#i’d read like. maybe four fics max before this

[barklikeagod]

ever since i picked up reading hannibal fics the other day it’s really begun to strike me how similar characterizations of hannibal are with my oc which is incredibly funny to me for a number of reasons

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 14

Surprise early posting! Been getting these out every couple of weeks, but this was short and sweet and got done quickly, so enjoy! Y/N needs some advice, so turns to Max- who else does she have?

As usual, minors DNI for content in other chapters, full tags can be found on AO3, along with the fic if you wanna read here.

Complete chapter index here.

Enjoy lovelies 💜✨✌️

Chapter 14- Lay It On The Line

“Yell-lo?”

“Hey Max, it’s me, how’s it going?”

“Scout! Great timing, I just got my phone set up this morning. Ya know, if I’d have known you were gonna miss me this much I wouldn’t have moved out so soon!”

“That’s rich! What was it, one full day before you came back to visit?”

“Ah, touché. Thanks again for dinner. I’d ask for that lasagna recipe, but me trying to make it wouldn't end well!”

“Aw, that’s ok Max. I’ll make double next time so you can take some home.”

“Awesome, you’re the best! So, er- how you doing?”

You weren’t ready to answer that question yet. Mainly because you weren’t really sure of the answer. After pacing restlessly in front of the phone all morning, you finally snatched it up and dialed Max’s new number without really thinking about what to say. 

You did want to catch up with him, see how he was getting on in his new place, and you knew he was off work today. And, despite it only having been three days since he’d vacated the spare room, and only two since you’d last seen him, you missed him. You forgot how lonely and quiet the house could be during the day. No long walks with Samson, no lively (though somewhat incessant) conversation on every topic that came to mind. Max was just so easy to talk to, and you hoped his breezy conversation and effervescence might rub off on you. Still, you dodged answering his question with more of your own:

“I was just ringing to see if you got settled in ok. Are you and Samson liking the new place?”

“Oh sure, those four cardboard boxes were a real workout to unpack. You know I do appreciate Al letting me have some furniture from our old room. It feels… weird, having my own place. But it’s been great so far! But you didn’t answer my question, Scout. How’re you? You sound a little- down?”

Max really was sharper than he looked. Despite his disheveled appearance and hopeless track record on all the 'Jeopardy!’ episodes you’d watched together, he could always sniff out if something was wrong emotionally. Even with a few miles between you, it was like he could sense the disquiet down the phone cord.  

Truth be told, there was another reason you’d rang Max. You wanted to talk about things, and you couldn’t do that with Al. Not right now. You’d looked deep into those soft blue eyes the other day, wanting to ask so many questions- and you’d crumbled, toppling like a house of cards when confronted with those steel blue eyes full of fear. Those unasked questions still hovered on the horizon, like an approaching black cloud, distant but inevitable. You needed a few more sunny days with Al yet, before that storm hit. 

Not that Max would know any secret his brother was harboring (aside from some wonderfully embarrassing childhood stories), but he did know more than most: about who you were, that young woman from the missing posters and the newscasts that most people thought of as a runaway, or else dead and buried somewhere. Max at least knew of some of your anxieties and the emotional strain you’d been through. Even if what he thought you were hiding barely scratched the surface of the secrets between you and his brother, reaching far deeper than he could possibly imagine. 

As long as you didn’t mention anything too specific, surely Max could offer you some solace from your worries about Al. And maybe from your own guilt too- the guilt of staying despite what Al had done, the fact that those things were so easily forgotten when you lost yourself in the intimate asylum that you and Al inhabited. No, if you talked in vague terms, Max might just see those worries as a rocky patch between you and Al- a lover’s tiff, not awful fears about those dark, arcane truths that even you hadn’t quite delved to the bottom of. 

“I’m- I’m ok, Max. I just feel a little funny sometimes. I don’t really have many people to talk to about everything."

“Sure, sure, I get that. You’re meaning the things about you on the news, right? Your family history? I guess that kinda stuff must be tough to try and process?”

“I mean, it’s not just that, though. The situation with me and Al. People wouldn’t understand.”

“Oh, ‘cause of the age gap? It’s no big d-”

“Not that. It’s- well, it’s all just a little fucked up. It’s sorta hard to explain when it’s all so- so wrong.”

“Wrong?”

Shit. Had you said too much? You tried to recollect what you’d said in the last couple minutes, analyzing whether any little phrase or wording might have Max questioning the sheer insanity and potential truth behind your relationship with his brother. Trying to replay the conversation in your mind, you must have zoned out when Max filled the silence that stretched across the coiled phone cord. 

“Hey, um, Scout- this isn’t about those masks, is it?”

Your heart dropped in your chest. The cream phone nearly slipped out of your grasp and you felt your face blanch at Max’s bombshell. You’d been pacing with the phone, carving trodden circles in the shag carpet, but that question stopped you dead in your tracks. You were too winded to let out any response other than a shaky, whispered “What?”. As far as feigning ignorance went, it wasn’t wholly convincing, but Max could tell how much that revelation had shocked you, and began backpedaling immediately, racing to explain himself in his hasty, bumbling way.

“Oh, shit, please don’t be upset Scout! Look, I know I shouldn’t have been snooping and I’m sorry, ok- but it was when I had a job interview, I was running late and outta clean shirts, so I went to borrow one of Al’s and I couldn't ask you because you were in the shower-”

“Oh, god. Max…”

“But it’s ok, really! Please don’t be embarrassed. I mean, it’s just sex stuff, right? I don’t want you to think of it as ‘wrong’ just because it’s a little, um, what’s the word…. unorthodox?”

Max hadn’t equated those devilish masks with the Grabber. And why would he- who even knew that the Grabber, the shadowy specter that no longer haunted the streets of Denver, even wore such a disguise? The masks had  never even appeared outside, Al only having chosen to sport those masks inside the house: the ghastly smile; the deep-set frown; the unreadable blank mouth; the horns that crowned each of those wicked expressions. As gruesome as they might have appeared to Max, he’d only linked them to the salacious games that you and Al reveled in. After all, you figured, they were stashed away with Al’s box of tricks, right beside the rope and handcuffs and other little toys Al had picked up over the months…

You were almost too relieved by Max’s assumptions to feel mortified by his discovery of some of your most intimate, shameful games. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all- he just wouldn’t know the previous role the masks had played for Al’s dark persona. As you thought about the misunderstanding, you wondered if you could use it to your advantage. If you could speak to Max about your guilty conscience, but have him think it was about your unconventional love life rather than your unforgivable choices. Just like you’d planned, where talking in vague terms might still end up with Max consoling you, providing some relief to your sullied conscience.

“Uh, thanks Max. I guess that’s a part of it, you know? Like, sometimes I feel I’m doing the wrong thing, like I should stop.”

“Do you want to stop, or do you want to be there?”

“I want to be there, but-”

“Then that’s all there is. That’s your decision. Not anyone else’s, okay?”

“You’re right. But if other people knew, they’d judge me, or think I was sick or something.”

“Fuck other people, Scout! You can’t live your life doing what other people expect is the “right thing” to do. Otherwise I wouldn’t have slept with half the people I have!”

“Huh?”

“Come on Scout, you saw those photos. I… I like women and men, alright? There’s plenty of people around who think that’s wrong, but honestly I don’t give two shits about other people’s opinions in general. Neither should you.” 

The silence was so palpable you could practically hear the electricity buzz down the telephone wire. You were floored by Max’s admission, even if it did make sense, given those photographs he’d mentioned. Perhaps he’d had the comforting distance of the phone line between you to tell you that fact. Regardless, a small part of you was touched that he’d trusted you with that admittance. But mostly, you just felt even more guilty now. 

Max had made that heartfelt confession on a misgiving, thinking you were wracked with guilt about your own sexual activities, comparing it to his situation, and how people would always hate what they didn’t understand. But they weren’t similar; they weren’t even in the same fucking ballpark, because you’d had to once again skirt around the truth to talk to Max. It felt as if you’d tricked that information out of him. You weren’t really talking about sex, but how was Max to know that? Once again, Max broke the silence.

“You, uh, you still there Y/N?”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m here. I didn’t know that Max.”

“Well, I don’t advertise it to everyone, ya know? I thought it might help you- I don’t want to feel ashamed at doing something that small minded people think is wrong, when that’s just bullshit.”

“Thanks, Max, for telling me. For trusting me with it. Does Al know?”

“Nah- it’s never felt like the right time, and I’m not a hundred percent convinced he’d understand.”

“Oh, ok. I won’t tell him or anything, because it’s not my place to. But Al’s maybe not as… old school as you might think.”

“Yeah, no shit ya kinky fucks!”

“Jesus, Max!”

After that, Max swerved the conversation to lighter topics, even beginning to arrange his next visit to the house (which, thankfully, would be in just a few days- Max had Saturday off to spend with his two favorite people, he’d said). You suggested he bring groceries, and you’d teach him how to cook a few basic dishes, so easy even Max might not mess it up completely.

“Sounds good, Scout- but how do I know you’ll be home?” 

You wondered if Max could hear your eyes rolling sarcastically on the other end of the phone. Of course you’d be in- when weren’t you? Even if Max still didn’t know the exact reasons why that was the case, when he joked about it, it somehow made it feel more normal, less weird and suspicious than it actually was. Strangely, you welcomed the lighthearted teasing about it, but of course had to meet his ribbing with some of your own:

“Don’t worry Max, I’ll be right here and waiting for you- unless you skip town on us before then.”

“Oof, guess I shoulda seen that one comin’”.

“Hey, you made fun of me for being a hermit, I can joke about you being flaky.”

“I guess we all have our flaws, huh? I’ll see ya soon, Scout. Miss you.”

“I miss you too, Max.” 

I miss you too, Max. At least you’d told him one truthful thing.

The dial tone flatlined as Max hung up, and you slowly lowered the phone into its cradle on the side table, still pondering the advice Max had given you. 

You felt simultaneously shittier and better after the phone call. 

Shittier, because you’d wanted some reprieve from all the suspected mistruths surrounding Al, yet had only fallen deeper into your own deceptions with Max. Once again, Max was opening himself up, laying bare his vulnerabilities to assuage your own. He’d opened up about his own sexuality to quell your own doubts about being perceived as ‘weird’ or ‘wrong’ in other people’s eyes. And you’d allowed him to think that your situations were similar, your heart panging in your chest at another necessary lie. Like weeks ago, when he’d told you about the abuse suffered at his father’s hand, telling you about his past after assuming your own family had hurt you when he saw remnants of the scar carved below your collarbone. When you continued to use your damn doublespeak to avoid revealing too much of the real truths, it made you feel dirty. It made you feel like a bad friend, and Max didn’t deserve that in the least. 

But some of what Max had said really had helped, despite him not knowing what had really been bothering you these last couple weeks. Regardless, his advice still seemed sage- it was your decision to stay, and you confirmed that you did want to. Those choices were given freely these days- though a ridiculous part of your brain actually wondered if it would be easier if they were taken away, like before. When Al had removed the choice, you didn’t have to make any impossible decisions. But that was madness, and you weren’t under the illusion that things had been better when you’d resided in the basement against your will. 

Freedom meant making difficult decisions, then. You loved Al enough to make those tough choices. For now, he’d given you no cause not to believe him about the house across the street. That worry was only an itch in your brain, a tingle up your spine. No proof, no evidence that he was lying, even with his villainous distractions. After all, Al had always liked to concoct new games to keep things interesting. Perhaps it was time to initiate one of your own, if only to keep your mind from straying into dangerous territory again.

[astragreenwoode]

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Four

Previous: Chapter Three • Next: Chapter Five • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (Only Mentioned)

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-specified Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Hypersexuality, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hearing Voices

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Four: Filled With A Distrust In Authority

Word Count: 8,374

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Police Brutality, Anxiety, Self-Deprecating Thoughts, Assault, References to Murder and other Criminal Activities, Mentions of Drug Use, Self-Harm, Mental Illness

Chapter Summary: Maeven reflects on her relationship with cops before her nerve-wracking meeting with the police chief of Hawkins, who turns out to be the complete opposite of what she expected.

June 1982

Billy and I had our fair share of run-ins with the cops. I can count on both hands the times we were caught smoking weed, trespassing in abandoned buildings, or fooling around in his Camaro. We were only arrested or put in a holding cell twice, but it was twice too many times. Mom and Dad gave me hour-long lectures that ended up with me running to my room and slamming the door on them as I yelled back, “I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

I never used to do that before.

I wasn’t always frightened of cops. Up until I learned about the Gay Liberation Movement from my uncle, I saw them as people I could trust with my life and safety. But even then, I always felt some uneasiness shaking up my body. Even though I knew I was supposedly ‘safe,’ their presence filled me with a fear similar to the kind when I would get in trouble with a teacher when I didn’t even understand what I did wrong. 

After my uncle told me his story of being in so many protests and what cops did to people like him, like me, my seemingly pointless fear of authority figures was validated. This wasn’t long after I had my first kiss with a girl in Middle School.

Even if this sudden realization made my life feel on edge from there on out, something that was constant during this period in my life was my Dad; I never felt unsafe with him. And I had a better understanding with him about why he’d have Max and I favor him instead of the cops in terms of our safety. The waters of doubt became clearer after I was arrested for the first time.

My friend, Emily Bernard, was my first ever kiss and almost girlfriend, but we were awkward with each other whenever we weren’t making out. Her brother, Jordan, was my first-ever boyfriend. He was my first everything. On one hand, being his girlfriend kept me safe from the possible bullying I’d get if it got out that I liked girls. On the other hand, I genuinely did like Jordan. Being with a guy could be just as charismatic and breathtaking as being with a girl.

Sure, he was a bit clueless and headstrong, but he meant well. He was reckless with himself for fun, and I was always the one to talk him out of making bad decisions. It was exhausting at times, but we really enjoyed each others’ company. I was naive enough to think that maybe, just maybe, we’d be together forever. Maybe it was my inner child still trying to hold onto that fantastical hope that disappeared the older you get. Maybe it was my brain telling me how much I needed close bonds like this in order to survive, the way animals do in the wild. But I wasn’t a princess. I wasn’t an animal. I wasn’t in a fairytale. Life wasn’t perfect.

When I was a freshman in high school, two years into our relationship, I found out that Jordan cheated on me. He was my first heartbreak, the last first he’d ever be to me. Even when he tried to deflect my anger toward the girl he hooked up with, I stayed mad at him. He was the one in a relationship. Jordan could’ve simply told her that, but he didn’t. It was the fact that he chose not to that made me so mad, and it was insulting to try and make himself out as the victim.

After a week of burying my heartache in ice cream and horror movie marathons with Max and a month of avoiding eye contact with Jordan at school, I went to his house to drop off a box of his things we kept in my room. I was also hoping to get my stuff from his room in return. It was what adults did; it was the mature thing to do. I had come to terms with our breakup and was ready to move on.

But we weren’t adults; we were kids. And more often than not, kids are villainously petty. The day I came back to the Bernard family home to return Jordan’s things, I went from mature to petty in a flash. It was a cool summer night as I was about to ring the doorbell, I heard Jordan curse out in the backyard.

“OW! GODDAMIT!”

When I trailed around the house, I found him tripping over a bundle of tree branches. He was really good at building fires. We used to camp a lot. As soon as I saw I box with all my things I left with him next to the roaring fire pit, I lost my shit. It was the first time I heard the jumbled voice that taunted me with intrusive thoughts and impulsiveness.

They told me, “Fuck being the bigger person! He’s about to burn all your shit! Are you gonna let him get away with that, Maeven?”

Without even realizing it, I snuck up on Jordan so that the next time he turned around, he’d scream and fall backward. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He screamed like your average horror movie victim; it was probably the reason he didn’t like to watch them with me. Jordan could be tough and headstrong in certain situations but was a clumsy scaredy-cat once he stepped outside of them.

“Oh, hey, Mae-Mae! Hi, uhmmm, what. . .what’re you doing here?”

“You don’t get to fucking call me that, Jordan! Not anymore! So, I’ll ask you again; what the hell are you doing?!”

As he awkwardly looked me up and down, he frantically gathered the branches and threw them into the fire pit with some old clothes I didn’t recognize. It must’ve been for kindling.

“What’re you doing here?”

I rolled my eyes. Did he honestly think I was that stupid? Did he not see the completely obvious box of his things I had in my hands?

“I asked you first,” I sneered at him. He jumbled on his words momentarily, making random vowels and sounds before straightening his train of thought.

“Spring cleaning?” He gave me a nervous smile that said ‘please buy it,’ as he began sweating.

“It’s June, and that’s a fire,” I pointed out.

His pupils dilated with panic as he stood up before a lame attempt was made to hide my box of stuff behind his dumbass legs as if I hadn’t already seen it. One of my worst pet peeves of his was how he refused to admit when he was cold. I rarely saw him out of shorts.

“My turn. What’re you doing here?”

“I was gonna be the bigger person and return the stuff you left at my house before proceeding to never speak to you again.” I gestured to the box of his things in my grasp before placing my hand on my hip and tilting my head.

“Good for you, Maeven. I’m proud of you,” he said so matter-of-factly. I could tell he was bursting with the energy he needed to make a run for the house.

“Yeah. But now. . .now I’m having second thoughts.”

The closest thing to Jordan shitting his pants was his heart dropping into his stomach. He had never seen me this angry before, but I had been bottling up all the bullshit he made me endure these past two years.

“Really? Why is that?” 

If it were possible, he’d fill a barrel of nervous sweat like an old cartoon.

“Because you’re burning my shit, Jordan! That’s why!” I almost cut him off, my intrusive thoughts and instinct response jumping against his verbal attack.

“No I wasn’t,” he defended himself, surprisingly calm. “Can I have my box back now?”

Yes. This was the hill I was willing to die on.

“I don’t know, Jordan! Can I have my virginity back?!”

The world around us suddenly went deadly silent and laced with tension. Jordan’s eyes widened in shock, but he remained speechless. If I’d been able to see beyond my anger at his betrayal, I would’ve noticed the small changes in his body that indicated when his heart split in half.

“I didn’t even burn it, yet!” he whined.

“But you were going to,” I clarified. His eyes widened as he realized he was caught red-handed in a lie.

“. . .shit.”

As if he was an animal using its defense mechanisms, he took one of the branches out of the fire pit and swung it at me, hitting my arm as the flames burnt my skin. It felt like someone pushed me into a hot grill.

“Are. . .you. . .SERIOUS?!?!”

My face scrunched up in anger as I subconsciously threw his box on the fire pit. I didn’t feel the pain in my knuckles until after it collided with his face; at least it didn’t hurt as much as my arm burned. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did to see him clutching his face on the grass like that as he pinched his nose to stop the flow of blood. He was pathetic before, but he looked even more so now.

“What’re you two idiots doing??” Emily yelled at us as she stood on the porch.

“I’m not an idiot!” Jordan and I yelled in unison.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes. “Hey, Idiot and Maeven. Knock it off.”

I let out a laugh so unnecessarily loud, making me feel even better than before now that I knew at least someone was on my side. . .for now.

“Whose side are you on??” Jordan whined again, getting up to walk towards the porch to his sister.

“Let’s see who wins first, then I’ll decide,” she replied.

“She burnt my stuff, Em!” he yelled, using his now blood-covered hand to point at me like a tattling toddler. “Skating and rock music have driven her to violence!”

I walked right up to him as he backed off like a cornered rabbit. I got up right in his face as I narrowed my eyes.

“You were gonna burn my stuff first, Jordan! And the only thing that has driven me to violence is you, you small-dicked son of a bitch!”

At my last syllable, he stumbled backward on his feet and knocked the back of his head on the wooden railing of the porch.

“HA!” Emily laughed before covering her mouth with her hand.

Jordan got up almost immediately and towered over me, ready to defend his honor.

“I told you never to mention that!” he yelled, shoving my shoulders, forcing me to step back from him a bit. I turned my eyes toward Emily.

“Will you please talk some sense into your lunatic of a brother!?”

She exhaustedly groaned, tilting her head up to the sky.

“You’re both acting like lunatics! And if you don’t knock it the hell off, someone’s gonna call the cops!”

In her defense, we were pretty loud.

“Fine. I’ll go as soon as you apologize and give me back my stuff,” I said, turning my head to Jordan. He had gotten what he deserved. I burnt his stuff, gave him a bloody nose, and announced the size of his dick to his whole neighborhood. That should’ve satisfied me, I should’ve known when to walk away, but I didn’t.

“Apologize?!” he laughed in my face. “I don’t have to apologize for anything, Maeven! You punched me in the face and burnt my shit! And technically, you don’t get a say in what I do with ‘your’ shit. You left it at my house, therefore, it's mine.”

I considered punching him again, but I didn’t. It would’ve landed me in more trouble than I already was about to be in.

“There she is! Right there!”

I turned around to see Mr. Bernard pointing his finger at me, two cops behind him as they stomped their way toward me. One of them took out their set of handcuffs.

“Dad?” Emily asked him. “What’re you doing?!”

“Oh, shit-AAAHH!!”

Before I knew it, one of the cops shoved me in the chest and sent me falling backward on the grass. My head collided with the ground and made my ears ring as I tried to find my bearings.

The one without the handcuffs aggressively turned me over onto my stomach before proceeding to push his knee into the small of my back. It forced the air out of my stomach and lungs. My brain tried to force my body to move, but I was frozen in place. I understood now that it was my body’s way of keeping me safe; it knew better than my head that I couldn’t fight this situation.

“What the hell!? I didn’t do anything!”

He shoved my head into the grass with his hand as his partner bound my hands. They hauled me up by the chain of the cuffs as they dug into my wrists, roughly grabbing my arms as they dragged me away.

“You’re under arrest for domestic violence and destruction of property. You have the right to remain silent-”

I blocked them out and turned my eyes to the Bernards.

“You’re arresting me for a bloody nose and a bad breakup?!” I scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?! He’s the one who burnt me!”

I couldn’t prove it, but I swear that one of them dug his fingers into the fresh burn on my arm. My feet refused to move as they dragged me along the grass from the backyard to their squad car; it was hard to believe this was really happening. It certainly wasn’t necessary for them to be this aggressive with a 5’4 fifteen-year-old girl.

“Dad, what’re you doing?!” Emily yelled behind me.

I could hear them trailing behind us as one of the cops kicked at my feet, forcing me to stand and walk with them.

“She assaulted him! It’s the least she deserves!” Mr. Bernard replied to his daughter.

“Dad, it’s just a bloody nose! I’m fine! Just let her go!”

That was certainly a surprise. It was the first time I heard Jordan show any type of courage. Even after I burnt his things and punched him, he wanted to help me.

“Maeven, it’s gonna be fine! I’ll call your mom!”

“What?! No!” I turned to Emily as the cops pushed me into the back of the car. “She’ll kill me! Call my Dad!”

“I don’t have his number!”

“Fuck! Okay, just. . .just don’t worry about it, Em. Okay?” I yelled through the glass. “Don’t call anyone. I’ll call him when I get there.”

As they drove me away to the station, I wasn’t certain of it, but I thought I could see Jordan mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ to me. I shut my eyes and did my best to put my mind anywhere else but here. I wasn’t being arrested. This wasn’t happening. I was with my Dad and my sister in the woods. We were having fun. Everything was fine. It felt like heaven.

That trick never worked, but I still try it to this day.

A week later, I found my box of stuff returned to me on the front steps of my house, along with a note I didn’t have the strength to read. Jordan was officially the bigger person in this equation.

. . .

Without his morning cup of coffee, Jim Hopper couldn’t comprehend the busy sounds of the police station; the ringing of the phones, Flo’s daily notifications about his upcoming meetings, and the occasional pats on his back for just being present before noon. The small coffee machine was a gift from God, he convinced himself. A sip from the strong, fresh-brewed cup of coffee melted away all his sleep deprivation, muscle tension, and lingering hangover; as well as the headache from taking care of a certain little girl whom he shared his cabin with.

Taking a seat at his desk, his vision cleared and focused as he stared into his cup as he added his desired amount of sugar and a splash of the thick creamer. Hopper faced the tower of manilla folders, stacked as high as they could go without tipping over. He flipped open the folder on top before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door.

