Clone has escaped.
...
Kr-1 is confused. He had woken up in a tube a few hours ago to some alarms, and decided he didn't like it, so he broke out. Then he wandered around until he ended up outside, and just kept on Wandering.
It had been hours, and he didn't know where he was. It seemed to be some type of Forest, but he didn't know what kind.
He just kept on wandering. It started to get boring though, the trees all looked the same and there weren't even any animals around. Then, something interesting happened!
A green thing appeared in the air! It was glowing and swirly and had a kind of pull to it. So, he touched it. And it sucked him in. And now he wasn't in the Forest. And this place seemed much more interesting!
There were a bunch of floating rocks, and the sky was green, and everything else was purple.
And there was a man. Looking at him hurt his eyes, he seemed to be a kid and then an man and then an old man and then a kid again whenever he blinked. He was saying something, but Kr-1 didn't understand him. He didn't think he had been taught language yet? What was language?
The Kid/Man/Old-Man lead him to a big building made of bricks and mortar. It looked like a big spiky building with towers and walls and stuff. Inside it looked cool, with candles and carpets and even more stuff.
He was taken to a room with a guy who didn't hurt his eyes to look at. He had white hair and green eyes, but his skin wasn't blue like the old guy. He had a piece of ice on his head, it looked like a crown but it was glowing.
The Guy walked up to him and pointed to himself, and kept repeating something. "Danny".
Eventually Kr-1 realized that it was his name. He then pointed to Him and said "name?"
He tilted his head confused, and the guy, Danny, let his head fall with a sigh.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought."
He wondered what those words mean?
...
It had been a few years since the newly dubbed Conner had begun to live with Danny.
He had been hesitant to adopt the Living 9 yr old Child when Clockwork had brought him to his Castle, explaining that he had run into a Natural Portal, but he had accepted in the end.
It took a while to teach Conner how to understand Language. He seemed to know very little for a kid his age, but after Clockwork had dug around his personal timeline they figured out that he was a Clone. He probably hadn't reached the Information Planting Stage of development when he escaped.
After learning about this however, Danny began teaching him everything he should have learned in his early life, such as Elementary level education and some social interaction. He even brought around Ellie to see if she had any advice for helping him develop into a healthy young boy.
She did help a bit, but was mostly preoccupied with spoiling her new Nephew rotten.
Eventually, Conner had caught up to the level he should have been at his age, and started living in both the Realms and in Amity.
He was having a good life, had some great friends, and was even starting to learn to use his Kryptonian Powers now that they were coming in.
He loves his new Family, his Dad is goofy and fun, his Aunt Ellie likes to spoil him rotten, his Aunt Jazz is the responsible one but still loves him, and even his grandparents are great in their own Insane way.
But not all great things can last.
...
It was supposed to be a normal Field Trip. Conner was 15 and his school was taking a Trip to Washington DC, to see the sights or to learn about history or something.
But stuff happens. They just so happen to pass by a certain lab, that lab just so happens to be testing out a new Yellow Sun Energy Detector, and one of the Scientists who worked on Conner just so happens to see him in the bus as it passes by and the detector goes off.
In the end, they manage to recapture him and place him back into his Pod, beginning to prep him for Reeducation. (Let's say they mamage to repress his memories)
Cut to 1 year later and a team of Sidekicks break into the Lab and successfully steal away the Clone again.
The Clone who knows he had a dad who had black hair and blue eyes, who helped him use his powers, who looks a lot like Superman.
Conner, in his slightly Amnesiac state thinks he has already met Superman and that he had raised him. Which makes it so much more hurtful when Superman outright rejects him. He thinks his Dad just rejected him, the Dad who he thinks he remembers loving him very much.
(Danny had been frantically looking for his son for over a year now. Where is he? Is he Okay? What happened to him? He knows at least that he isn't dead yet, but he really wants to find his son)
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tranceinnumerabletabs · 14 days ago
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When Johnny Comes Back
A/N: I read this and was inspired to write. I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it. Tell me if you'd like a part two.
Roommate!Johnny that made It feel inevitable.
He was just so…so….him! His bastard attitude, his fuckass Mohawk he made you like tolerate, his motherfucking Shrek accent. No, you won’t stop calling it that. It’s stupid and silly which is why you smile or look down when he talks to you, no other reason. 
You’ve just…grown so fond of Johnny! ugh! How could he! The fondness grows in your heart like a cancerous growth with the only respite coming in the form of Johnny…..of.. Soap going on deployment for long periods of time, making you feel like a young doe-eyed maiden in the 1940s wistfully awaiting the return of her man from the war. The feeling only exacerbated every time you check to see if Sergeant John “Soap” Mactavish has send back a letter. 
Yes, a letter
Security restrictions, he says. As if that makes the feeling of being hooked on him easier to mask as you sit down and physically write to him that you’re……checking on him. 
(Why don’t you perfume the letter and kiss it while you’re at it Simp) 
But you know these feelings will go back to being strong when Johnny comes back. As soon as you hear the “honey I’m home!” And get crushed in the arms of a clingy Johnny you’ll be happy to see him.
You decide to be generous and send him a care package, as a thank you to all the times he’s ordered you breakfast and took care of you when you were sick, better now than when Johnny comes back, you suppose. You remember all he does when he’s here. Especially when you were sick he insisted on spoon feeding you like a baby. He ruffled your hair so gently as he coos that you’re the most adorable chipmunk, all puffy faced and squeaky. You remembered how you huffed, too weak to properly go off or even refute his incessant desire to hand feed you. He smiled and chuckled at your frowny and pouty tired face. He rubbed your back and beamed when you were well enough and no longer irritated at him enough to thank him for taking care of you. You remember that adorable look in his face. And you want to see it again when Johnny comes back, that roguish smile with slightly crooked teeth scrunching up a nose that clearly looked like it was broken one too many times, those shiny blue eyes that gripped you like vice, thos-
BZZ! 
Some notification from your phone brings you back to reality, what were you doing again? Oh yeah, making a care package. You check your phone, nothing important. 
You look at what you’ve added so far.
You first packed a bottle of scotch, technically against the rules but you put it inside a flask and shampoo bottles. You know he’ll figure it out…probably. 
Then you packed some candy he likes, instant coffee (better than what he gets), the letter you wrote him, it felt too romantic and like you really were a yearning maiden staring at the window awaiting your man so you made sure you called him a bastard at least 6 times, a dog 4, and a cunt 2 and Shrek once
And yet, as you try and place the letter you still feel shy, as if it’s still too personal. It still has the fondness you feel for him as you wrote how worried you are and that “you better not do anything stupid Johnny! Don’t die or I’ll make sure to sell your ashes to the British museum as Ancient Highlander Remains” you became more embarrassed about your feelings without him here to convince you of it’s normalcy by being overbearing. you hide it under some items as if that won’t allow him to find it anyway. You place some hygiene products, hand sanitizer, another scotch just in case, an adorable picture of your grumpy black cat with a RBF that Johnny named Simon for some reason. Should you add another scotch? Nah you could share this one when Johnny comes back. 
You chuckle to yourself, okay now you’re spoiling him. When Johnny comes back he’ll be all smug and egotistical, boasting loudly about how much you missed him and how he’ll definitely use this as a way to embarrass you in front of your friends again.
You try to calm your heart in these times. You try to quell the craving of a soft body on movie nights, but a pillow near his residual scent on the couch doesn’t ruffle your hair like you’re a pet like he does. You try not to yearn a bastardly attitude when you want to complain about something, but there’s no one there to be a bigger problem than the one you were upset about. 
You sigh, at least you could sleep in your bed after a movie instead of upright on a pyromaniac Scottish lad. 
He never gives concrete dates on his return. It’s always a vague timeframe like “a few months” or “when it’s done”  
It’s…part of the reason you think you’d never end up with him. You thought about his absence, his risky lifestyle, his fuckboy attitude. 
You sigh…at least you’ll have more to catch up on when Johnny comes back. 
Part 2
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stevie-petey · 10 months ago
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episode seven: the mind flayer
Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”
Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).
Rating: general, cursing
Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood
Words: 12.1k
Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)
-
Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.
Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.
Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.
“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”
“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.
Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”
“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.
You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.
“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.
“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.
“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”
“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”
The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.
Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”
“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”
“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.
It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.
After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”
“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.
The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”
“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.
“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”
You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”
“Mews? Who’s Mews?”
You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”
“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.
“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.
“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”
You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”
“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.
“Bullshit!”
“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”
“Oh, so now you admit it?”
You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”
Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”
“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”
“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”
“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”
“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.
You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.
The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.
As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.
“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.
You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.
You both freeze.
Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.
“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.
The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”
Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.
“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.
“Why are we headed towards the sound?”
“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”
Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”
The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.
“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.
You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”
The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”
“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.
You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.
“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.
You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –
As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.
Other people are here.
You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.
“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.
You stop.
“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.
It’s Jonathan.
Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.
When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.
“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.
Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”
“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.
You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”
“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.
“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.
Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.
“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”
You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”
“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.
Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”
Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”
Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.
“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”
“I’m okay–”
“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”
“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”
Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”
You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”
Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”
“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.
“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.
There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.
The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.
You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”
He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.
“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.
You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.
You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.
The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.
Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.
“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”
Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.
“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.
“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”
Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.
You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”
Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.
Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.
“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.
The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.
They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.
“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.
You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.
“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.
You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.
Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”
Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”
“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”
“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”
You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”
The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.
After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”
She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.
“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”
You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.
Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.
You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”
Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.
“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.
Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”
You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”
You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.
Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.
“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.
Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”
One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.
“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.
It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”
“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”
Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”
The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.
You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.
“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”
You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”
Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.
You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.
“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.
Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.
He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.
You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.
Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.
“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.
Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.
Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”
You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.
He will always say yes to you.
The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.
For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.
You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.
He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.
Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.
“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”
He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.
Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.
When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”
“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.
“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.
The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”
Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.
“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.
Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.
You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.
Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.
