#henry wasn’t even FINISHED SPEAKING

[i-know-the-endss]

i will never, ever get over the way henry talks about his “daft pubescent fantasy” of taking the man he loves to the one place in the world that is his, and dancing together, amidst the statues, and alex, immediately after hearing this, pulls his phone out to play a song like he’s saying “it’s going to be me. it’s going to be us.”

[overthedeadsea]

— Press Tour Shenanigans

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Co-star!reader x Kelvin Harrison Jr.

Summary: chaotic, flirty, and slightly unhinged interview energy between the trio. More of a Aaron x reader (wink), jealousyyyy.

A/n: since I can’t see the finish line of this obsession with the mufasa duo, I’m going to unleash all my demons here on tumblr <3

— You were seated between Aaron Pierre and Kelvin Harrison Jr.,cameras rolling, microphones pinned, and a well-meaning interviewer sitting across from the three of you. It was supposed to be a standard press junket—talk about the film, give some behind-the-scenes insight, and maybe throw in a funny anecdote.

But these two? Oh, these two had other plans.

Kelvin leaned forward first, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Okay, so what y’all need to know is that [Y/N] is actually the diva of this cast.”

You gasped, whipping your head toward him. “Excuse me? Me?!”

Aaron, sitting coolly on your other side, nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I mean… I wasn’t gonna say anything, but now that Kelvin brought it up—”

Your jaw dropped. “Not you too!”

Kelvin grinned. “Nah, let’s talk about it. The personal assistant situation? The specific snack demands?”

You threw up your hands. “I asked for one very normal, very reasonable thing—peach-flavored sparkling water! That is NOT diva behavior!”

Aaron rubbed his jaw, pretending to think. “Mmm. But when they brought you raspberry instead?”

Kelvin snickered. “You told the intern to ‘rethink their life choices.’”

“Jokingly!” you shot back, eyes wide. “It was sarcasm!”

Aaron side-eyed you playfully. “Was it though?”

You turned fully to him now, pointing a finger. “Why are you agreeing with him? I thought we were friends.”

Aaron smirked, his voice dipping into that smooth, teasing tone. “We are.That’s why I feel safe enough to call you out.”

Kelvin gasped dramatically. “Ohhh, wow. Betrayal. On camera, too.”

The interviewer, barely holding back laughter, finally cut in. “Okay, so… who’s actually the diva between the three of you?”

Aaron and Kelvin exchanged a look. Without hesitation, they both pointed at each other.

“Oh, it’s him,” Aaron said at the same time Kelvin blurted, “Oh, it’s definitely him.”

You folded your arms. “Wow. The AUDACITY.”

Aaron chuckled. “I mean… Kelvin does have main character energy.”

Kelvin gasped, hand on his chest. “And Aaron is literally the ‘mystery man with the voice that makes people weak.’”

You nodded sagely. “He does have that ‘if he speaks, the whole room listens’ vibe.”

Aaron raised a brow, smirking at you now. “Oh? You been noticing?”

Kelvin let out a loud, exaggerated “OOOOHHHH,” making you groan.

“See?” You pointed at Kelvin. “He’s the actual menace.”

Kelvin shrugged. “Listen, I’m just here to tell the truth.”

Aaron glanced at you, voice dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “And what’s your truth?”

You blinked. Oh. He was really using that voice right now? On camera??

Kelvin threw his hands up. “Nope. Nope. Not on my watch! We are NOT about to have a whole moment in the middle of this interview.”

The interviewer, officially losing it, buried their face in their cue cards. “I have completely lost control of this session.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You know what? I was gonna be professional today.”

Kelvin grinned. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Aaron smirked, leaning back in his chair, eyes glinting as he looked between you and Kelvin. “Exactly.”

And just like that, the interview spiraled even further into chaos.

The interview had already gone off the rails, but somehow, things were about to get even worse.

The interviewer, finally regaining some semblance of control, smiled at the three of you. “Okay, let’s bring it back for a second. We have a fun question for you all. Who’s your celebrity crush?”

You hummed, tapping your chin. “Oh, that’s easy. Henry Cavill.”

Silence.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the camera rolling. Then—

Kelvin’s entire face lit up. “OHHHH, that’s gonna be a problem.”

You blinked. “What?”

Kelvin immediately pointed at Aaron, who was suddenly very interested in the bottle of water in his hands, twisting the cap with way too much focus.

“Ayo, Aaron, you good?” Kelvin teased, nudging him with his elbow.

Aaron, to his credit, played it cool—too cool. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, nah, I’m good.”

But you saw the way his jaw clenched just a little. The way his fingers gripped that water bottle just a bit tighter.

Kelvin wasn’t about to let this slide. “Nahhh, ‘cause why did your whole vibe just change?”

Aaron exhaled, flashing a relaxed smile. “I’m chill.”

Kelvin leaned forward, squinting. “You sure? ‘Cause a second ago, you were all ‘Oh, Y/N, what’s your truth?’ and now you real quiet.”

Aaron scoffed, finally looking at you. “She said Henry Cavill, man. What do you want me to say?”

You smirked. “You could say ‘great choice.’”

Aaron arched a brow. “Could I?”

Kelvin lost it.“NAHHH, HE’S MAD.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, it’s not that deep.”

Aaron gave a slow nod, taking a sip of his water. “Right. Not that deep.”

Kelvin nudged you. “Y/N, ask him his celebrity crush. Do it.”

You turned to Aaron, challenging. “Yeah, Pierre. Who’s yours?”

Aaron met your gaze, and something shifted. His smirk returned, slow and deliberate, as he leaned in just slightly.

“You.”

Kelvin screamed. The interviewer covered their face with cue cards. You? You just sat there, stunned.

Aaron leaned back, smug as hell, taking another sip of water like he hadn’t just casually flipped the entire vibe on its head.

You cleared your throat. “I—uh—okay.”

Kelvin was wheezing. “OH, YOU FOLDED! You FOLDED SO FAST!”

Aaron just shrugged, completely unbothered. “What can I say? Gotta speak my truth.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck. Damn him. Damn that voice.

The interviewer sighed, defeated. “Yeah… I’m never getting this back on track, am I?”

Kelvin and Aaron, in unison: “Nope.”

And just like that, the chaos continued.

A/n: SO HOW DO WE LIKE ITTTT??? I have a whole mini series planned down I can bomb it anytime if you guys like it ~~

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel sleeps with his innocent married next door neighbor after fixing her sink.]

Smut

“He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist.”

The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID. It was your husband.

“Answer it” he whispered.

A tiny hint of Javier Peña in this

“Damn it, Henry” you sighed checking under your sink to see it was leaking much more than earlier. Of course your husband was coming home late once again from work leaving you to a messy kitchen. The water over flowing and it being late in the evening you knew no plumber would be available to come now. The thought of asking your neighbor Joel Miller was tempting but also a bit embarrassing this late in the day. Joel knew you and he knew your husband, the two of them weren’t exactly friends but whenever they’d see each other they’d have a quick talk about whatever game was going on. With a sigh you snapped yourself out of it and marched yourself to Joel’s front door.

It didn’t take long before Joel opened his door, intrigued to find you on the other end.

“Stella” he greeted you with half a smile.

“Hey, Joel…I’m sorry for bothering late. Henry won’t be back until God knows what time and my sink is leaking and-“

“Say no more,” he chuckled before calling out to Tommy letting him know where he would be.

Grabbing some tools from the back of his truck he followed you to your house right behind you. Not being able to stop himself from enjoying the view of the way you walked up the stairs, the move of your hips with each step his eyes were glued to your ass.

“Sorry again about this” he quickly looked up as you turned around opening the door for him.

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’” Joel always had a way with words, yet it wasn’t exactly what he said but more of how he said it.

Standing to the side you watched how he got to work under your sink. One of his legs lay flat while the other was bent, you couldn’t help but notice his navy blue shirt being pulled up slightly, revealing a light soft patch of hair that led to his-

“How long has this been like this?” Joel’s question distracting your thoughts, distracting your eyes.

“Oh uh-Henry tried to fix it but-“

“Yeah I could see that” he chuckled, his arms flexing as he worked. There you were again checking out Joel as he lay under your sink when your house phone rang.

“Not again, Henry” Joel heard you speak with disappointment, he couldn’t help but take a peak at you as stood by the counter.

“We’ve had to change it so many times, silly me for thinking you’d prioritize your wife” Joel looked down at you and watched as you sadly hung up the phone and pushed it aside. Before you knew it he was finished wiping his hands clean.

“That’s it?”

“Yes mam’” he smiled yet noticed the sadness in your eyes.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah” you sighed not being able to hide the disappointment you felt.

“Henry and I made four years last week and we’ve yet to celebrate it because theres always a reason for him to come home late, even bought this damn bottle of wine to surprise him,” you rolled your eyes. Joel tilted his head and crossed his arms listening to what you had to say.

“I can’t remember the last time we went on a date and we don’t even have children keeping us busy…ain’t that sad?” You chuckled sarcastically.

“I even bought this new stupid dress I’m wearing now to see if he’d like it and now I’m blabbing away-“

“You look beautiful in it” Joel’s compliment completely catching you off guard.

“Thank you” he watched as your eyes lit up before you realized you hadn’t even offered him a glass of water.

“Oh god, how rude am I? Would ya like a glass of water or tea? Coffee?”

“How about wine?” A playful look in his eyes as he motioned to the bottle you had just mentioned.

“You know what….why not?” You grabbed two glasses and the wine opener, pouring each a cup. Joel watched as you took a sip from your cup and tried to hold back a smile.

“What cha smiling about?” Joel asked with a smirk.

“If my husband knew I was standing here having wine with you-“ you laughed as he stepped closer to you.

“How would he feel about that? ” He asked curiously, a squint in his eyes.

“He probably wouldn’t like it” you looked down with embarrassment.

“Oh yeah?” He took another step closer.

“Or he’s probably too distracted right now with his secretary anyways too wonder what the hell I’m doing” you rolled your eyes before chugging the remainder of your wine. You always suspected your husband wasn’t faithful. Joel watched as you wiped your lips still lost in thought before you realized he was staring at you.

“Sorry- I know you don’t care to hear about any of that”

“Hmm..I don’t know darling I just find it hard to believe a man could get distracted with another woman when he has you at home” a light shade of red appearing on your cheeks as you quickly looked away. It had been a while since another man flirted with you so directly you didn’t know how to respond. Quickly pouring yourself another glass Joel chuckled as you chugged down what you poured. Silently he walked towards you, slowly pulling the glass away from your lips and setting it aside. You could feel your heart racing, leaning back against the counter as he looked down at your lips.

Was this actually happening?

“Joel” you whispered as his eyes found yours, his hands gently falling on your hips.

“You..you now I’m married..” you whispered as he pressed his body against yours. He was hesitant for a moment, analyzing your face.

“Happily?” His question making you react with a look of defeat.

No you weren’t happy, you hadn’t been for a long time and Joel could always see it whenever he saw you and your husband together yet you never expected this from Joel.

You couldn’t respond and before you even realized, he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you sending a shock through your body. Your eyes were open as he took you by surprise, his hand slowly closing around your waist pulling you harder against him before he gently parted away.

“I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought of doing this for some time now” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“This ain’t very much gentleman like of me but for some reason….I don’t care” he smirked before kissing you again. This time you closed your eyes, your hands brushing up his chest and wrapping around his neck, your body melting into his. You were losing control forgetting what was right or wrong, he pushed aside the dishes behind you and quickly lifted you up onto the counter without parting his lips from yours. His hands sliding under your dress making you gasp and turn away from his lips.

“Joel….” You whispered. No other man beside your husband had touched you in almost a decade.

“I…I’ve never done this before…I have a husband” you spoke as if you were trying to remind yourself of the man you married. Joel could tell this was the first time any other man aside from your husband touched you. The thought giving him a rush.

Refusing to look up into his deep brown eyes barely able to make out your words you swallowed nervously.

“This is…it’s wrong” you made the mistake of looking up at him and found him staring at your lips, yearning to feel more of them.

“So tell me to stop” he whispered before looking up into your eyes.

“Tell me to stop and I promise I’ll leave, darlin’”

You knew you couldn’t.

You didn’t want him to.

Slowly you could hear the sound of him unbuttoning his jeans, his lips pressed against your cheek before slowly finding yours again. Joel knew you had never done something like this before, somehow that intrigued him more. He moved slowly, giving you the chance to stop him but he knew damn well you wouldn’t. Feeling his hands between your thighs you felt him slowly slide your underwear off your legs, throwing them to the side. Shoving your dress higher he positioned himself right at your entrance slowly sliding himself in you. Breathing each other in you moaned as his thrust pushed your body up against the wall. It felt exactly like you what you wanted.

What you needed.

Your arms slow grabbing onto his shoulders as he penetrated you deeply. A louder moan than you expected escaped your lips, Joel smirked looking down at how much you creamed all over his cock.

“Look at that..” he whispered roughly.

“Wanted it that bad, huh?” He thrusted harder when the house phone rang making you gasp. The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID.

It was your husband.

“Answer it”

“What?” You panted as he continued to move into you.

“Answer it” he demanded, his hand sliding behind your neck grabbing a chunk of your hair. A look you had never seen from him as he eagerly waited for you to do as he said.

Looking at the caller ID your heart sunk, what the hell was Joel thinking?

“Joel..I can’t” you whispered when he tugged at your hair.

“Yes you can” he held himself inside you deeply making you gasp.

“Hello?” You whispered, the phone shaking in your hand against your ear as Joel looked dead at you. Your husband of course making more excuses on how he would get home even later than he first said. Yet, for the first time in months…you didn’t care. Joel unexpectedly began to slam into you faster, a panic arising in your eyes as you felt yourself about to cum.

Your husband speaking as you attempted to control your breathing but at this level of pleasure it was impossible.

“I don’t know what damn time I’ll be home tonight so please don’t wait up for me, maybe I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t call my office either” Your husband continued as Joel watched your eyes begin to roll back. Biting his bottom lip as sweat dripped down his forehead he felt you tighten up around his cock.

“Hello? Are you even listening?!!” Your husband yelled when ecstasy exploded throughout your body.

“Yes!” You screamed uncontrollably, the phone slipping from your hands falling into pieces onto the floor. Grabbing onto Joel you moaned as he watched an orgasm take over you completely.

“Please…please-“ you begged as your body arched against him. Joel grunted pulling your hips closer to him thrusting his hips against you as you came.

“Joel…” you whispered, your body collapsing back against the wall. Out of breath you could barely say a word Joel quickly pulled out and came on your thigh making a sound of sweet relief.

A twist of emotions exploding through your chest. A pleasure you had never felt before mixed with a guilt you never knew you could feel.

“Oh my god…” you whispered as he turned away fixing himself up. Grabbing some paper towels you cleaned yourself off still in shock with what you had just done. Getting off the counter your legs felt like jello practically making you lose your balance. Joel quickly turned and held you up by your waist as you looked up at him feeling confused yet you didn’t know what to say. He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist. You attempted to push his hand off before he abruptly pulled you tighter against him. You gasped not expecting his reaction as he stared down at you intensely not saying a word.