“What?” he groaned out. There was never a moment of peace around here.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Hop. Or should I say ‘afternoon?’” Flo let out a laugh. She flopped yet another Manilla file on his desk right in front of him, almost tipping over his coffee. The digital clock on his desk read 3:26 PM in red letters.

“Flo, why would you do that? Can you seriously not see the big stack right next to me?” he whined, palming his face and rubbing his eyes with both hands. Flo rolled her eyes.

“This might just be my personal opinion, Hop, but if you didn’t spend most nights drinking and your mornings nursing your hangovers, maybe that damn stack wouldn’t be as tall as the Empire State Building,” she retorted back at him, hand on her hip.

“You’ve never been out of Hawkins, Flo. How do you know how big the Empire State Building is?”

“Just read the damn file, smartass. It’s the most recent one, anyway. You got a meeting with them in about a half hour, so study up.” Flo had worked with him long enough to know he needed a playfully harsh nudge to get his ass going in the morning. She wasn’t gonna let him get off that easy after showing up late and only working for a couple of hours. And Hopper thought it was the coffee that did it.

Before strutting her way out of his office, she turned to him once more for a final note. “Also, you’re four o’clock is running behind, so don’t expect to be out of here before five tonight, you big oaf,” Flo added, one hand on the doorknob while the other pushed up her glasses. Hopper softly banged his head against the top of his desk in response, pointing to the hot cup of coffee in his fist.

“You want this open or closed?” she laughed out.

“Closed.”

Flo left the door halfway open; a compromise.

The Chief picked his head up and let out a long and therapeutic groan, blindly opening the folder in front of him. He kept his eyes closed for a short moment of calm to officially prepare himself for the rest of the day, however long that ended up being. The contents of the now open file caught his eye, as it was faxed to him all the way from San Diego. How did someone end up in the back-forty of Indiana from the busy city streets in California?

Margaret Maeven Mayfield, it read, a month away from turning eighteen. Hopper could’ve sworn he had heard ‘Mayfield’ somewhere before. It sounded like a distantly blurred name of someone from his military days. Now wide awake, he actually took his time to thoroughly read it in all its details instead of just skimming over the fine print to get each case knocked out as soon as possible. ‘Maeven’ was certainly a unique choice for a middle name. He wondered what it meant.

Despite being reported as being intimidatingly smart and well-behaved by all the staff at her old school and the San Diego police, Margaret had made quite the case for herself as a rebel. Her first arrest was when she was fifteen. The charges, in order, were Domestic Violence, Destruction of Property, Drug Possession, Vandalism, Public Indecency, Public Intoxication, Assault, Inciting a Riot, and Manslaughter. What was even more enticing was that most of all these charges were dropped against the girl, and she was sentenced to community service instead of jail time. Apparently, she was very enthusiastic about her punishment and was rewarded for her work by the community. Who does that? Certainly, not anyone Hopper knows.

Her mugshot emanated an unsettling tone of both heartbreak and terror. She was randomly splashed with blood as she held her name up in front of her, her eyes sunken in. They were dark, both in and under, but still wide as if she had just come face-to-face with the devil himself. She looked so scared. Margaret had a past as wild as Hopper’s entire life had been, and she hadn’t even finished High School yet; expelled from School after her assault, a history of fighting and drug problems, and three months in an In-Patient Mental Institution was enough to grab anyone’s attention, let alone a Police Officer’s. 

He knew appearances could be deceiving, but the known victim and suspected criminal looked nothing more than a scared little kid. It reminded Hopper of the Munson boy; practically stolen after his mother’s overdose, both done by the hands of his father, Al Munson. Poor little Eddie just got dealt the wrong cards and had no choice but to accept his place in society as the future resident burnout, both put in place and enforced by the league soccer moms in Hawkins. Hopper wasn’t sure any kid deserved that, even if Munson and Maeven weren’t really kids, anymore. How could someone so young and full of life be accused of so many horrific things?

Jim let his mind wander for a moment back to the times when he himself was a dumb teenager who didn’t know any better. Under the young girl’s circumstances, he could definitely see how and why wrongful accusations could be made against her. He saw himself in the file; a misunderstood kid from the other side of town guilty of nothing but defying their ‘destiny’ and tainting their reputation as a straight-laced good kid. In small towns like Hawkins, you cross a certain street and it’s like a whole other world; divided between the shabby cabins and trailer parks with the so-called ‘town bums’ and the suburbian paradise the soccer moms and their nuclear families shielded themselves within.

The ringing of the phone interrupts Hopper’s thoughts, and he’s suddenly now aware of how he’s been studying the Mayfield file for so long that the red digits on the clock suddenly read 4:32 PM. He huffed out a long sigh before picking up the phone and pressing it to his ear.

“What d'ya got for me, Flo?”

“Mrs. Hargrove and her daughter are here. Should I send ‘em in, or are you still nursing that hangover?”

“Yeah, yeah, send ‘em down. . .smartass.”

. . .

Maeven missed her long hair.

As a child, she wanted nothing more than to have what she, Max, and her parents dubbed ‘princess hair.’ Rapunzel was always her favorite, and she had complained multiple times that the Walt Disney Company was yet to make a movie about her. But she always pictured herself being a wild princess who runs through the woods with leaves and twigs in her hair.

It took her a while to learn how to properly take care of it. She was always so sad when it had to be cut shorter; a result of her failed attempts to grow it out ending in a barrage of too many tangles and knots. After a few too many cuts than she was comfortable with, Maeven finally grew old and patient enough to settle into a good hair-care routine when she was around ten years old.

She loved having so many ways to flaunt her wavy red locks; ponytails, pigtails, braids, and buns. But her favorite way to wear it was to just let it flow down past her shoulders, below her breasts, stopping at the small of her back, so wild and free. Maeven loved the way her partners stroked or tugged on it whenever she was intimate with them. Billy once told her when he fucked her on his lap that running his hands through her hair felt like he was touching the setting sun. 

Having Maeven’s hair draped across his body like a silk curtain was one of the only places he felt truly safe. Of course, he had never admitted it aloud to her. It was partially to keep up his tough reputation, but he also didn’t feel like he needed to tell her. Maeven already knew, he could tell. She was always good at reading him.

Maeven’s hair was always the first thing people noticed about her. It was the first thing they noticed about Max and their Mom, too. Besides the blue eyes and the freckles, it was the Mayfield ladies’ defining feature. It was why everyone was so disappointed when she cut it all off so suddenly. One night last February, she woke up from yet another nightmare, a flashback, that someone chased her, hunted her down like a wild animal, and caught her by her hair.

New Year's Eve, 1983 ruined a lot of things for her; parties, drugs, nighttime, and outside, just to name a few. But the worst part of it was no longer feeling safe in her own body. It was the feeling that she was no longer safe being herself. So, acting on sheer impulse and instinct, Maeven took the sewing shears from her mother’s craft room and hastily cut off her long ginger locks until her hair ended up choppy, just below her ears. 

She wasn’t sure if she should’ve felt sad at what she had done to herself, or feel relieved now that the cause of her paranoia was severed from her head. All she did know was that she had one less thing to worry about; one less thing that people liked to take advantage of. She didn’t want to be hunted, anymore. She was a little bit safer. . .for now, Even though her emotions weren’t certain, she still cried her eyes out that night.

After letting it grow a bit and finally evening it out, Maeven did her best to embrace her new look. She just decided that she wasn’t going to look at herself in the bathroom mirror unless she absolutely had to brush her hair or put on makeup. It was easier that way; less painful. As the cold, autumn wind passed through Hawkins and made the back of her neck chill that she missed her former length the most. It helped that she never needed a scarf in the winter, as she could always use her hair to cover her neck.

Maeven scratched the back of her neck, running her fingertips over her hairline and short fuzz to soothe herself. She twirled her short locks around her finger and pulled hard; a not-so-healthy way to cure her boredom and keep her anxiety occupied. It was times like this she regretted cutting away her hair the most. The times when she wanted nothing more than to hide her face behind her firey red locks and just sink into herself. 

She had slowly gotten used to the constant presence of police since her first arrest at fifteen and all the times that followed afterward. Whatever name you give them, cops, police, pigs, dicks, every officer of the law was different in their own way. Maeven had met maybe a handful of them who actually seemed concerned for her well-being and genuinely wanted to help her. That didn’t make their looming presence any less threatening to her. More often than not, they were the kind to attack first and ask questions later. 

Since being discharged from inpatient psychiatric treatment, Maeven did her hardest to appear non-threatening and be on her best behavior, especially around the police. She steered clear of them. Even though she tended to steer clear of everyone these days, she avoided confrontation with police especially. With all the charges that had been brought against her in the years following her first arrest, Maeven knew that whatever was on her permanent record, it wasn’t a flattering portrayal.

The treatment program she went to maybe have helped her with a lot of her many mental issues, but Maeven still felt broken. Even if she recovered, she didn’t feel quite like a human again, and she secretly wished she could just change. It didn’t matter what or who. Honestly? She wouldn’t mind being a rock or a dying star, an animal or an insect. It wasn’t important to her. All that mattered was that she wouldn’t feel like this; being a human was a messy, painful merry-go-round of inconsistencies. It wasn’t worth it, anymore.

Maeven wasn’t sure exactly what was keeping her alive. She felt it getting stronger once they moved to Hawkins, and she was determined to find it. But, for now, her life would just be a mundane and painful routine of various medications, her many coping skills that ranged from healthy to unhealthy, visits with cops and therapists, and trying to stop herself from getting in her own way. It was working. . .slowly. But that's the thing about healing; it isn’t always linear.

She didn’t even hear the receptionist call to her and her mom until she felt her grab her hand in an attempt to bring her daughter along to, . .

“Wait. . .where are we again?” Maeven thought allowed, not even realizing it until her mom looked at her with wide eyes, a mixture of disappointment and concern. It hurt to look at.

“The Police Station, Maevey. You have a meeting, remember?”

Maeven said nothing, her brain still catching up with the rest of the world and the concept of time. She dug her sharply manicured nails into her palms, taking a moment to swallow her anxiety down before smiling and nodding at her mom.

“That’s right,” Maeven silently remembered. After the tour of the school, Neil dropped her and Susan off at the police station. Billy took Max to the arcade and he was no doubt killing time by using the back roads of Hawkins like his own personal race track.

“You were disassociating again, bitch,” the voice scolded.

As her mom gently tugged her along toward the Chief’s office, Maeven felt like the world around her was growing smaller. Technically it was; the walls narrowed as Susan led her down the hallway from the front desk. It wasn’t long at all, or even that narrow. But that’s how it felt.

Susan Hargrove, on the other hand, walked in front of her daughter like she owned the place. Another flaw of Neil’s that rubbed off on her. Maeven wasn’t sure if she should feel scared or safe. She hadn’t felt like she needed her mom’s guidance and protection since she was little. Were either of the Mayfield women themselves, anymore?

Her mom stood halfway through the threshold of the Chief’s office as Maeven mentally prepared herself to remain calm in front of him. This man had access to her file; a collection of her worst moments where she was decided to be bad by people who didn’t know her. He had the power to use everything in that file to make her life worse if he wanted to. It all depended on his impression of her, on whether or not she can do a good job convincing him that she wasn’t the person those documents painted her as.

“I take it you’re Mrs. . .Hargrove? I thought it was ‘Mayfield?’”

“That was my last husband’s name, Mr. Hopper. I remarried this year,” Susan promptly corrected him. Hopper’s eyebrows raised as his eyes narrowed.

“Another Suburban Soccer Mom. Go figure,” he thought to himself.

“Alright, then. C’mon in and have a seat, ladies. I don’t bite,” Hopper gestured to the chairs facing his desk.

“Yeah. You might not bite. But what about you, Maevey?”

Maeven didn’t acknowledge the voice this time but crossed her arms around her middle to hug herself. 

She rounded the corner and looked at the Chief. Hopper looked like someone her dad would get along with. Not the sleazy, sexist drunk ones who hovered around him in San Francisco. Out of his police garb, Maeven predicted that he’d be someone’s dad or cool uncle who takes you fishing or cooks you a classic American breakfast. She took a seat next to her mother in her matching leather office chair. The urge to play with and pick at the tears and cracks was annoyingly strong.

Maeven sat so that both her hands were tucked under both her legs, hidden underneath her skirt. She didn’t want her mom to draw any more unnecessary attention to her fidgeting. That was embarrassing.

Hopper couldn’t help but stare at the nervous girl in front of him. She was definitely smaller than he expected, maybe because of the way she carried herself as if she was trying to disappear. No matter how many years he had under his belt as an officer, the cases that involved kids never got easier. In fact, they had only gotten more difficult in the last year. Between Will going missing in a whole nother goddamn dimension and suddenly becoming a parent to a girl again, Jim had a lot to adjust to, lately. And it seemed like he certainly wasn’t the only one.

This girl was too impossibly young to know grief this large. Yet, here she sits in front of him. And even if her files were up to date, Jim had his doubts. He knew that looks could be deceiving, but Margaret Mayfield didn’t look or act like a criminal, much less a bad person. There was just no way.

“So. . .what brings you in today?”

For once, Maeven decided not to count the stains on the carpet or the scratches on the Chief’s desk. Not that she wanted to talk to him, but she just didn’t want to be silent and awkward anymore. In the past, the cops she dealt with before interpreted her silence as a threat, or a confession of her guilt. And she left the school tour feeling oddly confident after meeting Nancy and Steve.

Of course, her mother just had to speak for her. 

“My husband called in and spoke with your receptionist, Flora, to make sure you got my daughter’s file from Captain Daly down in San Diego. We just moved here, and we wanna make sure she has a. . .a good relationship with the law enforcement here so that she hopefully doesn’t repeat her past mistakes,” she explained, finishing with a smile on her face.

Susan grew a little too used to assuming Maeven’s feelings. It was fine at the beginning when she at least asked for her permission via a silent nod, but it was more often than not that she just took over and micromanaged the conversation.

“Well, now she just has to pay. Go on, now.”

“No, no, no. Please just stop. Please.”

It took a moment for Jim to process what just happened. He didn’t blame Susan’s daughter for looking at her the way she did, with such frustration and annoyance as she bounced her leg. The psychiatric evaluation in her file did say she suffered from anxiety. Hopper wouldn’t be surprised if this girl listed her mother as a stressor.

“Y’know, I’d actually prefer to speak with Margaret alone, if you wouldn’t minds, Mrs. Hargrove?”

The very thought of her mother leaving the room for a little while lowered the tenseness in Maeven’s shoulders and the air suddenly return to her lungs. She tried not to let it show too much, though. Her mother developed a tendency to notice the little changes whenever her mood fluctuated. No matter how infuriating Susan acted sometimes, the thought of hurting her feelings still broke the young girl’s heart to think about. It was both an impressive and scary hidden talent, like a lighthouse with a giant eye as the light.

“Maybe you should sketch that. It’d look cool,” the voice suggested. Maeven fought the urge to reach for her sketchbook. She could already see the picture in her mind’s eye.

Susan paused for a moment as she processed the Chief’s request.

“Oh. . .sure! Of course! No problem, I. . .” Susan stood up from the chair and placed her hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder. “I’ll just be waiting outside, okay?” she reassured, her eyes turning sad when she looked at her.

Maeven blinked away her idea for a moment to give her mom a half-smile. 

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine,” she replied, her hand squeezing, then brushing her hand off her shoulder. Susan nodded before walking to the door.

“And it’s Flo, by the way. Not ‘Flora,’” Hop made sure to mention before she had a chance to close the door on her way out.

“Yes. . .of course,” Susan stuttered as she closed the office door. The silence that filled the room after it slammed wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable for once. In fact, it was oddly freeing.

“Thanks. I, uh. . .thank you,” Maeven squeaked out as she fidgeted with her hands just itching to reach for her backpack.

“No problem, kid,” Hopper chuckled before continuing. “My wife was the same way with me and my daughter. She just worries.”

Maeven said nothing, but nodded in understanding, making eye contact with the Chief for about two seconds before turning back to her lap. Hopper could already see that his theory about her being misunderstood in her reports proved to be correct already.

“So, Margaret. Or do you go by ‘Maggie?’” he asked

“No one calls me that,” she said softly. “It’s Maeven.”

Hopper’s eyes darted back to her file just out of her sight.

“Oh, your middle name. Alright. Sorry,” he reassured. But, again, Maeven said nothing.

“Okay, then. Well, welcome to Hawkins, first of all. You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” she muttered, bouncing her right leg while swinging the left.

“It takes a little getting used to,” Jim mentioned, continuing his attempt to coax this girl out of her shell. He couldn’t help her if she didn’t talk to him.

“Mmm-hmm. . .” Maeven nodded.

The Chief exhaled loudly through his nose in contemplation, suddenly noticing that her eyes were darting back and forth between her fidgeting hands and her backpack. What did she have in there that was so important? According to her file, Maeven could be nervous about drugs in her bag. Her behavior was, after all, common for a druggie, but Hopper didn’t think that to be the case. Still, he treads lightly.

“I see you eyeing your bag, there. Do you need something?”

Maeven’s eyes darted back to him for longer, this time, her demeanor that of a cornered animal unsure how to react.

“Sorry. Do you mind if I draw?” she asked, shaking her head as if to bring her back to herself.

“Draw? Why?” he asked.

“It, uhm. . .it helps with my restlessness and keeps me focused,” Maeven fumbled to explain herself, almost defensive about her hobby. Hopper shrugged.

“If you promise to answer my questions, I got no problem,” he admitted. He really didn’t care, just a little confused.

She gave him a soft smile before immediately reaching for her bag and pulling out a black sketchbook and a small pouch of pencils, pens, and markers. Swiftly, she turned to a fresh page and pulled out a red colored pencil.

“. . .thank you,” she muttered before getting to work.

“So. . .I got a call from Captain Daly all the way out in San Diego, and he filled me in on your. . .recent situation,” Hopper explained, pausing every so often to observe Maeven’s movements as she sketched. The way her hands moved the pencil across the page was random, both erratic and calm with no clear order or pattern, but still had a sort of rhythm. 

“Apparently, you had quite a reputation with your school and the law back over in California?”

At the mention of her past, Maeven’s drawing hand came to a dead stop, as if her mind was somewhere else and had to adjust to his words in her own way.

“He knows, Maeven. He knows how insane you are. One toe out of line and he’ll have you sent to an asylum. And you know what’ll happen then, right? You’ll never be seen again.”

“. . .yeah, I guess so,” Maeven admitted, trying her best to swallow her obvious fear of Daly before going back to her sketch. She had finished the basic outline of the lighthouse from a bottom perspective, continuing to draw a giant, graphic eyeball in place of the searchlight.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too proud about it,” Jim observed.

“I’m not. I never was,” she defended, moving on from the iris to the veins. “I’m the complete opposite, actually.”

She brought the leg she was once swinging up to sit on the chair, almost melting into it. He chuckled softly. Now she was starting to act like a kid her age should.

“Do me a favor and keep your boots off my chair, Maeven.”

He wouldn’t have said anything if he knew that the girl would suddenly switch moods and sit the way a mother would nag her child to.

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, sir,” she apologized.

Hopper mentally scolded himself. She was just started to get comfortable with him and he had to go and ruin it with his big mouth and closed-minded understanding of manners.

“Have you dealt with a lot of law enforcement before, kid?”

“I. . .I don’t have any intention of causing any trouble, Officer, I promise.”

It was clear to him now that Maeven didn’t have an ideal relationship with cops. No doubt due to Captain Daly and his officers. Some of the reports of arrests in her file indicated that she fought(as any other kid would do in her situation) and the officers weren’t exactly.

“It sounds like Captain Daly gave you some hard times. I’m not gonna blame an officer for doing his job, handling your investigation.”

“I know. I don’t either. I know I wasn’t the. . .easiest person to handle,” she confessed, now sketching slowly, moving on to add the details of the lighthouse.

Her attitude toward the situation was delightfully humble, but just as depressing. It was always tragic to see someone so young also filled with so much pain. Jim turned back to her file and skimmed over a couple more pages that mentioned how she gradually started getting into more and more fights throughout the second semester of her failed Junior Year.

“It says here that you’ve had some. . .bad luck with others. And that you’ve dealt with behavioral issues. But you’re on medication now and have been managing your impulses.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded, not looking up from her page.

“That’s not something to be proud of, Maeven. You shouldn’t have to rely on pills to keep from hurting yourself and fucking everything with a heartbeat.” the voice scolded in her ear. 

“I don’t do that,” she argued against it, shaking her head free of those thoughts.

Hopper looked at her list of medications on her medical records, including the trials and tribulations of finding the right pills that worked for her. It couldn’t have felt too good to have to take that many pills so often.

“So. . .why don’t you tell me what happened, Maeven? Tell me about yourself,” he suggested as she relaxed her shoulders and continued to sketch. Jim didn’t want to pry. Even if it’d been a while since her incident and recovery process, she was still clearly fragile about it.

Maeven shrugged as she finished coloring the red roof of the lighthouse.

“What is there to know? You have my file. You know exactly what I am,” she pouted. It was strange to Jim that she could switch from being a mature young lady to a frustrated child so easily and quickly.

“No. I can’t really say I do,” he gently argued with her. After pausing to take a look at her sketch so far, Maeven shut her book, tapping and scratching her nails against the cover.

“Look, I know that I haven’t made a lot of good choices in the last few years. I know I’m pretty crazy, too. And I know that’s not an excuse and you have no reason to believe me, Sir, but I’m very sorry and I don’t wanna get in any kind of trouble again, and I-”

The longer she talked, the more discombobulated her movements became, and the more frantic and anxious Maeven appeared to Hopper. Her leg shakes as the tapping of her nails on her notebook turned more rapid. It became clearer to him that when Mr. Hargrove called in to say this girl was extremely fragile, he wasn’t kidding.

“Woah, okay. Just calm down, kid. Enough with the formalities,” Hopper held out his hands as he spoke as if trying to show an abused house pet that he meant no harm; the act made Maeven suddenly realized she needed to breathe in between sentences. 

“Stop calling me ‘sir,’ Maeven. ‘Makes me feel like a Grandpa,” he laughed, holding out his hand as he awaited a shake. “It’s Hopper. Jim Hopper. My friends call me ‘Hop.’”

“Okay, uhmm. . .Thank you, si-I mean Hop,” she tripped over her words as she accepted his offer for a friendly handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Miss Mayfield.”

It had been a while since Maeven interacted with an adult this way; just a casual, friendly interaction between two fellow adults. The chief’s handshake was firm with respect and emanated a familiar warmth. It reminded her of her Dad.

“Don’t worry. I won’t make too big a deal about this. I won’t let your troubles follow you into Hawkins if that’s what you want. But that also depends on you and your choices from here on out, you understand?”

“I do, yes,” Maeven smiled, feeling a small sense of pride that she thought died on New Year’s.

“Thought so. You seem like a smart kid. Took a look at your grades from Newport. Said you almost broke some record at their school for scoring so high on the SATs.”

“Yeah. . .it’s not that big of a deal,” she laughed, humbling herself again as she looked down at her tapping nails on her sketchbook.

“It is in Hawkins, kid. Trust me,” Hopper playfully argued. He wasn’t exactly wrong, either. Even back when he went to High School, a lot of his graduating class was made up of jackasses that didn’t know their ass from their elbow. The more academic ones ended up leaving Hawkins for better opportunities. Joyce could’ve been one of those people, too. But she was happy where she was. That was the kind of future he knew Maeven could reach. She was too good for this place.

 “Not a lot of our kids have that kind of potential. I’m sure you’re gonna be fine,” he finished.

Maeven wanted to accept his compliment, but the voice inside her wouldn’t let her. 

“He’s lying to you. He’s just trying to be nice,” it taunted, disguising it as a warning, she was sure.

“So, we both know what your file says. But I wanna hear it firsthand. You wanna tell me about what happened to you?”