You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”
Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.
At least it’s a start.
You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.
As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.
“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”
At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.
Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.
Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.
Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.
Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”
Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”
Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”
Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”
You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>
“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”
“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.
You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”
“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”
“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.
“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”
You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”
The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”
“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.
Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”
Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”
“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”
Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.
“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.
“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”
“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”
You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.
“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.
“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.
Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”
“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.
“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”
Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”
“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”
Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”
Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.
Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”
“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.
You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.
Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”
“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.
All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.
Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”
“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.
It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.
And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.
Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”
Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.
You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.
“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”
“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.
Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”
“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”
“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.
“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”
Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”
“Flayer,” you gently correct.
“What does it want?”
Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”
Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”
“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.
“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”
Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.
However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”
You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.
Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.
Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?
You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.
“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”
When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”
You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”
Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”
“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.
Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”
“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.
“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.
“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”
Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”
“It’s a skill.”
Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.
“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.
“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.
“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”
Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”
“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.
“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”
Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.
Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”
“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.
Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”
Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.
One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.
It was unfair, really.
While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.
She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.
Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.
She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.
“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”
Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.
“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”
Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”
“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.
Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.
Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.
“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.
“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.
You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.
Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.
“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.
Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”
You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”
Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.
As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”
His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”
“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”
“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”
Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”
“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.
“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”
You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.
“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”
Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”
“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”
“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.
He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.
“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”
Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”
And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.
He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”
“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.
“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.
The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.
They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.
“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.
Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.
It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.
Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”
His words burn.
“Let’s just get back to the shed–”
“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”
“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”
Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”
“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.
He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.
It’s quiet after that.
In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.
You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.
Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.
Only this time it really is Will.
Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.
“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.
“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”
Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”
Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.
“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”
“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.
Better not to upset Hopper too much more.
The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”
Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”
Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”
“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”
Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”
And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.
It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.
“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.
“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.
Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.
You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.
Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”
“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”
“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.
Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”
Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.
You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.
“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”
At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”
He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.
Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.
Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.
You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.
With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.
Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.
Finally, silence.
The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.
Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”
You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.
After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.
Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”
You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.
“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”
“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.
You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.
After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.
Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.
“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”
“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.
Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”
You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”
Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.
“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”
Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.
“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”
You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”
Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.
Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”
You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”
Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.
“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”
As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.
Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”
You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.
“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”
Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.
“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.
You do your best to shield him from the world.
Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”
Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.
“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.
It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.
When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.
“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.
“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.
“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.
Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.
“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.
“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.
Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”
“You get used to it. Now shush.”
Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”
“Here.” Everyone says out loud.
“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.
Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”
Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.
A plan forms from there.
You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.
Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.
Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.
“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”
The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.
You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.
“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.
“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.
With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”
She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.
Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”
“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.
Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.
They’re close.
Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”
“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.
You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”
They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”
Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”
“Can you use this?”
While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”
Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”
You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.
Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.
Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.
You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.
All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.
“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.
You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.
Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.
You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”
The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.
“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.
“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.
As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.
It’s El.
She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.
She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.
You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.
She’s back.
El is alive.
-
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fallen-gravity · 18 days ago
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some thoughts on the moana 2 novelization, as threatened promised <3 under a readmore for spoilers and also because I don't trust myself to keep it short
(friendly reminder that I do not ship Maui and Moana! you can rb, but don't be weird about it)
Genuinely right off the bat I can't get over how loving Moana is described to be? She just loves others so much. She always describes Pua and HeiHei as her friends rather than her pets because of how much she cares about them!! it's so stupid cute that not only does she refer to Pua as her "loyal, adorable friend", but it's also implied that she handmade the little satchel he likes to ride in just for him. It eats me up inside!! She cares so much!!
The center island she's looking for is spelled as Motufetū!! I always love getting confirmation for these things, it makes things so much easier as a fic writer.
One of the souveniers she takes back with her alongside the broken pottery is a "massive clam". hello???? foreshadowing??? did everyone know about the giant clam guardian??
"For a man who had once forbidden her from going beyond the reef, he now spent quite a lot of time beyond it himself." AUUWHAAHHH THAT LINE KILLED ME WE LOVE TO SEE GROWTH FROM TRAUMA
"He loved her enthusiasm, but she seemed overexcited, and she was still his daughter, and he wanted to take care of her" MOANA!!! IS!!! SO LOVED!!!!
Loto's tool is called an adze! also she's apparently only 17?? two years younger than Moana?? not at all what I would've pegged her as, honestly
The storytelling tapestries are called siapos!!! more terminology!!!
"Her eyes darted to the image of Maui carved into the wall. She hadn't seen him since her return to Motunui, and she missed him. Not that she would admit it out loud" STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU STRANGLING YOU
"Humans, were in fact, why he was here now, in this unknown realm of the gods looking at the pinkish white ball in front of him. At least, he thought that might be why he's here. These missions to benefit humans didn't always come with clear instructions" immediately followed by thinking about the trip to Te Fiti with Moana. What a dumbass <3 "I'm doing it for them and I don't know why? totally unrelated note haha that trip to Te Fiti with Moana was fun :)"
Never saw any of that journey coming, never could brute force his way through it, worth every second. Only considers getting the hook back as an afterthougt, ougghhhhhhh
Homeboy sucks at pretending that he doesn't care about Moana. He's talking to Matangi for all of two seconds and he's all "I'm a changed person! For um. no particular reason! It was definitely because of the thousand year isolation and nothing else whatsoever!"
There's no finite explanation for why Maui's there, but he credits Moana for making him a better person for being the reason. Something about breaking the curse? It's never made clear, even in the book.
Mini Maui selling him out for bullshitting about hating Moana is even funnier in the book, like Maui goes "yeah lol that girl was just a tool I uused to get my hook back" and Mini Maui starts pounding on him. Homeboy Moana can't even hear you and you're still mad at Maui for bullshitting, it kills me. Maui tries shooting him down. "Mini Maui wasn't convinced" has me in stitches
Maui's internal dialogue shifting to "oh wait, yeah, I wanted to surprise her with a visit. Oops." while he's tied up also has me in stitches. ffs, maui, get your priorities straight
"He refused to let Moana be hurt or threatened" I am on the floor
Every time Tui calls Moana "my dear" it adds ten years to my lifespan
The siapo of Maui in the storytelling fale is so lifelike that "it's as if he were about to jump off the fabric at any moment and start teasing her." that's so stupid cute!!!! also so stupid sad that she probably talks to it a lot hoping that it'll work someday. ough.
"Maui was having a bad day. Actually, he was having a lot of bad days"." feels like it was pulled right from a fic I would've written in 2018, I'm screaming
"I don't need her to save me...again" swallowing the earth as we speak
Curly still being the default nickname is also taking me out I need to be given financial compensation asap
There's a parallel that got lost in translation from page to movie, there's the bit where Moana's like "I'm sure Maui's off doing important demigod stuff, wherever he is", but there's also a bit of internal monologue where Maui's like "I hope Moana's faring better than I am, wherever she is" I'm gonna conk their heads together y'all need to communicate
The book directly mentions Moana and her crew passing Te Fiti. Did I miss that from the movie? Did they show Te Fiti, or is this a book-exclusive detail?
Their little Kakamora buddy has a name!! Kotu we don't deserve you. Also he's the Chief Kakamora's son! I just thought he was second in command. That's a whole baby
Maui knows who Pua is, somehow! He sees Pua waddling around and his first thought is "okay, this is weird, why do these people have Moana's pig with them?". Doesn't even remotely click that she could be with them. He's actually about to leave until HeiHei shows face and boy is he absolutely mortified. It eats me up inside. Instant shift of "goodbyeeeeee random humans I don't liiiike!!!" to oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, where is she????
Incredibly suspicious that Moana is the human that has all the gods talking. Something too about Maui having to force himself not to care about her. Did someone do a little too much bragging about his favorite human?
"I thought you'd be...more." okay a) I def think Maui's been overhyping her and b) haha More callback we love to see it
Also, Matangi's just a demigoddess! Not a goddess at all. interesting, interesting, interesting
Moana also sucks at priorities, one single mention of Maui and she instantly shifts to oh, oh my god, is he here? is he nearby? where is he?
Moana recognizes the Portal of the Gods as similar to the entrance to Lalotai...does that mean Lalotai is connected to the Realm of the Gods, in some way? are they the same place under a different name? also all :') that the dance she does to open the portal is specifically meant to be a copy of the haka that Maui did in the first movie.
You know, I think you need her just as much as she needs you. WHAT DOES IT MEAAAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? WHAT DOES IT MEAN??? WHERE DID THAT COME FROM???? YOU NEED EACH OTHER??? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW?? WHY DO THE GODS KNOW????
The first thing Moana does when she's back on her canoe is look for Maui because she thinks he's gone 🥹 wants to go back and look for him until she realizes he's the reason she's dangling in the air. Did he stop her from falling off the canoe? ough, I'm deceased
I can't get over Moana assuming he just wants to catch up, they are both such chronic babblers.
"His expression was both happy and annoyed." I'm losing my shit.
"But yeah, it is good to see you again" 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹.
"The fire in the sky lead us to you" can we stop with the written in the stars stuff. can we stop. my poor heart can't take it. platonic soulmates fr. "maybe we're supposed to do this together." THE GODS KNOW!!!! THEY KNOW!!!
"Maui bit back a smile." kill me. kill me. i'm dead on the spot. kill me.
Ohhhhh, I always love seeing what they do in place of the songs and the replacement for "Can I Get a Chee-Hoo?" kills me most of all, I think. Maui still goes to sit with her, but when Moana starts talking about all the people she's gonna let down, he comes to a screeching halt when she mentions Simea.
"If anyone should be upset, it should be me. Since when do you have a sister?"
"You would've met her, if you ever came to visit me." OUCH! OUCH! OUCH!!! She's trying to tease him but there's a tinge of hurt in her voice, like she feels like he doesn't care enough about her to take the time for her!! You need her as much as she needs you!!!!!
"Three years is a blip to me, princess," says the liar who thought about her on a near-daily basis!!!!