“You-“ Joel grabbed your face pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to push away for just a second, his hands grabbing your wrists before you melted once again in his arms. Parting his lips from you he looked down breathlessly.

“It’s alright” he whispered as you looked up at him innocently. He knew what he had just done, but Joel didn’t regret it, hell he wished he could stay with you.

Kissing your forehead he silently left your home as you stood against the counter in shocker. Your phone still on the floor, your underwear right beside it with a drop of his cum you had noticed.

What the hell did this mean?

Joel went to his home and walked in casually passing Tommy who sat at the table eating a sandwich. Tommy didn’t even get to say a word with how quickly Joel hid himself in the bathroom starting the shower.

Staring at himself in the mirror he didn’t know what to feel. This wasn’t like Joel to sleep with a married woman yet the guilt he felt was more from you. The look in your eyes as you had realized what you had done he felt responsible for…yet he couldn’t keep himself away….

Part 2?

[ninzied]

green things

alex kisses henry to make another guy jealous. that’s it. no other reason. based on a prompt for @onthewaytosomewhere. modern au. 1.9k.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Pez remarks, halfway through one of the worst house parties Alex has been to in his life. Seriously; he’s been to so many, and none of the others even compare. “Something on your mind?”

Yes. “No.” Alex takes a sip of his drink and goes casually back to not looking at Henry.

He’s kind of not really been okay-totally-watching-them all night, and it’s fine. It’s fine, because it doesn’t matter who Henry talks to, what matters is that he looks happy, and animated, and hasn’t stopped smiling.

He hasn’t stopped smiling all night.

“Hey, so, who’s the guy?” Alex asks.

Pez glances over. “Ah—yes, that’s a visiting prof in Henry’s department. Hazza talks about him quite a lot, actually.”

Alex grits his teeth so hard he’s surprised that none of them crack. “Does he.” He refrains from adding under his breath, Well, I’ve never heard of him.

“All the time, as a matter of fact,” Pez continues. He doesn’t even sound like he’s had to exaggerate. “And with good reason. It’s not even that he’s easy on the eyes, though there is that too. He’s already accomplished so much in the field despite being our age, from what I understand.”

“I see,” Alex says as neutrally as possible. He’s starting to see a lot from where he’s standing, actually, and he doesn’t like it. Like, at all.

Pez raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “Do I spy something green?”

“No,” Alex says quickly, too quickly this time. “Nope. Definitely not.”

“Well, if you say so.” Pez pops an hors d’oeuvre in his mouth and chews, surveying the room like it’s his own private theatre. Like he’s waiting for something. Like he has a vision. It’s both impressive and disconcerting to see.

As if on cue, someone comes up to Mister Accomplished and claps a hand on his stupid-broad shoulder, drawing his attention away. He flashes Henry a grin—one that’s way too white and with too many teeth, in Alex’s opinion—before walking off and leaving Henry alone in the corner.

Henry, who’s no longer smiling as he closes his eyes and sags at the shoulders. He tilts his glass back and drinks.

Well, fuck. Alex can’t even be glad anymore that the guy has just left because now he wants to punch him for it.

“Douchebag much?” he mutters under his breath.

“Oh, most excellent,” Pez is saying at the same time. “Couldn’t have planned the thing better myself.” He clears his throat, all business-like all of a sudden. “It appears that our poppet is in need of assistance. Are you up to the task, Alexander?”

“Wait.” But Alex finds himself getting pulled along by the sheer force of Pez’s will before he’s even finished speaking. “What task, exactly?”

Pez looks two seconds away from rubbing his hands together like some kind of cartoon villain. “Nothing like making a man jealous to finally spur him into action.”

Alex sputters; didn’t he just say that he wasn’t—? But then he catches the pointed look Pez gives Mister Accomplished again. Oh. That guy. Then: “Wait, that guy?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it,” says Pez.

Alex makes a wild gesture. “You want me to make that guy jealous. Fucking how?”

Pez lets out a long-suffering sigh. “The fact that I must spell it out for you really does explain a lot, actually.”

“A lot about what?”

“One kiss ought to do it, I think,” Pez muses, almost to himself.

Alex swallows. Flirting with Henry every day like he does is one thing. Harmless, mostly, unless you count feeling heartsick that Henry never looks at him the same way.

What Pez is suggesting, though, may be the thing that tips Alex fully over into heartbreak territory.

“I don’t, um.” He clears his throat and glances toward Henry, who’s gazing into his now-empty glass. “What makes you think he’ll be down with this plan?”

“Absolutely nothing, he would never. Which is why we must be quick about it.”

“But,” Alex starts to protest.

“Alex.” Pez says his name like he’s scolding a child who’s being too selfish. “Don’t you want to see Henry happy?”

“More than anything,” says Alex, too honestly. Fuck.

“Then trust me on this,” says Pez, in the voice of a person who’s not to be trusted at all, before opening his arms wide and beaming. “Hazza, darling.”

“Oh, thank God,” says Henry, glancing up as they approach. “I need another one of whatever this was.”

“I have a better idea,” Pez sing-songs, then looks askance at Alex. “Unless, of course, someone’s getting cold feet. I can always ask if dear old Hunter’s available, I think I saw him by the—”

“No, I’ll do it,” Alex says instantly. “I’ll take one for the team.”

“Yes, a big sacrifice on your part,” Pez murmurs, and Alex shoots him a sharp little glare. Henry scrunches his brow, looking between the two of them in something like concerned confusion.

“Alex? What’s going on?” he prompts carefully as Alex marches up to him, taking a breath. He’s determined to do this for Henry, no matter the cost to himself.

“All right. I’m ready,” Alex says solemnly. “Lay it on me, Fox.”

“Sorry,” says Henry, “I still have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“Babe,” and Alex takes Henry’s face in his hands, “Don’t even worry. I’m here to make all your dreams come true.”

Henry stands frozen as Alex presses their mouths firmly together. There’s a second that lasts half a lifetime in which Alex thinks he’s made a terrible mistake.

And then Henry’s lips soften—wow, fuck, they are really soft, actually—and then he’s kissing Alex back and so hard that Alex stagger-steps, almost knocking a chair over as he pulls Henry even closer.

He tries not to totally lose it when he feels Henry’s fingers thread through his hair, or the hitch in Henry’s breath when their lips part and their tongues meet.

It occurs to him that they probably shouldn’t be kissing like this while surrounded by all their work colleagues. Alex doesn’t really care. All he cares about is how devastated he’ll be once it’s over.

Henry is the first to pull back. He’s breathless and smiling, and Alex’s heart hurts like fucking hell but this is what he wanted, right? To see Henry this happy?

Alex puts his hands on Henry’s waist, which, fuck, he shouldn’t have done that; now he thinks he might never let go. His breath comes up short as he gasps into the space between them, “Is he watching?”

Henry blinks. His smile falters a little. “Is who watching, Alex?”

“The guy you were talking to. I was trying to make him jealous.” Alex can’t bring himself to see if he’s noticed. Alex thinks he would rather die than look away from Henry right now. All he wants is to kiss him again even though he probably shouldn’t. “Do you think it worked? Henry?”

Henry has gone very still in his arms. The expression on his face is glazed over, distant. “That’s why you kissed me? To make someone jealous?”

Fuck, they really should’ve talked about this first. Fuck. “Yeah?” Alex winces.

“That man specifically? I didn’t even know you two were acquainted.” Henry heaves out a breath, looking strangely like he might be sick. “So you—you like him, then?”

“What? No, of course I don’t like him. I don’t even know him,” says Alex. Henry isn’t making any sense. “I thought you liked him.” Unless…shit. Unless Henry just doesn’t want them both liking the same guy?

Henry just stares at him for a long time. He’s looking kind of like Alex is the one who’s lost it. “You what?” Henry says finally.

“I thought you liked him,” Alex repeats, but this time it comes out as more of a question.

“You thought I liked him,” Henry says for emphasis. “That man.” Like there’s some other guy Alex could possibly be talking about right now.

“Apparently,” says Alex. He realizes he’s clutched the sides of Henry’s shirt and wills his fingers to loosen a little. It feels like some kind of miracle that Henry hasn’t shoved him away yet. “And then you looked so sad when he went to talk to other people, and I thought, I don’t know, that I’d help? Pez said you talk about him all the time, so…” Wait. Wait a minute.

Henry breathes out. Something solidifies in his expression, like he’s just worked through a math problem of his own. “Hmm,” he says in a weirdly calm tone. “Did he, now.”

“Yeah,” Alex says slowly. “He…” What else was it that Pez had said? Nothing like making a man jealous to finally…

Wow. Okay. Well-played, Okonjo.

“I see.” Henry looks pointedly around for Pez, who’s conveniently nowhere in sight at the moment. “Percy didn’t also happen to mention the fact that the man’s an absolute bellend who’s been gatekeeping my department’s research funding? That I’m thus woefully obligated to kiss the ground he walks on at parties?”

Ah. “He…did not,” Alex allows. “So, just to be clear, you don’t? Like him?”

“Christ, no,” Henry says firmly, and Alex feels something light in his chest flutter and try to take flight.

“Anyway,” Henry goes on, looking all sober now for some reason, “I ought to apologize on Pez’s behalf. He really was only trying to help, in his way. He knows how I feel about—well.” He flushes. “And I’m sorry, too, for kissing you like that. I was under a very different impression as to what it, um. Actually meant.”

“Yeah, hold up.” Alex straightens. “You kissed me back.” Henry looks cautiously on as Alex starts smiling and can’t seem to stop. “You had no idea and you still kissed me back.”

Henry goes a shade pinker each time Alex says the words. “Yes, well,” Henry says faintly. “I believe what you said was something about making all my dreams come true? Which I did take at face value.”

Alex tightens his hold on Henry again. Definitely not letting him go after that. “Henry,” he says. “You’re my fucking dream, are you kidding?”

“I—” Henry gazes at him. His smile is soft with something like wonder. “You’re serious?”

“How do you think Pez got to me?” Alex wants to know. “Do you have any idea how jealous I was of that guy when I thought you were into him?”

“Mm.” Henry tilts his head. “Yet you kissed me fully believing that it would, what, drive him so mad that he’d throw himself into my arms?”

“I did.” Alex takes both of Henry’s hands into his. “I want you. Henry. But I think I want you so much that the only thing I want more is for you to be happy.”

Henry’s eyes are bright and so very, very blue. “And if I told you that they’re one and the same?”

Alex is smiling so hard that it hurts. He never wants to stop feeling like this. “Then I guess that guy can be jealous all he wants,” Alex shrugs, bringing Henry’s hands up to his shoulders. “Because he can’t have your arms now, they’re mine.”

“Noted,” says Henry, mock-seriously. “Anything else you wish to claim while you’re at it?”

“Actually,” says Alex, “yeah, just so we’re clear,” and he pulls Henry back in for a kiss.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Brazilian GP part 2

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

Returning to the paddock for the sprint race, I focused on one thing: the job. The rain hadn’t come yet, but the air was thick with humidity, and the dark clouds rolling in on the horizon promised it wouldn’t hold off for long. As I climbed into my car, I pushed every stray thought out of my head. This was my escape. The only time Henry couldn’t get to me was when I was strapped into the cockpit.

The sprint race itself went well. I pushed hard, held my position, and finished P3 again. Behind Lando and Oscar, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied with my consistency, but there was still a fire burning in my chest, a determination to do even better in the main race. For now, though, I basked in the small victory.

After pulling into parc fermé and handling the brief celebrations with my team, I made my way back to the garage. That’s when I saw him—Henry. His smirk stretched across his face as he stood by my workstation, arms crossed like he owned the place. I immediately felt my stomach churn.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse, delaying the next session. Rain lashed against the paddock’s roof, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Teams were stuck in their garages, waiting for updates from the FIA. It felt like the world was put on pause, and unfortunately for me, that meant I was stuck with Henry.

I tried to keep busy, double-checking data with the other engineers and chatting with Landon when I could. But Henry was like a shadow, following me wherever I went. His presence was suffocating, his comments laced with the same inappropriate undertones that made my skin crawl.

“Staying dry in here, sweetheart?” he asked as I passed by, his voice dripping with mock concern.

I ignored him, but he wasn’t deterred. He leaned against the table where I was reviewing some data and lowered his voice. “You know, I’ve been thinking... You’ve been looking really tense lately. Maybe after this weekend, we can spend some one-on-one time. You know, help you unwind.”

My jaw clenched, and I felt my fingers curl into fists at my sides. I didn’t trust myself to speak without snapping, so I stayed silent, my eyes glued to the tablet in front of me.

Henry chuckled, clearly amused by my lack of response. “Silent treatment, huh? That’s fine. I like a challenge.”

I needed to get away from him. Grabbing the tablet, I stood abruptly and made my way to the other side of the garage, pretending to check something with one of the mechanics. But no matter where I went, Henry was always close behind. It was like a game to him, and I was the unwilling participant.

At one point, I slipped into the back of the garage, trying to find some space to breathe. But Henry followed, cornering me near the equipment racks. His eyes glinted with something that made my skin crawl, and I pressed myself against the wall, desperate to put distance between us.

“Why so shy today?” he asked, his tone low and teasing. “You know, you don’t have to be so uptight around me. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

That was it. My breaking point was so close I could feel it bubbling under the surface. But I couldn’t afford to lose my composure, not here, not now. Instead, I forced myself to look him in the eye, my voice steady but cold. “Henry, I’m not in the mood for this. Back off.”

He smirked, leaning in just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. We’re just having a little fun.”

I stepped past him, my entire body trembling with frustration and disgust. I needed air, space—anything to escape him. But the rain still poured outside, trapping me in this nightmare of a garage.

The FIA announcement came through the garage speakers, crackling to life over the ambient noise of the rain hammering against the roof.

"Attention, teams. Due to the persistent rain and worsening conditions, qualifying will be moved to a slot a few hours ahead of the originally scheduled race time tomorrow. This will allow us to monitor for a potential break in the weather. Further updates will follow."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. This was my chance to escape, at least for now. As soon as the announcement ended, I grabbed my things and slipped out of the garage. The quicker I got to my driver’s room, the less likely Henry would have a chance to corner me again. My heart pounded as I walked briskly through the bustling paddock, my eyes darting around to make sure he wasn’t following me.

Once inside the sanctuary of my driver’s room, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, exhaling deeply. I allowed myself a moment to breathe before gathering my thoughts and changing into my casual clothes. The sooner I was out of here, the safer I’d feel.

As I finished changing, I peeked out the door, scanning the hallway for any sign of Henry. When I didn’t see him, I let out a small sigh of relief. For once, it looked like luck was on my side. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stepped out and made my way toward the paddock exit, keeping my head low and moving quickly.

Just as I was about to turn the corner, I nearly collided with someone. Looking up, I saw Franco Colapinto grinning down at me.

“Hey! You’re in a rush. Everything okay?” he asked, his tone light and friendly.

I plastered on my best fake smile, pushing down the lingering nerves. “Yeah, just trying to beat the rain back to the hotel. You know how it is.”