Again, Maeven could only speculate what was in that manilla folder. She remembered a meeting with Captain Daly and her mother where he slammed her case file on the table of the interrogation room. She couldn’t bare to look at it. It was painful enough watching Susan read it through the gasps and sobs. She was sure that reading it herself would tear her very soul apart more than it already had been.

“He already knows. Stop buying pointless time and just get it over with. It’ll be easier.”

Chief Hopper wasn’t Captain Daly, though. He wasn’t like any of the other police she dealt with in the past. The ones who blamed her for her fate and tried to turn her into the villain. The ones who didn’t hesitate to draw their weapons on her when they found her bleeding and begging for help in the forest.

No. Hopper was different. Maeven knew he couldn’t fully comprehend what she went through. She lived through what most people would find unimaginable. But Hopper at least had more empathy and a sense of emotional intelligence than any cop she’d crossed paths with.

“Uhm. . .I’d rather not, if that’s okay? Not yet, at least.” she asked, hoping her instincts were right, switching from tapping her sketchbook to scratching the back of her hands

Hopper frowned at the sight. Maeven’s nails were so sharp that her hands were red and threatening to break out in blood.

“I get it,” Hopper said to her. “It’s the first meeting. You’re a little on edge. I have you back here next Sunday, right?”

At the sound of his voice, Maeven ceased her scratching.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded, letting out a sigh of relief at his understanding. Hopper returned her nod before handing her a slip of paper he had just signed; a weekly attendance sheet that she would eventually show to her mom and Neil so they’d know she was ‘improving.’ She would probably get another one from the school counselor tomorrow.

“Just focus on getting yourself adjusted to Hawkins for the next seven days and then we can talk about your. . .situation,” Jim told her, once again treading lightly.

“I can do that,” Maeven agreed, tucking the piece of paper beneath the cover of her sketchbook.

“Alright, kid. You’re dismissed,” the chief said with a small wave of his hand. “Besides, I’m sure your mom’s probably anxious not having you around,” he joked, sure of himself that he wasn’t overexaggerating.

Maeven slipped her book and pencils back into her backpack before zipping it shut, scrambling out of her seat as she walked towards the door and pulled the knob. Before exiting, she took one last look at the Chief, still glancing at her file.

“Officer Hopper?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I. . .I really appreciate it,” she stuttered out.

“Anytime, Maeven,” Jim smiled back at her. As he watched her leave his office, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the little girl who awaited his return at his cabin in the woods. El and Maeven would get along well.

. . .

A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter coming out. I had to split it up so it wouldn't be too long. That doesn't necessarily mean that I don't like writing chapters at a longer length, but 20-25 pages is my comfort zone. I usually start by just outlining a chapter with all the dialogue I want to include and build the actions and descriptions around that.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next one shouldn't take as long as this one did as I already have all the dialogue written out for it. I'm writing both chapters five and six at once. Please be sure to leave some kudos and comments, as they are my lifeblood and are incredibly helpful whenever I need inspiration. I'm glad that people seem to be resonating with Maeven. She's definitely the hardest I've worked on when it comes to all the characters I've created over the years.

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07/28/2023

Stranger Things

things to come by birthdaycandles

After the events of Season four, Steve struggles with opening up in the event of Eddie and Max’s hospitalization. Surprised me with how much the author did not focus on the romance portion and the dynamics between Steve and adults! Also was incredibly funny at points, which was a welcome brevity from it ripping my heart out.

The Fruity Four Beat 1983 To Death With A Nail Bat by TheKidReadingInTheCorner

Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie are sent back to 1983 and proceed to be hypercompetent. Featuring a very cute El, hilarity, and more Barb and Chrissy than I’ve seen in any time travel fic for this fandom yet!

don't imagine you're too familiar by asclepia

After the events of Season 4, Steve is way too focused on Eddie and Max’s recent hospitalization to worry about himself. Love how it portrays the relationship between Steve and adults!

Steve Harrington's Unwilling Time Loop Saga by badpancake

“A series following Steve Harrington as he unknowingly, unwillingly, loops time to save the ones he loves (and maybe realises that he can ask for help, is deserving of love, before, after, and during).” Heartfelt, beautiful writing and by far one of my favorite fics ever. First can be read as a stand-alone but I recommend the whole series.

Kitchen Witch by Carerra_os

Note: Restricted to only AO3 users.

Steve Harrington is pretty sure he doesn’t have magic. However, after an incident with one Billy Hargrove involving cookies and a love potion, people start questioning if Steve’s cooking is really as magic as Dustin keeps claiming it is. A soft and warm story, with a cute twist.

STEVE’S FIRST BRUISE by cairparavels

Spider-Man Steve AU with Steve and Eddie as roommates!! I love Spider-Man so I was super excited when I found this. That, and the “LUSH bath bombs, that’s actually a plot point” tags were too intriguing not to want more. Oh, and was there more. Poetic, long and glorious. To those that enjoyed, I’d recommend the song “I and Love and You” by the Avett Brothers, as it carried the same vibes as the fic.

FNAF

but when i wake up, i see, you with me. by kryswrites

Incredibly cathartic, heartrending fic about Michael Afton meeting his siblings in the afterlife after FNAF6.

Three times Charlie met Michael without him knowing, and the one time he did. by BuckyTheDragon

What it says on the tin. Charlie from the FNAF bookverse and Michael from the games (kind of) meet, and eventually talk. I especially adored the end note.

Slide Into Fun!!! by DeadPuppetBoi

Afton Children go to the Pizzaplex, but a nightmarish version. This particular oneshot focuses on their adventure with Sun and Moon, and oh boy is it horrifying. Not going to spoil it but if you liked the books, or even the horror aspect of FNAF, this is a good one to try! Don’t let the chapter count fool you though- It’s long, and it’ll leave a lasting impression.

You Won’t Die by PrinceJakeFireCake

In which Michael very literally cannot die. A hilarious series that covers everything from birth to the Pizzaplex’s happenstance. One of my personal favorites, and one I highly recommend.

William D’Afton: A Less Terrible Father (Than His Contemporaries) by PrinceJakeFireCake

A young William is visited by Gregory, who warns him about his ultimate fate in an effort to change his ways. Unfortunately, that plan goes awry when it’s revealed that this William has no clue about the child murder. Interesting and funny take on the ghost of future mistakes idea for FNAF!

Supernatural

Worthless!verse by glassedplanets

This is a popular fic in fandom so people who see this post will probably already know it, but. I’ll put it out there anyway. Dean works as a tattoo artist, Castiel is a linguistics teacher. They meet and fall in love- That’s the easiest and hardest part, all in one.

[newronantic]

BYLER FICS PART 2

usually i read tons of fics, make a masterlist, then maybe add a few more as the hyperfixation fades out. that clearly did not happen this time. i had 12 pages of ao3 history to sort through for this. enjoy part 2!

EVERY SINGLE WORK BY BYLIEVER

Byler are married with kids! There’s lots of flashbacks to them as kids, them dealing with trauma, and them being incredible parents. They have 12 works and i’m too lazy to tag all of them but i’m obsessed with every single one

Byler in College by orphan_account

An account of Mike and Will's first year of college, recounting their experiences, the changes in their lives, and how their relationship grows and develops over the year.

Shrike by StepfordSnarker

It's the late '80s, and Will is coping with the loneliness of having left the Party behind. Somehow, through it all, he still has feelings for his childhood best friend, Mike, though he's growing to regret that fact more with each passing day.

It's the early '90s, and Mike is coming to understand that there are some people worth losing your false sense of self for. But now that Mike and Will have parted ways, this realization may have come too late.

Mike Wheeler is Doing Just Fine by AtomosphericNonsense

Mike Wheeler is doing just fine. No. Really. He’s okay. He’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with him. Nothing to see here, just mind your own fucking business. 

(AKA: local stressed and queer teen has a mental breakdown, yells at a lake, and then has several more breakdowns.)

Where It All Makes Sense by jancies

It had been three years. Three years since Vecna. Three years since California. Three years since Will almost admitted his true feelings for Mike. He just wished there could’ve been a moment. A moment where it all made sense.

baby, we’re perfect by bookinit

Senior year in Hawkins. Will and Mike figure some things out.

you rearrange me ‘til i’m sane by miketozier (smallcuts)

Will has never had a girlfriend (or a boyfriend) before. There may or may not be one person behind the reason why.

anything, anything by inblue

Five years after the Byers family leaves Hawkins, Mike and Will rediscover each other within a small apartment in New York.

i’d make a deal with god by smoosnoom (moonsooms)

Will finally rips off the band-aid. Mike won't let him.

just a secret under lock and key until then by willow_lark

Mike Wheeler's birthday is tomorrow. December 20th. The day he, like all people on their sixteenth birthday, will swap places with and discover his soulmate. He and El have been planning the logistics for weeks, and it's kind of getting on Will's nerves.

Will, for one, really doesn't want to see Mike tomorrow, especially not when they haven't spoken in years and Will's still bitter about the breakdown of their friendship. He doesn't want to think about Mike Wheeler. Or his feelings for him. And, despite what he may want, he's pretty sure that he's not ever going to have a soulmate anyway.

That's four things that Will holds as firm convictions. Only one of them will actually end up true.

He doesn't actually need to see Mike Wheeler in order to have to deal with him.

real sweet but i wish you were sober by ew_spaghetti0310

3 times mike drunkenly tells will he loves him + one time he was sober

you are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by andiwriteordie

It's sophomore year of college, and Max's best friend, Mike Wheeler, has just met the guy of his dreams. The only problem? Mike's mystery crush just so happens to be dating the guy of Max's dreams.

Static Re-Connection by IllogicalFallacy

A miles-apart, oblivious mutual pining, emotional summer vacation disaster-fest starring Mike, Will, and one incredibly unreliable radio connection.

kiss it better by beansie

Mike and Will, through the years and in between the lines of friendship and something more.

What do you do now, Will the Wise? by RainbowNixie

The party is playing D&D together and Mike, as the dungeon master, won’t stop trying to make the Paladin and the Cleric flirt. He’s basically making moves on Will through the game. Will is caught off guard by this, and doesn’t know how to respond to the following question:

What do you do now, Will the Wise?

Everything comes down to a simple roll of dice.

the boyfriend problem by RomeoWrites

Ted Wheeler thinks Mike has been dating Will since they were twelve-years-old. And Mike doesn’t know quite what to do with that information. Until he does.

chiron in gemini by babydraygen

Christmas, 1986.

More than half the town of Hawkins evacuated when the first earthquake hit in the spring. For those that stayed, life is carrying on as normal. Or as close to normal as it can get. Sometimes lights flicker, you get used to it.

Then Max Mayfield wakes up from her eight month long coma and it's hard to pretend things are ever going to be the way they used to.

Roll for Strength by midnighteverlark

Mike has been acting weird lately - making excuses, being evasive, smiling to himself when he thinks no one is looking. And the hickeys are the nail in the coffin. Will knows Mike has a new girlfriend that he hasn't told anyone about, and he's determined to dig up clues about this secret lady-love. Not because he's jealous. Will has moved on from Mike - really. He refuses to spend his whole life pining over someone who's never going to want him. He just wants to find out about this mystery girl, to make sure she's right for Mike and she's treating him well.

But when Mike invites his lab partner from biology along to a party, Will is a tad distracted from his mission. Because Emmett is pretty clearly gay.

time after time by bookinit

The fact that Mike is single now isn’t relevant. It can’t be relevant. Another girl will come along, and it won’t be Will because he doesn’t have the right parts. Wasn’t born the right way, the way that Mike would have preferred. It’s fine, except for the fact that it’s not fine at all, except for the fact that it’s so not fine that Will’s life is in imminent danger due to how fucked up he is over it.

But boys don’t cry, according to The Cure, so Will won’t either. He’s trying to take it to heart.

who am i (to ask for more) by bookinit

Five times Will Byers came out, and the one time someone came out to him.

i don’t want you like a best friend by andiwriteordie

Five times Mike Wheeler tells someone else about the feelings he has for his best friend, plus one time he actually tells his best friend.

[thefanficmonster]

A Little Childish

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: Corpse and Y/N go to visit Y/N’s parents for New Year’s. Corpse was promised good food, good company and A LOT of snow. Needless to say, the place didn’t disappoint - quite the contrary actually, it exceeded any and all expectations he had.

Requested by @waterflowersposts Hi there! Sorry for how long it took for this fic to be written :( I hope the final result makes up for the long wait! I also thought it would be appropriate to post it during the holiday season, so I hope you don’t mind. Hope you enjoy the read and I’m looking forward to hearing your feedback and any more requests you may have. Stay safe! Happy Holidays! Love, Vy ❤

I watch as Corpse is basically floating from one room into another in our shared apartment as he’s throwing random articles of clothing in his open suitcase. I have already packed my bags, knowing full well what the appropriate attire is for where we’re going.

I look away from my laptop when Corpse comes in for maybe the sixtieth time today, this time carrying a white tee causing me to chuckle. “Corpse, I know it’s very trademark for you, but the only way you’ll be wearing that when we get there is under a sweater for some extra warmth. I’m not looking forward to having my boyfriend freeze in my parent’s house.”

He smiles, looking at the shirt in his hands, and shakes his head, “Fine, guess I’ll do without it for a week or two.” He throws it in our room, not even bothering to check where it’ll land before he comes to sit down next to me on the couch, “Keep in mind, you have set my expectations pretty high up there. If I am not waist deep in snow the second we step off the plane, I’ll be disappointed.”

I give him a side glance, a smirk playing on my lips. Must say, taking on challenges you know you’re gonna win is the ultimate high-and-mighty feeling. “Honey, you’ve got a big snowstorm coming.”

                                                               *  *  *

All throughout our trip - I’m talking the drive to the airport AND the flight over - I have kept my eyes glued to Corpse, observing as his eyes sparkled more and more with each foot we got closer to our destination. He has told me the most snow he has seen was less than an inch and I immediately felt it was my duty to change that by introducing him to the magic of Canada - my home. My parents own a getaway cottage in the mountains of Calgary where we used to go every holiday season. My earliest memory is playing in the thigh-deep snow with my older sister and crying whenever our parents had to drag us back inside. 

The West Coast of the US was a rather odd surrounding for me, having grown up surrounded by snowy mountains, experiencing Christmas with no snow whatsoever was a true let down and underwhelming feeling. Since Corpse and I started dating about a month after Christmas time last year this will be our first time spending the holidays together and Corpse was more than enthusiastic to visit Canada when I mentioned how much I enjoyed my winters there. We couldn’t go for Christmas, but we’ll be there for New Year’s Eve and the first two weeks of 2021 and I am really excited. I have been dying to see my family that has actually expanded since the last time I visited - my sister has had yet another baby, making her and her husband parents of three very energetic toddlers. The six year old twins - Ashley and Alex - and the three year old Andrew. Or, as I like to call them: The 3 As.

I have warned Corpse about them like seven times despite the fact that he’s already familiar with their energy, convincing him that if that’s more than he can handle we’ve still got time to cancel the trip. He didn’t bat an eye though, each time telling me not to worry and focus my attention on reliving the moments I’ve missed so greatly instead of making sure he was having a good time.

“If you’re there...“ he said, “I’ll sure as hell be having a good time.“

One step out of the airport and he’s already mesmerized. His eyes are shiny reflecting the glow of the snow all around. It’s gonna be funny to see his reaction when he witnesses the real deal - the snow in the mountains. This compared to that is a pathetic excuse.

“I know it’s not waist-high, but that’s because they shovel it and melt it.“ He is looking around, not paying much mind to my words. The utter amazement and disbelief on his face just makes me want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him. He’s simply adorable! I see fragments of the child in him swimming up to the surface in the form of temptation - temptation every kid feels when they see snow: Dive in and lose track of time. “Wait till we get to the cottage.“

This manages to catch his attention, “You weren’t kidding.“

I laugh at my precious kiddy boyfriend. “Whoa there, Corpsie. If your mind is already blown, I’m worried about how you’ll react to the real deal.“ 

I have a feeling I know exactly how he’ll react cause I react similarly - I set the child in me free. After all, no parent can tell you to stop playing and go inside when you are a 23-year-old.

                                                             *  *  *

Walking up to the cottage from the cable-car station has to be the first time I’ve breathed with my lungs’ full capacity in the last five years. The sharp cold air screams ‘home’ to me like nothing else ever did. I am still surprised as to how my sister prefers summer. My family jokes I’m a winter wolf in disguise and I think they’re right. I do like to roll around in the snow much like a wolf. No judgement! Having a few extra years added to my age doesn’t change everything.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.“ If I could take a shot every time Corpse has repeated this phrase I’d be dead due to liver failure. He is absolutely stunned. And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked at all. Who am I to talk - I haven’t either. These mountains keep getting prettier and prettier, I swear. Taking my eyes off them would be a crime.

“Told you. I wish we made a bet, I could’ve made some easy money.“ I tease him, gently bumping my elbow against his as we walk up the trail.

“I’m glad I didn’t propose such a thing. That would’ve been fucking stupid of me.“ Judging by the tone of his voice, he is not really present in this conversation, so I decide not to let it go on any longer.

Not that I could’ve done differently, seeing as how barely three seconds latter I see three smiling faces coming at me at max speed.

Oh boy.

“Auntie Y/N!“ Ashley and Alex arrive first of course, wrapping their arms tightly around my waist. Little Andrew stumbles his way to me as quickly as a three year old possibly could.

Without wasting a second, I put my bags down and crouch so I can hug them properly. “Hi my babies! I haven’t seen you in so long.” Their hugging strength surprises me and warms my heart at the same time. The twins pull away, leaving room for the little duckling in a jacket two times his size and weight. “Hi Andrew! I nice to meet you! I’m auntie Y/N. Mommy and daddy have told you about me, haven’t they? If not I’ll kick their asses.”

“Y/N, I swear, I’ll tell Amy you’re teaching her kids swears at a very early age.“ Corpse says teasingly, stealing the attention from all four of us.

“She curses like a sailor, these kids probably know more swear words than I do.“ Ash and Alex run straight out of my grasp and to Corpse, proceeding to hug him around the waist as they did with me. They met Corpse when my sister and her husband Finn visited me back in the summer. They immediately fell in love with him. I specifically remember Alex telling me I have a ‘really cool boyfriend‘ and he only uses the word ‘cool‘ when he really likes something or someone. Corpse was honorably declared cool by Alex and that still warms my heart till this day.

“Hi guys, long time no see!“ He too crouches down to hug the little demons that immediately cling to him like koalas.

I scoop up the bundle of clothes with a face and stand up, balancing him on my hip. “Let’s attempt to get inside, shall we?” With my unoccupied arm I grab the handle of my suitcase.

Corpse nods and follows my lead, picking up the bags he also left in the snow. Ash and Alex bolt it back to the house while we struggle to follow, lowkey embarrassed by the pace we’re walking with.

Andrew struggles against me, reaching out towards Corpse. I look at them both apologetically. “You’ll meet Corpse when we get inside, darling. Chill out.”

“Y/N!“ My sister’s voice steals my attention. She emerges from the house, followed by the twins, a huge smile on her face. Her eyes land on Andrew who has calmed down is now resting his head on my shoulder sleepily, “Oh I’m so sorry about them, Y/N. I didn’t know they would charge at you the second you stepped foot on the property.“

Amy motions for me to give her her son but I hand her my suitcase instead. When she takes it I use my now freed arm to hug her as tightly as I possibly can with one arm and while balancing a baby on my chest. “It’s ok! I couldn’t have dreamed of a better welcoming.” I release, giving her a big smile.

She loses interest in me and goes to hug Corpse, taking a bag from him as well before giving him a hug. “Oh my God, Corpse, it feels like it’s been forever. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Happy to see you too, Amy.“ My sister has never liked a single guy I’ve dated. EVER. Corpse is the only one she warmed up to and that’s a huge deal to me. Corpse’s happiness when I told him that was something I’d pay to have filmed just so I can watch it every time I’m feeling down.

“Let’s get you both inside, you must be freez-“ She cuts herself off, rolling her eyes at me, “Of course, you’re not.“

I laugh and blow her a kiss as we keep carrying onward.

“Um, guys?“ Corpse’s voice makes me pause and turn around. He’s still standing in the same spot, looking- unsettled, I guess you could call it.

“What’s wrong?“ I walk over to him, taking his hand in mine.

His hand automatically gives mine a reassuring squeeze, “Nothing really, it’s just that...I’m meeting your parents for the first time and-...What if they don’t like me?”

I open my mouth to go off and start stating the obvious that they indeed won’t like him. They will LOVE him. It’s impossible not to love this man! But my sister beats me to it when it comes to stating the facts.

“Look, Corpse, they already love you. Heck, sometimes I feel like they have known Finn and you longer than they have known Y/N and I! They speak so highly of you and haven’t even met you - that should tell you more than enough about how they see you.“ She waves her hand towards the cottage, “Now walk in there and blow them away.“

Honestly, I’m glad Amy beat me to it. I couldn’t have said it better myself. 

And just like that, hand in hand, Andrew still in my other arm, we walk in.

                                                             *  *  *

Corpse is officially the main attraction, stealing the spotlight from Amy, Finn and I - something the three of us are incredibly thankful for. Amy was right with every word she said - my parents are absolutely in love with Corpse. Luckily for Finn and Amy, the 3 As are all over him as well. Especially Andrew. The second someone sets him down he just waddles his way over to Corpse who picks him up and settles him in his lap while he answers my parents’ questions. 

When the kids were finally talked into taking a nap, Corpse and I snuck out to have a little walk in the snow and, of course, take some pictures. I made it my personal goal to make as many artsy and aesthetic photos of him as possible. His favorite - a hand only pic of him holding a snowball - was my idea and I think I have never felt prouder of myself.

“I am definitely posting this one.“ He says, turning the phone so I can see the screen. I give it a quick glance, thinking he’s talking about the hand pic but do a double take when I realize it’s a picture of me that he has taken without my knowledge.

I actually look rather decent, so I give him a green light in the form of a big thumbs up, “As long as you post the hand one too.”

“Hey, Y/N!“ We look back at the house which isn’t far from where we are right now. Amy is hugging the jacket tightly around herself as she approaches us with fast steps. “You know where we haven’t been in like forever?“

I raise an eyebrow and shake my head as I rack through my brain trying to dig up what she’s referring to. It could literally be any place on this mountain!

“Hello! The Waterless Lake? Ring any bells?“

Oh...it sure does.

Brief explanation: it is a huge circular dip in the ground which fills with water when the snow melts and becomes a lake but empties by the time winter comes back around. That being said, when the snow is still not melted, it’s an absolute wonderland to play in. I suddenly remember all the barrel-rolling Amy and I did there as kids and feel really nostalgic.

“Oh God, yes! I miss that place!“ I say, snapping out of my reminiscing trance. “Let’s go while it’s still light enough.”

“Finn is making dinner right now, or trying to at least.“ She rolls her eyes, turning to Corpse, “But it’d be our pleasure if you tagged along, Corpse.“

Corpse shakes his head, “I’ll politely decline. You ladies can reminisce and chat in peace, while I’ll be helping Finn in the kitchen.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips before excusing himself, “Have fun!”

“You too!“ We call back to him in unison.

Amy gives me an amazed, wide-eyed look, “He can cook?”

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, smirking, “Oh, you have no idea.”

She laughs, linking arms with me as we begin walking our way to the Waterless Lake. The place probably has a different name or no name at all, but we named it that as kids and never told our parents where it was. It’s our spot, and it is very surprising Amy offered Corpse to accompany us there.

“Sis, you are very lucky. I hope you know that.“ She tightens the hold on my arm with hers, pulling us closer together.

“I tell myself that every time I look at him, Aims. I am fully aware.“ I say dreamily, recalling all the times I’ve spent with Corpse. Almost one full year and I could never imagine that year, nor the upcoming ones, without him.

                                                                *  *  *

Upon returning, we’re met with the most wholesome scene I have ever seen - Corpse and Finn are making snowmen with the 3 As. It seems like they’ve been at it for a while, considering there is an army of snowmen of different designs, shapes and sizes all at different spots throughout the perimeter of the clearing in front of the house.