"Empathy wasn't Maui's strong suit. But he seemed to be trying- for her. and that dulled the pain a little" i am in my grave. i am in my grave.
"Why are you even here?" -> "Because...because I've been low before, and I couldn't see my path. And someone came along who I underestimated and she lifted me up. Someone I don't want to underestimate herself right now." THROWING UP!!!!!
"Wow, you're the worst at this." -> "Maui pretended to look offended" conking their heads together as we speak they are so SWEET!!!!!
Maui giving her all the credit for being the one to defeat Nalo!!! not himself!!!! her!!!!!!!
"Maui said he was better for knowing her. That had to count for something" 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
It still destroys me that Maui's entire priority is keeping Moana safe!!! He's not just diving in to fight, he keeps going back to make sure they're all safe!!! that's all that matters to him!!!
God their little exchanges are so stupid they're killing me. "Nalo doesn't care about you!" "Yes he does! I'm Maui!!" "THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!!" dumbasses <3
oooh he really doesn't want to separate, his eyes keep going back and forth between Moana and the monster storm :')
Okay. okay. okay. listen. there's a lot more to Maui's goodbye in the book than in the movie. In the book it's an apology. It's a rushed explanation on why he hadn't gone back to visit her prior. He lied about not having the time for her. All his time has been about and for her.
The reason I didn't visit...was 'cause you made me want to be better. You deserve the whole ocean...I wanted you to have it. Watch yourself out there. I could pull up millions of islands, but if you're not there to land on them, what's the point?
FOR!!!! HER!!!!! EVERYTHING!!!! IS!!!!! FOR!!!!! HER!!!!!
He hated leaving Moana and her crew behind,
He trusted her.
God, coud you imagine? First movie Maui, getting his hook destroyed? Those three words hold more power than anything. He trusted her. If anyone can do this it's her. He trusts her. He trusts her.
His thoughts kept drifting back to Moana. Nothing else matters!!! He could be all full of himself and think about how heroic he's being for The Humans (other) and all he's thinking about is his Favorite Human.
The thought of failing her pushed on him as the weight of the water grew heavy.
WHO WROTE THIS!!!! WHO READ OUR FANFICS!!!!! WHO KNEW!!!!!
His tattoos glowing with the power of the gods the first time he tries lifting Motufetū.....were there other gods that were helping him? are there gods who know?? Te Fiti if you're out there,,,,,,,,,
Moana rushing to protect Maui when lightning barely misses him the first time is.........destroying me?? taking me out??? imagine being protective over a demigod literally pulling an island out of the sea. imagine trying to take many hits for him. using her conch shell to call out to the storm to hit her instead? Maui yelling at her to Not do that? probably because it's breaking his own heart to watch?? ough.
"It went against every instinct, but Moana knew she had to listen to him." THAT'S ALSO GROWTH!!! KEEPING THEM BOTH SAFE BY NOT PUSHING HERSELF FROWARD!!!! GROWTH!!!!!
Maui getting hit by three strikes of lightning, and he uses what he thinks are his last dying moments to say goodbye to Moana. He locks eyes with her, gives her a sad smile, and yells Find your way, kid. Just to her. Just loud enough that she's the only one who can hear. and oh boy is this book brutal about that fourth and "fatal" lightning strike. It's strong enough to fry him. It launches him up so high in the air that Moana can't even see him
So, uh...fun fact! The reason Moana doesn't instantly dive in the water to go after him is because she thinks she's too late and that he's dead on impact. She doesn't even see him hit the water.
"Moana gasped as she felt her necklace pop open and her shell- Simea's shell- toppled out. Frantically,she reached for it, ignoring the danger around her. She couldn't lose that shell. She had already lost so much."
She thinks of everyone she loves when she's about to dive into the water and reach for Motufetū herself and Maui's among them right alongside her family. God. If there were ever a more indirect found family confirmation............
Lightning flashed, illuminating the sky and filtering through the water. Moana hoped that her crew was okay. That Maui had somehow survived. RIGHT!!! FROM!!!! THE FICS!!!! I SWEAR THIS IS PULLED RIGHT FROM THE OLD FICS!!!
His hook was missing, but he didn't care. He dove in after Moana. Hi, yes, 2018-era me is screaming out from inside me. She's clawing her way out of my chest. This is everything she's ever needed.
Fun fact part two! I don't remember how it was in the movie, but Maui watches Moana die too!! I think in the movie he just sees her still body on the surface of Motufetū, but in the book he dives under the water just a moment sooner and helplessly watches the lightning strike through her body. He watches her go still and sink towards the ocean floor :) Now they both have the trauma of watching each other die! :) :)
He tries desperately to catch her before she hits the floor but there are multiple instances of him being knocked back by a shockwave :') The gods sure have found his weakness!!!
He pushed through it. Nothing was stopping him from reaching Moana.
The grieving!!! The grieving is so fierce!!
Isn't it fun?? He practically has a burial ceremony for her! He catches her before her body hits the floor, and he places her gently on the surface of the island so she can fulfill her story! God! I'm unwell! He places Simea's little shell next to her body so Moana can be close to her sister one final time!
Then, kneeling next to her, he put his hand to his heart. It rested on the tattoo of Moana that had appeared after their last adventure. It had been his constant reminder in the three years since how strong a human could be. 🥹🥹🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
It's just...he doesn't even realize the ocean is creating a dome around them! He's that grief-striken!!
The ocean knows them. It knows what they need. He calls it Moana's. Moana's ocean. aUGGHHHHHH.
Hey so all of that talk about Maui not allowing himself to let the gods know that Moana's his friend and then he's begging them. He's begging the gods and her (her? his? huamnity in general?) ancestors to save her because she deserves more than this. she deserves better. If any of the gods knew nothing of the two of them they sure as hell did now, ohhhhhh boy is that gonna screw him over later :')
So the book never explicitly states she's a demigoddess either! It very ominously states that She'll never be the same.
Moana gets to see her ancestors this time! I can't remember if she woke up before they disappeared in the movie, but when she wakes up her thought process goes wait, where am I? to oh, shit, MAUI?!?!? to TAUTAI VASA? TALA?? HELLO??? someone please invent therapy already she's gonna need it pretty desperately
god imagine if she thought maui was also dead?? she doesn't but ohhhh. ohhhhhh the angst potential of her thinking they're all there to see her off. god.
Shock and awe. That's all Moana can get out of Maui's expression when she catches him staring.
Mini Maui, the more accurate voice, is bawling his little eyes out when he sees that Moana's okay
Moana understands the implications instantly. and she knows that she's only alive now because Maui prayed for her
"Arching an eyebrow, she nodded over her shoulder. It was time they raised an island- togehter". SICK!!! TO!!! MY!!! STOMACH!!!
"She saw Maui, a familiar comfort in this uncharted territory" [AGGRESIVE TABLE SLAMMING] THAT'S FOUND FAMILY BAYBEEEEE
:') there's a big group hug with Moana's crew and Maui tries to wiggle his way to the center. That's almost shot for shot a scene from one of the first Moana fics I ever wrote back in December of 2017 :') turning into a little lizard and skittering into the center of the hug where Moana is because he wants a proper hug too :')
Okay so I definitely know for sure that when it says the villagers of Motunui are shocked Maui's there because they've heard so many stories about him that it's just the regular old legacy stories. but listen. let me be deluisional. it's because Moana always tells stories and Moana's like. known around the island as his best friend. so it's like!!! oh!!! there he is!!! Tautai Moana's best friend!!!! :')
He calls Simea Mini Moana!!!! weeping and sobbing
Simea's big brown eyes familiar. He Also calls Simea tugging on his ear Very Familiar. That's so stupid cute. I wonder if he ever visited when Moana was out voyaging and he ran into Simea if he'd be able to tell that she was her little sister? :') also hilarious because I'm sure it implies Moana told him Simea wanted to yell at him and he went "yeah okay that's fair"
(still lowkey sad Maui never gets included in the family hugs. Ohhhh if they ever found out what he did to save her they'd pull him straight in for sure)
MAUI STAYS!!! CONFIRMATION THAT HE STAYS!!!!
He stays long enough for things to calm down. He and Moana head out by themselves to help their little Kakamora buddy reunite with his family (cough cough)
Moana goes from "that kid" to his "dear friend." cherished. beloved. it's not even relelvant to the plot. He just smiles at her and goes "where to now?" and it's just. that's his dear friend!!! god!!!! so beloved!!! that feels like it holds even more weight than best friend!!!
god. god. I really gotta write a fic where they talk about watching each other die
good shit!!! gooood shit!!! I'm gonna be screaming about this forever. god.
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imfinereallyy · 2 years ago
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Steve Harrington hadn’t talked to his dad in a year.
The last thing the two of them had talked had been after the earthquakes, across the room in the den; his dad barely stepped through the front entryway, and Steve’s back pressed against the back door. The house was messy but still standing, unlike Steve, who was broken and barely keeping himself upright. The only thing Richard Harrington had said to Steve was,
“I think it’s time to move on.” Which was his way of telling Steve they were selling the house and he should figure out his own arrangements. Steve hadn’t cared, though. Didn’t even look at him as he spoke. Instead, he stared at the cracks in the ceiling and wondered if it was some kind of metaphor.
He tried not to think too deeply about it.
It had been a year since then. There had been time to move on, as his dad said. There was no more Upside Down. There was no more worrying about the next move. Max and Eddie were healed. Everyone was back in Hawkins. Robin and Steve lived in a little house on Fifth while Robin took community courses. Eddie practically lived there, too, with the strange friendship bond that had grown between the three of them.
Eddie had argued once it was because their couch was comfier than his bed, but Steve liked to think it was because Eddie wanted to be close to them. To be close to him. Sometimes Steve thought about letting him stay in his bed together.
Time had not moved to that yet.