Franco chuckled, adjusting the strap of his bag. “True. I don’t envy whoever’s on the FIA’s weather team right now. Anyway, I was going to ask—do you want to join us for dinner tonight? I invited Alex and Lando, too. Figured it’d be good to unwind before tomorrow.”

I hesitated for a moment, my instincts telling me to retreat to my hotel room and hide for the rest of the evening. But the thought of being surrounded by friends, even for a little while, sounded comforting. And besides, Franco’s friendly demeanor was hard to resist.

“That sounds great,” I replied, the smile on my face feeling a little more genuine this time. “What time?”

“Let’s meet in the hotel lobby around seven,” he said. “We’ll figure out where to go from there.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then,” I said, giving him a small wave before continuing toward the exit.

As I stepped out into the rain-soaked paddock, I felt a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. For a few hours tonight, I could pretend everything was normal. Even if I had to put on a brave face, I’d take any reprieve I could get.

Returning to the hotel felt like stepping into a sanctuary. The ride back had been quiet, giving me time to stew in my thoughts, but the moment I stepped into my room, I set my bag down and headed straight for the bathroom.

I didn’t just want to shower—I needed to scrub every trace of Henry’s words and his unwelcome touches from my skin. Turning the water as hot as I could bear, I stepped under the stream and let it pour over me, cleansing not just the grime of the day but the lingering weight of his actions. I scrubbed at my arms and shoulders, imagining I could wash away the memory of his arm around me, his hand gripping my waist. By the time I turned the water off, my skin was pink from the heat and friction, but I felt lighter, freer.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I leaned against the bathroom counter and took a moment to steady my breathing. Tonight wasn’t about Henry, I reminded myself. It was about Franco, Alex, and Lando—people who didn’t make me feel small or uncomfortable. I dried off and slipped into a pair of comfortable jeans and a sweater before tying my hair back loosely. With a glance in the mirror, I forced myself to smile. It didn’t quite reach my eyes, but it was a start.

At exactly seven, I stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby. The boys were already there, chatting and laughing. Franco spotted me first, waving me over with a bright grin.

“Perfect timing!” he said, his energy contagious. “You ready?”

“Always,” I replied, smiling back as Alex and Lando turned to greet me.

“Glad you could make it,” Alex said warmly, giving me a quick hug.

“You’re not allowed to bail halfway through, by the way,” Lando added with a smirk. “We’re keeping you hostage for the evening.”

“Oh, no,” I teased, feigning horror. “Guess I’m stuck with you guys then.”

They laughed, and just like that, I felt a little more at ease. We piled into a car Franco had arranged, and he directed the driver to a small, tucked-away restaurant he’d found online. It was styled like a quaint town eatery, the kind of place that served hearty, comforting meals with a side of charm.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, with rustic wooden tables, dim lighting, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. We grabbed a table near the back, and before we’d even ordered, the banter started.

“So,” Franco began, leaning forward with a grin. “What’s the over-under on Alex spilling his drink tonight?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “One time. It happened one time.”

“And yet, it lives rent-free in my memory,” Lando quipped, dodging Alex’s playful swat.

As the night went on, I found myself relaxing more and more. The boys were effortlessly funny, their lighthearted teasing pulling me out of my own head. When the food arrived—big plates of pasta, burgers, and fries—we dove in like we hadn’t eaten in days.

“So, what’s everyone’s game plan for tomorrow?” Franco asked between bites.

“Win,” Lando said confidently, earning a laugh from everyone.

“Revolutionary strategy,” I teased, shaking my head.

“And you?” Alex asked, looking at me curiously.

I hesitated for a moment, but their expectant faces made it impossible not to answer. “Honestly? Just survive the chaos. If the rain comes like they’re saying, it’s going to be wild out there.”

“You’ll do more than survive,” Franco said firmly. “You’re the rain master, remember? We’ll all be trying to keep up with you.”

I laughed softly, grateful for the confidence he had in me. The conversation continued, moving from racing to random topics like who could do the worst impression of their team principals (spoiler: it was Lando). By the time we left the restaurant, my cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

As we walked back to the car, Lando nudged me lightly. “See? I told you tonight would be good.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn’t felt in a long time. For a few hours, I’d been able to forget the weight of everything else and just enjoy the company of my friends. And for that, I was endlessly grateful.

The morning of the race was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. I stood in front of the mirror in my hotel room, mentally preparing myself for the challenge ahead. Today was a new day, and no matter what had happened leading up to this moment, I was going to race like it was my last. The pressure from Henry and the team’s constant expectations weighed on me, but I refused to let it break me. Not today.

After going through my usual routine of getting ready—gearing up, double-checking everything—I made my way to the paddock. The moment I stepped foot into the familiar environment, I could already feel the tension mounting. Of course, Henry was the first to spot me. As usual, he had a comment or two to make as I walked past him, his gaze lingering longer than necessary. His voice had that familiar smugness, but today I had one thing on my mind: get into the car and forget about him.

I didn’t let his presence affect me; I couldn’t afford to. I gave the bare minimum responses, nodding along as he made more remarks, his tone still pushing boundaries. His touch lingered longer than I wanted, but I kept my focus on the goal. I was here to race, not to let him ruin this for me.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I made my way to the car. Once I was suited up and strapped in, the world outside of the cockpit faded. It was just me and the machine. The roar of the engines, the feel of the track beneath my tires—I was in my element. Qualifying started, and the nerves I’d been holding back finally seemed to evaporate.

But the track wasn’t as wet as I’d anticipated. The rain had calmed down to a drizzle, and the surface was surprisingly dry. That meant I couldn’t push as hard as I’d wanted, and the lap times didn’t reflect the pace I knew I was capable of. When I crossed the line, I felt a pang of disappointment. P5. Not terrible, but not what I had hoped for. Still, I couldn’t let it get to me. There was still the race, and I could make up for it.

The starting grid was a blur, and before I knew it, the lights went out. As we all took off, the rain came back in full force, and my confidence surged. This was my domain—racing in the rain was second nature to me, and I could feel myself carving through the field. It was almost effortless.

I overtook car after car, inching closer to the front. The rain never let up, but it didn’t bother me. I was in the zone. By the time I reached P3, I had a surge of pride—this was where I belonged. But the track was starting to get dangerous. The spray from the cars was so thick, visibility was reduced to almost nothing.

Then came the call.

"Bring your delta positive," Landon’s voice crackled over the radio. "Yellow flags. Be careful."

I felt the pit of my stomach drop. Yellow flags weren’t a good sign, and I could hear the tension in his voice as the tone of the message shifted. "We’ve got reds, we’ve got reds!" he said, loud and clear.

"What’s going on?" I asked, my hands tightening on the wheel.

"Franco has spun and crashed," Landon replied, his voice thick with concern. "We don’t know if he’s okay yet."

My heart skipped a beat. Franco. My mind raced with worry, the thought of him hurt gnawing at me. I had to swallow the lump in my throat, focusing on my breathing to calm myself. I needed to know he was alright.

"Franco, please be okay," I whispered under my breath.

The tension felt suffocating as I continued to slow and adjust my pace. It felt like an eternity before the radio came back on.

"Franco’s fine," Landon said, a slight relief in his voice. "He’s out of the car, shaken up but okay."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Franco was fine. But the weight of the situation still hung in the air.

I made my way into the pit lane, my mind still racing. The red flags meant the session would be paused, and we’d have to wait it out. As I pulled into my pit box, I let out a slow, steady breath, still shaken but thankful. The team was already working hard to keep me updated, but for the moment, I had to reset.

I couldn’t let my emotions take over. I still had a race to finish.

As the red flags finally lifted, I found myself back on the track, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The rain had only intensified, turning the surface into a treacherous challenge. Visibility was at an all-time low, and the spray from the cars ahead of me blurred everything around. Every inch of the track felt like a gamble.

The lights went out again, and we were racing once more. I quickly regained my focus, the familiar rhythm of the car returning beneath me. I knew this track like the back of my hand, but today, it was a whole different beast. The rain made everything unpredictable. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but I pushed it aside, keeping my focus sharp. This was the moment where I had to trust my instincts and my training.

As the laps wore on, I found myself battling alongside some of the best drivers on the grid, feeling the pressure building up. Then came the moment that would define the rest of the race.

Carlos and I were side by side on one of the straights, inches apart, both of us fighting for the same piece of real estate. It was going well until, suddenly, Carlos’s car began to aquaplane. His back end snapped out, and in the blink of an eye, he was off the track. Instinctively, I tried to react, but it was too late—my car was already slipping, too. The moment my tires lost grip with the wet track, I felt the dreaded sensation of aquaplaning.

My heart leaped into my throat as the car began to slide. I fought the wheel, trying to regain control, but it felt like the world was spinning out of control. Carlos was already in the gravel, but I had a split second to save myself. I yanked the wheel, bringing the car around in a full 360 spin. Time slowed down as I felt the car slide and twirl, but somehow, by sheer force of will, I managed to keep the tires pointing in the right direction.

It wasn’t over yet. The car didn’t want to cooperate. As soon as I regained control of the wheel, the back end started to drift into the next corner. I could feel the tires barely gripping the surface as the car skated dangerously, but I didn’t panic. My fingers tightened on the wheel, my foot on the throttle, and I steered the car back into line.

Somehow, I managed to correct the slide, keeping my position. No spinouts, no off-track excursions. I hadn’t lost anything—except maybe a few heartbeats—and I was still in P3. The radio crackled to life as I rejoined the racing line.

"y/n, that was some incredible driving," Landon said, his voice a mix of relief and admiration. "You’re still in it—keep it up."

I allowed myself a small exhale of relief, but I knew this wasn’t over. The rain was still coming down hard, and the conditions were only going to get worse.

Behind me, Max was gaining on me. He was hungry, and I could feel the pressure building with every corner I took. Esteban and Pierre were still in front of me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the battle for P3 would turn into a fight for the win.

As the laps ticked down, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t just here to survive—I was here to win. I would prove to everyone that I could handle anything, even when it felt like the world around me was falling apart. I wasn’t going to let the conditions, or the pressure, take me down. This was my race, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me.

The final laps felt like a blur, a perfect mix of instinct and skill. I could hear the tires screeching as the rain continued to pour, but it was as if I had found my rhythm, my comfort in the chaos. Pierre and Esteban were still holding strong in front of me, but I could feel them starting to struggle with the conditions. The track was slick, every corner becoming more and more treacherous with each passing second.

I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away. I focused on the corners where they faltered, waiting for my chance. As we hit the straight, I pulled out from behind Esteban, my eyes fixed on the gap between him and Pierre. I knew exactly how much grip I had, and I wasn’t going to waste it.

I closed the distance with a calculated precision, then took the inside line into the next corner. Esteban was slow on the brakes, his car sliding just slightly in the rain, and I dove past him before he could react. In an instant, I was on Pierre's tail, my heart pounding in my chest.

He wasn’t giving up easily, but the rain was a relentless opponent, and I could see the strain in his movements. With one final push, I threaded my car through the corner in a perfect line, pulling ahead of him just as we came to the final stretch.

I could hear the roar of the engine in my ears, the tires biting into the wet tarmac, and my heartbeat syncing with the rhythm of the car. And then, just as the checkered flag waved ahead of me, I surged forward, crossing the line in first place.

The moment the race ended, a rush of emotion hit me, and I heard Landon’s voice crackle through the radio, full of excitement. “You did it! Master of racing in the rain, huh? I think the storm has nothing on you.”

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension lifting as the weight of the victory finally set in. "Maybe I’ve just got a magic touch on the wet tracks," I teased. "Looks like the rain’s not the only thing I can control today."

Landon chuckled on the other end. "Whatever it is, you crushed it. Proud of you."

As I slowed the car to a stop, the pit crew and team stood at the barriers, all cheering and clapping. The adrenaline that had kept me sharp during the race now flowed freely, and I allowed myself a moment to soak it in. I had done it. I had conquered the storm.

The podium ceremony was a blur of smiles, flashing cameras, and cheers, but for a moment, I allowed myself to truly savor the victory. The rain may have been relentless, but it hadn’t stopped me from coming out on top. I glanced over at Pierre and Esteban, both grinning ear to ear as we all stood side by side on the podium.

"Finally!" Esteban chuckled, holding up his trophy, the relief in his voice palpable. "It’s been a long time coming, but this is worth it."

Pierre nodded, his eyes sparkling with pride. "You’ve been quick all season, Y/N. Well-deserved. I’m just happy to be up here with you."

I grinned back at them, genuinely happy for their success. It was a long time coming for both of them, and I could tell how much this podium meant to them. Seeing their joy, their sense of achievement, made the victory feel even more meaningful.

We all raised our trophies high, basking in the moment as the crowd cheered. But as the noise of the celebration filled my ears, my eyes couldn't help but wander to the crowd below.

I caught sight of Henry, his smug expression standing out among the rest of the team. His eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, the joy of the podium felt distant, overshadowed by that familiar, disgusting feeling.

I couldn’t shake it. That sickening reminder that despite my hard work, my success, there was still something toxic lingering in the background. I forced myself to smile as I stood there, trying to shake off the unease creeping up from my gut. The team’s cheers filled the air, but all I could hear was the thought of the media duties that awaited me. I would have to face Henry again.

As the ceremony wrapped up and we made our way down from the podium, the momentary elation of the win started to fade, and reality hit me again. I tried to push the thoughts out of my head, focusing on the next step. But I knew deep down that the weight of what I was still facing wasn’t going to go away just because I’d crossed the finish line in first place.

I had a lot to prove, not just on the track, but off it too. And the hardest part? Getting through the next few hours, knowing what was waiting for me after the cameras stopped flashing.

[nerosukehiro]

Only been with you.

Yami Sukehiro Smut/Fluff (female reader)

Lord help me cause this man is soooo fucking fineeee. I just finished the series and I stg if they don’t finish that show I’m gonna raise hellll. Anyways this one isn’t very detailed but there is some fluff in the mix too. Hope you enjoy :)

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Finally I can relax. It had been at least a week since the battle with the Eye of the Midnight Suns. After the fight came the clean up and checking for dead bodies of those who were murdered by the elves to possessed our comrades. It was a devastating loss though and the kingdom suffered many casualties. However we were able to do most of the clean up in a week. The down side is that the council is wanting to kill Asta and Nero, blaming them for the whole thing just because they don’t understand his anti magic and Neros forbidden magic and believe they are the reason for the mass destruction.

So now it has became a mission to get both of their names cleared and the team decided to set out on adventures to find answers. Answers that can help their case. I was already planning on going on my own to help with the cause. Asta was like my little brother and I can’t, no, won’t let him die for something that wasn’t even his fault.

But now it’s time to relax and the first thing I’m gonna do is get in the hot spring. Thankfully non of the squad mates were at the hide out so I can have peace and quiet for more than 10 minutes.

I got in letting the warm water surround me, my body experiencing major relief. I grabbed my loofa and some soap and started cleaning my body. I started reaching for my back when I heard someone start speaking. “Need some help?” Fuck… It’s Captain Yami.

I slowly turned around and my eyes widened. He was naked. Not like I’ve never seen him naked before in fact I’ve seen it before, many times. “Awe doll are you blushing?”