“Oh dear Lord.“ Amy mumbles, “I had a feeling this would happen.“

The five snowman-builders don’t even acknowledge our presence when we approach them. Ashley and Alex are running around with Finn, looking for sticks to use as the snowmen’s limbs while Corpse is helping Andrew gather as much snow as possible for the body.

I don’t realize there’s a huge smile on my face up until the point I’m trying to say something. Nothing comes out, though. My words are being muffled by all the overwhelming emotions that have taken over - collapsing my senses. 

With a roll of her eyes, my sister opens the front door, taking a step into the house. The second the door opens, however, I get a whiff of the delicious smell coming from inside. Best guess, and probably the right one - this is Corpse’s doing. 

If I wasn’t already hungry, I sure as hell am now and I’m in no mood to be in that delicious food’s proximity without attacking it. 

“Come on, guys! Dinner time! Get your butts inside!“ I call out to them from the doorway.

Corpse turns to look at me with the sneakiest smirk I have ever seen. He narrows his eyes at me, “You have done the very thing you despise!”

It takes me approximately three seconds to connect the dots and scrunch up my face, picking up all the snow I can an forming it in a snow ball, throwing it at Corpse. Growing up doing this exact thing has given me great aim, therefore I hit Corpse square in the chest.

“Oh you’re so in for it now.“ He laughs, picking up snow to form his own snowball.

“Snowball fight!“ Ashley yells, ditching the sticks to make a snowball for herself.

“Oh no...“ I poke my head in the hallway just as a snowball hits my upper arm, “Aims, I need your help!“ 

Before Amy can respond, I run to take cover behind the nearest snowman that, luckily for me happens to be one of the larger ones. I hear Amy call out my name when she exits the house, followed by a surprised yelp from her when three snowballs hit her. “You are all dead!”

While she is fighting blood and fire (well, water really), I am making ammunition for us both to use. I’m on my eleventh snowball when snow showers me from above as though it has fallen from a tree branch.

“Hiding, I see.“ I am still in shock, hair and upper body covered in snow, when I hear Corpse’s taunting voice.

My vengeance instinct kicks in having me grab two snowballs and turn to throw them at him. To my dismay, he’s faster then me and doesn’t allow me to even get my arm at an angle where I could throw properly. Instead, he turns me back around and picks me up with ease, one arm wrapped around my waist, another grabbing two of my prepared snowballs from the ground.

“Let’s show them who the bosses are.“ I see him wink at me from the corner of my eye and it takes me little to no time to catch onto what he’s insinuating.

In short, with joined forces, we took out the opposite team in no time - like a true couple 😉

[lee-scribbles-and-doodles]

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

[sukirichi]

suki’s restaurant is now CLOSED! please read updates after the “keep reading” tab!

thank you for the milestone! it’s really such a huge gift to me since i just started posting jjk content here ten days ago (◕ᴗ◕✿) as a small token of appreciation, all requests are now open and there’s a variety of ingredients you can choose from!

masterlist !

meal guides:

🥞 breakfast - fics longer than 1k word counts

🍙 lunch (headcanons)

🍷 wine (nsfw content)

🍰 snack (timestamps, imagines & drabbles)

🍌 thirsts (ramble with me about our smexy thoughts!) for the brainrots

PLEASE READ:

— this event is officially closed. my asks are only open for the previous anons who i’ve asked to do a redo for any mistakes/restrictions in their previous orders.

— new requests will no longer be accepted. or maybe it will because i’m easily swayed with great ideas but it will no longer be part of the milestone event.

— my writing schedule is only during wednesdays, fridays, and the weekends. some works will be written in advance and scheduled to post daily (if possible.)

— please be patient! as you can see, i’ve got a lot of requests, and i really want your meals to be as pleasing and delicious as possible, so please please be patient. i’m training for med school and i’ve got other responsibilities too. if you want to decline a request if you can’t wait for it, that’s fine. 

— i’m human so...my mind can change any minute, and i could no longer be interested in a certain idea. if that happens, i’ll reply to your ask that i won’t be serving your meal anymore even if it’s here on the list below. it sounds kind of rude, but i wouldn’t want to write something i’m not interested in for the sake of pleasing others, because if i write something i don’t enjoy/am not that interested in anymore, then the meal won’t turn out as good had i been passionate for it. it’s going to be done out of forced productivity and the food might taste bad :<

— the last batch of accepted meals will be marked as ✿

— favorites will be marked as ★. because they’re the ideas i find most interesting and the ones i adore the most, they will take longer to be completed. i really want to give my ultimate best on that and just UNLEASH everything i have in me.

how to order!

✦ choose from the ingredients below

✦ choose your own sugar and spice!

✦ choose from the meal guides above! please specify if you want your request to be

✦ send in your request by dropping it on my ask box!

✦ be as descriptive as you want in your request, i want to make a good meal for you!

✦ example of how to order: 

— breakfast: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 for gojo 

— alternative: 9+1+1+song (optional) + dialogue of choice (optional)

— alternative:  breakfast with wine: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for gojo

— optional: ingredient 9 + sugar 1 + spice 1 for toji + cookie “starboy by the weeknd” and “you wanna fuck me so bad”

ingredients : au (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ sugar daddy au

✦ arranged marriage au

✦ accidental pregnancy au

✦ high school au

✦ university au

✦ med! student au / doctor! au

✦ lawyer au

✦ detective au

✦ ceo au

✦ sugar mommy au

✦ neighbours au

✦ bed sharing au

✦ roommates au

✦ co-workers au

✦ body swap au

✦ soulmate au

✦ fake dating au 

✦ marriage for convenience au 

✦ bodyguard au

✦ assassin au

✦ married au 

✦ love triangle au

✦ mutual pining au

✦ unrequited love au

✦ meet drunk au

✦ meet cute au

✦ siblings’ friend au

✦ friend’s sibling au

✦ established relationship au

✦ breakup au

✦ barista au / coffee shop au

✦ teacher x student au

✦ royalty au

✦ rentboy au 

✦ camboy/camgirl au

✦ ex au

✦ mistaken identity

✦ fuck buddies au

✦ bartender au

✦ tattoo artist au

✦ apocalypse au

✦ playboy au

✦ stoner au

✦ love at first sight au

✦ hate sex au

✦ sleepover au

✦ worthy opponent au

✦ age gap au

✦ loss of virginity au

✦ gangster au

✦ mafia au

✦ bet au

✦ rebound au

✦ drunk hookup au 

✦ bad boy good girl au

✦ amnesia au

✦ reincarnation au

✦ one of them is famous 

✦ one of them doesn’t know the other exists

✦ one of them is oblivious 

✦ one of them is taken already 

✦ polar opposites au

✦ met at the subway au

✦ library au

✦ football player au

✦ canon au (jjk canon)

✦ send me your own au!

sugar: tropes (max of 2 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

✦ best friends to lovers

✦ enemies to lovers

✦ lovers to enemies

✦ strangers to lovers

✦ mutual pining 

✦ unrequited love

✦ forbidden relationship

✦ partners in crime

✦ slow burn

✦ send me your own trope!

spice: (for nsfw requests) (max of 3 picks!)

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— here are the kinks/sexual content i’m comfortable writing about. there’s still a lot of kinks idk about so if it’s not here, please feel free to include the spice in the ask!

✦ breeding kink

✦ size kink

✦ stockholm syndrome

✦ age play

✦ agoraphilia (public place kink)

✦ somnophilia (consensual sex where the other is asleep)

✦ breath play

✦ dumbification

✦ cum play

✦ begging kink

✦ praising kink

✦ thigh riding

✦ collaring

✦ face sitting

✦ 34+35

✦ dacryphilia

✦ disciplining

✦ dirty talking

✦ exhibitionism

✦ role playing

✦ gagging

✦ watersports

✦ send me your own kink!

cherry on top : characters

CROSSED OUT OPTIONS MEANS IT’S NO LONGER AVAILABLE

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, noritoshi kamo, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento, okkotsu yuta

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge

— characters i want to write for but don’t think i can write well (nsfw & sfw)

: suguru geto, naoya zenin

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro toji, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin

additional cookie!

✦ send me a song as a story inspo!

✦ send me your dialogue! (ex. “shut up and kiss me.”)

restaraunt rules : please read!

— i do not write about yandere, stalker, pregnant! reader (unless it’s still until the early age where the belly is still small), non-con, and heavily canon requests 

— nsfw content i won’t write about: period sex, blood play, temperature play, pegging, male characters dressing up as female, monster fucking (sorry, sukuna won’t be getting four arms if you want nsfw for him), bestiality, incest, hypnosis (non-con related)

— not exactly a restriction, but please keep in mind that y/n is still a character for me as the writer. i may or may not add in features that even though isn’t explicit, could be something not suitable for everyone. phrases like, “he peered down at her” sounds neutral enough, but could still be implied that the reader is shorter than the anime character. it’s difficult to write a 100% neutral fic that won’t imply appearance one way or another. if i’ve written anything offensive/upsetting, feel free to tell me about it. i’ll do my best to keep it neutral.

— the reader will always be female bodied in nsfw content

— please be patient! i want to write fics the requester enjoys so i’m going to take my time in preparing your meal!

— i may or may not cook your meal 100% according to your request. depending on my comfort upon the idea, i may have to tweak a detail or two.

— i can refuse your request if i don’t want to write about it for personal or other reasons. i’ll let you know beforehand.

— wine will take longer to be served!

— i will announce if a trope/au/character is no longer open for requests. i feel like some ingredients will be quite common amongst requesters and i don’t want to write for the same thing over and over again. same goes in the manner that if you have a similar request to another, it’ll be fused into one idea/meal.

— if your request contains offensive/uncomfortable content, i won’t even respond back to you. i’ll immediately delete your ask.

— if you still don’t get or are confused by the guides, send me an ask! i’ll happily guide you!

— this event is now closed. i will temporarily be closing my ask box so i don’t get flooded. i’ll open it again tonight for anyone who has questions or just want to drop a message!

hmm...i’m still not sure how to order for my meal.

✧ what if the story/scenario i want isn’t included in the choices above?

— as i’ve stated, please feel free to request whatever you want! the choices are there to give people an idea what they’d like to see, but if it’s not there, you can still request for it as stated in the “send me an au/trope/kink you want!”

✧ what if i don’t have any ingredient, spice, or sugar i want but a song inspo anyway?

— that’s also fine, but it would be preferred if you’re descriptive so your meal could be delivered better and faster. in this case though, i’ll just have to get creative!

✧ what if i want more than one character in the request?

— having others included in the request is fine, but as much as possible, i can only write a maximum of two main characters (the reader excluded)

✧ what if i want to request for the ones you want to write for but you don’t think you can pull it off well?

— just a heads up! i would love to write for them, but because i’m not entirely caught up in the manga, the characters mentioned above aren’t ones i know very well yet. 

✧ not exactly regarding the meal, but i’ve sent you requests from last week. would you still be writing them?

— i’ve received several requests when my bio states that requests are closed. however, because the ideas are actually really precious and i know i’d have fun writing them, i’d still write about them. i just cannot guarantee you’ll receive your meal soon since my requests were closed when you sent them. 

UPDATES:

Day One: breeding kink, size kink, thigh riding, married au, best friends to lovers is NO LONGER AVAILABLE.

Day Two: established relationship au, mutual pining, dumbification, and gojo satoru is NO LONGER AVAILABLE. to the asks that were received before this update, you may check on the requests accepted whether you made it to the cut or not. i’ll update this later. the restaurant will also reach out to you if one of your requested ingredients/spice/sugar/cherry on top did not make the cut. my asks are still open, so please tweak your requests a little bit to what is available! 

Day Two Update 2: Restaurant is CLOSED! spice 6 (somnophilia) is also no longer available! Check the requests accepted to see if you’ve made the cut, the latest and last accepted requests will be marked as ✿! 

requests accepted:

✦ fushiguro megumi

megumi really likes reader and gojo, yuuji, nobara helps him confess

shy megumi who is really flustered and shy around his crush  meals fused into one. read here: not shy

★🥞🍷 40 (tattoo artist au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 2,12,13 (size kink, praise kink, thigh riding) + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy read here: work of art

(★🥞🍷 5 (university au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 12, 3 (praise kink, stockholm syndrome) + virgin megumi) i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 1 (best friends to lovers)

🍷 + 27 (siblings’ friend au) + 1, 11, 19 (breeding kink, dumbification, dirty talking) + feral megumi (feral megumi supremacy) read here: unstoppable

🥞 + 3, 38 (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

★ vampire au + 55 (reincarnation au) + 6 (somnophilia) + vampire markings + blood drinking + nursing megumi...or him nursing you? hmm? (STRUGGLE PAANIK) read here: scarlet

✿ 🍰🍷 23, 38 (mutual pining au, fuck buddies au) might fuse it with request 7  MEAL ORDER 9 & 7 FUSED read here: happy little accidents

✦ nanami kento

jealous nanami with oblivious reader + gojo annoying nanami making nanami confess read here: a little push

comfort & angst fic where reader dates gojo but gojo cheats so she breaks down, leaves him, and nanami comforts reader  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 33 (royalty au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) read here: violet

🥞🍷 + 21 (married au) +  4 (strangers to lovers) + 2, 12 (size kink, praising kink) MEAL U

🥞🍷 + 23 (mutual pining au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) + 1 (breeding kink) read here: like crashing waves

ingredient 6 (med! student au / doctor! au)  + sugar 7 (forbidden relationship) + spices 12 (praising kink) + dacryphilia read here: overtime

✦ noritoshi kamo

fem!dom reader where nori defends his wife from the elders so she gives him the best night + blowjobs + overstimulation + sub! househusband nori + tit sucking spspss (MEAL UNAVAILABLE)

🍷 + 18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining)

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 1,13 (breeding kink, thigh riding) meals fused into one, breeding kink is no longer included | read here: i know

🥞🍷 + 20, 58 (assassin! reader, oblivious! noritoshi) + 13 (thigh riding) + love at first sight + “wait, are you flirting with me?” + “have been since the beginning, thanks for finally noticing.” (BIG BRAIN ENERGY) read here: illusion

✦ gojo satoru

serotonin boost for that lovely anon gojo simp 9487 (i’m going to make this special for you because i love you anon) i was thinking maybe gojo comforts his uni!student s/o? just fluff and some cutesy tootsy to relieve your stress! MEAL FUSED WITH SEVEN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” read here

🍷 + 44 (hate sex au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 12 (praising kink) read here: divine

🥞🍷  + 29 (established relationship au) + 5 (mutual pining) no longer included + 6 (somnophilia) + fused with other request that isn’t listed here read here: sweet angel

✿ 🥞🍷 + 29 (established relationship au) + 12,15 (praising kink, face sitting) + reader runs into awful ex and gets worshipped by gojo like they deserve (queen tingz) + gojo comfort read here: breathless

(✿ 🥞🍷 + 12 (bed sharing au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) + 19 (dirty talk) + magdalena bay : killshot + jujutsu tech goes on a trip, gojo and reader ends up sharing rooms and a twin bed)  i’ve been outlining this for days but idk...i just can’t seem to form something out of it. i still have it saved but idk if i can still finish, i’ll try my best though.   it’s just challenging to write, sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

★✿ 50,1 (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + spice 8,12 (dumbification, praising kink) wow butterfly anon POPPED OFF | read here: earned it

✿ 33 (royal au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 11 (praising kink) read here: fall from grace

✦ choso my MAN

Tokyo by Leat’eq + ice cream shop! au with limited cat themed ice cream, you need to wear cat ears to go order + “nyaa!” + flustered choso + “onii-chan” read here

★🥞 + 17, 34 (fake dating, rentboy au) + 2 (enemies to lovers) + optional wine read here: easy

soulmate au + forbidden relationship MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ inumaki toge

🥞 + 15 (body swap au) + 1 (best friends to lovers) read here: total opposites

🥞 + 10 (sugar mommy au) + 4 (strangers to lovers) BIG BRAIN ENERGY THIS ONE (STRUGGLE PAANIK)  it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :(

★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki...debating whether i should turn into wine HMMM read here: delicate

✦ naoya zenin 🙄

naoya putting reader back in their place, LONG SCHLONG CLUB read here: acquainted

✿ deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink (DAMN THIS ONE GOT ME TINGLING, its going to be consensual tho, we all have consent kink in this house) read here: true gift

✦ okkotsu yuta 

🍷 + 53 (bad boy good girl au) + 8,10 (dumbification) read here: good for you

★🥞🍷 + 65 (both are oblivious) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 6,9,16 (somnophilia, cum play, 34+35) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✿ 🥞🍷 58, 65 (one of them is oblivious, hanahaki disease on reader) + 5,9 (mutual pining, slow burn) + 12 (praising kink + cockwarming) + clumsy first time sex MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ itadori yuuji 

🥞 + 21 (married au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) (STRUGGLE PAANIK) it’s too difficult for me to write sorry :( MEAL UNAVAILABLE

✦ toji fushiguro

★✿ toxic toji YES + enemies to greater enemies + toji railing reader in front of someone they’re seeing because he doesn’t want to see you happy but he doesn’t want to “keep” you either (LOL this is so toji, might tweak a little bit) read here: personal disaster

age gap au + size kink, somnophilia read here: shhh

✦ ryoumen sukuna

🥞 + 2 (arranged marriage) + 2 (enemies to lovers) read here: black magic

55 (reincarnation au) + 7 (forbidden relationship) no longer included + unrequited love + home from war inspired read here: home from war: the ending

✿ 🍷 + 38 + master x servant + degrading, edging, begging (oooh degrading aint my kink but let’s see let’s see) MEAL UNAVAILABLE

[franeridart]

Anon said: Would you draw SukuFushi? (Sukuna x Fushiguro)

maybe? *thinking face* if I ever got an idea for it, why not. I find sukuna’s obsession with fushiguro entertaining so I don’t count fanarts for it as impossible haha

Anon said: I looked and I couldn't find if you've answered this already, so apologies if you did, but how do you draw your faces? I always struggle with face shape and yours are always super good with really expressive features! Anyway, thanks so much I love your art <3

HMMMMMMMM how do I do that indeed, the basics are honestly what you’d find on any basic tutorial about drawing a face (circle, cross in the middle of it, build the face around that - I really still can’t avoid that step and probably never will). As for the expressions, to be honest with you my way of going about them is thinking them up in emoji/kaomoji form first and then go from there. Emojis and kaomojis have to simplify expressions to the max since it’s such a simple format, right? But they’re still super expressive and convey exactly what they’re trying to say with one single glance, so using them as some kind of reference sheet has helped me a lot in figuring out what’s essential to express what I’m trying to say - still working on it though! I’m rarely satisfied with my expressions, they really do make or break a drawing don’t they............ you never stop learning, I guess!

Anon said:  Ahhhhhhh I just spent like hrs scrolling thru ur oc tag and they’re all amazing I love them so much but I keep confusing the everloving SHIT out of myself cuz I too have a child who is Leo and he’s literally so different from ur Leo lol. Anyway tho ur art is amazing and it honestly just makes me so happy so ty and hope have a good day!!

OHHHHHHHHHHHH MY LEO! It’d been forever since I’ve last drawn him, I kind of miss him............... glad you like my stuff, by the way! Especially about you liking my ocs, that means the world to me!

Anon said: hi there !!! i was wondering if i had ur permission to ur ur itafushi art in one of my edits ! i wanted to be sure before using it <3 total respect if its a no !! thankyouuuu

Sorry but I’d prefer if you didn’t do that!

Anon said:THERES A OCTOPATH TRAVELER LIGHT NOVEL AND ITS SO COOL BUT ITS ONLY IN JAPANEESE ! ;^;There's four stories with centered around pairs of characters and alfion is one of them !Idk if itll be transleted but i hope itll be cuz it sound awesome

OH I KNOW!!!!!!! I saw the art for the alfion one a while back, it looks so soft!!!! ;;;;; 8path is kinda niche as a game though, so who knows.............. let’s cross our fingers!!

Anon said:  hello, i am here to recc Skeletons by New Years Day because i think it might fit a few of your ships<3

Thanks anon now I’m emo ;;;;;

Anon said: bakubro gives the best hugs. kirishima is the only one who knows this. everyone is absolutely incredulous when the question "who gives the best hugs" goes around and kirishima answers bakugo. (bakugo thinks kirishima is the best but he benefits from kirishima bodily hugging him and he's biased)

Definitely!! He’s strong and warm after all, bet hugging him would feel the best.... the only one who shall ever know is kiri though, as I bet his hugs are only that nice when he really likes the person he’s hugging hahaha

Anon said: Hi! Just wanted to say that I absolutely love your JJK art! The colors and style are absolutely stunning.

Thank you so much!!!!!!! I feel like I’m mostly drawing for myself lately ngl hahaha so knowing you like it means a lot!!

Anon said: Hi!! This isn't a request I just really like your art! I found you from Pinterest on a kiribaku thing you drew! Your art is so cool! I wish I could draw like that!!! I'll keep looking for new art you've made :D

Aw pinterest.......................... glad you could find your way back here though!! And thank you!!

Anon said: This happened a while ago, but i wanted to say it anyway. I remember when I started watching jujutsu kaisen and I was looking for content arter finishing the first 10 episodes in less than a day and I found your first jujutsu kaisen post (it was posted that dame day) and i was like ???? One of my favorite artists got into jk at the same time than me!!! I just thought it was a neat coincedence to share! I really love your art too, you're amazing!! Happy New Year!!

It’s!!!!!!!!!!!! a pretty dang neat coincidence for me too, since it’s always nice to know at least some of my followers are still into the stuff I make hahahaha

Anon said: i think a lot abt ur art and how ive been seeing u since middle school and now im graduating highschool and we're still in the same fandoms, i hope this doesnt make u feel old but rather VERY cherished qwq

No anon this makes me feel amazing you’ve been around so long!!!!!!! I can’t believe you’re still here with my thank you so much for that!!!!!! I think I’m gonna cry a little here.......... ;;;

Anon said: Hi! I love your art so much!! 🥰 Have you read a KiriBaku fic called The Pit??

Probably not, haven’t been reading krbk fics in a while by now! I’ll add it to my for-later list, thank you so much for the rec!!

Anon said: can u believe that (sans sero) the entire bakusquad can be put into some form of punk/goth fashion? the realization was a galaxy brain moment for me. also realizing that tokoyami, kirishima, and tamaki are all varying levels of goth/emo (some more concerning than others)

Sero’s the hippie friend every punk friend group needs, he balances things out and that’s why he’s very cherished and necessary!!!!

Anon said: your bakugo drawings convinced me to finally start stretching my ears and tbh i'm extremely excited (i've had off and on thoughts of stretching my ears (again) before this so it's not as impulsive as it sounds haha)

Anon that’s so cool!!!!!!! I love gauges so much.....................glad I could give you the last push for it!!

Anon said: uhhhh, i love the style of that top left goge drawing dude!!

THANK YOU I LOVE DRAWING IN THAT STYLE THIS ASK MEANS THE UNIVERSE TO ME

Anon said: i sent the dragon!kiri and bakugo tug-of-waring over a piece of meat and honestly your response is exactly what i thought

Great minds!!!!!!! hahaha

[hoeforhops]

Us Fragile Things ― September, part two.

in which Valerie Martin and Billy Hargrove find each other for the first time in four years in a dive bar and realize the difference those four years can make.

an explicit Billy Hargrove x OFC fic. rating: explicit, 18+ word count: 9.9k cross posted to AO3. warnings: alcohol/tobacco use, strong language, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (female rec), fingering, vaginal sex.

SEPTEMBER 12th, 1989

The note Billy had left spent nearly two weeks in the drawer of Valerie’s nightstand, other than the few times she’d pulled it out to stare at it in the effort of working up the nerve to actually call him. She had his number memorized by the second time she pulled it out, and the brevity of the note itself was burned into her mind.

It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427.

She found herself repeating the note at random, hearing it in his voice like it was damn near haunting her.