Everything seemed good. Despite Steve’s resentment towards Richard, and his reluctance to admit the man was right, sometimes it was good to let things go, break apart and move on. Though Steve was sure, this wasn’t exactly what Harrington Sr. meant.
Steve hadn’t talked to his father in over a year. And he didn’t really miss him. Sure, there were moments that passed when Steve would yearn for the small happy moments between them. Secret smiles at baseball games, lunch at his office, and him cheering Steve on at the one swim championship he managed to show up to.
But it always got mixed in with bigger, badder moments. Being left alone for months on end. The belittling. The missed graduation. The yelling. The slurs when he grew his hair out too long. The cold way he said to Steve,
“I think it’s time to move on.”
Like he had been breaking up with a high school sweetheart before leaving for college.
So Steve didn’t miss the man, not really. But in moments like these, in the back of the Byers-Hopper’s backyard at the Father’s Day BBQ, where all party members and parents alike gathered, Steve couldn’t help but ache.
Steve ached for something better than Richard Harrington.
It wasn’t because of parents who stuck around that made Steve’s stomach churn in jealousy, but the ones who decided to show up. It was the way Wayne threw his arm around Eddie’s shoulder and the cheers their beers to something probably ridiculous. The way Steve knew that man would crawl to the ends of the earth for someone who wasn’t technically his, but was nothing short of a son.
It was the way El and Hop manned the grill together. Him laughing at something El said, probably something ridiculous, and her smile back that could light up the sun. The way Steve knew that El wasn’t a replacement for the things Hop had lost, but instead an addition to his life he would choose over and over again.
Steve ached to be loved and care for because someone wanted to. Not because of obligation or by accident. Steve wanted to loved deliberately.
Steve sipped his beer instead of bringing down the celebration with his thoughts. Eddie caught Steve’s eye across the yard and gave him a megawatt smile. Steve couldn’t help but smile shyly back.
“Hey, Steve.” A shy voice said beside him, startling him out of his thoughts. Steve turned to find Dustin standing beside him, nearly up to his nose now with his recent growth spurt. Steve couldn’t help but miss when he was small and could throw him over his shoulder.
Steve was a little surprised to find him there. Dustin wasn’t one to speak small or shy. He liked to make his presence known (much like the lovable metal head he was staring down earlier).
“Hey bud, what’s up?”
Dustin looked around the two of them before answering. Everyone else was with their dads, or talking to one of the party members. Even Robin managed to wrangle her dad and Mr. Sinclair into a conversation about WWII. Dustin looked a little relieved everyone was doing their own thing.
“Okay so you know how like, everyone is celebrating their dad today? And mine isn’t here?”
Steve felt his stomach drop. Somehow in the midst of his self-pitying, he had forgotten that Dustin’s dad wasn’t around either. Didn’t even stick around long enough for his first words. “Yea, dude, I’m sorry this must suck for you.”
Dustin looked nervous. He shifted on his feet back and forth, as if he was trying to find a rhythm to calm himself down. “Yea, so that’s what I actually came over to talk to you about.”
“Yea, Dustin. Im here if you need to talk.”
Dustin seemed to finally be at ease and rolled his eyes at Steve. “No, asshole, I don’t need to talk. I haven’t thought about the dick in years, if I’m honest. I just, it’s something else. And you don’t get to be weird about it.”
“I’m confused.”
“That sounds about right.”
“Hey!” Steve laughed despite his protest. A year ago, stuff like that hurt Steve’s feelings. But now Steve knew it was all in good fun, that Dustin was kind of dick to everyone. And he knew that the joke wasn’t about his intelligence. It hadn’t been a long time, since Steve threatened to push him out of a moving vehicle last time. Steve was pretty sure it had to do with a particular conversation involving his feelings for more than women.
Only Dustin and Robin knew. She was overly supportive, and Dustin instantly made a joke. Both made Steve supported and safe.
The dumbasses.
“Not my fault this happens to you often.”
“Is there a point being made or are you here to just be a dick?” Steve questioned, laughing behind the lip of his beer.
Dustin fidgeted again before pulling something out his back pocket. “Just—promise not to laugh.”
Steve crossed his heart with a giggle before he took a folded white piece of paper out of Dustin’s hands.
Suddenly, Steve’s face got serious as he saw what was on the front.
A poorly drawn Steve with a nail baseball bat, with the title “Happy Father’s Day”.
Steve swallowed thickly before placing his beer on the ground and opening the card. There in Dustin’s chicken scratch, was a message.
Dear Steve,
Don’t be weird about this. Okay here it goes.
My dad wasn’t around a lot, big whoop. Big surprise. I honestly don’t care anymore. Don’t give me a look.
I honestly didn’t think I would really care about any of the dad stuff, didn’t feel like I was really missing out. My mom and her annoying love for cats has always been more than enough. But as time went by sometimes I thought maybe I would be better, I would be different if I had a dad. I see it with the rest of the party, how willingly or unwillingly they all reflect their dads. And how I don’t.
Sometimes I don’t feel like my whole self because if it. Thought maybe I would never really be a whole me because of it. That maybe the world was better off anyway because I know I am a lot.
But then I met you asshole.
I didn’t think I would like you, and more importantly I didn’t think you would like me. But suddenly we are battling worlds together, and you’re hanging out with me even outside the end of days, and I have a new best friend.
If I’m being honest I do see you more as a brother. Someone I look up to. But the more I think about it (again don’t be weird), I do see you as a dad some days. Although the hands on hips do scream mother hen, you’ve been a dad to me in the ways the asswipe who made someone as amazing as me hasn’t been.
You are brave, and funny and despite popular belief you are kind. One of the kindest people I know. You make me feel safe and loved, and give me rides despite me never giving you gas money. Some days I look in the mirror and see parts of you in me, and I feel proud.
Some days I look at you and hope that I can see the braveness and kindness in myself too. I don’t yet, but you make it feel possible.
I don’t need a sperm donor (thank you Robin for that one), I have the world’s okayest dad right here.
Love you brother, friend, dad.
Happy Father’s Day, from your fellow nerd,
Dustin <3
Steve was crying. He knew that. He knew he promised not to make it weird, but Steve couldn’t help it. The little shit got him right in the heart.
He couldn’t be blamed for scooping up Dustin in a hug. “I love you too, Dusty Buns.”
Dustin squeezed Steve tight, “You don’t get to call me that.” He grumbled, but Steve could feel his tshirt getting wet.
“As your father it is my right to get to call you embarrassing nick names.” Steve squeezed Dustin even tighter.
Dustin just laughed and pushed him away jokingly. They both wiped their eyes, but the smiles on their faces remained.
Steve thought about Richard at that moment again, about how he ached for someone to care. And maybe Steve would never get it, but he could be that someone for someone else. He could give that care, Dustin.
The little shit.
“Thank you Dustin.”
Dustin shook his head, his crooked smile remained. “Nah man, thank you.”
They both just stared at each other in comfortable silence before they were interrupted by a barking force.
“What are you two saps talking about?” Eddie slung his arms around the both of them, mouth spread wide in a grin. But then he noticed the tear tracks, and suddenly his face dropped.
Eddie took Steve’s face in his hands, “What’s wrong? What happened?”
Steve shook his head fondly, “Nothing—“ He started, preparing to wave it off. But then Steve realized he couldn’t lie to Eddie. “—nothing bad. Happy tears. I promise.”
Eddie looked at Steve for a moment before nodding, giving his face a tight squeeze, and then dropping his hands. “Okay, Stevie, as long as their happy tears.”
“What am I? Chopped liver?” Dusting grumbled.
“Aweee Dusty, I could never forget you!!” Eddie threw himself at Dustin in a horrible attempt at a hug.
Dustin just pushed him off before rolling his eyes. Steve swore they were gonna get stuck one day.
“Whatever, man. Just make sure that you treat my dad right, or I’m going to have to make some tough calls.” Dustin stared down Eddie seriously before laughing evilly and walking away.
Steve wanted to freeze at Dustin’s implication, but Eddie looked adorably confused, so Steve didn’t feel too bad.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Is this new? Him just getting protective about this without explaining?” Eddie asked Steve.
“Don’t worry about it.” Steve looked down at the card again wistfully, before glancing back up at Eddie. Steve took one of Eddie’s hands and started to play with his rings. A blush bloomed across Eddie’s cheeks; Steve wanted to kiss him. Instead, he just said,
“Just think he’s trying to be a little like his dad.”
***
Dad’s are complicated, and family isn’t always blood. I hope you enjoyed my little Father’s Day contribution. I do headcannon Hopper as Steve’s father figure/replacement, and usually write it that way but this seemed like a fun opportunity to show how Steve is his own father figure for others.
He is a good egg.
Now with Father’s Day over, my birthday is in two weeks which is making me feel all sorts of things. So I’m distracting myself with steddie. Either way expect a lot of writing and updates soon.
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deja-yu · 1 year ago
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Am I your favourite? Pt 2 - Choi San
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Genre: angst/fluff
Part 1
Warning: a lil angsty as San does not remember last night. Jealous San and instigator Yunho.
Note: I rewrote this a couple of times, I didn't expect part 1 to get so much love. I felt like I had to deliver something good and I got stressed about it lmao. I hope it will suffice &lt;3
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After the commotion the boys settled again and the teasing also died down fairly quick, you blame the alcohol in everyone's system. San was seemingly unfazed and had continued to peacefully nap on your thighs. 
You were staying the weekend in a rented house with the others. And eventually the night became too dark and collectively you decided to call it quits. 
You could feel eyes on you as you tried to wake San. Some gentle rocking and calling of his name did the trick. As soon his eyes opened they meet yours, a smile immediately found its place on his face. "Go to bed Sannie" you whisper softly which causes the smile to turn into a pout, "but I am comfy" he mumbles making you roll your eyes. "I want to go to bed San, please" he reluctantly gets up from your lap.  San sees everyone looking at you two before they suddenly try to look occupied with other things. He gives you a questioning look but you just laugh and shrug. 