“Uh no. You just startled me, I don’t need any help and would you mind putting some clothes on.” He started chuckling and walking close to me. His hand reached the back of my neck and pulled me in to kiss him. “Sir, I thought we said we were done with this.”

“No I didn’t say that, you did. You just said it because you saw that the Blue Rose Captain was flirting with me. You don’t have to be jealous though my love. I want you and only you.” I rolled my eyes and started to laugh. He didn’t seem to like that much he wrapped his hand around my neck and squeezed it just a bit. “Mmm you know, jealousy is not a good look on you. Don’t worry. You are the only girl I’ve ever wanted.” He pushed his knee between my legs putting pressure where I need it the most.

Ah fuck it.

“Yami. Please. I need you.” I pleaded and started rubbing my pussy on his thigh. “That’s what I thought. Let me make you feel good and after I gotta give you something that’s in my bedroom.” With that he thrusted two fingers in me without warning.

“So wet for me. You wanna know something? I know for a fact that I was your first and I know that you haven’t had anyone else besides me. Isn’t that right?” He wasn’t wrong, he’s the only man I have ever been with. “Y-yes it is. Only been with you.”

His fingers were set to a brutal pace making me moan loud for anyone to hear. Sorry if you’re hearing this Henry. “Fuckk Yami. Feels so good baby.” He was enjoying this to much, his other hand started rubbing at my clit. “Yeah does my girl need to cum?”

No not yet, I wanna cum on his cock and not his fingers. Not only did I wanna cum on top of him, I wanted him to cum inside of me. “Please. Wanna cum on your cock.” This made his hands go faster. “I want you to cum on my fingers first little girl.”

Adding a third finger and curling them upwards, he was so deep. My moans started becoming louder. I had no control of my body at this point. “Doll, look at me.” My eyes met his and he smiled. I could feel the tightness in my belly my body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t know how much longer I can last.

“Your squeezing around my fingers baby, are you gonna cum?” I could only nod my head. The way he is making me feel is something I’ve missed for the last few weeks. “I’M GONNA CUM, YAMI!!!” My body jerked. “Fuck good girl. Let’s clean you up and take you to my room, how does that sound?” I couldn’t speak so I nodded my head yes.

After he helped clean me up, picked me up bridal style and walked me to his room. Thank god non of the others were here to see us like this. As we got to his room he gently laid me on the bed.

“So, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. For quite some time now actually. I know I might not seem like the romantic type but I want you to know that I am in love with you. The last few years we have known each other we’ve fought together, laughed together, cried together and spilled blood together. I know it’s seems like I never really wanted a relationship but the truth is. You are all I want. All I need. Please Y/N. Be mine forever?”

He pulled a ring out… DID HE JUST FUCKING PROPOSE?! “Uh… Yami are you-“ “Marry me Y/N.” Oh my god he is holy shit. “YES!” I screamed as I jumped on top of him. He grabbed my face and started kissing me. I reached between us and gripped his cock. He was extremely hard. “Hey don’t tease me baby, wanna feel your tight little pussy wrapped around me. Gonna breed this pussy and maybe get you pregnant. You would like that wouldn’t you?”

Fuck it’s gonna be a long night.

[chilling-seavey]

I May Be Crazy, But I Ain't No Fool (ln4)

↳ Timeless: F1 Grid Masterlist

↳ Summary: With London still filled with horse-drawn carriages, Lando's most prized possession is his brand new Ford Model C...and he plans to use it to his advantage.

↳ Title Song: I May Be Crazy, But I Ain't No Fool by Bob Roberts (1904)

↳ Word Count: 1.0k

↳ Warnings: Smoking. 

June 1904

The sun was bright that afternoon, a rarity for London, when the smog from the factories seemed to take the day off. It was a Sunday, perhaps that was why; the labourers kicking up their feet for a measly 24-hours off the clock while the wealthy went by like any other day. Lando, privileged enough to be one of the latter, had perfected the art of looking busy over the years. In fact, it might have been his best skill. 

On this particular Sunday, he found himself out front of his family home, loitering around the front drive on which the shiny red Ford Model C sat in all its glory. Motorcars were still a rarity in London at the turn of the century and Mister Henry Ford was ever so gracious enough to provide some of his automobiles to the United Kingdom only as of the year prior. Of course, Lando needed first claim to whatever was available. With his father’s connections in the automotive industry, this was made all too easy. 

As much as Lando was proud of his automobile and the wealth of his family that backed it, he certainly wasn’t obnoxiously ostentatious about it. Instead, he let the specimen speak for itself with its crisp red paint glimmering in the bright afternoon sunshine while he lingered about like he wasn’t waiting for someone passing by to ask him about it. 

He sat on the front porch with one of his sister’s novels in his hands and pretended to read, he crouched by the garden in his slacks and blazer and pretended to care about the flora growing in the beds, and, when he got really desperate, he even took a cloth to the automobile to give it a little polish. It was around then that he noticed a group of young ladies meandering down the street in the distance. 

Now, Lando was absolutely no fool and, in that moment, he could see himself getting a right grand deal: a chance to show off his brand new motorcar and the swooning attention of women. 

With his sights set on the distant gaggle of females, he opened his jacket and pulled out his tin of Wills cigarettes, slipping one out and setting it between his lips. He hurried to light it and then stamped out the match on the side of his boot before casually leaning against the side of his automobile with the polish rag draped over his shoulder. 

The trio of women approached in their Sunday dresses and carrying lacy parasols, their attention drawn to the bright red machine on their way past. They slowed to get a good look, their eyes wide in awe. 

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Lando greeted with a handsome smile, pushing himself straight with another drag of his cigarette as he addressed them by name and a polite nod of his head to each, “Miss Ackerman, Miss Fields, Miss Hawthorne.”

The ladies bent at their knees just ever so slightly in response, their attention trained on the magnificent machine sitting in front of his house. 

“Mister Norris, my, my,” one of them spoke in awe, “I was not aware of your purchase of a motorcar.”

“Oh, this?” Lando glanced over his shoulder to the car, feigning modest ignorance, “Yes, it was a recent investment. Ford Model C; one of only ten in all of the United Kingdom.”

“Oh, how splendid!” one of the women gushed as the others nodded and praised in wonder.

Lando smiled back at them, “She’s a beauty, is she not?”

“Have you taken it around?”

“Yes. She rides much smoother than a carriage, I must admit,” Lando boasted modestly.

He walked around the perimeter of the automobile, allowing the women to follow in awe. Lingering to the side for a moment to take in their praise and intrigue, he finished his cigarette and put it out.

“Say,” he stepped forward, resting a hand on the rear of the car, “it’s awfully warm out here to-day; may I escort you home, ladies?”

The trio shared soft giggles amongst themselves at not only the offer for a ride in a motorcar but from the mouth of the handsome son of one of London’s most highly regarded families. 

“We dare not put you out, Mister Norris,” one of the ladies politely refuted. 

Lando waved his hand as if to physically brush away her reluctance, “Nonsense, it would be my pleasure.”

With the women in agreement, Lando smoothly stepped up beside the motorcar and opened the small rear door with a click before offering his hand out to the first of the trio. She smiled bashfully at him and set her gloved hand in his, using her other to hold up her dress and petticoat so she could step up into the back seat. 

“It is quite a jump,” Lando warned them kindly as he helped the next young lady up, “Mind those beautiful dresses of yours.”

With the last of the three taking his offered hand, she praised him adoringly, “You are such a darling.”

“You are far too kind, Miss Hawthorne,” Lando tutted and helped her up into the back of the car. 

Then, he closed the small door and made sure it was securely closed before hopping up into the front seat. The open top automobile, in its red-painted glory, housed luxurious black leather seats and gold metal headlamps and trim. As Lando situated himself in the front seat, he adjusted himself comfortably behind the steering wheel that was secured down to the front of the car by a long metal post. Sitting there, behind the wheel, something inside him stirred like this was where he was always meant to be.

With a choked rumble, the engine came to life and the giggling women in the backseat hooted in surprise. Lando grabbed his derby hat from beside him on the front seat and placed it atop his head of styled curls before glancing back to his passengers,

“Hold on tight now, ladies. I must get my precious merchandise delivered back to their fathers in pristine condition.”

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[aspergerasparagus]

Fudge you, Toxic yaoi be upon thee. Frankie and the Contestant but Frankie is just in it for the money and the kicks. Rabbitroyal??? I don't know the ship name im sorry

Also here if needed.

It had been just over a week since the Contestant had won their season. The show was still rolling in the money with late viewers still pouring in to witness the achievement over and over again. The show hadn’t seen revenue and viewership like this in years and with the announcement of a 58th season the excitement was sure to be even greater! Of course they’d have to get a few new replacements, resulting in a small delay in the airing of said season, but “Frankie” was sure they crowds would be patient. Eagerly awaiting the return of their first ever winner, his Lucky Contestant.

Frankie, as he had had to start referring to himself as, glanced over at the human seated next to him. Of course they were still dressed up in the Frankie costume provided, he wasn’t about to let them out of it lest the police be able to identify them via a hacked camera or accidental broadcast. They were the ticket to the show's renewal and continued profit, something his higher ups had made all too clear. Not that they’d had to force him at all to behave himself around them, to the contrary he was making sure his new cash cow was being well taken care of. Although saying that it seemed his Contestant was less than thrilled with the arrangement.

“You know I can’t just live off cereal right? Humans need other stuff too, especially considering how much crap is in this stuff…” The Contestant, who Frankie had so generously nicknamed “Lucky” (couldn’t have them using their real name, even with the voice filter), was once again grumbling as they shoveled another mouthful of the fruit flakes into their mouth, grimacing slightly. 

“And I have told you previously “Lucky”, Frankie’s Fruit Flakes are nutritious and contain a number of essential minerals, vitamins and a source of iron! And that it is considerably difficult to acquire a steady stream of other food products with… certain parties after us.” He heard Lucky grumble again as he finished off his bowl, the scowl he wore, while hidden behind his mask, was still all too evident. “But I do have some people who are currently working on the issue. You should have some “proper food”, as you so call it, by the end of the week. Hopefully that will keep our little winner happy until the next season is ready~” Tutting, Lucky pulled the mask back over their face and sank into their chair, but did mutter out a small thanks. 

Frankie just gave them one of his trademark grins (not that he could do anything else) and returned to work. He had set up a TV for Lucky in his office so he could keep them entertained, and close by. Of course he had the cameras set up throughout the facility if they ever decided to go and muck about in one of the parkour parks, but he was aware of the blind spots so keeping the Contestant as close to him seemed like the best option. Plus it had been a long time since he had had company that wasn’t just interested in sales figures and pleasing the investors. Lucky was… refreshing, special, different and Frankie found himself becoming more and more possessive of the human as the days progressed.

He was there when the human rose, when they ate, when they practiced in the parks, when they went to sleep… not that Lucky needed to be aware of that last part. It had been some long since he had someone he could just talk to. The other Frankie was just a beast with barely any thoughts and Henry was too terrified of him to speak with him other than work related topics. It would have been enough to bore anyone to tears or worse, at least Frankie had had his show to keep him busy. But now he had something else to occupy himself with.

The rabbit must have been staring as Lucky glanced over their shoulder to meet his gaze. The furrowed brow just visible behind the mask. 

“You’re staring at me again…” Their voice held steady but Frankie could pick up on the small twinge of concern hidden under it.

“Am I? Sorry about that, Lucky! I’m just lost in thought about the next season is all. We’ve got to make it even bigger and better than last if we’re to keep up this momentum!” He saw the human’s shoulder sag slightly as they relaxed.

“That’s what you always say, but… No, never mind.” They trailed off, obviously deciding that whatever they intended to confront Frankie with was probably best left unsaid. Interesting.

Unfurling himself from behind his desk, Frankie slinked his way over to Lucky, who maintained his ground, glowering up at the rabbit as he came to a stop in front of them. 

“”But.” It seemed you had something else you wanted to add there Lucky. Care to share it with me? After all, we are business partners now, if you have something on your mind, you know you can share it with me, after all I need my prize contestant happy and content.” While he was laying it on thick, the voice change hadn’t gone unnoticed by Lucky who tensed, ready to run if the need arose. This only caused the rabbit to let out a soft chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that, you know I’d never hurt my money maker. Not until next season anyway~”  

“Bastard.” Lucky barely had time to spit the words out before a gloved hand slammed into their chest, knocking the wind out of them and shoving them off the chair. Pinned, they swore again and tried to desperately wrench the hand off them, but quickly fell still as Frankie crouched down over them. The rabbit couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped out. 

“My Lucky Contestant, perhaps you are right. Maybe there is more to all this, but could you blame me. Right now, you are the most important thing to this show and in turn me. You are my everything right now.” Frankie practically purred out the last part as Lucky shuddered under them, a fear response or something else. Frankie couldn’t care, this was truly a thrilling feeling and one he was getting more and more greedy for.

Leaning down further, so that he was mere inches from their mask, Frankie could feel the Contestants’ panicked breaths against his face as they struggled to keep their composure. 

“My “Lucky”. You really are… different. Like I said before, I like that, I like you. Maybe I’ll let you win the next season just so I can keep you around for longer. Wouldn’t that be fun, and even more profitable~” Unable to take much more, Lucky kicked his legs up, dislodging the rabbit just enough so they could roll out of the way and free of his grip. Locking eyes once more, Frankie could see the look of fear and disgust in their eyes before they bolted from the room. Of course he could chase them, easily catch them and drag them back kicking and screaming. But they’d both had their fun for today so best to let his little contestant recover. Dusting himself off Frankie, glanced towards the screens, watching as Lucky raced through the halls, turning to check behind him now and then until he bolted into the temporary room Frankie had set up from them, slamming the door closed behind them.

“Until tomorrow Lucky. Sleep well my golden goose and I hope we can play again~”

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

you guys. i have seen the henry danger movie. omg…

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW GOOD IT IS??? also i will be discussing SPOILERS, so if u haven’t seen it yet DO NOT READ!!

okay first of all. DOOOOOOFUSSS!! it was so good to see ray again, speaking as a ray girlie. he was only in it for like what? 5 seconds? best five seconds of my life and omg he looked SO HOT. woof woof

but also jace? i’ve always preferred Captain Man but goddamn jace looked so fine in this movie especially in the shimmers scene in his open neck shirt. just chef’s kiss sir. i love our angsty boi although it feels like he’s only been in dystopia for a little bit and he’s already left?

interesting but i have no idea when the movie is set on the timeline—like is it after danger force?

i think the shimmers scene was my favourite. the whole movie is just exceptionally good like i enjoyed the thundermans movie but it wasn’t 10/10 perfection with the pacing and storyline. maybe i’m biased but henry danger was great. exactly what i wanted to see after the car crash that was the end of danger force.

the camera work and cgi and script are just so good. the writers clearly got the henry danger nostalgia and ran with it for us older fans whilst still retaining something young or even new fans. the entire hour or so flew by and i was smiling throughout all of it, just loving all the references and seeing all my favourite characters again.

plus, i think missy was a great character. sometimes the kids in danger force get on my nerves but she was just so sweet and funny. also her writing fanfiction just called me out. it’s like the writers were staring right at me - the smut writer lol

am i a little sad that charlotte/riele couldn’t be in it? yes, but they still mentioned her, so i think it’s fine. plus, they hinted at a cliffhanger that might mean more in the dangerverse (maybe another show like what they’re doing with the thundermans?)

overall i think they did the dangerverse fandom justice. they could’ve screwed it up so easily but it was such a fun, lighthearted thing and i really enjoyed it.

obvs i’m still finishing off the main story and there’s still two seasons of df for me to rewrite. HOWEVER!

will i be rewriting this movie with our sweet girl? hell yes i am. miss danger is gonna team up with her bby boi henry hart.