Valerie told herself she was trying to focus on getting back into the routine of classes. On top of her usual coursework, she’d started her classroom observations, sitting in on classes at the local high school twice a week. She’d also taken up working a few shifts a week at the reception desk in the education department, trying to stash away whatever money she could. There was little time in her schedule for boys, she had decided.

That had never been her rule before, but Billy Hargrove had never been part of the equation. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him.

He kept creeping into her thoughts, far more than usual. And not just her thoughts, but her fantasies. Valerie had realized a couple of days after seeing him that it had become impossible to get herself off without recalling the memory of his fingers pumping into her, the way he’d praised her, and the weight of his body hovering over hers. He had made sure she couldn’t forget about him for the first several days, considering he’d left a slew of hickeys and marks along her chest.

It was a Tuesday evening and she’d just finished doing 60 pages worth of reading for one course, feeling like her brain was about to melt out of her ears. Charlotte was out with Amy, and when Valerie’s eyes landed on the phone across the room, Billy’s number started repeating itself in her mind.

923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she got to her feet and approached the phone. She picked it up and dialed his number quickly, proud of herself for even doing that much. With a white knuckle grip, she lifted the phone to her ear as it rang.

And it rang, and rang, and rang.

She hung up after letting it ring plenty of times, realizing he must not have an answering machine.

At least she’d tried.

SEPTEMBER 13th, 1989

Valerie had hoped that calling him once, even if she didn’t get an answer, would get it all out of her system, but it seemed to only make it worse.

Charlotte had been bugging her to call him since the minute she’d heard they slept together, adn Valerie had made the mistake of letting it slip that she finally had, which only lead to Charlotte telling her to try it again.

So she did.

It only rang a few times before Valerie heard a soft click, her heart jumping in that beat of silence.

“Hello?” A female voice. Max?

“Hi, uh, is Billy around?” she asked, clearing her throat and trying her best to relax.

“No, he’s at work.”

“Oh, okay.” A pause. “I’ll just call back.” Would she though?

“Is this Valerie?” she asked, and Valerie froze.

“Yeah,” Valerie responded with a slight laugh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Max, right?”

“Mhm. Billy said he ran into you,” Max told her. “I’ll probably take you up on the offer for some help with English comp.”

Valerie smiled to herself, glad that he’d mentioned that to Max. “Yeah, I’d be happy to help, just let me know.”

“Do you want me to let Billy know you called?”

“No, uh, don’t worry about it. I’ll just call back and try to catch him.”

“I think he’s off tomorrow night, maybe try then,” Max suggested, and Valerie nodded even though the girl on the phone couldn’t see her.

They said their goodbyes and she all but slammed the phone down, looking up to realize Charlotte was watching her with a wide grin.

“No luck this time either?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Valerie rolled her eyes, moving across the living room to drop onto the sofa. “I’m glad you think this is funny, at least,” she said, giving her roommate a pointed look.

Charlotte shrugged. “I guess I’m just not used to seeing you act like this over a boy,” she teased, still grinning either way.

Groaning, she sank further into the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “I know, I’m not either, and I don’t like it,” she grumbled, pulling one of the throw pillows into her lap. “I feel like I’m back in high school, vying for the attention of ‘King Billy.’” She made a face as she spoke, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah, but you’re not. You’re a cool, hot grown up who can buy your own alcohol,” Charlotte assured her, joining her on the sofa. “And from what you told me, he doesn’t sound like he’s the same person he was in high school either, so if you like him, or at least like his dick, it’s probably worth trying to call again.”

Valerie nodded, sucking on her teeth as she picked a piece of fuzz off the pillow in her lap. Charlotte was usually right about these kinds of things, something Valerie had learned in the last several years of living together.

SEPTEMBER 15th, 1989

Valerie didn’t call the next day, Thursday, like Max had suggested. She certainly hadn’t forgotten, but buried herself under a mountain of homework and reading to distract herself. His number had repeated itself in her mind for most of the evening, leaving her to steal glances at the phone from her spot at the table where her books and papers were spread out in front of her.

It was Friday though. Two weeks since the night at the bar whose name Valerie had never figured out. Charlotte was at Amy’s for the night, leaving Valerie to entertain herself. The thought of going back to that bar had crossed her mind, but she told herself she was content to get a chunk her weekend assignments out of the way.

By the time it was dark, she’d given up on reading for the night. With a glass of wine in her hand and the TV on, her eyes had started to drift toward the phone.

He probably wasn’t even home. It was a Friday night, after all. He was probably out drinking like he had been two weeks ago. Those thoughts were what actually made it easier for her to get off the couch and cross the room to the phone. Even if he wasn’t home, she could tell Charlotte that she had tried. She dialed quickly before she could stop herself.

923-0427.

The phone rang three times before the soft click of the line being picked up made Valerie jump, having felt so sure that no one would answer.

“Hello?” There was no mistaking that voice.

“H-hey. It’s Valerie,” she said, already chewing on the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t believe all it took was a single word from him to make her palms sweat and her heart race.

“Well, Val, it’s about damn time,” he told her, scoffing softly.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy trying to get into the routine of classes and stuff,” she told him, hoping to laugh it off.

“Uh huh,” he hummed, tone laced with disbelief. Valerie blinked, pausing for a moment. “You know, until Max told me you called the other day, I thought you’d forgotten all about me.” She could practically hear him smirking, knowing from the sound of his voice that he was already toying with her. Valerie suddenly wished she’d had more wine before calling him.

“Maybe I had,” she said, trying her best to sound cool.

Billy actually laughed. “I’m surprised you’re calling on a Friday night. Figured you’d be out prowling for another idiot you went to high school with to take home and rock their world before forgetting about them.”

Snorting softly, Valerie twirled the cord of the phone around her index finger. “It’s early, I’ve still got time,” she said, grinning to herself.

“C’mon now, don’t break my heart like that,” he told her with that charming inflection of his that made her willing to do cartwheels.

She paused, pressing her lips together. “Did I really ‘rock your world’? The sex was that good?” she questioned, curiosity getting the better of her. It had only been a few minutes of conversation, and he already had her wondering if it was all a game. God, she hated feeling like a giddy teenager, but at least he wasn’t there to watch her squirm over it.

“What, you didn’t think it was?” Billy responded, sounding mildly surprised by her question.

Valerie exhaled a breath of laughter, picking up the phone and bringing it with her to sit in the nearby arm chair. “I never said that. King Billy’s the one with the long list of five star reviews, just wasn’t sure where I’d rank amongst them,” she said, kicking her feet up on the coffee table to settle in more.

“Baby girl, you’ve got no fuckin’ clue how crazy you made me,” he said, tone low and dark to the point that Valerie held her breath.

She was silent for a moment, his words echoing in her mind before she cleared her throat. “What about you, huh? Why are you home on a Friday night to answer the phone?” she asked, toying with the phone cord again.

“I worked early this morning. I planned on having a quiet night at home until you called.” He sighed softly, teasingly like she’d ruined his whole evening.

“And I changed that?” Valerie was grinning to herself by then.

“Maybe.” His voice was warm and she could picture his smile, that genuine one that felt like a reward to see. “When can I see you again?”

The question surprised her for some reason and she blinked. “You busy tomorrow?” she asked, practically holding her breath as she waited for him to answer.

“Yeah, I’ve got an late shift tomorrow. I’m free Sunday night though.”

“Uhh, yeah, Sunday’s good for me,” she responded, clearing her throat as a fresh wave of nervousness swept over her.

“You wanna come to my place? Max will be out, we can watch a movie or something.” For a short second, he sounded unsure of the proposed plan. The thought of being alone with him made her mind flash back to the desperate sound of their breathing, the intoxicating feeling of his body pressing against hers, and her palms were sweating again.

“That sounds good,” Valerie said, licking her lips as she sunk into her chair a little more. “What time?”

“My shift goes until 5:30, so 7:00 maybe? I’ll make dinner for us.” Now that surprised her, making her eyebrows raise.

“I never really pictured Billy Hargrove as the culinary type,” she admitted, toying with the ends of her hair idly as she grinned.

“You can add that to the list of what’s ‘different’ about me now, I guess,” he said, and Valerie could hear his lighter click a second later.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Valerie licked her lips, picturing him in his apartment. She wondered what his place looked like, where he was right now, what he was doing. It all seemed like such a mystery. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Valerie rolled her eyes, letting out a quiet huff of breath that he must’ve heard. “Shoot.” The word was laced with a smirk again, she could just tell. She could hear him inhale, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Did you mean what you said when I was going down on you, about how you used to watch me in chem?” Her mind had drifted back to that statement of his so many times over the last couple of weeks.

Billy was silent for a moment before exhaling a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he told her, and she wished she could see him for that reaction. “That damn oral fixation of yours was so fucking distracting.”

Valerie’s eyebrows knit together, about to argue that she didn’t have an oral fixation until she realized that she had started chewing on her thumbnail after asking her last question. “Didn’t stop you from passing the class though,” she said, again trying to put on that cool tone that matched his despite the fact that her cheeks were flushing.

“That’s true, but let me tell you, I took some community college courses when I was living in California, including chemistry, and just hearing the word ‘stoichiometry’ was enough to get me hard. Fucking Pavlovian, or some shit,” he said, and Valerie grinned even as she felt the flush make it’s way down her neck.

“You should’ve said something, y’know,” she said after a pause, despite knowing full and well that she never would’ve believed him back then if he’d expressed interest in her. She likely would have laughed in his face in all honesty, the thought of it too absurd to even entertain.

“I would’ve ruined your fuckin’ life, V.” Billy chuckled, and she laughed with him because she knew he was absolutely right. She imagined him grinning, the one he used right as he trapped his prey, knowing when he had her caught. “Be grateful that you’re getting this version of me.”

“Who says I’m not?” she countered, leaning forward in her seat. Valerie was glad she’d thought ahead enough to bring the whole bottle of wine into the living room with her earlier, pouring another glass. A pause followed, and because the silence made her nervous, her mind circled back to another thought curiously. “Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop taking classes.”

“Oh,” he said softly, like he hadn’t expected such a question out of her. “D’you really wanna know?”

“I don’t ask questions I don’t want to know the answers to,” she told him, bringing the glass up to her mouth to take a drink.

Billy sighed softly. Hesitation seemed to hang between them, and Valerie honestly wasn’t sure what he’d say next. “It’s a long story, angel, I’ll tell you sometime, okay? Promise.” He sounded sincere in the avoidance, and Valerie bit her lip as she pocketed her curiosity.

“Okay,” she responded, nodding once to herself before swallowing the last bit of her wine. He was quiet for a beat and again, she was picturing him, wondering what his expression said.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, in that tone that left her hanging on his every word as he changed the subject.

“Shoot,” she responded, just as he head earlier.

“I regret not going down on you when I had the chance.” Billy said it all so casually, fitting it into the conversation with ease and Valerie couldn’t help the burst of laughter at the bluntness of his statement. Her cheeks felt hot and she told herself that it was from the wine.

“Is that at the top of your to do list for Sunday?” she asked, holding the phone with her shoulder as she leaned forward to put her empty glass on the coffee table.

“Oh, absolutely,” he hummed in response, making her suck in a breath through her teeth. “Might not even be able to wait until after dinner. I’ve barely been able to keep my mind off it. I didn’t pay nearly enough attention to your tits either.”

The thought made her feel warm all over, her blush returning with vengeance as she licked her lips. “Have you been thinking about me a lot?” she asked, settling back in her seat again as she put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table.

“Way too much, honestly. I haven’t been able to get those sweet sounds of yours out of my head, it’s been driving me fucking insane,” he admitted with a slight groan to the words as Valerie grinned to herself. “I didn’t expect you to be so bratty.”

“Want me to turn it down a notch next time?” Her voice carried a teasing tone to it, and she realized that she was pressing her thighs together as she anticipated his response.

The chuckle Billy let out rattled through her, renewing the heat that had flooded through her earlier. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Val,” he said with a hint of that deep chuckle and Valerie could’ve actually screamed. “You been thinking about me, huh? Slipping your hand into your panties late at night, playing with yourself while you think about how good I made you feel?”

“Christ, Billy,” Valerie muttered as if it wasn’t truth, feigning innocence. His scoff said he saw right through it. “Maybe I have been, so what?” There was no point in denying it, she decided.

A silence hung between them for a moment.

“Do we really need to wait until Sunday? I can be at your place in 10 minutes,” Billy said.

Now that was tempting. Valerie thought about it, biting her lip. It would be so easy to let him come over and rock her world again, to let him leave her absolutely desperate for more of him, but her nerves got the better of her. She let out a sigh and shook her head.

“Not tonight,” she told him, as if she wasn’t already ridiculously turned on.

“I had to at least try,” he said, tsking softly. “I’ve waited two weeks, I can wait another two days.” Valerie grinned, unable to stop herself considering he was just as fucking charming as he’d always been.

“It was a good effort,” she assured him, and they laughed together. She already regretted turning down the offer.

They chatted for a while longer, until Max got home and Billy said he needed to go. She got directions to his place before they said their goodbyes, and after hanging up the receiver, Valerie pushed a hand through her hair. Leaning back in her seat again, she scoffed to herself in disbelief that that conversation had happened. She was still flushed and slick between her thighs as she started to chew on her thumbnail.

Billy Hargrove still might ruin her life.

SEPTEMBER 17th, 1989

Valerie somehow made it to Sunday evening, though it hadn’t been easy. She’d spent a good chunk of her Saturday at the library on campus, but hadn’t been at all productive considering the fact that Billy was plaguing her thoughts. She could barely focus, her shoulders tense with anticipation as the minutes passed slowly.

She slept in on Sunday and finished up her readings before getting ready to go to Billy’s. The shower she took was long and relaxing, and she used the fancy body wash her aunt had sent for her birthday several months ago. Waiting for her hair to dry, Valerie put on some make up, then pulled on pretty underwear under the knee length skirt and v-neck sweater that she’d laid out.

It was a little after 7:00 when Valerie parked on the street outside what she hoped was Billy’s place. The street number matched at least, and she headed up the walkway toward the grey duplex with a bottle of wine in hand. Nervousness twisted in her stomach as she stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door to the left like he’d told her.

She didn’t have to wait long for him to open the door with that signature grin that made her knees weak. He invited her in, his eyes dropping quickly to glance her over before motioning for her to follow him.

Valerie hadn’t been sure to expect out of Billy’s place, and she looked around curiously as she followed him to the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of floral wall paper in the living room and smiled, before her attention focused more on him.

“Dinner should be ready in a few,” he told her, taking the bottle of wine from her. He was in a tight shirt and tighter jeans, nothing out of the usual, really, but it still astounded her that he always managed to look that good.

“What are we having?” she asked, leaning back against the edge of the counter as he sifted through a drawer before pulling out a corkscrew.

“Chicken with zucchini and risotto,” he said as Valerie enjoyed the way his shoulders moved when he opened the bottle of wine. She was impressed, both with the menu and how easily he pulled the cork out. “I don’t have wine glasses yet, so we’re stuck with regular cups.”

“That’s fine,” she assured him with a soft laugh, watching as he pulled a pair of cups from the cabinet. She thanked him softly when he handed her one of them a second later, her eyes meeting his as he poured wine for her.

“It’s good to see you,” Billy said, taking a sip from his own glass. His eyes were on her and Valerie could feel her cheeks flush as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s good to see you too,” she responded, batting her lashes before tilting her glass back for a drink.

It was odd to see this sincere part of Billy, both in tone and action, and pair it with the way he was looking at her, even having the audacity to lick his lips. Her free hand came back to grip the edge of the counter as silence hung around them. A timer went off, the abrupt sound cutting through the building tension, and Valerie was almost grateful for it, considering it curbed her urge to absolutely pounce on him.

Dinner was great, leaving her absolutely stunned by how good the food was. They chatted as they ate, easily finishing off the bottle of wine between the two of them. Talking to him was easy, Valerie realized, and they stayed seated at the small table with empty plates in front of them for a while before they rose to clean up.

Valerie was a little tipsy as she dried the dishes as he washed, and he kept glancing at her. She nudged him with her elbow eventually, passing it off as an accident as she reached to put the last of the plates in the cabinet. The dish towel she’d been using had barely left her hand before he had one hand on her waist, the other on her jaw to guide her mouth to his.

The kiss surprised her, leaving her to gasp softly into his mouth before relaxing against him. She was on fire immediately, kissing him back as he pressed her back into the edge of the counter. Billy was taking his time and his hand dropped to her hip as he hummed.

She looped an arm around his neck and let her teeth tug at his bottom lip, practically daring him to take things further. The way he’d watched her through dinner as he listened to her speak had been enough to turn her on somehow, and she was ready for her patience to be rewarded. His tongue flicked against hers teasingly, making her arch toward him just as his mouth left hers.

“D’you still wanna watch a movie?” he asked, a little breathless as his forehead rested on hers.

“Are you serious?” Valerie responded, laughing when she saw his smirk.

“Just wasn’t sure how attached you were to the idea.” Billy’s words were punctuated with a brief kiss, his hand moving to squeeze her ass. She moaned into his mouth and gripped the fabric of his shirt in her hand as she tried to press herself closer against him.

“I’m far more attached to the idea of you eating me out,” she admitted, the frankness of her words making his eyebrows raise slightly. She wasn’t sure if she’d surprised or impressed him, but she liked the reaction either way. His smirk returned almost immediately, nodding once before kissing her again.

The kiss was hungry, and it felt like his hands were everywhere, squeezing her hips and her ass as she pressed toward him. She used the hand twisted in the fabric of his shirt as a way to keep him close as he sucked at her bottom lip.

“Where’s your room?” she asked, her mouth barely leaving his. He hummed in response, both of his hands cupping her face briefly before finally pulling back. Valerie had expected him to step away from her and pull her through the apartment, but instead, he sank to his knees in front of her. “Jesus, Billy!” Her words were laced with laughter as his hands slid up the outside of her thighs, then higher still until they were under her skirt.

“What?” he questioned with a filthy smirk and a raised eyebrow as he nudged her thighs open further. “Just be grateful I made it through dinner without slipping under the table to do this.” His eyes were still on her face as he dragged his thumb over her folds through the damp fabric of her panties, watching the way her body reacted to the contact.

That was all it took to have Valerie tugging the material of her skirt higher until it was bunched up around her hips, and his eyes dropped to her newly exposed skin and panties. She heard him groan softly and then he was leaning forward more, his mouth already settling on the inside of her thigh.

“I like these,” Billy murmured, his voice rough as he glanced up at her again. His thumb repeated it’s previous action, pressing just right against her clit to make her squirm as she leaned back into the edge of the cabinet. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her thighs, and Valerie’s hands were already shaking.

Impatiently, he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her folds through her panties with a soft moan. His palms slid over the swell of her ass, then higher to start tugging her underwear down easily. As soon she was exposed to him, his mouth was on her, letting his tongue slide through her folds to collect the wetness that was already pooling there.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out, her thighs parting further for him instinctively after kicking her panties away. Her hand came down to the back of his head and her fingers threaded through his curls as his tongue teased at her entrance.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, squeezing her ass and pulling her hips even closer to him. Billy licked a firm stripe from her entrance to her clit before sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. She was practically panting by the time he pulled off with a soft pop , then he was exploring her folds with his tongue again, eyes lifting to look at her face.

He really could get used to this view, loving the flush that colored Valerie’s cheeks and the way her hair fell over her shoulder as her head tilted back. She tasted better than he ever could’ve imagined in the times that he’d gotten himself off in the last few weeks, thinking about having her just like this. His hand slid down her thigh slowly, guiding her to settle her leg on his shoulder as her hand tightened in his hair.

Valerie wouldn’t have been able to hold back the wanton moan that left her if she’d even bothered to try, breathing out a curse as he lapped at her folds hungrily. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she rocked toward him lazily, seeking out whatever extra friction she could find. She was so slick, a mix of her own wetness and his saliva, and if it didn’t all feel so good, she might be embarrassed by the constant slew of whines and moans that were leaving her. The sounds of his mouth working against her, sucking at her folds, were absolutely filthy, and when she felt his two fingers tease at her entrance, Valerie nodded with a soft plea, eager for whatever he would give her.

“Yeah?” he hummed into her, letting them sink into her just barely. “You want my fingers in your pussy while I suck your clit?” He barely pulled away to speak, his lips brushing over her before he licked around his fingers teasingly.

“Billy, please,” she breathed, finally tilting her head to glance down at him.

“You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he mused, glancing up at her with a quick smirk before he was opening his mouth against her. As always, heat rose up her neck in response to his dirty talk and she let out an impatient sound when he didn’t immediately give her what she wanted.

“I want you fingers inside me, please, I need more,” she managed to plead, her hips already pressing toward his hand desperately. Valerie’s fingers tightened in his hair enough that he hissed softly, and she saw darkness flash in his eyes when he looked up at her. He must’ve decided that was good enough considering his digits sank deep into her. Her head fell back as she cursed, her body already clenching around him.

Billy fingers fucked into her expertly, just as they had last time, curling against the spot inside her that made her gasp. He was watching her, looking up her body as he sucked her clit into his mouth, enjoying the way she rocked toward him. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she moaned for him again, and he scissored his fingers inside her to see what other sounds he could get from her. The motion didn’t disappoint, and when he slid his other hand up the outside of her thigh lightly, he could feel that her legs were shaking.

She was slick around him, that fact highlighted by the sound of his fingers pumping into her, her face flushing darker as her head fell back. Valerie couldn’t help but tug at his hair, still wanting him closer, and when he chuckled in response, the sound vibrated through her. She felt hot all over, her sweater clinging to her as her other hand gripped the edge of the countertop for support. Practically chanting his name, her hips rolled against his hand, already feeling the pressure building low in her stomach.

Just when she was towing that line of falling into her orgasm, Billy pulled back, and a frustrated sound left her at the loss of his mouth. When she looked down at him, he was smirking, his thumb already moving to rub firm circles against her clit. His mouth was slick with her wetness, the sight alone making her whine as his fingers continued to fuck into her.

“You gonna cum for me, angel?” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, nodding as she continued to rock into his hand. “Wanna cum for you, Billy.” Her voice was weak as she teetered on the edge and he hummed in approval, his mouth settling on her folds again.

Valerie’s nails sank into his scalp as she cried out, her head falling back when the pressure inside her exploded. She rocked desperately against Billy’s hand and his mouth, a slew of curses leaving her as she rested the majority of her weight on the cabinet behind her. Pleasure coursed through her as her body tensed, whining his name as he worked her through it. He watched her the whole time, loving the way her features twisted as she came for him.

When she finally came down, her shoulders sagged and she felt like she could barely keep her head up as her fingers carded through his hair. Still breathing heavily, she managed to open her eyes and glance down at him, her cheeks flushed. If his mouth wasn’t still on her, lapping lazily at her sensitive folds, he would’ve been smirking at her, and another shudder ran through her.

“Mmph, too much,” Valerie whined, feeling over-sensitive after another moment of enjoying the slow motion of his fingers still working into her. He pulled back when she pushed at his head gently, already licking his lips as he pulled his fingers from her.

Billy guided her leg off his shoulder, keeping his hand behind her knee for a moment to make sure she was steady. She watched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then sucked his fingers clean before getting to his feet again. As soon as he was at her level, her arm looped around his neck to pull him toward her.

Kissing him hungrily, Valerie hummed into his mouth, enjoying the taste of herself on his warm, plush lips. The hem of her skirt dropped to cover her, but her hips were already pressing toward his. She could feel the hard line of his cock straining against the fly of his jeans and she licked into his mouth, enjoying the sound he let out.

“Want me to take you to bed?” he asked, mouth barely leaving hers as his hands slipped under her sweater impatiently. Valerie’s mind was still buzzing as she nodded, glad to feel his hands moving over her skin finally. “D’you think you can walk?” The teasing tone to his voice was obvious as he pulled away, and Valerie rolled her eyes with a grin.

“I’m surprised you don’t want to fuck me right here,” she teased, already tilting her mouth up to kiss him again.