Seemingly still drunk San stumbles when he gets up, you get up to help him but your legs also protest. Having fallen asleep as a result of San lying on them for over an hour. Yunho is quick to steady you and surprise you with his sudden appearance. "You still want to share a room with me?" he asks in a teasing tone. Which doesn't get missed by you but for San the teasing went right past him and jealousy once again blossomed in his chest. "Noo.. I wanne cuddle y/n" "ohhh since you're a favourite you think you can just steal her away from me?" Yunho quips back at San. Slowly blinking the latter seems confused "I am you favourite?" He questions with a blush. "You don't remember?" he tilts his head in question and shakes his head no. 
A little pang of hurt shoots through your heart. Maybe you took his confession a little too serious, he was drunk after all. But you can't help feeling hurt about how he doesn't remember. It was just a peck but you've been crushing on San for a while. Probably since Yunho introduced you to his friends.
You turn to Yunho wanting nothing more than to leave the situation. You watch Yunho's eyes flicker to you with surprise at San’s statement, concern flashes before he looks back at the reason for your hurt. "Sober up and try to remember" is all he says before taking your hand and tugging you along. You can hear Wooyoung calling San a dumbass to which he just sounds even more confused but the argument quickly moves out of earshot and you don't look back.
There were two single beds in the room you and Yunho share. Which meant you could sleep separately without an issue. Because sharing a single bed with Yunho hasn't been a thing since his growth spurt. After which the two of you couldn't comfortably sleep in his lightning mcqueen bed anymore. Yunho refuses to sleep without talking first, struggling to keep his eyes open as he looks at you from the other bed. It has been quiet for a while. "He was just clingy drunk" you mumble softly after his eyes were closed for a while, half expecting him to already be asleep. But his chest rumbles before he answers "Still.. I get that you're hurt. But he probably wouldn't have done it if he didn't like you" you snort "probably" Yunho sighs at your sarcasm "You know what I mean. Like drunk words are sober thoughts or something?" humming as a response you wonder how you will face San tomorrow. Maybe you could get out the house before breakfast and just go home early. But you doubt that would go unnoticed. Seonghwa might call 911 for possible abduction. 
It's a comfortable silence between you and Yunho. His presence helps calm you down enough for the tiredness to creep back into your body. Soon you hear little snores coming from his bed, indicating he was off to dreamland. You got up and turned off the lights before getting back in bed. 
Sunlight peeking through the curtains wakes you, Yunho is still sleeping peacefully in the other bed. The grumble of your stomach is enough for you get up and go to the kitchen. You find Seonghwa on one of the bar stools, his face lightens up at your arrival. "Did you sleep well?" shrugging you complain you're still tired which makes him chuckle. "Me too. I wasn't too sure if I should make breakfast already since nobody else was up" he says as you open the fridge. "Well, some did look pretty messed up last night so you might be waiting a long time. We can make pancakes and the rest can use the batter to make their own if they don’t show up in the meantime?" easily agreeing to your plan, Seonghwa gets up to help you in the kitchen. 
Not long after you both turn your head to the sound of footsteps. San is standing at the bar, face puffy with sleep and a content smile on his face, growing in size when he spots you. Heat rushes to your cheeks making you quickly turn back to the stove. He greets both of you and he can barely hear the mumble of a reply you let out. He blames your coldness on your possible hangover. He sits at the bar and questions what you two are making, "Pancakes" you murmur trying to grasp together strands of courage. If he didn't remember, was it fair to make a big deal out of it? Should you pretend it didn't happen so it doesn't become awkward? In your worries you didn't hear the other boys arriving. Most of them crash on the couch but Yunho's eyes go from your slumped shoulder to San. Nobody sees the mischievous spark ignite in his eyes. San is a Jealous man, everyone knows that.
Yunho walks over and wraps an arm around you, head coming to rest on your shoulder. Stiffening under the touch you only relax when the sound of Yunho's voice informs you it is him. "Ohhh pancakes?" 
Seonghwa turns around to prepare plates on the bar which means he is the only one who can see San. Jaw clenching in clear annoyance at the interaction between you and the taller man. Giggles coming from you as said man steals a pancake from the stack you were making. Yunho is getting the rise out of San he wanted. "Get a room" San mumbles quietly, but Yunho hears. Of course he did, he was waiting for it. Letting go of you to turn to the accuser with a challenging grin. San opens his mouth but words don't come out, unsure of what to say he instead looks away in annoyance. 
Once everyone has their plate, the ones whose head is still pounding took their plate back to their rooms. It leaves you, Seonghwa, Yunho, San, and now also Mingi scattered around the kitchen. San still sitting at the bar with Mingi next to him. Hwa was shifting uncomfortably at the tension between San and Yunho on the far side of the kitchen. And Yunho was standing right next to you, continuing to hog your attention. “Why are you looking so angry” Mingi asks, a little clueless to the situation. But when his eyes follow San’s stare he snorts. “Why are you jealous, didn’t you guys establish your relationship last nigh?” Suddenly all eyes are on Mingi who raises his eyebrows in innocence. Hwa is trying to signal him to shut up, your face is getting hotter by the minute, and Yunho is just grinning. San is the first to speak “What do you mean?” it has a sharpness to it, sounding more of a demand. “We… well… ju.. just like you made a big deal of those two last night…” His eyes shift from San to Yunho’s and he hesitates for a moment. “And?” San prods. “You!! You kissed them last night” Mingi says in defence, feeling San’s bad mood hang heavy in the air. Seongwha sighs heavily which makes Mingi continue to ramble on as a means to defend himself.  Yunho laughs and tries to get him to stop talking but for you and San it’s like the world stops, his eyes found yours after Mingi spilled about the kiss. “I kissed you?” he questions you, and it was barely a whisper, but you’re so zoned in on each other that you hear and nod. In response San shoots up from his chair, face reddening, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words. His abrupt movement made the other 3 shift focus back on San. “Let’s leave you guys to have a talk” Seongwha says and Yunho agrees who in turn drags along a complaining and still hungry Mingi.  
You shuffle uncomfortably under San’s gaze. “I…I am sorry?” he ends up saying, as he steps closer before taking a step back again. San always has this aura of confidence around him, at times the kind that makes you roll your eyes as he sends a wink your way. Most times though it was more subtle, no matter what room he walked into he looked like he belonged. Now however he looks like a kicked puppy, fidgeting on the spot unsure of what to do or say. “Please… don’t say that” You manage to croak out. “Let’s just move on, you were drunk and it was just a peck” looking up from the floor to him he manages to look even more hurt than before you opened your mouth. “I… don’t. I just…” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to gather his thoughts. “Even if it was just a peck. I did it without your permission, I am sorry. But… I don’t want to move on like it didn’t happen. Make me remember?” He asks while taking one of your hands in his with some hesitation, but as you don’t pull away from his touch, he grows a bit more confident again. “Tell me” he asks again and your breath hitches as he leans ever so close to your face. You look away from him before replaying the scene from last night. “I let you lay on my lap since you were… pretty out of it.  I thought you were already asleep and talked with Yunho when you suddenly popped up right in my face” It’s not much more than a mumble and when San grabs your chin to make you look at him you wish you could sink through the floor and disappear. “You… you asked me if you were my favourite, when I said yes you suddenly kissed me” His eyebrows raise in surprise “Then you unceremoniously passed out again on my lap” you say your heart is attempting to beat out your chest. San eyes crinkle as he smiles, it confuses you causing you to pout. “I remember… Now I have one last question, and this time I will give you time to think before you answer” eye contact so intense you squirm from it. “Am I your favourite?” the hand holding your chin shifts to cup your cheek, and his gaze is full of love. You know he is asking for permission with this question so you respond with a small nod. “Say it baby” he says as he breathes out a chuckle. “Yes, you’re my favourite” and his lips find yours, your eyes flutter shut and butterflies spring to life in your stomach. It’s a contrast to the kiss from last night, it’s not quick and it has a whole other level of tenderness to it. He takes another step closer and you melt into his chest, hand wrapping around his neck as he deepens the kiss with a swipe over your bottom lip with his tongue. His other hand is wrapped around your frame attempting to pull you impossibly closer.
“Oh my god, I think it’s time for you guys to get a room” Yunho says with a laugh. Making you break apart from San to face your friend with red cheeks. But San doesn’t look away from you, his hand brushing over your cheek. “You wanna go out with me” You laugh as he pulls your attention back to him with his words. “Thought that was clear” “mhhmm, I think you need to convince me a little more” He replies cheekily before reconnecting his lips with yours. Easily making you forget about anyone else in the house.
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stardewvalleybut-i-draw · 4 months ago
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Can u give me ur full thoughts on Alex? I feel like a lot of the shit he gets is unjustified. Yeah he says some sus things to the farmer (no matter what gender you are!) but that's only because he's horribly mislead. The man just doesn't know any better. I mean think about it. Abused and neglected, lacking good male role models, and he's got no friends in town except for maybe Haley and you know how she is. If she was told "you're probably not into sports" she'd say "ew no" because sports would get her all dirty.
I always saw him as just a loner-type guy who doesn't know how to talk to people. Spent too much time trying to develop his cringe ass macho man persona that he forgot to develop social skills. I don't think that makes him a bad person though. I could honestly talk for hours about how toxic masculinity is a monster that preys on young boys and eats them alive if they're not careful. But even with societal pressure being so intense, growth is possible. Alex is still a massive sweetie in my eyes. A big dumb doofus who loves his granny and wants to lift heavy things just to impress you.
I would love your thoughts though!!