[dozing-marshmallow]

HENRY HOTLINE X READER ONE SHOT

You were giving yourself a tour around the parkour park after agreeing to stay for another season, now being able to somewhat appreciate the architecture of the place without the adrenaline screaming at your brain. Subsequently, you made it to Henry Hotline’s section, rest in peace, noticing the phone by the entrance which triggered him to emerge last time. As a joke, you fiddled with it, not expecting the tall lean figure with a landline for a head, don in his red suit, to actually appear again.

You gasped when he did, but of course, it was muted.

The anthropomorphic telephone snickered, apparently able to guess your surprise by your body language,“Don’t be so startled. You think I can permanently remain dead?” he snickered again,”If only. I return every time a season is over...”

“But then...” you started, realising it pointless to finish. Hoping he would understand the implication, you pointed at his head.

He did,“Ah, this?” he copied your action,“You can say it gets renewed automatically. Quite clever technology, isn’t it?”

You nodded. There was so much you wanted to say, now that the intensity of your life being on the line was absent. Though, it would be difficult to express them if you couldn’t speak.

After a moment of quiet, Henry gestures, admitting,“You know, it is safe to take that mask off.” Huh? You could?! What a relief! You never thought you’d hear that,“Whatever opinion I form of you during this interaction will be erased once we’re live again.”

That was quite saddening, but you suppose it made sense; so in the next time, he won’t feel bad for trying to kill you, and your instincts won’t be tampered by emotion.

Oh and it would make it so much more convenient for you in this current time.

However, you still didn’t feel comfortable with revealing your face; even if your identity was a secret from the sick people that paid for this fallen company’s gameshow, the cameras were most definitely still rolling. In spite of Henry’s clarification, he wasn’t the boss that set the instruction to wear this restrictive uniform in the first place, so naturally, he wouldn’t have the right to lift it. You could be killed automatically.

So to compromise, you placed a gloved hand on the chin of the mask and tilted it up slightly, revealing your mouth.

Okay, you were still here. Phew.

“Not taking it off completely, huh?” Henry commented, amusement lacing his raspy voice,“I understand. If I’m being honest, that is a wise choice. It’s no wonder you survived.”

“Can you hear me now?” You asked.

He snickered once more,”Yes.”

Just what you wanted to hear! You whisper a small yes! at the confirmation that you could reuse your voice. Once you got over the excitement, you couldn’t help asking, fidgeting with your fingers,“So...does this mean...you won’t try killing me now?”

“No, I’m going to start chasing you down again, even though there’s no audience of captivated viewers to profit off from...” he stated, before rolling his head around,“Of course I won’t, silly contestant. If there’s no live show, there’s no point.”

You scanned around the glowing environment of Hide-N-Henry, reliving the paranoia that showed up in your voice as you looked back at him,“...This was the fifty seventh season. How...often do you get to speak to people like this?”

“Hah! Rarely.” he chuckled,“I’ve been doing the same thing all my existence. Well, if someone actually makes it far enough to reach my section of the gameshow... ”

What a monotonous life... You recall the fragments of humanity Henry displayed in the second one sided conversation you had with him during the “game”, naturally stirring a curiosity for how far it reached,“Don’t you ever feel like... I don’t know... Don’t you ever want more than that? Have you ever even been outside?”

“Maybe. I don’t remember. I just know my code and go by it. It makes our viewers happy so it makes Frankie happy so it makes me happy.” he shrugs, reminding both you and himself how the livelihood of whatever was left of the abandoned parkour place depended on ratings,“Besides, I have nothing else to cling onto. It’s all I know, so why would I want it any other way?”

You felt safe enough to take a step towards him,“Really? You were never curious about the world in which these contestants come in from? You never wondered about...” you trailed off, not exactly knowing what else you could bring up.

Which would serve as a good thing, since Henry didn’t need any more contemplative substance to make his reply,“And so what if I did? Anyway, it’s a virtuous cycle. I have no soul to rest in, so I can’t even dream of paradise or reincarnation or whatever you people think happens when all consciousness gets ripped from you.” he heavily sighs while he leans back, tilting his head to the ceiling, the blue glow of his respective area painting the side of it,“Sometimes I like to imagine that I am already dead, and this is purgatory. This gameshow, this role, this character, it’s all just finite.” he then stared back at you,“Like you. It was a foolish thing to agree to another, contestant. Now your death here really is an eventuality. Whether it be by Frankie, or me, or your own slip up, you’ll join those mountains of corpses. Your impressive legacy will amount to nothing. The viewers aren’t hung up on anyone so none of us are.”

If you didn’t already have such low self esteem, he would have gotten to you,“That doesn’t matter to me. I’m already a nobody to the outside world, which is why I entered this for myself. My life had hit rock bottom...” you were going to continue, but as he just said, no one cares. So you shift the topic,”Never mind. No matter how worthless my life seems, at least if I die, I wouldn’t need to come back. Don’t you envy that?”

“Envy? Not at all.” that didn’t add up to what he just said, but you’ve become used to the contradictions in these mascots’ claims. He put a hand on his hip,”It’s my purpose. No one can replace me. I don’t know what the higher ups are planning with your so called reappearance in the following season when every single one of you look identical. But I guess humans have always been stuck in the age of idiocy.”

“You got that right.” there was something humorous about that final sentence. For a thing that barely had humans interacting with him, Henry seemed very aware of the supposed inevitable flaws the species had,“Thanks for this civilised conversation, I know you didn’t have to. For a second, I felt like I was back in my previous life, when things were brighter.”

 “Seriously? This depression I’m spewing made you remember your previous life? You really are a hilarious abomination.” you couldn’t be offended by fact,“Still, to have that distance and know it, I guess it’s just one of those things I’ll never know.” he bluntly remarked, placing his palm under his chin,”I have to admit, talking like this certainly does beat the ringing.”

You smirked,”Nice, isn’t it? When you’re not the enemy.”

He chuckles,”It is liberating.”

[lauralot89]

“You don’t know these people, do you?” [Varney] asked Ruthven on the way up.

“Not as far as I’m aware,” said Ruthven. “It’s entirely possible they might have read that godawful Polidori book; in which case this will be extremely embarrassing.”

“Not as embarrassing as Varney the Vampyre, or The Feast of Blood,” said Varney drily. “Practically nothing is as embarrassing as that. Polidori at least wasn’t being paid by the word.”

—Dreadful Company, Vivian Shaw

Who's more out of their mind: James Malcolm Rymer, for writing 667,000 words of Varney the Vampire, or me for reading all of them in ten days?

I have no idea how to feel or to surmise what I've just experienced. On the one hand, Sir Francis Varney may now be my favorite vampire in literature, and whenever this book got me interested, it was sometimes one of the most fascinating vampire stories I've ever read.

I wasn't expecting such an early installment in the vampire fiction genre to be so sympathetic toward the vampire. I definitely was not expecting the vampire to eventually befriend his victims, or to refuse on multiple occasions to kill, or to try and help those he had terrorized as a form of repentance.

Granted, even when I was fully on board with the story, it still had a number of baffling elements. The romantic dialogue of this novel is so atrocious that it makes the Star Wars prequels look like one of Shakespeare's love stories in comparison. The comic relief duo of the admiral and his valet consisted of two jokes only (they speak in sailor slang and fight all the time) which were promptly pounded into the ground. At least six times in this book, possibly more, the narrative stopped so the author could write a chapter just consisting of transcribing what the characters were reading. Because he was getting paid by the word.

Despite all of this, I was fully on board up until Varney's would-be wedding as the Baron failed. After that, we got treated to multiple instances, each spanning several chapters, in which Varney would again pass himself off as some rich guy, try to marry a young woman, and then get exposed and run away. I'm guessing those chapters sold really well and that's why Rymer kept doing those stories? Or else he was just out of ideas. I don't see why those chapters would have sold especially well because they were short on vampire nonsense and chock full of wedding preparations and negotiations. I don't know much about the target audience for penny dreadfuls, but I would imagine they would care more about action than the services hired for a wedding breakfast.

And then once the endless marriages stopped, we got several more chapters of Varney biting a woman, getting caught, and running away. The story only picked back up in the last ten percent of the novel, when Rymer finally did something new by having one of Varney's victims become a vampire herself. Unfortunately, she got finished off pretty quickly and then the novel just ended.

(I am not complaining about the ending. The ending was a hell of a thing and gave me all sorts of emotions. But we could have had Varney's exploits with a newbie vamp instead of Failed Wedding Attempt 875)

Also, I'm assuming that Rymer did not plot this story out before he began? Varney's past changes constantly, sometimes within maybe thirty pages of the last backstory we were given. He's a deceased ancestor of the Bannerworths who took his life a hundred years ago! He's an executed highway robber, resurrected maybe a decade ago at most by a doctor's experiments, Frankenstein-style! He's been a vampire for 180 years and became one by murdering an innocent woman! He lived as mortal during the reign of Henry the Fourth! He lived as a mortal during the reign of Charles the First, and became a vampire after accidentally killing his son by striking him in anger!

If it were just Varney's past that was inconsistent, I'd say he was lying or had lived and died so many times that he genuinely forgot which death was the first one. But there are weird inconsistencies throughout the novel. What was up with the document Varney and Marchdale tried to force Charles to sign? Does Varney have a scar on his forehead or his cheek? Why did one girl who died of Varney become a vampire and the other one didn't? And most importantly to me, the hell was up with the Hungarian nobleman?

Why bother to introduce another vampire if it's going to lead to nothing but a red herring where the reader briefly thinks that the baron isn't Varney, and rather that Varney is the vampire that the baron killed?

Granted, roughly two thousand pages later, when a brood of vampires assemble to resurrect a new vampire, then probably the Hungarian nobleman comes back to speak a whole two sentences to Varney, about how they met at an inn once and also Varney used to hang with people named Bannerworth.

(I need to know more about this vampire group that assembles to resurrect vampire newbs. How does that work? Do they just sense them? Do they get pulled there by vampire power?)

And what was up with that time skip? Did we need to introduce Mr. Bevan as a sympathetic character when the entire Bannerworth family already were sympathetic to Varney?

I just don't know, man.

Also, Rymer hates Quakers. And Jewish people. And Catholics. And evangelicals. And organized religion in general. And Scots. And Americans, I think. Now, this is not at all rare for the time. Stoker and Wilde and many other of their contemporaries would also write their prejudices into their stories decades later. But they didn't write a book longer than War and Peace that had big stretches of nothing except weird diatribes of whatever they disliked.

Anyway.

Can I in good conscience recommend that anyone read this?

Not in its entirety. If someone wants to do an abridged version have at it I guess. Or read it in its entirety over the span of months instead of ten days like I did. My brain is going to explode.

The first half was good. The end stuff was good. I want to wrap Varney up in a number of blankets and feed him some of my blood. And thank God he's in the public domain, because he deserves better than an endless slog of miseries that quickly goes off the rails once he leaves the Bannerworths.

Final mob count: 11

Final failed vampire wedding count: 4

I should have kept track of all the times Varney died and/or got shot, but I forgot

Three stars

[wlw-imagines]

A Hunter By Trade - Ruby Lucas/Reader (Once Upon a Time)

prompt: "Could I request a Ruby(from OUAT) x reader one shot where R is a werewolf hunter and doesn't know Ruby is a werewolf and when R finds out Ruby is terrified that she'll leave her or kill her but instead the reader quits being a hunter and becomes a cop with Emma and David? Some fluff in the end?" - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing 

Having just finished your shift in the forest, hunting under Mr Gold's insistence, you were happy to finally be off work for another month and back with your girlfriend at Granny's Diner. Ruby's long hours of working there often meant you're schedules of night shifts and hers of day shifts would clash but for the next month you were free to spend time with her,

"Morning Y/N." Emma gave you a small wave as you walked into the Diner like you did every morning after work.

You sent Emma and Henry a tired smile, "Morning you two. Hot chocolate and waffles before school, Henry?" You asked the young boy who smiled cheekily and nodded, stuffing a forkful of his breakfast into his mouth.

You were going to stop for a chat before you realised you still had your hunting weapons on you and you should probably get rid of them. Your knife still strapped to your thigh and your silver gun still in its holster at your hip. Emma seemed to notice at the same time and was about to speak but was fortunately cut off by your girlfriend.

"Y/N! Good morning, how was work?" Ruby asked, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug.

In an attempt to make your working life sound normal you simply shrugged and mumbled, "Quiet", which wasn't too far from the truth. You had never actually told Ruby exactly what your job entailed. All she really knew was that you had to work night shifts. However, she seemed content enough with your answer and pressed a light kiss to your lips.

Smiling, you pulled her close to you. You missed her when you were out working, you enjoyed the warmth and comfort just being in her arms caused you. Then that little moment was ruined by Emma inevitably speaking up.

"Need a gun for work, Y/N?" You turned to see her raising an eyebrow, looking at you intensely over her own steaming drink.

You rolled your eyes, "It's perfectly legal Swan." Justifying your actions as you sensed her legal conscience was starting to make an appearance.

Ruby's grip on you slowly loosened and you noticed her frown slightly, "You have a gun? How didn't I know you have a gun?"

"It's nothing Ruby. It was my mother's before she died," You smiled softly but Ruby still seemed unconvinced, "Mr Gold kindly made sure I got it a couple of weeks ago. Just before the spell broke."

Ruby shifted slightly, looking more uneasy by the minute, "But what's it for? Why do you even need it?" She protested.

"Originally it was just in memory of my mother but then Gold needed a favour so I thought I'd help him out and so more recently I've just been using it to keep the town safe, I guess. That's all he asked me to do. It's kind of in my blood to do it." You smiled proudly, now knowing that your mother and your mother's mother had both been Hunter's and now, in your own little way, you were honouring that.

"Keeping the town safe, isn't that my job?" Emma now joined in the inquisition, making your head spin slightly, "And you’re doing work for Gold?"

"Just as a favour, I patrol the woods at night, but I-" You stopped and took a deep breath, deciding that if they could just see how harmless your gun truly was then they'd give you a break. "I've never shot a person with it." You said, meekly as you carefully placed the gun down on the table.

"A silver gun?" You heard Ruby ask in an unusually quiet voice.

You were about to respond when Henry's cutlery clattered onto his plate, "You hunt werewolves? You're a Hunter? How didn't I see this before?" He asked incredulously, putting two and two together. "But-" He looked at Ruby but before he could continue you interrupted him in order to defend yourself.