“Trust me, I do,” he responded with a chuckle, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass through the fabric of her skirt. “Max and I agreed not to have sex in the common areas.”

“Oh, but going down on me here was fine?” she countered, letting out a contented sound as Billy’s mouth moved over her jaw.

“Shh,” he hummed, holding his index finger up to his mouth to earn a laugh out of her as he pulled away. His hand slipped into hers and he nodded toward the hall.

Valerie glanced around curiously as they moved through his place, noticing the stack of textbooks on the coffee table, and the framed photo on an end table of Max with people she thought she recognized from Hawkins. The walk was short thankfully, and when Billy let go of her hand to turn on the lamp next to his bed, she took the chance to look around.

She’d always expected his room to be dark, maybe a little cluttered, with posters of half naked women on the walls, heavy curtains, and an unmade bed. Instead, the room was a pale yellow that glowed warm from the low light of the lamp. There wasn’t much furniture, just a dresser next to the open closet door, the end table that housed the lamp, and his bed, that was in fact made. It was tidier than her own room, Valerie realized as her eyes drifted back to Billy.

He had already sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back with his weight on his hands as he watched her. His legs were spread, and he lifted a hand, motioning for her to come toward him. Valerie grinned as she moved closer to him, acutely aware of how wet she still was as she realized her underwear were still on the kitchen floor. His eyes were glued to her, even as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the direction of the hamper across the room.

Valerie did the same, tugging her sweater off as she stood between his parted thighs. His head was tilted back to look up at her, and her hand moved to push his hair back gently, feeling him lean into the touch. She pushed at his shoulder and Billy took the hint, leaning back onto the mattress as she reached around her back to unfasten her bra.

He cursed under his breath, hands already moving to unbutton his jeans so he could push them down his hips as Valerie kicked her skirt away as well. Billy sat up enough to reach for her, all but pulling her down to him as she straddled his hips. She leaned over him with a hand on either side of his head, biting her lip as she rocked herself along the obvious bulge of his cock, his black underwear the only fabric between them. His hand slid up her bare back with a pleased sound, leaning up to kiss her hungrily.

A frantic energy seemed to fall over them then, with Valerie moaning into his mouth when his hand came up to cup her breast. His thumb dragged over the hardened peak of her nipple to make her whine, her back arching into his touch. He moved his other hand from her hip to between her thighs, letting his fingers slide through her folds like he couldn’t help himself. The touch made Valerie keen softly, and just as quickly as he’d touched her, he was lifting his hips to slip his underwear down and free his cock.

He was still leaning up to her slightly when his mouth moved to her throat, settling on her pulse point as she felt his dick throb against her thigh. Valerie felt like she was burning, unable to get enough air in her lungs as she rocked toward him with a heady sound. He was still teasing at her nipple, twisting and tugging at it lightly between his thumb and forefinger to make a visible shiver run through her.

“C’mon, V,” he murmured as she forced herself to sit up more, her hands pressing against his chest. “Ride my cock, angel, wanna feel you around me again.” And how on earth was she supposed to say no to a request like that?

She shifted over him again slightly, one hand slipping between them to guide him to her entrance, and she noticed the way his eyes dropped as well to watch as she sank down onto his length. They groaned in unison as Billy’s head dropped back onto the mattress, his hands settling on her hips where he couldn’t resist squeezing her supple flesh. Valerie was trembling slightly by the time he was fully sheathed inside her, her hips flush against his as she took a few deep breaths. His hands didn’t stay where they were for long, with one of them sliding back up to her breast when she slowly let her hips grind down toward his.

The sight of Billy Hargove sprawled out beneath her like that was something she knew she wouldn’t forget any time soon. His curles were already a mess from how rough she’d been with it when he was on his knees earlier, and his pupils were blown as he stared up at her. Valerie could practically see the restraint buzzing through him as her hips rose from his slightly before rocking down again. The motion earned a moan out of him, and the hand that had been on her hip moved to squeeze her ass.

Still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, each movement of her hips had Valerie sucking in short breaths and gasps as she settled into an easy rhythm of riding him. He felt bigger at his angle, and her nails scratched along his chest lightly as her jaw clenched.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Billy breathed appreciatively, his eyes dropping again to watch his dick sink into her. He was toying with her nipple still, palming at her breast with sounds of appreciation as he rocked up just slightly to meet the rock of her hips. “You look so fucking sexy like this, Val, holy shit.”

Panting, Valerie grinned and tried to focus more on keeping a steady rhythm versus speaking, unsure if she could ever string a sentence together by then. Eager to hear more praise from him, she started rocking down harder against his lap, enough that he groaned loudly for her. The slide was easy, given how soaked she was, and with each motion, his cock slid over her g-spot in a way that had her whimpering.

In need of more contact, Valerie leaned over him again, and Billy’s hand was quick to move from her breast to her jaw so he could guide her mouth to his. He licked into her mouth hungrily, still holding her jaw to keep her where he wanted her. The inside of her thighs were burning already, and her pussy tightened around him as she continued to ride him. She could feel Billy rolling his hips up into hers, and the way her clit pressed against his pelvis had her whimpering.

He swore loudly, and Valerie felt his arm wrap around around her waist tightly before he turned her onto her back. She was grateful for the change of position honestly, knowing that her rhythm had already grown sloppy as she got closer. His cock slipped out of her, and she made an annoyed whine. Billy chuckled softly with his knees planted between her thighs as he leaned over her. He was supporting himself with one hand on the mattress, the other between their bodies to just barely guide the head of his cock into her.

When he didn’t sink into her again, instead pulling back to slide through her folds, Valerie sucked in a breath through her teeth. Billy met her eye and he was smirking, loving the way her hips rocked in an attempt to guide him back inside her.

“You want it so bad, don’t you, sweetheart?” he mused, making her huff out a heavy breath.

The way she said his name was somewhere between a threat and a plea, her arm looping around his neck to pull him down to her. He was smirking when his mouth found his and didn’t bother teasing her further considering he was just as desperate for her as she seemed to be for him.

Billy pushed into her in one easy motion, dragging a high sound from her. His hand found the crook of her knee, guiding her leg over his hip as his hips snapped forward into hers. The firm thrust took her by surprise, making her groan as he built a rough pace.

Valerie’s hand slid along his back, her nails scratching over his skin as she tried to arch up toward him more. They were both breathing heavily and moaning as their mouths brushed together, lacking much finesse as they chased their highs. Billy’s mouth moved down her throat, nipping and sucking as he went, and the feeling of his teeth in her pulse point had Valerie moaning desperately beneath him.

“More, Billy,” she breathed, her nails sinking into his shoulder as his tongue traced her collarbone. He hummed in acknowledgement, his hips pounding into hers at just enough of a different angle that it made her body jolt up towards him. The head of his cock was hitting her g-spot with each thrust, making short gasps leave her as her eyes squeezed shut.

He was murmuring to her, filthy things that she could barely hear over the sounds of her breathing and her heartbeat racing in her ears. It spurred her on either way, digging her heel into his ass for leverage to try and get him deeper still. She could feel herself tightening around him as pressure built up inside her again, leaving her practically clinging to him.

“Think you can cum for me again, V?” he said, his tone gravelly and suggesting he already knew the answer. As she nodded frantically, trying to push her hips toward him for whatever friction she could find, he sucked her nipple into his mouth with a groan.

His hand had slipped between their bodies to find her clit with ease, rubbing firm circles against the swollen bundle of nerves as his thrusts got a little sloppy. She was absolutely drenched, and hot against his hand, and he cursed, leaning up to kiss her hungrily.

Valerie welcomed the kiss, though it was all teeth and moans as her arm tightened around his neck more to keep him there. With the way he was pounding into her, still toying with her clit, it was easy for her to fall over the edge, and she did so with a loud groan of his name.

Her head fell back against the mattress as her hips rocked without much direction, just needing whatever she could get from him as her orgasm tore through her. Billy’s mouth had settled on her throat again, his breath hot on her already flush skin as she came around his dick, She didn’t doubt that he’d have raised scratches along his back and shoulder from her nails, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right now.

Over the roaring of her ears, Valerie heard him curse loudly, and she made a sound of protest when he pulled out of her. Billy fucked into the space between their bodies, spilling hot onto her stomach with a deep grunt. Starting to come down from her high, Valerie’s eyes opened to see his brows knit together, face creased with pleasure as his head fell forward slightly let his nose nudge against hers.

They were both panting, and Valerie felt like she could absolutely sink into the mattress. When Billy started to untangle himself from her, she made a pouty sound that made him grin as he dropped onto the bed next to her. Settling on his side, he was still breathing heavily, pressing his face against her shoulder. Valerie draped an arm over her forehead when she remembered how to move again and she could feel that her body was slick with sweat, as was Billy’s next to her.

Her body was still buzzing when his hand slid along her jaw to turn her face towards him. She opened her eyes to see him already looking at her, his blue gaze soft and adding to the fact that the blood in her veins felt like lava. His thumb brushed over her lips, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as they stayed like that for awhile.

Billy was the first to move, exhaling a sigh as he pulled back and pushed himself into a sitting position. She noticed the way his eyes swept over her naked frame, lingering on the cum that he’d coated her stomach with, and she licked her lips as she rose her arms above her head to stretch out on the mattress.

“Stay put, okay?” he said, letting his knuckles brush over her knee lightly as he got to his feet. “Gonna grab a towel to clean you up.” Valerie nodded, not sure she would’ve been able to move much if she’d wanted to.

She watched him walk naked to his closet, turning her head to keep her eyes on him as he returned with a towel. It was dark outside already, the room still filled with the warm glow of the lamp on his end table.

“What time is it?” she asked, her eyes on his face as he wiped up the mess he’d left on her stomach.

“A little after 9,” he responded after glancing at his alarm clock. He tossed the towel aside and leaned over her again to press a short kiss to her mouth, which took her by surprise.

Valerie didn’t doubt that her cheeks were still flushed, and her head still felt a little hazy by the time he pulled back. She finally sat up, smoothing her hair down as she glanced at the pile of her clothes on the floor, deciding that getting dressed was too much effort for the time being.

Billy had pulled on a pair of briefs and grabbed a pack of cigarette and a lighter off his dresser. When he moved back to the bed again, he had a black t-shirt in hand that her offered to her. She thanked him softly as he sat on the edge of the mattress next to her, pulling the shirt on over her head. It was impossible to ignore the smell of his cologne and smoke that clung to the fabric that made warmth settle in her chest. He was close enough that his thigh was touching hers, his eyes lingering on her as he fished a cigarette out of the pack.

“You want one, or are you just going to steal hits from mine again?” he asked, his voice a gentle grumble as he brought it up to his mouth to light. Valerie grinned, licking her lips quickly as she watched the end of the cigarette burn red.

“If you gave me one, most of it would go to waste,” she responded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So really, it’s better that I just take a few drags from yours.” There was a matter of fact tone to her voice that made Billy scoff softly as he shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, taking a long hit from the cigarette before offering it to her. He sucked a breath in through his teeth as she took it from him, his eyes on her as she lifted it between her lips. “You gonna leave your number for me so I don’t have to wait another two weeks for you to call me again?” Smoke billowed from his mouth as he spoke, making him look like every bit of the sex god he was.

Valerie rolled her eyes, laughing softly before taking a drag from the cigarette. She was grateful that the smoke in her lungs gave her a moment to mull over a response. “I’ll think about it,” she told him finally, and it was his turn to roll his eyes, shaking his head as she grinned. She exhaled, then took another hit before passing it back to him.

They were sitting close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and her eyes moved over the lines of his chest and shoulders. Part of her wanted to lean into him, because she had decided that she liked the feeling of his body against hers, regardless of if his dick was involved or not.

Silence had settled over them, and Valerie’s eyes kept drifting back to his face. She had slept with him twice now, and was still struggling to believe that it wasn’t all some sort fever dream. Despite being unsure of what his game was, what he was after, right then didn’t seem like the best time to ask.

“You busy Thursday night?” Billy asked, leaning to tap the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray on his nightstand before offering it to her. Her fingers brushed over his as she took it from him, raising an eyebrow as she ran through her schedule in her mind.

“I don’t think so. Just got class until 2,” she responded, holding his gaze as she took a drag. “What’d you have in mind?”

He shrugged with one shoulder, running his tongue along his teeth. “Thought we could see a movie or something.”

Both of her eyebrows raised then as she took a final hit from the cigarette before passing it back to him to finish off. “D’you actually want to watch the movie, or is seeing a movie an excuse for you to finger me in public?” she questioned, the teasing tone obvious in her voice.

The question made him laugh loudly as he shook his head. “What kind of Don Juan do you think I am?” he asked, still grinning as Valerie mirrored the expression.

“Oh, was that rumor about you getting Lisa Kramer off during a football game completely false?”

Billy’s eyebrows knit together as he thought about it. “Probably not, but remember, Val, I’m a changed man,” he assured her in an exaggerated tone as if he hadn’t just eaten her out in his kitchen before fucking her into the mattress, and they laughed together again. “Okay, but really, which one was Lisa Kramer again?”

Valerie snorted, closing her eyes briefly as she tried to picture what the girl looked like. “Uhh, curly blonde hair, drove that car that was a really ugly shade of green,” she said, enjoying this relaxed, funny side of him.

Billy tsked softly. “Yeah, that rumor was entirely true,” he admitted, getting a burst of laughter out of Valerie. He was wearing that warm, genuine smile when she met his eye again, and it was one of those moments where it felt like time had frozen around them.

She had forgotten over the last several weeks that even talking to him felt good and natural, even if it was just them sitting there, still half naked and sharing a cigarette. The realization of how calm he seemed struck her, considering how anger had always seemed to vibrate from him before. Valerie still worried that she was wading into dangerous waters with him, but when he looked at her like that, the prospect of drowning didn’t sound so bad.

Valerie watched as Billy shifted to lean back against his headboard, and he watched her right back before he tilted his head toward the empty space next to him. She knew if she got more comfortable than she already was, she wouldn’t want to leave.

“You gonna sleep over?” he asked, seeming to sense her hesitation. Grinning apologetically, she shook her head.

“Not tonight,” she said, wishing she was giving him a different answer. “I’m observing at the local high school tomorrow, so I’ve got to be up by 6.”

“I’ve got an alarm clock,” he countered, head tilted to the side slightly. He had to at least try, and it actually made Valerie feel good to know that he wanted her to stay over enough that he was trying to convince her. The grin she gave him made it clear that he wouldn’t be able to talk her into it. “Do you have to be up that early every Monday?”

“Yeah. On Wednesdays, too,” Valerie told him, and his nose scrunched up at the thought of having to do that twice a week. His expression made her grin, and she finally got to her feet to gather her clothes from the floor.

“You takin’ off now?”

“I probably should.” Disappointment laced her tone as she stepped into her skirt, and Billy sucked his teeth with a nod. His eyes were on her as she removed the shirt he’d given her and tossed it onto the bed.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said as he watched her fasten her bra before she pulling her sweater on.

Valerie nodded as he got to his feet and stepped around her to approach his dresser. He grabbed a pair of sweats and stepped into them, and somehow the sight of the sweats sitting low on his hips had her contemplating sleeping over.

“You decided if you’re gonna leave me your number yet?” Billy asked, licking his lips as he moved closer to her. He picked up the shirt she’d left on the bed and pulled it on, and it was her turn for her eyes to linger.

Laughing, Valerie nodded. “Yeah, I guess I can do that,” she said with a wide smile, her hands coming up to his shoulders before wrapping her arms around his neck.

“There’s a pen and paper by the phone. You jot your number down, and I’ll grab your panties from the kitchen,” he told her, smiling as he leaned to just barely brush his lips over hers. She exhaled a breath, hating that that light kiss was all it took for her to want to start pulling her clothes off again already. Billy obviously knew what he was doing, considering the smirk on his face when he stepped away from her again and nodded toward the door.

She found the pen and paper where he’d said it wold be, and she wrote her number down with a V next to it. He was back from the kitchen by the time she was finished, dropping he previously discarded underwear into her hand with another knowing smirk. Valerie put a hand on his shoulder for support as she stepped into them and he chuckled softly.

“You’re lucky I didn’t try to keep them,” he teased as she righted herself, his body still close enough to hers that he could easily have wrapped himself around her if he had less restraint. She scoffed in response to his word, rolling her eyes before she stepped away from him.

He watched her walk to the front door to step into her shoes, and he followed a few steps behind her to do the same. Reaching around her, he opened the front door for her and let her step onto the porch first.

“So, Thursday?” Valerie said as they crossed the street to where she’d parked her car.

“Yeah, Thursday,” he responded with a nod, licking his lips as she turned around to face him. “I’ll call in the next couple days to hammer out the details.”

“Okay, sounds good.” She smiled warmly at him as she nodded back, her keys in hand as she hesitated, content to linger there with him for a few more moments.

“It’s not too late for you to come back inside and get back in bed,” Billy reminded her with an earnest grin, enjoying the laugh he got out of her.

“Next time,” she assured him, her hand coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Next time,” he repeated with a brief nod as she watched his eyes dropped to her mouth.

Valerie wasn’t sure which of them had moved first, just that his lips crashed into hers as his arm looped around her waist. His other hand was on her jaw, holding her in place there as he hummed into her mouth. She felt dizzy from it quickly, both of them hanging on to the last thread of their evening together. Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his as she took a breath, then pressed a soft, short kiss to his lips.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said quietly, laughing as she untangled herself from him. Billy pressed a kiss to her temple before he released her, taking a step back to give her room to open her car door.

“See you in a few days,” he told her, licking his lips again. She nodded with a smile, closing the door once she was in her seat. He exhaled a big breath as he started back toward the house, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

Valerie pulled away from the curb and exhaled a breath of her own, a contented, pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

****** post notes: And, we're back! Obviously, I don't know much how you all are feeling about the story so far, but I really like this chapter, and I really enjoy exploring the softer, more mature side of Billy. The next chapter is going to be more about his perspective and the things that have changed in his life between the end of season three (sans him dying, obvs) and when he found Valerie at the bar!

[ificanthaveu]

Last Name || Calum Hood

Description: The bold line you’ve drawn between what you do and who you work for gets blurred when Calum Hood comes into the picture. Old habits die hard. 

A/N: Ahhh!! My first Calum fic! My first non-Shawn fic! I had this idea circulating for a while and finally committed to writing it and am absolutely in love with how it turned out. I hope you all love it!! also big shoutout to @cal-puddies​ because i’ve been binge reading her Calum fics which have been making me feel some typa way and ended up writing this because of it

Word Count: 6.8 k

These events were prime real estate for you. 

You bounced around from group to group of people dressed like they were CEOs. Pantsuits and business dresses, polished dress shoes, and stilettos that could kill. Looks that could do the same. 

The American Music Awards after-party was one of the few times of the year where you could meet the bodies behind the artists. The people that got them places on time, scheduled their tours, and recorded their music. 

Your goal, as always, was to get just a few more of them to add you on LinkedIn and remember your name when a new opportunity came up that was in your wheelhouse. 

The divide in the party was clear. A direct line between the faces and the nobodies. The artists and the personnel. 

This was typical, but tonight, something felt off. 

You felt the eyes burning in your back from across the room. You weren’t used to stares from the other side, only getting looks of acknowledgment from people near you. 

But you ignored it, knowing your goal was more important than some stuck up artist who thought your ass looked great in those pants and wanted to take you home tonight. 

So you introduced yourself to Camila Cabello’s manager and prayed whoever this was would give up and find someone else. 

He asked you about your current project, and you gladly explained it to him in detail, still trying to shake the chills down your back. 

When he turned to say a quick hello to someone who walked by, you took the opportunity to scan the room to find the culprit, but he was back to your conversation just when you thought you met someone’s eyes. 

“Excuse me,” you heard someone say as he brushed past you, his hand grazing across your back as he made his way to the bar.\

You turned around to watch his back as he walked away. You knew who it was. But you turned back to your current conversation and prayed he’d still be at the bar once you were done here. 

Once you excused yourself after he got distracted, you took the opportunity to go after the man who was sending chills down your body. 

He could hear the steady, incessant clicking of your heels from a mile away, and the smirk on his face only grew as he knew his risky stunt worked. 

“Mr. Hood,” you said as you leaned against the bar and signaled for the bartender before turning towards him. You smiled the same smile that got you jobs and said, “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Ah, so you know me, but I’m afraid I don’t know you,” he said, looking at you as he took a sip of his drink. 

The bartender handed you a glass of white wine before you turned towards his lingering gaze. 

“I don’t expect you to,” you said before sitting on the stool. 

He followed suit and sat down as well. 

“I don’t expect those people to know me,” you said gesturing to the other side of the room. “However, I’d like to think a good chunk of these people do.”

You crossed one leg over the other, turning your stool to face him as he gave you a confused look. 

“That didn’t really answer my question.”

“You didn’t ask a question. You just stated you didn’t know who I was.”

“I guess so,” he said, your confidence only making him more intrigued. 

“I’m [Y/N],” you said, sticking your hand out like a business deal. 

He shook it, and you felt shocks shoot up your arm. 

“Great to meet you,” he said. 

“You as well.”

“So, how do you know me?” He pried. 

“Well, I’ve been a fan for a while, since before I ended up doing this,” you said, gesturing to the crowd. 

“Was I your favorite?” He asked, a smirk adorning his face again. 

You laughed before taking a sip, your reaction leaving him on the edge of his seat. 

“I’ve always been an Ashton girl,” you said, a small smile breaking through. 

“Ouch,” he said, his hand resting on his chest. “He does have a girlfriend.”

“Didn’t think I had a chance anyway,” you said through a laugh. 

“I may know another member though that might be interested,” he tested. 

“Hm,” you started. “I thought Luke also had a girlfriend?”

He shook his head at you, downing the rest of his drink. 

You glanced around the room quickly, noticing the signs of many of these people attempting to leave. 

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he said softly. 

“I know,” you said through a smirk. “Well, Mr. Hood, I should be going.”

“Can I get your number? And perhaps a last name?” He asked before you turned away. 

“You can get one of those things,” you said as you took the phone out of his outstretched hand, typing your number in, leaving just your first name as the contact. 

“Well, [Y/N], you’ll hear from Michael soon, he might be looking for a side chick,” Calum said, tucking his phone away. 

You let yourself laugh at that one, shaking your head before pushing yourself off the stool. 

“Perfect, he was always my second favorite.”

“Are you saying I’m in the bottom half?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

With that, you walked away, feeling his eyes burn on your back once again as you beelined it towards Kelsea Ballerini’s newest manager. 

It wasn’t even twelve hours later when a text from an unknown number popped up on your screen. 

Your roommate Tayshia grabbed it before you had a chance. 

“‘Can I take you out tonight?’ Who the hell is this?” She said, turning the screen towards you. 

You snatched it out of her hands and tucked it in your bag. 

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re doing this again,” she said, rubbing her forehead. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you called from the kitchen as you grabbed a granola bar and a protein shake before you had to go to your meeting. 

You looked up, and she was leaning against the doorframe, a knowing look on you face.

“Who is it this time?” She asked. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” you said through a sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking to the door. 

You opened it and leaned in once more, looking at her. 

“It’s Calum Hood,” you rushed out. 

“What? Are you joking?” She yelled. 

“I really wish I was,” you said, resting your head on the open door. 

“You’re blurring a very bold line here,” she reminded you. “This could destroy your career if you aren’t careful.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll last two dates max. You know me. I have things to do. See you later,” you rushed out before shutting the door. 

You pulled out your phone once in the elevator, staring at the text. 

Before you had a chance to respond another text popped up. 

This is Calum by the way. I assumed you’d know, but maybe you have other guys also trying to win your affection? I would never know since all I know is your first name. 

You shook your head and fought the smile as the elevator opened, and you tucked your phone away once again. 

You made it to your meeting with a minute to spare, taking out your things before typing a quick response to Calum, sending him your address. 

And now you have my address, pick me up at 7. 

— 

Your new floral dress flowed as you looked frantically around your apartment for your favorite heels. 

“Tay,” you yelled. “Where are my light blue heels?”