#1 Alex fan anon ⚡️
Yeah. That's basically more or less my thoughts😅
It honestly depends on what you experience that can greatly color Alex's character
This might be one of my more controversial takes
(right next to being a Clint apologist💀)
but stick with me here-
If you grow up in a similar environment to most guys, you can understand why Alex is the way they are. It's not exactly easy to be soft or mindful when you have a harsh environment around you. Many guys end up coping with repressed thoughts and feelings in unique ways to soothe themselves. I think Alex's was sports. (Idk just a hunch) but it often leads to a lot of blind spots or misunderstandings of the world.
I've seen a lot of people like Alex and I've had a couple of friends in high school like that too! And I can tell you... yeah... it comes from SOMEWHERE, A lot of them ain't doing so great mentally.
Heck, I do that! Whenever I get uncomfortable with a situation or feelings I don't like, I make jokes to ease my brain. Releses a little serotonin ya know what I mean?
Not all coping mechanisms are bad tho, we kinda have our own form of bond and support that from the outside looks cold and uninviting but I promise you, we would die for our brothers. (plus the cold uninviting part is just a front)
"I know the homie told us to KYS over Roblox but he bought the group Freebirds during the gym session so it's all good!"/j
I can't say much from the other perspective but I would assume they would see Alex as a HUGE BIG RED flag and someone potentially dangerous or someone who brings back bad memories which is why he is dunked on so much. Even if they don't mean it, they have a higher chance of hurting people.
I don't think Alex is THAT type of character at all, I think he has good intentions but as you said "no social skills". I can see why others would interpret that way though.
It's funny that you mention how Alex doesn't have many female role models cuz... you have
Haley- Lazy and super not into dirt.
His mom- got sick and DIED.
Granny Evelyn- frail weak old woman who makes cookies and tends to flowers.
Those are not exactly SUPER GREAT examples of women who like sports.
Personally, I get why people say that playing a male farmer is better for Alex's story arc along with confronting George about the whole being gay thing but I think the female farmer has elements that I don't think are acknowledged much.
From my perspective anyway, I think a Fem farmer shows Alex a better example of women and what they can do VS grandma, dead mom, and Haley... along with learning boundaries and how better cope with repressed feelings and MAYBE-
-even address the fear of the farmer DYING of a sickness just like his mom or the intrusive thoughts of believing he'll end up like his father making him overprotective and paranoid about the farmers well being...
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but you can ignore that...
Idk man, that's just the way I view it. You either like Alex or you don't :/
I ain't saying anyone's wrong to feel the way they do
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 12) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 4.3k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY. MINORS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Brief and Not Really Explicit Sexual Content; Excessive Fluff; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You and Jake take a new step in your relationship.
Series Master List
Master List
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Jake sat across from Javy out on Javy’s back porch. Phoenix, you, and Emma were out together doing something that Jake was sure had to do with the baby, and leaving Jake and Javy to have a quiet afternoon to catch up between themselves. 
“You still don’t know the baby’s gender then?” Javy asked, causing Jake to nod. 
“She wanted to wait, and I didn’t mind.”
“But you have an idea, don’t you?” Javy prodded, knowing Jake as he did. 
“Yeah, I think that the baby will be healthy and happy.” Tapping his fingers on the table, Jake added, “But I sort of—and you cannot tell her this—want it to be a girl.”
“You want a girl?” Javy repeated, not looking surprised. 
“I’d be very happy with a boy. But I feel like a girl, who takes after her mom and looks like her mom, that’s what I keep picturing in my head.” Scratching his chin, Jake looked over at Javy. “The more that kid takes after their mom, the better.”
“How is the future Mrs. Seresin doing anyway?” Javy teased, leaning back in his seat. 
“She’s glowing these days, Javy. I swear. She’s absolutely glowing. And she says that the baby is getting more active. Nothing that I can feel yet, but they’re moving around in there. Mostly at night, which I can tell is going to annoy her eventually, but she’s just so happy every time she can feel the baby. And I mean I can see her bump getting bigger every week. I started taking photos of her so that we can track her growth. And I don’t know what it is but when I’m right next to her, I just feel the need to touch her bump and hold it and just be there.”
“Look at you,” Javy chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re smiling more than ever. You’ve got a photo from the ultrasound in your cockpit and in your locker. You spend almost every lunch break calling her. You’re always rushing home to see her.” Javy laughed to himself again. “You’ve gone soft, Jake.” 
“Fuck off, Javy,” Jake sighed without malice. 
“It’s a good look for you,” Javy defended himself. “I mean, you’re the guy who got his callsign for being selfish, Jake.”
“Yeah, thanks to my kid’s uncle.”
“He’s still not over it?” Javy guessed, reaching for his beer bottle. 
“He’ll never get over it,” Jake scoffed with a sense of finality. “Because he’s an idiot who thinks that I took advantage of her and that I’ll do something to hurt or upset her and the baby soon.” Rolling his eyes, Jake added, “He’d probably celebrate if we broke up.”
“I don’t think he’d celebrate . . . in front of her,” Javy added after a moment of thought. 
“He can fuck off for all I care. He’s not getting in between the two of us or our family. If he actually cares about his sister, he’d back off.”
“Has he at least reduced his attitude?”
“He never says anything in front of her. I’m pretty sure that Emma and or Penny would actually drop kick him if he did. And he’s not a complete moron. He doesn’t want to stress her out.” Jake took a sip of his beer. “So, he’s just an asshole when she’s not around.”
“I guess that’s an improvement.”
“Barely. I’m not going to deal with this shit when the baby’s old enough to hear his bullshit and sense the tension between the two of us. I mean, what if the baby overheard him saying shit about me? I’d fucking kill him, Javy, I’m telling you that right now. If he wants to be an uncle to my kid, he’s going to have to get over whatever stick is lodged up his ass.”
“Have you talked to her about it?”
“No. I don’t want to stress her out or pick a fight. It’s going really well right now, Javy, and I’ll never forgive myself if I fuck it up over her idiot brother.”
“She’s aware of it, I’m sure. Her and Nat talk about it, I think. And Emma.” Javy rubbed his cheek as an amused smirk tugged at his lips. “My money’s on Penny to kick his ass honestly.”
“I’d pay to see that.”
“So, you guys are talking about the future?”
“Every day,” Jake agreed. “She wants everything sorted out—or as much as possible—before she gets too far into her third trimester.”
“What do you mean by everything?”
“Getting things put in both of our names so that if something happens to one of us, the other can take care of everything and the baby. Getting our wills updated. Discussing who would take care of the baby if her family’s history repeats itself.”
“And how is that going?”
“We were looking for a house because with the cheaper loans I would get, it just makes more financial sense, and we’ll need the space. And as for the baby, it’s a little more complicated right now because we’re not married, but we’re working on it.”
“Can I make an observation?”
“Sure.”
“Why aren’t you guys just getting married?” Javy asked, causing Jake to pause. “Because a lot of this work would be done if you just signed a piece of paper at town hall. And you’d get benefits, she’d save a shit ton on medical expenses, and there’s no big fight in the hospital if something happens to one of you.” Javy added after a moment, “A huge part of why Nat and I got married was so that if a bird strike or G-LOC situation happened again, the other could actually get information from the hospital and make decisions.”
“I know,” Jake sighed, rubbing his face. “I was thinking about that.”
“I mean, I get it’s a huge commitment, but you’re already having a baby together. Getting married can’t be a bigger commitment than that.”
“Yeah, it’s not,” Jake agreed, leaning back in his seat. “I’ve been thinking about bringing it up to her.”
“Well, did you at least tell her about your family?”
“Javy—”
“—Jake, you’ve got to tell her.”
“I’m just trying to protect her.”
“Leaving her without all of the information is not protecting her, Jake, it’s setting her up for failure. At least tell her about your mother.”  
“Why my mother?”
“Because it explains a lot about you, Jake,” Javy stated, causing him to look down. “And she likes you, for some reason.” 
“Fuck off,” Jake sighed, reaching for his beer. Taking a long sip, he set the bottle down and rotated it around, lost in thought for a moment. “I’ll tell her about it. When the time’s right.”
~~~~~
You woke late on Saturday. You were never an early riser before but pregnancy made waking up early on the weekend impossible. Picking your head off of your pregnancy pillow, which Jake bought for you, you turned to see that Jake was gone, as usual. 
But when you saw a note on his pillow, you sat up. You picked it up and unfolded the paper, smiling to yourself when you saw Jake’s handwriting.
Get your rest because I made plans for us tonight. I still owe you that first date. 
- J
Practically beaming with joy, you laid back down, thinking to yourself about what Jake could have had planned for tonight. You assumed dinner, at least, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to you about where he would take you on a date. As you were rereading the note, you heard the front door open and Jake step inside. You waited for him to walk into the bedroom and smiled at him. 
“Morning. How was your run?”
“Fine. Took a new route through the park,” Jake replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. Moving your shirt out of the way, he pressed another kiss to your bump. “Any movement this morning?”
“Not yet,” you replied, running a hand through Jake’s hair as you smiled softly m. “They only start to move when it’s inconvenient for me.”
“Yeah, that’s my baby in there,” Jake joked, causing you to shake your head at him. 
“So, what are we doing later then?”
“It’s a surprise,” Jake stated, getting off of the bed. “I was thinking that we should leave here around five.”
“You’re not going to tell me anything about it?”
“Dress nicely but nothing crazy. And just make sure that you’re comfortable.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” you called after him as he walked into the bathroom to shower. 
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
You scoffed at his words as he closed the door. Laying down, you decided to stay in bed a little longer as Jake showered. But you sat up when you felt your baby start to move right over your bladder. It started as a little bit of a tickle and then some more discomfort and then you were shifting around, trying to find some sort of relief, and then you were frantically knocking on the door to the bathroom and letting yourself in. 
Jake turned his neck, staring at you with concern and a question on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw you making a beeline for the toilet, he had the audacity to smirk a bit. You shot him a look right back.
“The baby’s moving?” he guessed, letting the hot spray of the shower hit his chest. 
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m trying to concentrate.”