"Woah, kid, no one said anything about werewolves." You shook your head, whilst having found out recently that that was in your blood, there were things that you couldn't bring yourself to do. Killing another human, in any form, was one of them. "I’d never- Look, Gold hired me to make sure that the wolves- that any animals don't create havoc or ruin his land o-or affect farmland." You clicked your gun back into its holster as it clearly wasn't being any use in calming anyone down. In fact, you were just getting more and more flustered as more questions were fired at you.

"Sure, that's what he told you." Henry got increasingly agitated, "You know you shouldn't kill anything. Don't you know who Ruby-" Emma quickly stood up and spoke over Henry.

"Okay, okay, enough chit-chat. Henry, let's get you to school." She gave him a look and left enough money to cover the food and drink on the table.

"But-"

"Henry, now." She clicked her fingers and Henry sighed in defeat before picking his bag up. He gave Ruby an apologetic look and just looked at you, contemplating what to say as he walked past. Whatever it was got interrupted by his mother as she practically pulled him out of the now empty Diner, "Faster, Henry."

You watched them leave in confusion before turning to Ruby, "Babe, I-"

"I don't want to talk right now." She turned away from you, clearing Emma and Henry's table. You frowned and reached out to your girlfriend's side, pulling her gently to you. She swatted you away and you swore she almost let out a small growl, "Y/N, just leave me alone!"

You shook your head, "I don't understand, I practically do the same job as Emma but just with animals rather than people. I found something I'm actually good at Ruby! Why can't you be happy for me, I-"

"Was your Mother a werewolf hunter? Back in the Enchanted Forest. Was she a Hunter?" She interrupted you, her voice increasing in volume before she slammed the plates down behind the counter. "Did she hunt animals?"

You hesitated before finally nodding, "Yes." You admitted and Ruby scoffed.

"So it's 'in your blood' to kill animals, is it? To kill-"

"No! I mean... yeah. But-"

"Then why do you need a gun, a silver gun? With silver bullets? Used to kill werewolves. Why do you need weapons if you don't kill?"

"Okay, well, on the odd occasion, I've had to-"

"Great!" She let out a loud sarcastic laugh and shook her head.

"But only when it's really necessary. And I told you I don't kill people! Okay? Whatever form they're in, I will not kill a person, okay? I'm not my mother, Ruby-"

She shook her head and clenched her teeth, "It turns out there is still a lot I don't know about you Y/N." She whispered, looking you dead in the eye as she spoke.

"No, that's not fair. There are things about you that I don't know too. There are still things about everyone I thought I knew that I don't know because of this stupid curse but we're working it out!" You reasoned, willing yourself not to think the worse about this situation. There was a horrible silence as you waited for her to say something. Anything. And when she finally did, it wasn't what you had expected at all.

"I don't think I feel safe around you, Y/N." She backed away from you ever so slightly and refused to look you in the eye. For the first time you've known Ruby, she genuinely looked frightened. Of you.

Your stomach dropped at her confession and you shut your eyes for a few moments and took a second to breath. "If this is about the gun then I only have it to protect you, Ruby. It's to protect everyone. I love you. I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I just want to protect you."

"From what?"

You clenched your fists and slammed a hand on the counter, tired from repeating the same thing. If Ruby had been wanting your answer to change each time to something she would rather hear then she was out of luck, "From rabid animals." You cried out, getting angry at such a stupid fight over such a tiny thing.

"What? Animals like me, you mean?" She asked, contrasting your loud anger with a quiet fear. Whilst her eyes looked terrified she attempted to make herself look brave and confrontational by jutting her chin up slightly and staring you down but you knew her too well.

The anger inside of you quickly dissipated and you slowly approached her, treating her like one would a spooked horse or a trapped rabbit. "What do you mean by that?"

"Y-You said that there were things you don't know about me and that's true." You watched as she began to crumble, her eyes starting to become tearful. "I'm a werewolf. Your kind hunt me and my kind." She finally croaked out.

You both stood and stared at each other over the counter for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to do. There was a part of you that couldn't believe you didn't know, that she hadn't told you. A whole other part started to recognise the little signs that you had slowly picked up on but stubbornly ignored.

The tiny bell at the top of the door to Granny's rung, knocking you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Now that the diner was no longer empty you couldn't stay there any longer. You need an explanation but it couldn't be done there and besides, there was something more important you had to do first, "I have to go." You finally spoke up, not quite daring to look into Ruby's tear soaked eyes and instead keeping your head down and walking out the door.

Driving around for hours to clear your head eventually led you to the Sheriff's department, knowing Emma would be there by now. You ran in, throwing your gun on the table and crossing your arms as you stared down at the blonde woman. "How long did you know who my girlfriend was?"

Emma sighed and grimaced slightly, "She told you?"

"Mhmm." You flopped down in the chair opposite Emma and started chewing your lip. There was a long pause between the two of you, seeing as you were completely absorbed with your own thoughts.

Emma took a deep breath, eventually choosing to cut off the silence, "What are you going to do?" You shook your head slightly.

"I was born to be a Hunter, Emma." You noticed her raise an eyebrow slightly and so you hastened to add, "But I love Ruby. So much." You'd never do anything to hurt her, that much you knew.

"You're going to return the gun to Gold?"

"No." You shrugged, "I'll lock it up someone safe, I suppose. So no one can make use of it."

Emma put her hand on your shoulder and smiled fondly, "You made the right decision."

You sat in silence for a bit, Emma leafing through some paperwork as you tried to get your brain to absorb everything that had happened in the last few hours, "I won't miss the long nights, that's for sure." You eventually said, only just realising you were technically now out of a job. "Anyway, I should go. Thanks Em, for helping me figure out what's right."

Just before you made your way out of the door, Emma stopped you in your tracks by shouting after you, "Hey, Y/N, if you need a job we might just have an opening here for you. Can't guarantee you'll never work a night shift again, but you can keep on protecting Ruby and the town. You can just do it a bit more legally." You slowly turned back to your friend and smiled, shooting her a quick nod.

"You're on, Swan."

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

It was gone noon once you were finished at the police station and you knew Ruby would have finished her shift by now so you swung by your shared apartment, hoping that she would be there.

You were torn between knocking and just walking straight in but ultimately chose the latter option, scared that if you were to knock then she wouldn't answer to you.

"Ruby?"

"I don't want to talk to you." A voice drifted from your left. You hesitantly licked your lips and followed her voice.

"Ruby-" You turned the corner to see her curled up on the sofa beneath a heavy red blanket.

She shook her head and you knew well enough to stop talking. "I just... I cannot believe you'd do this! That you would do something so stupid and so--" 

"I quit." You shrugged and took a step closer to your girlfriend.

"What?" She asked, head turning to the side slightly. You clenched your jaw at the pain you had caused within her.

You paused, formulating what you wanted to say before plunging into it. "I'm not a hunter anymore. I quit. I want nothing but to keep you safe and if you don't feel that way with me then I'll change."

Ruby stood up and shook her head, "I don't understand."

"I'd do anything for you. I love you." You finally wrapped your arms around Ruby's waist and pulled her into you, hovering your lips close to hers, "I'm sorry."

The smile on her face grew as she gazed into your eyes and her hands hovered over your hips. She begun to place a trail of kisses from your jaw down your neck. Ready to take it further, you pushed her slightly towards the sofa and tugged slightly at her red shorts. However, before you had the chance, Ruby pulled away and took a deep breath.

"What?" You asked, fearing you had done something wrong.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked, and you could still sense a dash of emotion reappearing from earlier. You pushed to do anything to clear her doubt about you.

You hooked your fingers in the belt loop holes of her shorts and winked, "What do you think about me in uniform?"

Ruby bit her lip and smirked, pushing you down on the sofa, "I think I could get used to the idea."

[bitches-who-write]

hey could you write a head cannon that the bowers gang find out that their little siblings have made their own little gang with the other bowers gang little siblings and the only reason they found out was that someone who messed with them come up to them asking for them to keep their crazy siblings on a leash because they beat the crap out of them.

Hi there!  We’ve combined this ask with your other ask similar to it.  Hope you enjoy!

(Below is character refrence from your request): 

Siblings are called the Mini Bowers Gang

Mia Bowers (Henry little sister)

Maddie Hockstetter (Patrick little sister)

Olivia Criss (Vic little sister)

Sam Huggins (Belchs little brother)

Warnings: Swearing, mild violence implied.

The Bower’s gang had no idea that their younger siblings formed their own little gang.

It wasn’t until Chad O’keif, Derry’s popular, asshole jock approached Henry, Patrick, Belch and Vic. 

Chad rushes up to the guys furiously with a busted lip.

“Hey!  Bowers!  You better keep a leash on those brats of yours or else next time-“. 

Before Chad dares to finish his sentence, he catches himself.  For once the dumb jock uses his brains.

Everyone in town knows you don’t  threaten the Bowers gang.

Especially a threat directed towards their little siblings.

It’s not that the guys are sweet and over-protective of their siblings.  Quite the opposite though

But there’s still an unspoken vow that only they can mess with their little siblings.

The guys circle in on Chad, glaring to the point that he’s so uncomfortable, he can’t maintain eye contact anymore.

Visibly nervous, Chad clears his throat. “They’re down at the barrens.  They attacked me for no damn reason.” His voice trails off.

Everyone but Henry laugh hearing the news.

Henry shoves Chad to the ground, flipping his switch blade out.

“If I find out you messed with them, I’ll fuckin' end you.  Watch yourself.”  Henry threatens, stopping his blade into the ground before lifting Chad to his feet and pushing him forward.

“Now get the fuck out of my face.” 

And with that, Chad went running. 

The guys make their way down to the barrens to see what their little sibling are up to/ what all the commotion is about.

Before their siblings are even in sight, you can hear Maddie Hocksetter yelling, clearly instigating a fight.

As the guys approach, they see Mia Bowers straddling Beverly with both Sam Huggins and Olivia Criss holding her down.

Maddie was kneeling beside them, egging Mia on.

“Come on Mia, she deserves it, look what she did to Olivia!!”

As the guys get closer, they notice Olivia Criss’s nose was bloody. 

“HEY!  FUCKERS!” Henry shouts, causing them all to flinch and stop in their tracks.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Beverly kicks and twists, breaking free from Sam and Olivia, and knocking Mia off of her.

Maddie goes to grab her again but Patrick eyes her, slowly walking toward his sister with a creepy, sinister look on his face.

Maddie knows despite Patrick being her older brother, that it wouldn't stop him from doing something bad.

I mean look at what Patrick did to his little brother, RIP.

“Maddie… I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He says, voice dripping with malice.

Normally Maddie isn’t intimidated by anyone but when it comes to Patrick (and hell, even Henry), she’s terrified.  She listens to her older brother and takes a step back.

Patrick grabs Beverly’s arms as she was slowly trying to back away into the woods.

Vic grabs this sisters face, examining her bloody nose. “Lucky isn’t not broken, kid.” 

Belch shoves his younger brother, Sam, blaming him for letting this happen since he’s in charge of looking out for the girls. 

“Someone want to explain what the actual fuck is going on here?”  Henry glare at each of them, especially his own kid sister, Mia.

Maddie was the first to speak up, nodding towards Beverly.  “This bitch hit Olivia!”

Patrick is holding Beverly in place by keeping her arms behind her back and trapped against his chest.

“Is that so?”  He smirks, getting close to Beverly’s ear and chuckling when she flinches. God he loves to make people squirm.

“Th-that’s not what happened!”  She retorts, clearly anxious as she’s surrounded. Her eyes tearing up until she begins to cry.

Vic approaches Beverly with a pissed off expression.

“Ya know Beverly, we don’t give a fuck if you’re a girl or not.  Hit my sister and I end you.”

Belch tries to diffuse the situation now, feeling somewhat sorry for Beverly as he sees the terror in her eyes.

Between being surrounded by both Bower’s gang, the Mini Bowers Gang, Vic threatening her, and Patrick giving her an unwanted embrace (cuddle with a struggle), it was enough to make even the toughest person break.

Hell even the jock, Chad, got beat up by the Mini Bowers so that’s saying something.

After some convincing, the others agree to let her go but not without another threat.

Once Beverly takes off running for her life, the Mini Bowers laugh hysterically feeling accomplished.

“So how did we do?!”  They ask the guys, looking for approval.

Henry scoffs.  “You got some work to do considering”. He says as he checks Olivia’s face.

Vic interjects. “But we’ll admit you’ll did a good job on fuckin’ Chad."

Belch nudges his little brother with approval as they laugh.

The other swing their arms over their little sister's shoulders as they walk off teaching them new fighting techniques. 

[blackcorvette]

Own My Mind

Summary: 1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other.

Warnings: Language. Stranger Things central violence. Spelling errors, grammar mistakes, and rushed writing. Eventual smut… (buckle in, it’s a long ride.) MDNI

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Hello again, welcome back to this humble little- whatever. Week five is here, and I just spent the weekend writing nonstop for this fic- there is much much more waiting for you guys in the future :) Special thanks to my bestie, @djosfavewig who will always be the first to know what happens, before it even does. Now, let’s read.

Currently Reading: Part Five

Masterlist

It starts with Nancy, she begins the story from where it starts. Retelling what you had learned from Steve and the kids, only this time with more attention to details that you hadn’t heard before, it’s only a summarized version, but it’s enough to give you a better idea- and enough for Victor to form his own view.

Then, when she finishes, you take over, from the point that you’ve been present. You tell Victor about Chrissy, letting Nancy speak about Fred, then you come back to tell him about Eddie running, how you found him. You tell him about searching for evidence, the school therapists office, then Max’s experience.

“When he attacks, our friend described it as a trance.” You recall what Eddie had said about what he had witnessed in the trailer, trying to remember what you had read from the papers as well. “Like a waking nightmare. What’s why we think he’s coming for her next. Does any of this, anything we’ve told you, sound like what happened to your family?”

“Victor?” Nancy prompts when he’s quiet too long. “I know this is hard-”

“You don’t know anything!” He yells and the echo of it rings, it continues in your mind even when it’s gone.

“You’re right.” You say, keeping your voice quiet, soft, trying to ease his nerves even as you struggle to maintain your own. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here. To learn, to understand.”

“We need to know how you survived that night.” Robin says.

He lets out a laugh that sounds more terrifying than humorous. “Survived? Is that what you call this? Did I survive? No, I assure you, I am still very much in hell.”

When he speaks, he reminisces. Its slow, a memory coming to mind that’s not too far gone, one that he thinks of often, maybe even always. A soft smile forms on his lips, out of place with the scars, but whist full.

“I had been back from the war, some fourteen years. Her great uncle had died, leaving us a small fortune. Enough to buy a new home.” He says. “A new life. It was…a magnificent home. Alice said it looked like it was from a fairy tale.”

“Alice? Was this your daughter?” You ask him, hoping that he doesn’t take it as a hostile sign.

“Mhm, yeah.” He nods, and his smile falters as he continues, a happy memory tainted. “But Henry, my…my boy, he was a sensitive child. And I could see he felt something was wrong. We had one month of peace in that house. And then it began. Dead animals. Mutilated, tortured, began to appear near our home. Rabbits, squirrels, chickens, even dogs. The police chief blamed the attacks on a wildcat. This, this was no wild cat. This was an evil. And evil neither animal nor human. This was a spawn of Satan- A demon. And it was even closer than I realized.”