Her hand shot out of her room with the pair dangling from her hands. 

You grabbed them just as a knock came from the door. 

Tayshia peaked out of her room and looked at the door. 

“Your latest mistake awaits,” she said as she gestured dramatically to the door. 

“Save it,” you said before shutting her in her room. 

You opened the door to see Calum standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets. 

To say you took his breath away was an understatement. 

The dress you were wearing and the sparkling smile on your face were a stark contrast to the dark blue pantsuit and fake smile you had on the night before. 

“Come in,” you said before shutting the door behind him. 

You leaned against the fridge as you pulled your shoes on and grabbed your purse. 

“What’s the plan, Hood?” You asked as you looked at him. 

He shrugged, leaning against the island. 

“There’s a small open-air wine bar downtown that has live music tonight,” he said. “However, you can’t use it as a networking event.”

You rolled your eyes at him before following him out the door. 

“I only network at work events, and last night was a work event,” you reminded him. 

“And where do you work again?” He asked, leading you out to his car. 

“Not important,” you said, climbing into the front seat. 

He shut the door behind you, shaking his head in confusion. 

His hand found his way to the bottom of your back as you walked into the bar, leading you towards a standing table near the edge. 

You waited there, responding to frantic texts from Tayshia as Calum grabbed drinks. 

He set your wine in front of you, taking a sip of his own. 

“Didn’t see you as a wine guy?” You pointed out. 

“Well, this is a wine bar, so they have approximately two different beers. I also felt like they’d judge me if I ordered anything but wine,” he said.

“I believe it. We have a place like this back home, just a few blocks from my parents’ house, and I asked for a beer. If looks could kill…” you trailed off. 

“Where’s home?” He asked. 

“New York,” you said. “As in New York, New York, middle of the city, New York.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod of his head. “Had to clarify?” He questioned, a smirk appearing on his face again. 

You shrugged while taking a drink. 

“Some people say New York and mean some suburb four hours away. It’s not the same,” you explained. 

He didn’t have time to respond as the first band introduced themselves. He took this opportunity to join you on your side of the table with the excuse that he wanted to see better. 

His arm brushed against yours, and goosebumps rose instantly. 

This wasn’t supposed to be happening. 

You pushed that thought to the back of your head as you let yourself lean into him just enough for him to notice. 

He didn’t move from that spot for the rest of the night, even when the bands were done. 

Your hand grazed his arm along the table as you told him about your first college party. 

The look he gave you while you spoke, the complete intrigue and adoration in his eyes, would stick with you far longer than you were willing to admit. 

As it got darker outside and you started getting looks as the waitresses were trying to close up, Calum’s eyes met yours and gestured with his head to the door. 

You followed him out, this time with your hand tangled in his. 

“I’ll be honest, I don’t want tonight to end just yet,” he said as you walked to the car. 

“Looks like we can agree,” you replied. 

He squeezed your hand before dropping it as you both got into his car. 

“Where to?” You asked, leaning your elbow on the center council. 

He leaned back in his seat as he started the car. 

“I’m trying to not have this sound suggestive, but would you like to come back to my place?” He asked. 

By the soft look on his face, you knew he was being honest, so you nodded your head. 

You didn’t expect to fall asleep on his couch, limbs tangled together after talking all night. 

Your phone ringing snapped you out of your sleep, the arm around your waist weighing heavier than just the body weight. 

You glanced at the contact displayed across your screen and stood up quickly, hitting answer and stepping outside on his balcony. 

You paced back and forth as you spoke to your client on the other line, the sweatpants of Calum’s dragging along the cement. 

Calum woke up moments later, rubbing his eyes and glancing around. 

The panic left him as he saw you on the balcony. Your eyes met his through the glass, and you sent him a smile of reassurance and a mouthed “sorry.”

He waved you off before going to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. 

He heard your feet patter across the floor before you came through the doorway and joined him in the kitchen, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Sorry about that,” you apologized before grabbing the mug waiting for you. 

“Work?” He asked. 

You simply nodded your head, checking the time before shaking your head. 

“I have to meet with him earlier than expected, so I do have to get going,” you said as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

“Leaving so soon?” He asked with a puffed out lip. 

You took the opportunity to press a long kiss to his lips before pulling away and collecting your things. 

“I’ll take you home,” he said as he handed you your shoes. “When can I see you again?”

“Whenever you want to,” you said, pulling on your dress and slipping on your shoes. 

“Tonight?” he asked with a sleepy smile. 

You ignored the butterflies and nodded your head. 

“I have an event, but I should be done by 10:00. We can just hang out at my place if that’s ok?” You suggested. 

“Sounds perfect.”

He dropped you off in front of your apartment complex after a quick kiss and a promise to see him tonight. 

You leaned against your door after you shut it, closing your eyes for a moment and living in the post-date bliss. 

“What are you getting yourself in to?” You whispered to yourself. 

“I second that,” Tayshia said as she appeared out of nowhere. “Not very you to stay over on the first date.”

“I know,”  you said through a sigh. 

“[Y/N], what are you doing?” she asked for what felt like the millionth time. “You’re going to hurt the poor guy.”

“I’m not going to hurt him, maybe this one won’t be like the others,” you defended. 

“You can’t promise me that.”

You paused, leaning against the wall. 

“You’re right. I can’t.”

As promised, you saw Calum that night. And the next night. And the one after that. 

You ignored all of Tayshia’s warnings as well as the ones in the pit of your own stomach. 

The minutes ticked by quickly and with every moment you spent with him, you forgot about any responsibilities you had. 

Your meetings grew more often, your bags beginning to be packed, and flights and hotel rooms booked. 

You dodged every question he had about the ample amount of meetings you were in. 

You sat on your couch, alone with a glass of wine, staring at your suitcases hidden in the alcove by your front door, a plant and a prayer placed in front of them that he wouldn’t notice.

Before you thought too much, a knock sounded, and you greeted Calum with a kiss, tugging him in to join you on the couch. 

You spent the night entangled in his arms for the twelfth night straight. You ignored every call, text, and email as you tried to forget your obligations, instead losing yourself in the way Calum kissed the top of your head and whispered in your ear.  

With the excuse that you had an early morning meeting, you managed to get him out of your apartment without spending the night. 

You walked him out to his car, and when he kissed you goodbye, you kissed him a moment longer than usual, holding him a little tighter. 

“See you tomorrow?” He questioned as he got in. 

You swallowed hard and nodded your head.

“Tomorrow,” you said with a soft smile. 

You leaned in his car, pressing one more kiss to his lips before watching him pull away. 

You sat on the ledge outside your complex and begged your tears not to fall. 

You’ve done this before. You’ve done this many times before. You’ll get over it. 

Tayshia was waiting for you when you got back inside. 

“Did you tell him?” She asked, her arms crossed sternly across her chest. 

“I never do,” you said quietly. 

“I thought this one was different.”

“He is,” you choked out. “That’s what makes this so hard.”

Tayshia softened immediately and pulled you into a hug as you cried against her shoulder. 

“Whatever is meant to be, will be,” she reminded you. “Time and distance don’t really matter.”

And that’s what you kept repeating to yourself as you boarded your flight, ignoring Calum’s text asking you what time he could pick you up.

Calum checked his phone periodically throughout the day, expecting a response as quickly as you usually did. 

After spending some time in the studio, he had a rare moment alone. 

And he thought about you. 

He hadn’t felt this way about someone in forever, and he couldn’t think about you without smiling. 

He absolutely adored you. 

So when you didn’t respond all day, he brushed it off. You’d been busy lately, and he understood that. 

Granted he didn’t know why. 

Granted he knew almost everything about you except anything about your job or your last name. Which he thought was weird since those were the two things you told someone. 

But he brushed it off. 

As you watched the final rehearsal, you looked down at your phone to see a second text from Calum. 

It’s ok if tonight doesn’t work, I know you’ve been busy. Keep kicking ass, sweetheart. 

You took a deep breath, trying to forget about him as you focused on your task at hand. 

“You good?” Louis asked as he sat on the edge of the stage, taking a drink of water. 

You nodded your head, leaning against the stage next to him.

“Yeah, what about you? Feeling good about all of this?” You asked. 

“It’s perfect. You’ve outdone yourself again,” he said as he patted your shoulder before standing up and walking away. 

You released your breath and shook out your tense arms. 

You’d forget about him soon. 

Calum woke up the next morning alone for the first time in nearly two weeks. He checked his phone immediately with still no word from you. 

He clicked over to Instagram, scrolling mindlessly as you were the only thing he could think of. 

Which is why he was sure he imagined you in the picture he scrolled past. 

But he paused, scrolled back up, and looked again. 

It was a basic picture, a woman leaning against the stage and a man sitting on the edge talking to her. 

Except the woman was you. 

And the man was Louis Tomlinson. 

And the caption was “Tour starts tonight! Another perfect one put together by my amazing team, but especially this one right here, @yourusername.”

He stared at the post far longer than he probably should have, but still not long enough for everything to fully click. 

You just left on tour. 

You didn’t even say goodbye. 

He clicked over to your profile, learning your last name and your occupation within half a second. 

[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. Tour manager. 

His eyes wandered down farther to read your short and sweet bio. 

“Always on tour.”

It was that simple sentence that sent him over the edge, throwing his phone across the room and ignoring the cracking sound in favor of tugging at his hair and praying he didn’t see what he just did. Praying he didn’t actually see glimpses of pictures of you with artists on tour and that dazzling smile on your face that he thought only he knew. 

The next two weeks went by in a hazy blur as he spent most of his time in the studio trying to channel what he felt into something useful but with little luck.

He sat in the same spot, plucking the same three chords and thinking about you.

“Alright, what the hell is up with you?” Ashton snapped. 

Calum glanced up at him and sighed, setting his bass to the side. 

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, you’ve said five words in the past two weeks,” Ashton pointed out. 

“I was seeing someone,” he said softly.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Luke said, the confusion evident.

“I just felt really good about this one, and I didn’t wanna jinx it,” he mumbled as he ran his hands over his face.

“Clearly that didn’t work,” Michael chimed in. 

“Yeah, no shit,” he snapped.

“Who was she?” Ashton asked.

“Her name’s [Y/N],” he paused. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N].”

“That sounds familiar,” Luke said slowly.

“She’s Louis Tomlinson’s tour manager. Along with like a million other artists.”

They all went silent, well aware that Louis just left on tour a few weeks ago.

“Yeah, but you knew that was coming right?” Ashton tried to reason.

“No, I didn’t,” Calum snapped. “She never told me her last name. Never told me her occupation. Never told me where she worked. Never told me why she was really at the AMAs that night. And then she left. She just fucking left. Without telling me. Without saying goodbye. And I haven’t heard from her since.”

The room went silent again as no one knew what to say. Calum leaned forward and ran his hands over his face and sighed. 

Someone began a different conversation, back to the song they’d been working on as Calum continued to wallow. 

“Just go see her if you’re going to keep doing this,” Ashton snapped. “You can find out where she is with a Google search.”

Calum stayed silent and just stared at him. 

“Ok,” Calum said as he stood up and started grabbing his things. 

“You’re serious?” Luke said.

“Dead serious, see you guys soon,” he said before leaving. 

A quick Instagram search told him Louis had a show tonight in Denver, and he was on the first flight there, despite protests from every person who found out he was going. 

He stood outside the arena for longer than initially intended. He glanced at his phone to see that people would be let in in thirty minutes. He was able to pull some strings and get in before then. 

He went in through a back door and wandered into the empty arena. The general admission area was bustling with stagehands and security as they prepared. 

He stood near the back as he watched multiple people sprint around before he heard the obvious clicking of your heels.

You walked right past him, jogging towards someone in the booth with a tablet in your hand, talking quickly and pointing at different things. 

The soft version of you he fell for a few weeks ago seemed to be long gone in replace for the woman he met at the AMAs. 

You had a blazer on and skinny black pants that hugged you in all the right ways. Your black stilettos looked like they could kill him if you wanted to. 

The concert shirt underneath the blazer was different but expected. 

As he watched you interact with multiple people on your team with a stark smile and too much pointing, he felt himself hesitate. 

What was he even doing here?

You left. 

You left him without a goodbye. There could be a reason, but frankly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it, scared it would only hurt more. 

So he turned quickly and walked out the same way he came in. 

As you finished talking to the person in charge of one of the cameras, you heard the patter of feet walking away relatively quickly. 

You turned around to see someone with dark hair and hunched shoulders in the distance walking out, but you brushed it off to just be someone from the arena and went back to your task at hand. 

You’d been on tour for two weeks now and had everything down to a science. Everyone knew what they were doing and there were even rare moments where you just got to sit and watch for a song or two. 

You admired how passionate so many of the fans were as they belted out every word to every song without missing a beat. 

You stood backstage and waited for Louis to come running off. The same as every show, he gave you a big hug before high fiving everyone else near. You joined him in his dressing room as always to go over anything that went wrong. 

You sat on the chair in the corner of his room with some notes on your tablet, before you could say anything, he spoke up. 

“Do you know who I heard was here?” He said. 

You didn’t bother looking up at him as you said, “Who?”

“Calum Hood.”

You felt your heart drop to your feet as you looked up at him, knowing he knew nothing of what happened just weeks ago. 

“I’m just confused why he didn’t come to say hi or even stay for the show. Stacey said she saw him hang around for a little bit before the show and then suddenly just leave,” Louis said with a shrug. 

You wiped your hands over your face and took a deep breath, knowing you couldn’t keep avoiding this. 

But you were going to keep trying. 

So you swallowed hard before reading your notes. 

Calum was on the first flight back to LA, but he was in no hurry to see anyone. He sat in his car in the airport parking lot for a lot longer than necessary, occasionally resting his head on the steering wheel. 

He shouldn’t have gone in the first place, but now he was regretting why he left when you were just feet away from him. 

He found himself driving the familiar route to your apartment and banging on the door. 

Tayshia swung the door open and her eyes went wide at the person standing there. 

“Calum,” she said softly. “Uh, come in.”

He came inside, leaning against their kitchen counter with his head in his hands. 

“Why are you here?” She said carefully. 

“Why did she leave?” Calum snapped. 

Tayshia took a step back and went to sit on a stool against the island. 

“I went to see her,” he said as he looked up at her. 

Tayshia’s eyes went wide again before he continued. 

“I flew to fucking Denver. I was in the arena, and I saw her and I froze,” he paused to take a deep breath. “Because if she left without saying goodbye, then there must have been a reason, and I didn’t want to hear it.”

“Then why are you here?” Tayshia asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

She didn’t reply that time as she let him sit with his thoughts. 

He sat next to her on a stool and leaned his head in his hands as she rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“This isn’t the first time she’s done this,” Tayshia confessed. 

Calum’s head snapped up to look at her. 

“She gets really anxious before these tours. She drives herself absolutely insane. But if there’s a guy around who will hold her at the end of the day, it’s easier. But she knows it’s hard to maintain once she leaves, so she does it without saying goodbye,” she explained. “I’ve been begging her to stop, and she said she would go and see a fucking therapist for once…” she trailed off and met his eyes. 

“And then she met you.”

He felt stupid. He was just a game to you. 

“And she told me you were different,” she continued. “And she says that every time, but I think she meant it this time.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice sounding hoarse. 

“She cried,” Tayshia said simply. “In the four years I have lived with her, I have never seen her cry over a guy. But when she said goodbye to you that last night, she came inside and cried.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are different,” she said. “[Y/N] is going to try to forget you like she always does, but I know it won’t work with you. She was different when she was around you. She had a different walk. A different smile. A different glow. You weren’t just a pair of arms to her.”

Calum went silent as he tried to figure out how to handle this. He went back and forth between thinking he actually was different for you or if he was just another chess piece in your game. 

He stood up without saying anything else and walked out. 

Tayshia’s phone was ringing thirty seconds later. 

You waited patiently on the other end for her to answer as you stood right outside Louis’s dressing room. 

“Hey,” Tayshia said as she picked it up. 

“Cal was here,” you rushed out. “He left without saying anything to anyone.”

“Wow,” she said silently. 

“What the fuck do I do, Tay?” You asked frantically. 

“You have to figure this one out on your own,” she explained. “You clearly really have something with him, so call him.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, willing yourself not to cry over him again. “I’m on tour. I can’t just maintain something like this.”

“I think that boy would do anything for you,” Tayshia said. 

You nodded along, even if she couldn’t see. 

“Just talk to him. The worst he can say is no,” she said before hanging up.

You leaned against the wall behind you, hitting your head against it twice. You stared down at his contact in your phone, and your thumb almost pressed it. 

“Ready to go?” Louis said as he popped out of his room. 

“Yeah, let’s head out,” you said through a breath before tucking your phone away and trying to forget. 

You laid on your hotel bed and stared at the ceiling, the thoughts in your head running wild. Every few moments, you’d look at his contact on your phone or a picture you had snapped of him. You’d almost pressed the call button seventeen times, but every time, you didn’t do it. 

You didn’t want to hear his voice. You were so scared he hated you. 

You were terrified you’d just get sent to voicemail. 

So you just didn’t do it. 

For the next few weeks, you did everything in your power to forget about him. It had been just over a month since you left which was double the time you had been seeing him, but you were still thinking about him constantly. People started noticing, but you always brushed it off as stress. 

Tayshia visited one night, and you felt the weight fall from your shoulders as you could finally talk to someone about it. 

The two of you laid on the bed in your room and faced the ceiling. 

“Calum came to our apartment,” Tayshia said out of nowhere. 

You shot up and turned around to look at her. 

“When?”

“The same night he went to the show in Denver,” she said quietly. “He told me everything.”

You ran your hands over your face and tried to calm your breathing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you created this mess, and you need to get yourself out of it,” she snapped. “You’ve done this to so many guys, and I just let it go because I get it. I really do. But Calum is a really great guy who is head over heels for you, and you can’t get your head out of your ass to realize that.”

“What did he say?”

“That’s between me and him.”

You pulled your legs underneath you as Tayshia wrapped an arm around you, running her hand up and down your arm. 

“His tour started a week ago,” Tayshia said after a few moments. 

“I know,” you replied. 

“You always say that no one understands, but he does,” she said. “He lives the same life you do.”

“That’s why it would never work,” you choke out. 

“You don’t know that.”

You sniffled before pulling out your phone to look at their tour schedule. 

“They’re in Chicago,” you said. “Where the hell am I right now?”

“Minneapolis,” she reminded you. 

“I have the next two days off,” you said as you looked at her. “That’s a short flight.”

Her eyebrows shot up as she looked at you, waiting for you to say you were joking. 

“You’re just going to show up?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. 

The team had a quick meeting the next morning before everyone dispersed to head to the next city or spend the next two days back home. 

You hugged Tayshia tightly in the terminal before she left to go back to LA. 

You waited around as your flight got delayed three different times. You went between checking the current time to checking the concert time and verifying you had a badge to get in. 

You finally boarded the plane and stared anxiously out the window the entire time. 

Meanwhile, Calum went on like he always did. 

He was finally shaking the feeling of you, but you still lingered. 

Anytime he heard heels click he couldn’t help but hope he’d turn around and see you. 

But he was two weeks into this tour, and he was trying his hardest to not show how this was killing him. 

He ran out on stage, playing everything like he always would. 

He took a moment during a song near the middle to scan the outskirts of the crows like he always did. He found it funny watching the parents and boyfriends on the edges with their arms crossed and uninterested stares. 

And then he saw you. 

You had your arms crossed and your eyes locked with his. You had no expression on your face, hoping he didn’t actually notice you. 

He looked away before looking back and squinting, knowing it was you standing right there. 

You felt the familiar chills run down your spine before you tore your eyes away from his. 

They had started a new song, but Calum still wasn’t playing. A few concerned glanced and a head shake, and he was back to playing. 

He found himself glancing at you every few minutes just to reassure himself that you were there. 

His heart beat out of his chest and yours did too as the concert came to its end. 

You watched people clear out of the arena as you slowly made your way to get backstage. You flashed them your badge and walked down the hallway to find him. 

His back was turned to you as he drank a bottle of water. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

He turned around quickly, swallowing hard before sending you a sad smile. He glanced down at your feet, knowing he usually heard you coming from a mile away. 

But you were wearing sneakers. 

“Hey,” he choked out. 

He gestured to an empty room right next to him, and you walked in and sat on the arm of the couch in the corner as he stood on the opposite side, leaning against a wall. 

“Word got around,” you started. “I know you were there in Denver.”

He simply nodded his head, not meeting your eyes. 

“Tayshia tell you?”

“No, actually,” you said with a shrug. “She only told me yesterday that she knew. Someone in the crew recognized you. Louis told me.”

“Ah,” he said in acknowledgment. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” You asked. 

He sighed and finally looked at you. 

“Because you left without goodbye, and I knew there had to be a reason. I wasn’t sure anymore if I wanted to hear it,” he said with a slight nod of his head. 

“My reason kind of sucks,” you admitted. “But I have a feeling Tay told you.”

He nodded his head. 

“I just…” you trailed off, running your hands over your face. “These things are hard. I work for months to get it perfect and then I’m there for every show and something always goes wrong. I barely have time to call my parents.”

“I know,” Calum said. “I do the same fucking thing,” he said a little louder than intended. 

You ignored the snap in his voice and said, “I get so stressed, and it’s easier to just be with someone who doesn’t know about any of it for a little bit before I have to deal with it 24/7.”

“But I understand,” he reminded you. “I get what it’s like to leave everything behind for upwards of a year. And you know that. We’re in the same damn business, and I didn’t know that until Louis posted a picture of you.”

You stayed silent, staring at your feet. 

“Why are you here?” He asked. 

“You’re not just another guy to fill the space,” you admitted. “I thought you would be, but you’re not. And I shouldn’t have left without telling you what was going on and saying goodbye. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about for the past month.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, finally meeting your eyes. “And I hate it. I hate that you could up and leave and not say goodbye and that still all I do is think about you.”

“I regret it, Cal. I do,” you said as you stood up. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I haven’t had an actual relationship since high school because I’ve been so damn busy that nothing goes past two weeks. But I’m trying to fix that.” 

Your voice sounded hoarse as you waited for him to say something. 

“You cried the night before you left?”

“Like a baby,” you said through a forced laugh. 

He smiled back at you, the sad look on his face slowly dissipating. 

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing or how this works, but I don’t care,” you said, slowly making your way closer to him. “I don’t care if the only time we can talk is at 2:00 in the morning for five minutes or the only time we can see each other is in passing at an airport. Because I’m fucking crazy about you, and I don’t want to keep pretending I’m not.”

He reached out and grazed his fingertips along the side of your hand before hooking his fingers in between your own. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

He simply nodded his head, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your body molded against his as your arms wrapped around his middle. You could hear his heartbeat as you closed your eyes and rested your head on his chest. 

“I don’t have to fly back for another 36 hours,” you whispered. “That might be the longest we have for a while.”

He pulled away and rested his hand on your cheek, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

You stood on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck before he pecked your lips a few times. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered. 

And 36 hours later, after a day of watching Calum in his element, you were at the airport, wrapped tightly in his arms and ignoring the speaker telling you your flight started boarding. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Three weeks,” you said through a sigh. “That’s nothing.”

“You left me for over a month, so I think you can do it,” he said through a smile. 

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, tossing your backpack over your shoulder before pressing one last kiss to his lips. 

He watched your back as you walked quickly to security. He watched you pull off your pristine white sneakers and your denim jacket, throwing them in a bin with your phone. 

When you got through the final check, you turned around and locked eyes with him before blowing him a kiss. 

He caught it and returned it before watching you again as you disappeared around the corner. 

You didn’t cry. 

Instead, you texted the team that your flight was on time and told Tayshia that everything was perfect. 

You found your seat near the back of the plane and went to turn your phone on airplane mode until a notification popped up that made you smile in a way no one would really understand. 

[Instagram] New Follower: Calum Hood

--- 

Reblog! Reply! Like! Follow! Send me some love! Come talk to me about my fics! I love to talk!

(ok not tagging anyone on my taglist bc y’all signed up for shawn but if you wanna be tagged in future 5sos fics, shawn fics or both, please send me an ASK and specify which one!!)