~~~~~
You checked your appearance one last time in the mirror before you grabbed your phone and walked out of the bathroom. Jake was sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for you, dressed in a nice button down tee shirt and a pair of black pants. When you stepped around the corner, he looked up and you instantly felt your cheeks warm as his expression changed and his sharp green eyes studied your figure. 
“Does the dress make my boobs pop out too much?” you asked, adjusting the strap a bit subconsciously. “Or is it too nice? Or not nice enough?”
“You look perfect,” Jake told you, standing up and sliding his phone into his back pocket. He walked over to you and grabbed your hands, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Ready to go?”
You nodded and Jake led you down to the car. Jake drove your car when the two of you were going somewhere because it was easier for you to get into compared to his truck. And he insisted that it was safer for you to sit in the passenger seat. 
“Where are we going?” you asked Jake, who smiled at you before turning back to the road. 
“It’s a surprise.”
“How far is it?” you asked, shifting in your seat. 
“It’s not too far.”
Jake drove a few more minutes before pulling into a long driveway. And even though you recognized the name at the entrance to the driveway, it still took you a moment to process it. 
“Why did you bring me to the place where Bradley and Emma’s wedding reception was?” you asked softly, more surprised than anything else. 
“Well, when it’s not just for hosting weddings. There’s a regular restaurant attached to it.” Jake pulled into a spot before turning off the car. “And this is where we met for the first time.” Pulling the keys out of the ignition, he turned back to you. “Is that okay?”
“Of course, it is,” you reassured him, resting a hand on his arm. “I was just surprised, that’s all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, let’s go,” you insisted, grabbing your purse. 
The two of you walked inside and were led to your table, which just happened to be on the back patio. You could see the outdoor bar where you and Jake met for the first time from your seat. Had anyone told you that little conversation on those two stools was going to change your life forever, you never would have believed them. 
“You know, I’ve already made a list of everything I want to eat or drink after I have the baby,” you stated, flipping through the menu. 
“What are the top three?”
“Beer, salmon rolls, and pepperoni,” you listed off quickly, causing Jake to snort. 
“All in one sitting?”
“We’ll see how I’m feeling,” you mused, reaching for your water. The waiter came over and took your orders before walking off again. “Emma called me today and mentioned something about throwing a baby shower for us next month. Or a little after that.”
“Do the dads go to that?” Jake asked, causing you to shrug your shoulders. 
“I think we can just do whatever we want. I know that when one of the Kazansky kids had their baby shower, the guys went out and did something together but then they came back and everyone ate together.”
“Whatever you want, we’ll do,” Jake offered, causing you to smile. 
“Thank you. But Emma and Phoenix seem like they’ve got it handled. They said it’s returning the favor for me being their maid of honor. And I kind of agreed to let them make it all a surprise.”
“We’re not doing some crazy gender reveal thing, right?” Jake deadpanned. 
“No, I told them to not do that,” you chuckled, leaning back in your seat. Folding your hands in front of your bump, you asked, “But you’re okay with waiting still? To find out?”
“The baby’s healthy and you’re healthy and that’s all I care about,” Jake stated seriously. “And it’s not like we can control it either.”
“No, we can’t,” you agreed, nodding slowly. “But what do you think? Are we having a boy or a girl?”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Jake lied, earning a look from you. “Alright, alright, I have. But what do you think we’re having?”
“No, because you’re just going to copy me to try and make me happy, even though I don’t care because we’re just guessing at this point and no one can do anything to change it and it doesn’t even matter at the end of the day.” Leaning forward, you added with a smile, “Just tell me, Jake.”
“I think we’re having a girl,” Jake stated quietly after a moment of thought. 
“I thought we were too, but then the obstetrician moved the monitor during the ultrasound and now I think that we’re having a boy,” you explained, causing Jake to think about it more. “Like she saw something there and moved it away before it was too obvious.”
“Maybe,” Jake agreed. “But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
He took a sip of his drink before leaning forward with a teasing smile. You cocked an eyebrow as you buttered your slice of bread, shooting him a look right back. 
“How are you feeling now? Feel the need to walk in on me in the shower again? Because next time, you can just join me. No need to put on a show about it.”
You scoffed and tossed the crumpled up straw wrapper at Jake in retaliation. A smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned forward and lowered your voice. 
“Says the man who’s been glancing down at my chest ever since I stepped out of our bedroom.”
“I’m looking at your bump where our child is growing,” Jake insisted seriously, causing your smirk to fade and a sheepish expression to come over your face. “But, my eyes have been taking a pit stop between your bump and your eyes because that dress does make your breasts look perfect.”
You lightly kicked him under the table in retaliation, causing him to laugh. The two of you enjoyed your dinner together and talked all about your plans for the future and the baby. It was a first date on paper, but it was obvious to anyone who looked over at you that there was a long history and strong understanding between the two of you. Jake paid the tab—though you tried to grab it from him—before the two of you got up and walked out to the parking lot. 
“So, what do you think?” Jake asked as the two of you threaded your fingers together and slowly swung your hands back and forth. “Will I get a second date?”
“I’ll think about it,” you joked, leaning on Jake as you walked. 
“You’ll think about it?” Jake repeated as the two of you got closer to your car. 
“Well, it’s only the first date,” you added, shrugging your shoulders and laughing to yourself when you saw Jake’s offended look. “Maybe if you’re a decent kisser, I’ll think about it a little more.”
“Is that a challenge?” Jake asked, gently reaching up to cup your cheek. 
“It could be.”
Jake leaned down and tilted your chin up, bringing you in for a soft kiss. He started slowly, teasing you like you teased him a moment ago. And when you started to press against him, deepening the kiss, you could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your lips. Pulling back from your lips, and leaving you wanting more, Jake took a step back. 
“And my chances now?”
“I guess I can give you a second date,” you replied before grabbing Jake by the front of his shirt. 
Your lips met again and Jake rested his hand on your hips, gently backing you up against your car. He rubbed his hand over the front of your bump before raising it to cup your cheek, purposefully brushing his fingertips against the sensitive skin of the valley between your breasts. And feeling you suck in a breath and press against him further, Jake pulled your lips apart and rested his forehead against your own. 
“Any chance that we can continue this back at the apartment?” Jake whispered against your lips. 
“I’d love to,” you replied softly, before smirking to yourself. “But I can’t.”
“Why not?” Jake asked, sounding concerned.
“I have this rule,” you teased, leaning back against your car, “that I can’t sleep with a guy after the first date. It’s nothing personal, just one of my rules.”
“And if the guy already got you pregnant? Can you make an exception?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, running a hand down his chest. 
You held him in suspense for a moment, even though you honestly wouldn’t have minded if he slid your underwear to the side and done it against your car right then and there. And even though you enjoyed teasing him, you wanted him. You needed him. 
Placing your hand over his own, you offered him a genuine, loving smile. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 
“Take me to bed, Jake,” you whispered to him. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
When the two of you eventually got back to your shared apartment, you let Jake pull you down the hall and into your bedroom. The two of you gently undressed each other before Jake helped you up and onto the bed. 
“You’re not going to be comfortable on your back, are you?” Jake asked as you sat back on your heels. 
“Probably not for long,” you agreed as Jake climbed up onto the bed too.
“Then come here,” Jake coaxed, laying on his back. 
You crawled over and Jake grabbed your hips, lining the two of you up. Your bump, which wasn’t so small anymore, rested against Jake’s strong chest. 
“Tell me if anything hurts or isn’t comfortable and we’ll stop, okay?” he assured you. 
“Okay.”
You let out a shaky gasp as Jake pulled your hips down. His hands were strong on your hips and he welcomed the rock of your hips against him. You were a bit worried about suffocating Jake and tried to hold up your weight, but he didn’t slow down until you practically collapsed against his chest. 
Jake gently rolled you onto your side and laid down beside you, gently running his fingers down your cheek. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and offered him a giddy smile. 
“Are you alright?” he asked softly. 
“Yeah, Jake,” you giggled, “I’m better than alright.”
“I haven’t lost my touch then?” 
“Not yet,” you mused, pressing a romantic kiss to his lips. 
After taking a moment to recover, you sat up and climbed onto his lap. Jake rested his back against the headboard, letting you set your own pace with his hands there to support you. As your rhythm started to slow until you could only rock your hips, Jake gently rotated the two of you so that your bump rested against a pillow and your weight rested on your hands and knees before he sat up behind you.  
“Tell me if it’s too much,” Jake told you. 
“It’s not enough right now,” you practically whined, pushing back against him. 
Jake rolled his hips forward as his lips pressed a searing kiss against your neck, causing you to moan. The two of you quickly lost yourselves in each other until your body tensed up again. You buried your face into the comforter as your body shook. Jake kept moving above you for a few more moments before he let out a low noise and rolled over beside you.
You smiled at him as he laid down and caught his breath. Your eyes fluttered softly in the dim lighting as curled your body into Jake’s warm chest. He could see that you were exhausted and were probably about to fall asleep. Jake leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“You should go to the bathroom first before you fall asleep,” Jake suggested, causing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “I can clean up otherwise.”
“Let my legs recover for a second, Seresin. Unless, you want a Bambi on ice situation.”
Jake snorted in reply, causing you to smile.
~~~~~
When Jake got called into Cyclone’s office after completing his training exercises, Jake knew that meant two things—he either fucked up or he did something incredibly amazing. And he couldn’t think of anything that he fucked up lately, so he was hoping that the latter was true. 
“Sir,” he greeted Cyclone, standing at attention. 
“At ease, Hangman. Please, sit,” Cyclone stated, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk.
Jake sat down and stared at Cyclone, who seemed relatively at ease. He shifted a few papers around his desk before picking up a folder. Cyclone held it out to Jake, who immediately flipped it open, reading through the documents enclosed. 
“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander Seresin,” Cyclone replied, causing Jake to look up from the paperwork. His expression didn’t give away any emotion, but internally Jake was swelling with pride and joy. “It’s well deserved and I’m sure that you’ll do well in your new role.” 