“My family began to have encounters, conjured by this demon. Nightmares. Walking, living nightmares.” The way he reuses your phrase, it solidifies your belief in him, in the evil you’ve become entangled with, the evil you are now attempting to fight. “This demon, it seemed to take pleasure in tormenting us. Even poor, innocent Alice. It wasn’t long before I began to have encounters of my own. I suppose, all evil must have a home. And though I had not a rational explanation for it, I…I could sense this demon. Always close. I became convinced it was hiding, nesting, somewhere within the shadows of our home. It had cursed our town. It had cursed our home. It had cursed us.”

He drops down onto his cot, defeated.

“It took Virginia first. I tried to get the children out- to save them. But…I was back to France. Back in the war. It was a memory, I had thought German soldiers were inside. I ordered its shelling. I was wrong. This demon, it was taunting me, and I was sure it would take me, just as he’d taken my Virginia. But then- I heard another voice.”

He removes his hands from where he had been covering his ears to shield himself from the dark parts of his memory. “At first, I believed it was an angel. And then I followed her. Only to find myself in a nightmare far worse. While I was away, the demon took my children. Henry slipped into a coma shortly after that. A week later he died.”

The crying starts, and it’s horrible, bad enough you have to tighten your fists and dig your nails into your already bruised palms.

“I tried to join them. I tried. Hatch stopped the bleeding. He wouldn’t let me join them!” He’s sobbing now, curled into his cot with his head against the striped pillow.

“The angel you followed…” You ask, though he might be too far gone. “Who was she?”

He doesn’t answer, confirming your suspicions by humming a song, rocking back and forth in the cot in a way that only the most broken man would. Nancy seems not to realize, attempting to try again, calling his name several times louder each- until the cell door at the end of the hall slams open and makes you all jump.

“Is he everything you hoped he would be?” Dr. Hatch yells down the tunnel, in a sinister voice that tells you he’s found out everything you tried to hide in order to get here. “I just had a very interesting conversation with Professor Brantley. Perhaps we should discuss it in my office, while we wait for the police.”

Security removes you, forcing the three of you out of the cell while Dr. Hatch yells, storming ahead to lead you back out of the cells and through the asylum.

Nancy begins to spill everything, about Eddie, Max, and every little detail that her mind can pull up and spit out- and if you weren’t in your own head trying to organize your plan to escape- you would be telling her to shut the fuck up.

They take you through the building and back into the listening room- where your eyes linger on the patients listening to music.

Debussy.

Etta James.

Elvis.

Brenda Lee.

Beethoven.

They shove you out of the room, Robin yells at the guard who had physically pushed her, and you follow quickly. As soon as you’re out of the doors, into the grounds of the inner courtyards and gardens, she pulls you and Nancy close.

“Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house.” She whispers in a hurried manner, eyes darting up to make sure the guards and Hutch don’t hear. “But he made specific mention of music. He said music was playing- and then when we asked him about the Angel? He started to hum-‘Say nighty-night and kiss me, Hold me tight and tell me you miss me-‘”

“Dream a Little Dream of Me.” You remember the title of the song immediately, having listened to it growing up, the radio always on at home as a child. “Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Voice of an Angel.” Nancy says.

“Yeah.” Robin nods, glad that everyone follows her line of thought.

“Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t.” You say, walking briskly beside them, eyes scanning the grounds of the asylum, counting staff members and patients.

Robin nods again, her voice raising slightly, but not enough to alarm the guards. “So maybe that’s the key. A lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality.” Nancy mutters.

“It’s worth a shot.” Robin says.

Carefully, you look over your shoulder, at the guards. There are maybe two yards behind, they leave a gap large enough to take a few minutes to close if you run at the right time. They could get you, but only if they expect it and predict your movements beforehand.

“I think we can beat him.” You whisper.

“What?” Robin gives you a concerned look.

“To the car.” You say, ignoring the look Nancy shoots you.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now. I have terrible coordination.” Robin stresses. “Like, it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies-”

“Just follow my lead.”

Before she can object, you sprint. You can hear her yelling, but she and Nancy fall right into step beside you- the guard quickly realizing and chasing behind them.

The grass is soft, but the ground beneath is firm enough to keep you from tripping. The patients watch with wide eyes, the staff slowly clueing in and rushing forward to catch you. But you run, as fast as you can, as far as you can and then further. Your sides burn, your lungs acting fast in the sudden burst of adrenaline- your heart doubling its natural rate, but you keep going until you’ve lost your shoes and run through the open gates.

The car is unlocked, and you silently thank God that Nancy hadn’t locked the doors before the meeting. The three of you climb in, and are almost immediately met with pounding fists on the windows. Nancy starts the car quickly, Robin yells, and you curse as you scramble for the radio that a familiar noise comes in and out. Static and Dustin’s frantic voice.

“Robin where the hell are you? This is a code red! I repeat, a code red!”

Finally finding it, you extend the antenna and press the button. “Dustin- It’s me. We copy.”

“Holy shit, finally!” His voice filters in immediately. “Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out.”

“What’s happening?” You have to yell over him, hoping he’d listen. “Dustin tell me what the hell is happening right now.”

“He’s got her- She’s- fuck.” The desperation in his voice hurts and you can’t do anything but talk. “What do we do? Tell me you found out something before-”

“Music.” You tell him.

“What? We need-”

“I can’t explain it now. Music, Dustin. Her favorite song, okay? Something that she loves that has meaning!” You speak as fast as you can, Robin yelling for Nancy to drive faster and your heart racing. “Just do it, okay! Her headphones. Get them and play a fucking song.”

“Okay.” He sounds stricken, and the line falls into static, a sign you hope means he’s doing what you hope will save her.

“Is she okay?” Robin asks frantically. “She has to be okay, right? The music? Fuck the music has to work- if it doesn’t-”

“It’ll work.” You tell her, louder than you meant to be but you can’t handle it, not while you have no clue what is happening or where they are. “It will work.”

It might take minutes, hours or maybe only seconds. All you know is that you can’t ease the tension in your body, you’re sitting up, knee bouncing, and staring out the window. Your hands are clutching the radio waiting for a signal. Nancy speeds away from the asylum, and eventually finds a rural road to start heading back home. Robin is chattering nervously, her hands tapping against her legs. None of you attempt to comfort each other, because there is no comfort to give.

Between the three of you, the car is overwhelmed with anxiety and anticipation. Not a single one of you knows that to do or say, and once Robin no longer has breath…It's silent.

The noise of the road is loud in your ears, mingling with the memory of Victor’s humming, the tune of his song stuck in your head like a spinning record, broken, repeating the same segment.

One, two, four clicks later- still no answer from Dustin. Not a single second of static from his end, not a yell, or a cry.

Nothing.

It will work. It has to work.

Even when Robin takes the radio, attempting to call for a response herself, you sit there waiting and listening. All you need is a voice. Dustin, Max, Steve. You need someone to tell you is she alright or is she…is she alright?

No answers. Not the first or the fifth time she tries. And then Nancy takes it, one hand on the wheel while the other holds the radio. No answers for her either.

Eventually, the radio is set on the dash, sitting in the sunlight as you speed down the road toward Hawkins. You count the street signs, watching the mile markers as you get closer. You're passing the sign reading eighteen miles to town, when the radio finally makes a sound.

Dustin’s voice comes in, quiet, no longer yelling for answers he doesn’t know exist. Robin is the one to pick it up, asks him what happened. And he tells her. She’s alright, she’s sleeping it off now in Steve’s car. They’re heading back to the wheelers.

She’s alright.

====

A loud sound wakes you. Your eyes open slowly, still blurry with sleep. It takes a moment to register that the sound is radio static and a familiar voice coming through.

Sitting up carefully, you make sure not to bump into Steve’s legs, where he’s curled in a seemingly uncomfortable way in an armchair, the same position he had been asleep in when you arrived last night. You search the floor for the radio, before realizing that it’s behind Dustin’s head on the TV stand. Reaching for the radio, you take it and carry it away from the others, who are still sleeping.

In your half asleep state, you press the button in the middle of Eddie trying to reach someone on the other end. “It’s way too early for this, Ed.”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” His voice lightens when he finally receives an answer. “Um, I'm gonna need a food delivery. Like really soon, unless you want me going out into the world-”

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.” You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn. “Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He responds quickly, barely giving you time to finish. “Listen, um, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves-”

Behind you, you hear the sound of Nancy arguing with somebody. “Hey, hold on. I’m gonna have to call you back-” Eddie starts to protest, but you set the radio aside and hurry back in time to see Nancy shaking Dustin awake. “What’s going on?”

She ignores you, speaking directly to a startled Dustin. “Aren’t you supposed to be on Max watch?”

“Yup, yup, yup- Sorry-”Dustin rubs his eyes, still not completely aware of the empty sofa you’re now staring at.

“Where is she?” She asks.

“She’s right there-” He freezes. “A second ago- I swear, I just dozed off for…an hour.”

“Hold on guys-” You try to reason with them, but before either can listen, they shoot up the basement steps to search for her. “Or don’t. That’s a choice too.”

A creaking behind you makes you turn, your eyes landing on a disgruntled Steve Harrington waking up and shifting in the too small armchair, untangling himself.

“That’s what all this noise is about?” He asks groggily, his voice deeper than normal and his eyes squinted as he grunts, stretching his arms. “Max went upstairs like, thirty minutes ago.”

“Alone?” You ask, dropping onto the now empty sofa and refraining from shutting your eyes, still tired.

“Mrs. Wheeler’s up there with her. Making breakfast.” He runs a hand through disheveled hair, somehow making it sit more perfectly than should be possible. “Are you…wearing new clothes?”

“Sleepover, remember?” You gesture lazily towards your discarded backpack. “I brought a few changes of clothes.”

He hums, his eyes lowering to his two days old shirt and the jeans he’d slept in. For a while you sit in silence, both of you still trying to wake up, or maybe just unsure of what to say. But it’s not unpleasant, rather, it’s the opposite.

When he looks up again, his eyes hold yours, and you find that he’s sharing the same feeling. It’s easy to tell that both of you are tired, and comfortable. Here, beside him, you feel at ease in a way you hadn’t in days. Maybe it’s the quiet slowness of the morning, or the fact that you’re alone, save for the sleeping bodies of Lucas and Robin. And for a while, you both embrace the stillness. But like most things, it only lasts so long.

It’s been over twenty four hours since you’ve decided to be upset with him. And in that time, you’ve lost reason to care about it anymore, there’s not an ounce of you that wants to be upset. It’s long faded- but you still feel a wave of something like relief when he brings it to light again.

“I don’t think it’s his fault.”

You ask, sitting up. “What?”

“Eddie. I don’t think he caused this.” He says, his voice kept low and his eyes not leaving yours, holding them captive without trying. “I don’t think that he killed Chrissy.”

“He didn’t.” You look down at your hands, unable to hold his gaze, whether or not you’re greatful to hear what he’s admitting.

He says your name, and it’s almost too much to hear him say it in this context. Your voices are little more than whispers, trying not to wake the others, but it’s like he says it through cupped hands- loud and demanding your attention.

He doesn’t get a chance to continue.

“We’ve got something.” Nancy comes down the steps first, interrupting with a stack of papers in her hand, Max and Dustin right behind. They quickly wake the others, nearly scaring the shit out of Lucas and making Robin yelp.

“What do you mean?” Steve stands, and Robin clumsily clears the coffee table she had been sleeping on, dazed from her sudden wake. “What have you got?”

Nancy and Max begin to pay out the papers, page by page. They connect lines, the scribbled marks coming together like a spider's web. They continue through each page, fitting broken images together until everything aligns.

“What’s this?” You trace your fingers over the lines, frowning at the distorted images. “A map?”

“Almost.” Max says, taking creased pages and beginning to fold them, red and black shapes being manipulated into something else. “I saw this during… At first I thought it was a random mess, like an upside down junkyard. Everything was disconnected and in ruins, torn apart and separated, but it’s not random, it’s all pieces of the same place.”

Steve leans closer, looking down at the pages as Lucas and Robin crowd around. “Where?”

Slowly, she starts to arrange the folded pieces, Nancy helping to match the lines and shapes together. At first, it looks like nothing, but it’s familiar to you. Then, before the image is fully formed, it clicks into place within your memory. You take in a sharp breath, startling the people around you. “The Creel house.”

“What-” Robin gasps, her eyes wide as Nancy lays the last piece, the stained glass door. “Shit.”

“That’s where we need to go next.” Max says, her eyes locked onto the image. “We need to go there and look for something, anything that could be useful. A clue to give us more time or-”

“A cure.” Lucas says, tapping the papers. “If we get there, we can look for a cure. Then you’ll be safe, Max. We can get you the hell away from all this shit, away from Vecna.”

“Lucas-” Dustin attempts to slow him down, but he ignores it.

“A cure.” He says again, sounding nearly distraught. “We can get her out of it, guys. Once she’s safe we can figure out how to take him down, but if this place can fix her-”

“Fix me?” Max cuts him off.

Lucas freezes, stumbling over his words when he tries to recover. “Not fix you. Fix this. If we can fix everything, then it’ll all be over. But a cure-”

“And what if there’s not a cure?” She asks, her voice raised enough that you take half a step back. “What if instead of a cure, I die? What if we find out that I’m going to end up like Victor? If that happens, you still have to defeat Vecna! You still have to figure out how to stop him, so that no one else dies.”

“Max-” Steve speaks to her gently, his hand hovering a few inches from her shoulder, careful.

“No, Steve.” She snaps her head up to him, and for the first time since you’ve met her, you see the pain in her eyes.

They’re red, her cheeks flushed with the same color, and tears threatening to fall. Her eyebrows are furrowed, anger and sadness showing straight through her face. Her voice begins to shake, her hands flexing as she tries to hold herself together. The headphones around her neck sit there as a reminder, of what she’s close to.

“We don’t know what will happen when we get there, but we have to go, okay?” She’s looking at him while she speaks, but she directs it towards everyone in the room. “He needs to hear it- because it’s true. If I die, you need to keep going. You can’t stop, got it? Find out how to kill him, because you fucking have to-”

Steve's hand settles on her shoulder just as the first tear falls, her face crumbling with it. He hushes her, pulling her into his chest and down into the armchair. You can’t see it, because he keeps her face shielded, but you know. You know that she’s crying, her breathing too shallow, even if she falls silent while she cries. She doesn’t sob, she doesn’t yell anymore, she just stays there- and it’s enough.

Nancy clears away the papers, Robin helps her and they step away to talk. Dustin slowly moves across the room when the radio starts to go off again with Eddie’s voice. And Lucas…Lucas doesn’t move. His attention is not once taken off of Max where she’s curled into Steve’s embrace. And you realize that you can’t move either.

For three days, you’ve been involved with them. You’ve only known them for that long, and yet it feels like you’ve always known them. Every problem, you feel you need to help solve. Their triumphs are yours, and their pain…you feel it, every little bit of it. And some moments it seems like everyone is on the same page, because they’re all fighting the same evil. But now, when you look at them, you see that they’re children.

Max, she’s only fourteen. She’s facing a fate worse that anything you can imagine, she’s forced to fear every second- whether she can spare them or not. And now, even while she’s crying, she’s fighting for herself and everyone else. She doesn't deserve it at all, and you wish you could stop it. You wish that you could take all the fear and pain from her, and save her from this monster and every other one that’s looming over.

But you can’t, not now, without knowing how to. And it tears you up, this girl you had met only days ago, that you can’t help her yet. That you don’t know how to, or if you’ll even be able to. It weighs on you, clouding your head with what ifs and wishes you can’t hope for. Things that you never hope to feel again, after everything is over. And it only worsens when you look at Steve.

Only a few years older, Steve is taking responsibility. You can see it in everything he does. He might complain, but he wouldn’t ever leave them when he’s needed. He would never let them be lost, even if it means he has to pretend to know the way. He’s here, holding Max as she cries, as if she’s his responsibility. Because to him, she is. To him, each of the kids, even Robin and Nancy, are under his watch. He doesn’t expect anything from them, and part of you thinks he wouldn’t accept it.

He’s strong, you know it. You see it in the way he talks to her, quietly, trying to sooth her. It’s evident in the way he acts without being asked, in the way he wants to do anything he can. And most of all, it’s in the way he’s able to comfort her while he looks as though he himself might break.

The way his eyes water is nearly impossible to notice. The way his hands tremble on her shoulders, as he rubs her back. The way he has to pause every few seconds to take a deep breath, to keep his voice from becoming unsteady, because he has to stay strong for her.

And it burns a hole in your chest, watching it all unfold, being witness to the unnoticed. But you can’t look away, you won’t, because when it ends, you will be here if they need you.

Because, you have to be.

[briefalpacashark]

=The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare=

=Plus a Woman or Two=

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Gus March-Phillips. A great, if not slightly mad man stood in a room in front of some very high-ranking men. Who in all their mighty power were in Gus’ opinion, groveling for his help. A welcome and successful change from pervious accusations of insubordination and such. In any case, it gave him a chance to kill Nazis again. And he would not pass up such an opportunity. ”If I’m to do this, I’ll need my own team. You won’t like them.They’re all, uh...” he paused to think of an accurate word. “mad,” he admitted honestly and with the upmost respect. ”They’ll need to be. Give us their names,” a man Gus knew affectionally as M stated, gladdened at the agreement. ”Henry Hayes. A smart, young Irishman who hates the Nazis because his older brother, who was a close friend of mine, drowned after a U-boat sank his fishing trawler. I’ve taken him under my wing ever since. He’s cunning, quiet and wily. More to the point, Hayes is a magnificent sailor and I trust him,” Gus started. ”If we’re going to try and sink a large ship, we’ll need Freddy “The Buzz” frogman. He can swim across the channel with his feet tied together. Admittedly, he’s a convicted arsonist and a terrible misery unless he’s destroying something. But he’s very good at blowing things up,” M listened closely as he lit his pipe. The second recommend man coming at a bit of a shock. ”Next, we’ll need the Danish hammer,” Fleming, the one who was in charge of writing down the names, looked up at the familiar and infamous title. “Anders Lassen. Grew up wrestling bears and hunting elk on his family estate. He’s a legend with a Bowie knife and a bow and arrow. He ran away at 18 to fight the Nazis after the Gestapo tortured his brother to death. He gave up filleting game for gutting Nazis. He then turned up on our shores ready to fight alongside us. He is an uncontrollable mad dog who knows a hundred creative ways to kill a man,” Gus finished. ”Most importantly, we’ll need Geoffrey Appleyard,” Gus stated. ”Yes, we thought you might. That’s why we sent him on a reconnaissance mission to Fernando Po. Unfortunately, the Nazis nabbed him on his return,” Fleming said with an apologetic smile. ”All the more reason. He knows what we need to know. He’s a master planner, a master survivor, a chess grand master and a surgeon with the blade. We spent two weeks together in a Dunkirk foxhole and if it wasn’t for Apple, I would still be there today. No Apple, no mission,” Gus put forth the ultimatum, speaking with nothing but reverence for his friend. ”I’m afraid that’s impossible,” M said with a shake of his head. ”Why?” Gus asked. ”Because he’s being held by an entire German garrison on La Palma,” M’s explanations barley even registered to Gus. Who with a nonchalant shrug said, “La Palma’s on the way,” The beautiful Marjorie scoffed at Gus’s blatant confidence, with heron by her side sharing in her opinion with a shake of his head.

”That’s insanity,” M thought Gus had to be joking. ”You let me worry about that,” Gus said dismissively. ”Alright we have our list,” Fleming stated, moving to set the pen down. ”Uh-ah,” Gus wagged his finger at him. ”It looks to me you're assembling more of a platoon than a team,” M said, taking a long draw of his pipe. ”Only one more. Patience Evangaline March-Phillips,” M sighed at what he knew was long coming. ”March-Phillips? A relative?” Marjorie asked, intrigued at the mention of another woman’s name. ”I’m sorry, a woman?” Fleming asked with a small scoff. Marjorie’s and Gus’ heated looks had him swallowing his earlier statement and writing down the name to avoid their gazes. ”My dear little sister. She’s made quiet a name for herself. The red angle she’s called,” everyone in the room could recall the name. A famous name that had eared its reverence. Yet that fact was overshadowed by the announcement that the owner of the title was a woman. “One of the best snipers the world has ever seen which last time I checked has successfully dispatched every target assigned to her. She can dispatch a man from about 2000 yards away. She’s also a wiz with anything mechanical. Anything that breaks she can fix. She knows how to build a gun from scratch and can name every kind off the top of her head. She’s fluent in seven different languages and she dabbles in aviation. That, of course, only covers the skills she is proficient in,” A beaming pride shone through Gus as he spoke of his little sister. ”Mad like you?” Heron asked. ”Alas, she is the sensible one of the two of us,” Gus chuckled. ”Very well. If you wish to bring your own flesh and blood into the folds of danger, so be it,” M’s statement had Gus glancing down. Of course, he wouldn’t want such a thing. If he had it his way, his sister would be happy tucked away in some country home, falling in love with a farmer with her only care being what to cook for her next breakfast. That was half the reason he threw himself into the war. Only she threw herself in right after him. They had stayed together in their earlier military days. Their time together ended when they were separated and Gus was imprisoned. ”She was put in danger the moment Hitler gave his first salute,” Gus stated. It was true. It was not only the solider’s who were facing danger every day. Air raid’s of Britain left no woman or child safe. ”Very well, you have your team,” M’s nodded. Gus smiled, cocking his head slightly, his eyes raking down M’s body. ”I must get me one of those coats,”

Stepping out into the cold night air, lighting a cigar at his lips, Gus on his person sported several stolen items. A total of 8 Cigar’s, not counting the one alight between his teeth. 1 high quality, gold cased lighter. 1 tailored high end coat. 1 belly full of high grade liquer. And one gleeful smile.

On the other side of the world, sat in a little shack, was a woman. About her allied solider’s shuffled about at their down time, playing cards and such. The only woman in the room, she held in her hands a dismantled hand gun, intently cleaning every nook. The rays of sunlight filtered through the shoddy window slightly, her simple features, her focused brown eyes and her well kept but unruly brown hair bound tightly into a braid. That woman was the sister of Gus. ”Patience, personal message, from a,” a young solider barely wet behind the ears frowned at the name upon the piece of paper. “Duchess Dickward,” her movements stilled, and she slowly turned a glint of familiar recognition passing through her eyes.

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Master List =Here=

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Chapter 2

[royal-chandler]

@caressthosecheekbones is made of magic ✨

she and i spent a little time imagining a missing scene after the boys get caught by zahra and thus a little ficlet was born.

thanks for always being willing to toss prompts at me, brainstorm and gleefully coo over firstprince with me, caress! 🥰

—

“So, I did not have that on my bingo card for this morning,” Alex comments awkwardly, seconds into the stunned silence that Zahra’s left behind. “Shit, Henry, that’s on me. I completely forgot to set my alarm last night.”

“I’d say we’re both to blame for that,” Henry replies. Low and bluntly, he adds, “You and I did a remarkable job of distracting one another.”

Alex shakes his head, increasingly fond of the man beside him. “Happy to hear that Zahra didn’t scare the humor out of you.”

“Not so much, no,” Henry says. His somewhat self-deprecating smile fades and concern moves into its place, his gaze scanning and surveying. “I’m more concerned with you. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex says, scratching his stubble as he heads back into the bedroom. Picking through the wardrobe, he chooses a crisp white shirt, finds a fresh pair of slate-blue slacks hung with its matching jacket. He flings it all on the bed and lies, his hands flexing over and over, “Yeah, I’m good. Good as gravy.”

Henry has followed him and, of course, he’s got a look like he sees right through Alex—all the way to the anxiety that slides through Alex’s guts and rabbits under his skin. Henry’s concern has now manifested into a frown, an all-too-cute and familiar dip between his brows. He says, “No, you’re not. I—maybe my coming here wasn’t the smartest decision. It was irresponsible and careless and I shouldn’t have—”

“What? Oh my God. Can it,” Alex interrupts hurriedly, skidding Henry’s words to a stop. He closes the distance between them and his hands appreciatively slide along the length of Henry’s arms before drawing him in so their fronts fit together. He doesn’t know exactly where the next thing out of his mouth was previously lodged but Henry’s self-criticism wrenches it free. The taste and shape of the endearment feel absolutely right as it leaves him. “Baby, you walking into the bar last night was a sight for sore eyes. Seeing you isn’t ever a mistake in my book. Texas was amazing and I always love being there and I’m proud of the hard work but I really fucking missed this. I missed you.”

Henry visibly softens and soon he’s kissing Alex’s nose with his own, nuzzling near the side of it before his lush mouth touches to Alex’s briefly, a warm and sleep-sweet curl. His hazel eyes gleam with tenderness and Alex melts, dissolved into a loose-limbed form and his worries eclipsed by the closeness of Henry.

“I missed you, too. I only wish that you weren’t in this position. You should be free to come out to your mother on your own timeline—if you ever even chose to.” Henry continues, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be,” Alex says. His hand climbs to the column of Henry’s throat en route to Henry’s jaw and there he holds Henry in place, meets his doubt with unflinching conviction. “Don’t take that on okay? I told Zahra I don’t want to drop this, that I won’t drop this. I meant that. So, yeah, I’ll take everything that comes with it.”

“It seems a steep and disproportionate price, Alex.”

“You’re not often wrong, Henry, but when you are, it’s all the way left, I gotta say.”

“Are you—?”

“Sure? Yes, a hundred percent. I’m nervous as fuck but I know what I’m doing. Plus, Zahra’s right. It’s political malpractice to keep this from my mom. She can’t afford getting caught flat-footed during this campaign.”

“Right. Speaking of which,” Henry starts after a parting kiss that Alex unabashedly chases after, “You have two minutes at most to finish putting yourself together. The Brexit threat was aimed toward me but I have a vested interest in you staying in one piece.”

“You’re the stud standing in my shirt,” Alex says, reveling in Henry, from his mussed hair that hangs over his forehead and down to the peek of his tiny striped shorts, his thick thighs and miles of leg. He catches Henry’s blush on the way back up. “And the nerve of you to look that fine in it.”

“You have one strewn across the bed,” Henry reminds him. “Unless you want this specific one back?”

“Keep it. We’ll get you fashion-forward, yet.” Alex smirks and laughs with startled delight when Henry pushes him away. “Do you know how much I love it when you do that? Like that’s not gonna get me out of here any faster.”

In a rewind of the previous night, they dress with immediacy. Henry unbuttons Alex’s shirt and stows it in his suitcase while Alex shimmies out of one pair of pants and hops into another. Alex takes up seconds to gawk and joke that outfit is eleven steps back when Henry pulls on an oatmeal colored crew neck after earthy brown bottoms, has to duck a rolled up ball of used socks that Henry pitches at his head. A ball that Henry ends up having to retrieve from the sheets they land in in order to complete his packing.

Suddenly mack-trucked by affection and crushed doubly with need, Alex takes advantage as Henry leans over the bed, molding himself to Henry’s back and wrapping him up. To Henry’s noise of question and surprise, Alex answers quietly at the nape of his neck and short, soft hairs there, “Ten seconds. Ten more seconds.”

“Zahra—”

“—is fucking brilliant at what she does and has bailed me out so many times that I’m hundreds of gift baskets in debt. She’ll come up with something. I’m on an urgent phone call, I’m finishing up a breakfast meeting with a news correspondent for a quote. I’m tied up in business that’s incredibly important.”

“That’s me then?” Henry jokes.

“Yeah, baby,” Alex admits, the truth punching out of him and his voice terrible. His heart shivers at the soon to be loss of the man in his arms, his insides re-tangling into a knot of misery. There never seems to be enough time.

After an inaudible beat, Henry asks, “Alex, darling, can I look at you?”

“I’ll allow it,” Alex replies, a stutter in his breath. He places a series of kisses to the back of Henry’s neck and down to his spine. Then, Alex lets him go.

Henry turns around and with wonder written in face, the first thing he does is catch his finger around Alex’s silk tie, tugging it lightly. He informs Alex, “This is crooked.”

“You can straighten the tie but you can’t straighten the man, Fox,” Alex says, a little clumsily, his bravado unsteady.

“Fucking menace,” Henry murmurs, sounding endeared. He unfastens the tie and then proceeds to slip and fold the ends into a Windsor knot. When he’s done, he flattens his palm to the center of Alex’s chest. Henry looks up and it may be precarious, Alex’s thought that those bright hazel eyes are romance-rimmed, colored with an emotion deeper than casual. “We’ll meet again soon, yeah? This is simply a bookmark, Alex. That’s all.”

Alex enjoys the imagery of it, a temporary marker in their pages with more chapters to pen. That there will be more of last night—scattering laughter into and against the edges of each other’s mouths, tucked safely away from the world as they share stories and become well-versed in one another.

For now, Alex scripts in another kiss. He captures the give of Henry’s lips with deliberate care and reverence, plying them open with his tongue and swallowing Henry’s little exhales. Thumbs pressed against the hinges of jaws, the gentle coaxing seamlessly sinks into insistence, the two of them greedy to make it count—like they can leave behind and take away traces of each other. Time slurs immeasurably before he and Henry are content, their foreheads meeting softly over a tide of quick, breathy sighs.

“You’d better get going,” Henry says in a hush. “Before they put out a search party or unleash a battalion. Whatever it is you Americans do.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, roughly. He walks away with the awful, lead-heavy knowledge that he’ll come back and Henry won’t be there. At the open door, he says, “Have a safe flight and let me know when you land.”

“I’ll be sure to. And you’ll tell me how things go, after you’ve done it?” Henry asks. He’s heartbreakingly beautiful and kind, a vanishing dream. “I want to be there for you, no matter what the outcome is.”

“I’ll be all up in your inbox,” Alex promises, throwing up a peace sign and then slipping out, the door clicking shut behind him.