“And I’m to remain here?” Jake asked, looking quickly through the papers. “In Miramar?”
“Yes, you will,” Cyclone replied, allowing Jake to relax for a moment. But only for one moment. “Though, I should warn you that your chance of being deployed in the next few months has slightly increased.” 
“How slight?” 
“I would say guaranteed at some point within the next six months,” Cyclone answered honestly, causing Jake’s joy to disappear in a flash. “Not that it would be for an extended deployment, but you’ll certainly be on a short list, Hangman.” 
“I understand, sir,” he stated, looking down at his paperwork. 
A note of silence passed between them and Cyclone leaned back in his seat, folding his hands in front of him. Glancing at photos of his own family, Cyclone turned back to Hangman, who was reading through the paperwork in front of him. 
“Hondo tells me that your girlfriend is expecting,” Cyclone continued, causing Jake to nod in confirmation, though he kept his gaze focused on the paperwork. “Congratulations.” 
“Thank you, sir.” 
“I wish that I could offer you a guarantee, Hangman. Any sort of guarantee.”
“That’s not the industry that we’re in, sir,” Jake replied simply, picking his head up. “I understand that. She understands that.” 
“The promotion ceremony is in two weeks. Saturday,” Cyclone responded after a few moments. “I look forward to meeting her then.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
~~~~~
You walked into your and Jake’s apartment building, and stopped to grab your mail. Unlocking the small mailbox, you pulled the door open and grabbed the small batch of envelopes. You walked over to the elevator as you flipped through them, mentally organizing them. 
Bill. Spam. Spam. Bill. More spam. Even more spam. And . . .
You paused, looking at the last envelope. It was blue and shaped like a card, though it wasn’t close to either of your birthdays. Flipping it over, you paused when you saw that the return address was in Texas. And the name Georgia Seresin had to be Jake’s mom’s name, wouldn’t it? 
Jake got a card from his mom. 
Though you thought it was weird, especially because Jake swore up and down that he didn’t talk to his parents, you brushed it off. It wasn’t addressed to you, so it wasn’t yours to open. You would just tell Jake about it when he got home. 
Taking the elevator up, you headed into your apartment. Setting the mail down in the corner, you walked over to the couch and flopped down, exhausted from your day. Turning on the fan that Jake set up on the coffee table for you, you laid down and scrolled through your phone. 
And then promptly fell asleep a minute later.
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shamixlour · 6 months ago
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The Bear - 3x10
This scene was a masterpiece and obviously horrendously tragic at the same time and that for multiple reasons. 
For a little context, we're at EVER restaurant, funeral diner, everyone is having lots of fun and we get a glimpse of Sydney in the middle of her peers. She fits perfectly in, participates in the conversations, entertains and definitely grasps the heart of the people around the table AND YET you have Carmy totally absent. He is the one who invited her and he is not present, he is not here. Instead, he keeps staring down at his old chef two tables away. He keeps staring, dissociates himself completely from his environment and doesn’t interact at all with his old cuisine acquaintances. At first, no one really pays attention or at least you are pushed to think so until Luca asks him if he’s okay and remarks that Carmys is staring. Sydney finds an opportunity in this to ask herself and note that he is indeed staring and wonders who he is staring at. Carmy, eyes still locked on the Chef David Fields from Empire tells them and this is the only moment he interacts with the people around him. Right then and he starts painting the Chef’s portrait to Luca and Sydney.
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Carmy : He's the fucking worst and one of the best Chefs in the world. Luca: Well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world. Carmy: Total prick. Fuckface. The bastard made me very, probably mentally ill. Dead inside. Cold. Never turns it off. Accomplishes more by 10am than most people do in a lifetime. Sydney: "looks over Carmy gravely" Carmy: I don't think he sleeps. I don't think he eats. I don't think he loves. He hates black pepper for some reason I will never understand and he is getting up. Luca: Carm. Carmy. Sydney: Carm. Carmen.
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The thing is, each word Carmy uses to define that Chef Fields is, imho, just another adjective to describe who Carmy is as a Chef himself.
I hated that moment. I did not like hearing him describe that man because with each syllables that split through his mouth, I realised that the person Carmy was supposedly describing, that horrible, vicious, toxic, controlling and overly awful Chef that had no heart, no empathy, no source of humanity left in him and destroyed him was in fact Carmy himself.
I felt like he was describing himself and it broke my heart because truly, what he showed of himself in the Bear’s kitchen this season 3 was just that. 
A cold, controlling, harsh and judgmental Chef. 
Someone that would not hesitate to crumble the ounce of confidence left in you (poor Tina) if you don’t meet his standard. Someone who would not respect you if you don’t reach his fucking stupid non negotiables. Someone who would say snarky comments at you, sometimes full of disdain and haughty, implying that he is better than you. 
That is because I am better than you. That is because I have more skills. That is because you’re not good enough, you’re not excellent enough, you are not like me.
Carmy said shouted that to everyone throughout season 3. He did not care and that regardless of the history between them, regardless of the obvious efforts of the past, of the growth of each person in that kicthen. He did not give a single fuck of the looks of panic, of the shaking voice of Tina, of the dead glare of Sydney, of the feelings of distress.
No, Carmy was cold.  He was just cold. A total prick. A fuckface. Demanding. Hard. Full of himself despite his failures. Arrogant and condescending. Ready to crush you mentally if you don't meet his expectations. He did not care. He did not sleep. He did not love.
That was Carmy of season 3 and I hated it.
I despised hearing him describe that Chef, watching him stand up and run after that man to tell him fuck you when Carmy became exactly fucking THAT. It was so tragic and sad and SO fucking hypocritical at the same time and I fear that Carmy was slightly aware, deep down within him. He knows what that man says to him is true, maybe he even knows the monster he described to Syd and Luca was himself and maybe that is why he cries in that corridor because Chef Fields confirms that to him in a way.
I made you excellent. I made you. You became me. One of the best chefs in the world. We are the same so you are welcome.
Carmy was okay. He left excellent but at what price?
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I also wanna point out something during Carmy's depreciating monologue regarding Chef Fields. Not only Sydney stared at him gravely all along, the words resonating maybe a bit too much but also Luca said something I found interesting.
He said "well, he used to be one of the best chefs in the world." and I could not dissociate this from Carmy himself, from him maybe not being one of the best chefs in the world either if he continues like that, if he doesn't step away from the Chef he is now, if he doesn't go back to a track where he wants to get better, where he listens, teach and love and eat and sleeps and is alive.
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If you read all of this, heart on you <3 let me know your thoughts, future meta about ep 3 is coming soon hehe~
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thy-valhallen · 7 months ago
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Batfam by How Likely They Are to Break the No-Killing Rule
Jason Todd. obviously, this is his bit, the man is okay with murder so long as he perceives due cause, pew pew babygirl, rubber bullets still can kill you but now, Bruce can't yell at him if they die later
Barbara Gordon. you cannot tell me this woman isn't bloodthirsty. she follows the rules because she plays nice and respects the justice system (mostly), but i fully believe she can and will fly a drone with a mounted gun and snipe someone from six blocks away one day if the other Bats are busy, and she might not feel inclined to call an ambulance
Stephanie Brown. a Narrows girl, she knows how shit can happen, and if someone's after one of the Batfam, you better believe she's got a knife at the ready. Steph follows the rule well! for now. but look, if she's in mortal peril, she's not about to put her attacker's life above her own
Tim Drake. Tim is the true neutral here to me-- he follows the Code because of the effect it would have on Bruce and the rest of the family. he fully understands this and avoids it. ... there are no less than six different timelines in which he has pretty freely murdered people, and the jokes about him being the Most Likely to be a Supervillain jokes are based in something, guys. i feel like it would be more of a problem if he weren't so exhausted and busy 24/7-- so let's keep him very busy so he doesn't catch a charge
Damian al Ghul-Wayne. he's had a lot of growth from his days of being a child assassin and puts a lot of value on following their Code now-- but look me dead in the eyes and say he wouldn't kill for most of his family in a heartbeat. lie to me.
Dick Grayson. he and Damian are tied for me in how it's fairly situational and both would suffer tremendous emotional backlash for the action-- but Dick has a lot of rage and a lot of people who have hurt him and his loved ones. there's a tipping point, and he's reached it before. he blames himself for so much, if he ever got caught up in his own wrath and actually game-ended someone, I think the man would never wear a mask again
Duke Thomas. Duke may be under-credited for his absolutely feral behavior, but murder is definitively not on that list. he is so down to throw down, but Duke has never (to my knowledge) had a close call with murdering someone like many of the others in this family. putting this mostly on his powers giving him a leg-up there, but powers or not, no body count and never expect that to change for him
Bruce Wayne. the epitome of the No-Killing Code except for all those times he's nearly killed someone in intensely stressful situations. is strict about it because he knows how easy a line it is to cross and how it would devastate him emotionally and holds that standard. no killing is probably a kitschy poster in the Batcave at this point, Jason got it lovingly printed on a metal sign next to the Batcomputer
Cassandra Cain. has killed and will never kill again-- Bruce has close calls and has to be stopped, Cass has close calls and reins herself in. the blood on her hands is red enough without more-- she's an obsidian blade, sharp enough to cut molecules but so very fragile. one bad move would break her, and being the strongest in the family, it would be so very easy to make that move and it would be easy to live in fear of herself. but she doesn't-- there's shit to do and crime to be carefully nerve-pinched, after all
Bonus:
Alfred Pennyworth. i couldn't rank him with the others, do you know how this would look if I started the list with Alfred??? this is an ex-MI6 agent. this is a man who responds to home invasions of any threat level from "Burglar" to "Darkseid" with a sawed-off shotgun and fresh pair of gloves in his pocket for after he's disposed of the body. he's killed and will kill again, just step within range, kind sir, and you'll find out
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