[cosmiceverafter]

My @malexsanta Secret Santa gift for @gra-sonas 🎁🎄 I was thrilled to give you a Malex gift this year. You're one of my absolute favorites and such a dear friend. You wanted all the holiday cheer: Christmas ornaments, cookie recipe, market, and FLUFF! I hope this domestic fic truly delivers, brings joy to your holiday season, and fills your heart with warmth during the hiatus. I love you, hun! Xoxo.  ❤️️💚

(PS: there's a little surprise in this fic, just for you, inspired by you)

***

Christmas Cookies & Holiday Hearts 

"You know, this will be our first Christmas together. Officially." 

As Michael says the words, Alex glances over at him, and his heart skips a beat. How is it that his alien still manages to take his breath away after so much time? 

Alex smiles and gradually runs his fingertips up and down Michael's strong arm, feeling the smooth skin there. "You're right, even though I know you've tried to get me under a mistletoe for years." 

"I mean, yeah...." Michael beams. His tan shoulders shrug as he kisses Alex's chest softly, "You aren't wrong, babe. Who could deny those luscious lips?" 

Michael's fingers slowly trail up Alex's chest, which currently has imprints of his lover's glowing handprints left lovingly due to their intimacy with each other.

When he sees them, Alex knows with certainty that their love can move mountains and is capable of expanding through galaxies. 

As Alex feels the calluses of Michael's hands on his body and now his lips, he closes his eyes to embrace the effect it manages to bring. It's as if a spark of electricity courses through his veins and ignites his soul. That's the only way he can explain it. 

Nothing ever compares to this—what they have together in these silent moments. Alex will always cherish this peace with his loved one. 

After a moment of soft loving caresses, Michael's smile disappears. Alex knows he's traveling deeper into that intelligent mind of his, the way he always seems to do these days. "But here's the thing, I want it to be special, meaningful. Christmases were never something to be excited about for me, you know? Just another shitty day."

Alex holds his breath but nods. Unfortunately, he knows precisely what Michael means. Though different, the events of their past, parallel each other in many forms worth forgetting. Alex's upbringing was painful in its way. Still, Alex wishes Michael, his sweet, brilliant alien, could have been spared the misery. 

All Michael Guerin has ever wanted was a home, to feel like he belongs on this planet, and Alex wants to spend the rest of his life giving him precisely that. 

"So, you've never done anything memorable during the holiday season? Not once?"

Michael raises an eyebrow as if to announce come on, but then he suddenly laughs as a memory resurfaces, "Well...there was that one time Sanders and I attempted to bake Christmas cookies for his customers." 

Alex smirks as he imagines how that scene played out. A younger Michael Guerin, who was in-and-out of the foster system, and the older man with one good eye, baking in a small trailer. "And uh, how did that turn out?" Even though he can take a wild guess.

Michael shakes his head as his golden curls bounce and sway. He holds up his arm, "Badly, I have a battle scar from the process."

There is a slight white mark on the inside of Michael's arm, which looks a bit like a four-leaf clover. Alex has always wondered about it. "Damn, and here I thought that was a lucky birthmark."

"Darlin', the only good luck charm in my life is you. Never forget that." Alex feels his heart flutter in his chest at Michael's words, and Michael gently kisses Alex's forehead. But before Alex can return the sentiment, his love continues, "But yeah, Sanders' oven was old as hell at the time, and I guess no one taught me not to stick my whole damn arm right on the rack. Sanders felt awful about it. Poor guy." 

"Were the cookies at least good?"

There's a sparkle in Michael's eyes as he says, "You know what? They were. I need to find that damn recipe—it has to be somewhere. Then maybe I can take the old man one, even though you are the better baker." His fingers lace together with Alex's, and Alex gives him a loving squeeze. 

"You're right, I am," Alex smirks as he wiggles his eyebrows. "But I would be happy to help you. Sanders would seriously love that!" 

Alex looks down at their hands still together. He is so happy that Michael now spends so much time with Walt. It is not a boss-employee type of relationship, but more of a familial one. After everything they had both been through, this progression felt natural. And if he's honest, Alex loves seeing Michael finally opening up to others, the way he does with Alex. 

Michael nods and grins, "Done." His caramel eyes gaze at Alex, and he turns over to his side. "But I want new memories, too. Truthfully, besides the cookie disaster, I've never had anyone to share the holidays with."

Again, Alex knows all too deeply what he means, "I know the feeling, my love. I've always admired Christmas from a distance, and it seemed...well, always on the outside looking in." He squeezes Michael's hand tightly through the sheets once more, "I'm thankful to have you by my side. We're both on this journey together." 

"Baby, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share the memories with." Michael brings the back of Alex's hand to his lips, "Always and forever." 

****

The next day, Alex and Michael decide to go Christmas shopping for their friends, who were more like their found family at this point. 

Roswell had turned festive overnight, and it warms Alex's heart as if he were sitting by the crackling embers. 

Truthfully, he loves the magic that comes with Christmas: The twinkling lights aglow; the cheerful, upbeat, and often, repetitive music; the smiling faces of those who don't wait till the last minute to shop; the smell of cinnamon sugar baked goods; and the falling snow—when they were lucky enough to get some. 

For the first time, Roswell has even set up a Christmas Market like the ones you'd see in Europe. Alex's desert town has turned into a quaint storybook village.

Somebody has strung up multicolored lights between the small buildings, with brightly colored booths, side-by-side. There are reindeer attached to strings high up in the air, and a magnificent tall Christmas tree is sparkling within the town square. Above the tree is a halo of orange lights, symbolizing their golden desert sun. 

It brightens both their spirits to witness the magic created. As Alex and Michael walk around, they hear the soft holiday music surrounding them, which only rekindles their melody passion. 

They travel to each booth as they look for treasures to buy for their loved ones. Alex also keeps his eyes open for something unique he can get his Michael, but nothing quite captures his glance. 

"Look at this!" Michael calls in the distance. He's standing in front of a lovely booth with peppermint designs on the awning and dangling glimmering white lights.

Alex sees what Michael is holding—it's a beautiful guitar ornament. Painted on the guitar are swirls of green, blue, and black, sparkled with stars symbolizing the night sky. 

"Wow..." he says in response. "It's breathtaking."

Michael winks and bumps his shoulder lightly into Alex's, "Pretty cosmic, eh?"

"I'll say," Alex agrees as his grin widens. 

"It was clearly made for us," Michael acknowledges as he wraps a strong arm around Alex's waist, "I think it would be the perfect ornament for our first tree together." 

Alex kisses Michael softly on the lips, "I couldn't agree more, my love." 

****

"So, you have no idea what you're getting him?" 

Michael looks over at Isobel feeling exhausted, not at all how he felt when shopping with Alex, "Obviously not, that's why we're here, Iz." 

"Michael, Christmas is less than one week away, and we're sitting in some random store, shopping for the love of your life, and you don't have a clue about a special gift for him?" 

"Yup, that sounds about right."

Isobel shakes her lengthy blond hair back-and-forth. "Have I taught you nothing over the years?"

Michael groans, "Remind me again why I asked you to come with me?" 

His alien sis just shrugs, "Because I'm brilliant, and it's obvious you need me. I would even add the word 'desperately.'"  

"No...I don't recall that being the reason," Michael teases as he slings his arm lovingly over her shoulders. "You just love this stuff." 

"You're right, I do. It's the best holiday these humans celebrate!" They both laugh, but Isobel kisses his cheek, "Listen, deep down somewhere underneath that dirty white tee of yours, you've gotta have an inkling of what you want to get him." 

Well, if he had a clue, he would know it, wouldn't he? 

But then Michael freezes as he sees something across the store, "Um, wow...that was fast, but you're right, I do."

 Isobel pops a hip out, "Told you so." 

"Yeah, the only problem is I'm not sure how he'll react to it." 

Isobel smiles genuinely, "You know your man; you always have. Go with your instinct, Michael. I mean, word around this town is that they call you a genius or something." She gives him a look as she ruffles up his curls. "But pull away from that mind for once and go with that heart of yours. I, for one, know it's a pretty damn good one." 

Michael snickers but truthfully feels loved, "You could write a self-help book, you know that?"

She winks and bites her red-stained lip, "Who says I haven't already?"

"Give your brother a signed copy. He'll appreciate it." 

"As if," Isobel rolls her eyes, "You know Max wouldn't read it. That poor miserable fool who I love dearly." She pauses but adds, "So, Mr. Guerin, what'll it be? You going to listen to your heart?"

Michael narrows his eyes at the prize. Already knowing the answer to her question, he decides to let his heart follow the lead.  

****

"A little to the left, babe!" Michael calls out to Alex as they attempt to fit the oversized tree through the cabin door. "Darlin', my left." 

They spent the evening looking for the perfect tree, as it was their official first Christmas together. However, they ended up going with a taller sparse, and lopsided pine because, truthfully, life wasn't perfect, and neither were they. 

Life is what you make it, and Michael is confident they can make this tree as bright as his heart feels when he's around Alex.   

"There, perfect spot by the window," Alex smiles beautifully, pulling Michael back into the present moment as he nods in agreement. 

"I should've tried harder not to get it through the door, though. Those muscles of yours are worth staring at a bit longer." 

"Well, hold that thought, Guerin, because I'm hungry for food at the moment," Alex replies as he wraps his arms around Michael. "I'm thinking of soup; it's chilly tonight. Maybe it'll even snow." 

Michael runs his fingers on Alex's thick biceps, feeling hungry for something else, "I doubt it. The forecast didn't show it. And knowing our little city, we'll probably end up having a heatwave tomorrow." 

"Hey now," Alex remarks, looking deeply into Michael's eyes, "you never can know future outcomes." 

Michael smiles mischievously, "I dunno...I think your future looks pretty damn bright tonight, babe." 

"Is that a promise?" Alex asks, clearly flirting back. 

"Always, darlin'.'" 

They lean in to share a long lingering kiss, but before it turns too heated, Michael's belly moans in betrayal. Alex pulls back as he chuckles, "Raincheck for later, okay? I'm going to start dinner. Can you set up the tree so we can decorate afterward?"

Michael glares down at his stomach for the interruption but nods, "Absolutely." He moves his fingers, "I do know how to use these hands."

Alex grins in that sexy way of his as he walks into the kitchen, "Don't I know it." 

Michael loves this. He loves that he decided to take the leap of faith and move in with Alex. This cabin has become their oasis, his true home. And here with Alex, he feels like he finally has a place here on earth. 

Everything they had been through, even the pain, was worth it to get to this moment. Michael can't help but feel tears form in his eyes as he feels overwhelmed in gratitude. 

While Alex moves around in the kitchen, Michael cheats a bit to get the tree set up. His powers hover the pine in the air as Michael uses his hands to set up the tree stand. As he moves the small box of ornaments and lights over from the closet, Michael smiles as he hears Alex humming a new song as he cooks. 

Michael wants to live here in this domestic bliss forever.

Alex brings out his home-cooked meal, and damn, Michael thinks as he eats, his man knows how to cook. After they eat the delicious soup, Michael scrubs the plates as Alex makes them each a cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, just the way Michael likes it. When the kitchen is clean, they sip on the chocolatey warmth as they string lights and decorate their tree. 

"Here's our new one," Alex says as he holds their new cosmic ornament in his hand. 

"That's a special one that needs to go right in front," Michael replies, as he hangs it up, hand-in-hand with Alex. "There." 

Alex leans over and kisses his cheek, which warms Michael's heart. "It's perfect." 

"You're perfect," Michael states as he leans his head onto Alex's shoulder. Alex slides his arm around his waist. Their movements are continuously in sync, and they are always somehow touching. 

As Alex's fingers softly graze over the skin on his hip, Michael knows what kind of touch he desires right this moment, "Now, how about we curl up by the fire, and I show you just how talented my hands can be?" 

"Yes, I could use the reminder," Alex responds with a slow grin.

They quickly light the fire, then Alex gives Michael the look as he pulls him towards the couch. 

Being so helplessly caught up in each other, they miss the first few snowflakes that fall in Roswell. 

****

It's cold out, but worth the trip. Alex gives the nod towards Michael, who taps gently on Sanders' trailer door. 

Michael shifts uncomfortably, but Alex is proud of him for facing the emotions he knows his love feels inside. 

After Sanders admitted to trying to adopt Michael, it indeed did something to Michael's heart. He opened up more, and Alex knew that Michael slowly realized he was always wanted and truly loved where it counted. It did something to Sanders too. Alex could almost see the young boy Walt coming through when they spoke now. There was a twinkle in his eye, and he would share memories with a smile instead of sadness. 

They felt like a family. 

That's why they had talked before coming to the old man's house with the cookies. There is something big that Michael wants to do, but Alex knows he's scared. 

Alex is by his side the entire time. 

Sanders opens the door with a smile, "Oh, Michael! Alex! Welcome! I wasn't expecting you." He shakes his shirt with a look of embarrassment. 

"We wanted to surprise you!" Alex says with a grin. He shakes the old man's hand. 

Sanders pats the back of his hand lightly, "I'm glad you did. Please, come in, you two. It's actually cold out." 

Michael takes a big breath and follows Sanders inside. 

When inside, Michael hands him the cookies, "Merry early Christmas." 

"Oh! These look delicious," Sanders says admiringly. 

"I'm not sure if you remember, but these are the exact cookies we made that one Christmas together." 

Sanders looks up at Michael with surprise, "Truly? The... 'burn on the arm' year?"

Michael nods with a jokingly wince, "The very one."

Sanders blows out hard, "Well, it always pained me that you got burned on that damn old oven of mine, but I must say, those cookies were superb, weren't they?" 

"They were, burned and all." 

"And you baked these all by yourself? Uh, should I be scared?" Sanders teases with a nudge. 

"Nah, I had some guidance," Michael mentions as he casually puts his arm around Alex. 

Alex shrugs, "I barely helped at all. Michael here did an excellent job. I tried one, so I can promise you that you'll survive." He winks at Michael. 

"Oh, phew! That's a relief," Sanders chuckles. "Michael, where did you find the recipe?" 

"In the garage, it was in a wooden box on one of your shelves. The one that's slightly tilting. I remembered you putting it in there." Michael taps his head, "I'm pretty observant if you haven't already noticed."

Sanders sighs with a lopsided grin, "You get it from me, I think." He pops one in his mouth. "Wow, absolutely delicious." After he chews, he looks towards Michael with an expression of gratitude. "Well, thank you, son, this means a lot to me."

Alex knows what the word son does to Michael, its effect on him, and Michael shifts awkwardly. He looks over to Alex for reassurance, and Alex holds his hand, comforting him the best way he knows how.  

His strength, after all, is linked to Michael's. They go together in every way that matters. 

"That's not the only thing I brought for you," Michael whispers. He reaches into his back pocket and hands Sanders the envelope. 

"Oh, a Christmas card?"

"Um, well, not exactly," Michael replies as he squeezes Alex's hand tighter. 

Sanders puts on his reading glasses and switches the lights on brighter in the trailer. He opens the envelope and starts to read. The small smile on his face begins to fall, and he becomes nonplussed.

Alex acknowledges that Michael gets uncomfortable, maybe even nervous, but Alex knows that Sanders is touched. 

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Sanders looks up, and his eyes are full of tears. His voice comes out raspy and hoarse as he asks, "You sure? You want that?"

"More than anything," Michael responds, his voice also full of emotion. "If you'll have me, of course." 

"It would be an honor, son." Sanders sets the adoption papers onto his small wooden table and pulls Michael tightly in his arms. "You've always felt like mine, anyway." 

"I think my mom would be happy about this," Michael cries, letting the tears fall down his face. It's the most beautiful sight to witness, and Alex can't help but let go, too. 

Sanders nods and closes his eye as he holds his son, "You know, my boy, I think she would." 

****

A few days before Christmas, Alex and Michael decide to throw a little festive party at the cabin. They spent the morning stringing up lights outside, getting the drink station ready, and preparing their friend's gifts around the tree. 

It was perfect. 

Isobel is the first to arrive, of course, and she brings so many gifts, she can hardly get through the door, "Hello? A little help here, Michael?" 

"I'm coming. I'm coming!" 

Alex finishes up in the kitchen, and even though the feast smells delicious, Michael's man looks good enough to eat. 

Soon after Isobel has her martini in hand, the others follow suit. 

Liz and Kyle come together, hand-in-hand, and Michael prays it won't be awkward with Max. Gregory shows up, and Isobel immediately wraps her arms around him. Michael and Alex share a knowing smile, especially when she holds a mistletoe above his head. Then Maria and Mimi head inside with a few bottles of wine. With holes in the top, Rosa brings a large box inside, making Michael wonder what it is, but Arturo follows with a banana cream pie from the diner, and the rest is history. Sanders joins, of course, and Michael can't help but hug him longer than the rest. And finally, his boy Max. 

Luckily everyone gets along perfectly. The group has been through so much together that they make a toast for a fresh new beginning. 

Everyone at the party finally knows about the aliens being, well, aliens, and swore to protect them. The secret has bonded and united them in ways Michael never expected.

The group mingles as they sip their drinks, and Michael looks around the room at his friends and family, feeling lucky. He made a life for himself in Roswell, and as he looks towards the love of his existence, Michael knows it's time. 

He takes a moment to just stare at Alex, and suddenly he's beyond grateful he listened to his heart. 

Alex is the one for him. Michael now understands that this human was his reason for coming to this planet—they were written in the stars long ago, destined to be together. 

This is why Michael stands up bravely, walks towards Alex, and gets down on one knee. 

Michael opens the little black box he got in the store with Isobel and reveals a silvery gray tantalum band, one he knows will fit Alex perfectly. 

Isobel hushes everyone down and clasps her hands together as she sends Michael a wink from across the room. Max also gives Michael an encouraging nod, which provides him with the strength he needs at that moment. 

Michael stares up at the man he adores, and Alex's perfect mouth falls open. Taking his love's hand, Michael finally finds his voice, "Alex Manes, you are my whole world. When we were teens, you looked at me in music class and sparked something deep inside me; something I didn't quite understand, but it was there with me all along. And when we kissed for the first time, you woke me up to the life I had always dreamed of having. You are that dream, Alex. You are my family, and you've given me a place to call home. I have loved you from the beginning, and I'll love you to the very end." Michael takes a deep breath, "I would be the happiest alien on earth if you would yes. So please, darlin', will you marry me?" 

Alex gleams as tears fill those beautiful eyes, "We truly are linked...." 

"What...what do you mean?" Michael whispers, but Alex immediately joins him on the floor, kneeling in front of him. 

Alex pulls out an emerald velvet box and opens it. Inside is an engraved bronze band that matches the color of Michael's eyes. He holds his breath as the rest of the world fades away. "I mean, you beat me to it even though I've had this ring since we officially got together." Alex places his hand to Michael's face and strokes his cheek gently. "I was waiting for our first Christmas together because I wanted to give us both a happy memory to erase all the bad ones. The plan was going to ask Walt for his approval, which he wholeheartedly gave." They both look at Sanders, who nods with a loving grin. "And then I'd get down on one knee in front of all our loved ones and ask if you'd continue to create this life together with me, a true home." Then Alex holds Michael's hand again, "All I can say is that I love you more than I could ever begin to put into words, and I'm asking you if you'd do me the honor in marrying me?"

Michael doesn't realize he's crying until he feels the drops land on his outstretched hand. "Oh my God, Alex...." 

"Is that a yes?"

Michael laughs softly as he strokes the back of Alex's hand gently, "I believe I asked you first, darlin'." 

Alex nods with a breathtaking smile, tears flickering those beautiful dark eyes, "Of course I will. A hundred times, yes!" He leans in closer to Michael, "And you?"

"That would be a hell yes, baby!" He hears a whoop from one of his friends in the background, but then Michael gets serious. "It's always been a yes for me." Michael cups Alex's face, "You're my human, Alex Manes." 

"That's Alex Sanders if you don't mind."

Michael looks over at his adoptive father again, who's now wiping his eyes and positively glowing. Michael kisses Alex's lips, "I don't mind a bit." 

As they finish their first engaged kiss, their friends cheer, cry, and hug them both tightly, then Isobel giggles, "Is now a good time to give you two our gift?" 

"Go for it, Scooby Squad," Michael exclaims as he takes Alex's hand in his own, never wanting to let go. 

Isobel looks to the room they had closed, "Okay, Rosa, bring her out!" 

Michael and Alex exchange a look. Bring who out?

And before Michael can overthink it, Rosa comes out holding a beagle puppy. "It's a rescue. The shelter I volunteer at found her abandoned on the side of the road." 

"We thought it would be perfect for you two, plus, remember that dinner we had a couple of weeks ago?" Isobel says as she looks towards Alex. "You practically said you were going to start looking for one. I remember you saying, 'the cabin is much too quiet, I think we need to get a dog.'"

Alex laughs and takes the small puppy into his arms, "I don't recall those were my exact words, but it doesn't matter; she's perfect."

"Lost without a family," Michael says, petting the puppy's long ears, "sounds like the two of us all right."

"You mean a found family!" Liz calls out. "Just like all of us."

Alex looks at Michael and nods. Michael smiles back, "We love her. Thank you, everyone!"

"I knew this pup would be a part of your future," Mimi exclaims, and Michael watches Alex wink at her. "She's a gentle soul. I'm happy she'll have you two." 

"Best dog daddies ever," Maria smiles happily. Everyone in the room has what seems to be permanent heart-eyes. "We will miss her, though! She's been staying with us." 

"Well, you know you all are welcome here anytime!" Alex says. 

"What will you name her?" Gregory asks as Isobel leans back into his arms. 

"How about Kyletta?" Michael laughs as he looks towards Kyle. "Kyletta Barklenti." 

"Real funny, alien boy," Kyle responds, as he rolls his eyes looking reasonably amused. He looks over at the food, "How about Bagel? You seemed to be pretty obsessed with those today, Guerin. I mean, how many did you actually eat?" 

"I was hungry!" Michael retorts, "You didn't bring nearly enough to share." 

"Okay, okay," Alex intervenes as he shakes his head. Michael enjoys ruffling Kyle's feathers, but Michael doesn't mind the guy beneath his human annoyances. He's a good friend to Alex, making him a good man in Michael's book. 

"So, what are you going to name her then?" Max asks from across the room.

"Yeah, I mean, you don't actually have to name her after a food," Kyle teases. 

"No," Michael grins, "you know what, Doc? I like it. Bagel. It has that—" 

"Bagel! Yes, call her Bagel. I love it!" Isobel interrupts. 

"Not again..." Michael groans quietly. Isobel + anything bagel = interruptions, which is a no-go, especially when it comes to Alex. 

After they finalize the name, everyone gushes over the puppy and their rings. They eat, share stories, and finish opening gifts. 

The day is perfect in every way. Even on the Hallmark channel, they don't make them better than this.

Michael holds Bagel in his arm and takes a break from the crowd. He sits on the couch in the living room, and the puppy folds up into his lap, falling asleep as Michael rubs her ears. 

After a moment or two, someone strokes his shoulder lightly, and he looks up to see his fiancé's beautiful face. Michael feels immensely grateful, not for the first time this holiday season.

Alex scoots in close and whispers in Michael's ear, "So, my love, would you say this Christmas is worth remembering?" 

Michael pulls Alex in his arms, "Yes, darlin'. I've never been happier in my life." He takes Alex's hand with the ring and kisses it. "Our family is already growing."

"It sure is," Alex says, putting his forehead against Michael's as he strokes Bagel's soft fur. 

They sit there for a while, just the three of them, with the comforting hum of loved ones surrounding them. 

"Wow...Look, Michael." Michael looks out the window to see it snowing.  The snowflakes fall to the ground in a swirling dance. It reminds Michael of their life together, new and old memories, coming together in a story of love. 

Michael feels complete peace in his heart as Alex says, "Merry Christmas, my love."

It was merry, and their future, well, Michael knows it will be very bright as long as they always have each other. 

"I love you," Michael answers. 

Alex's reply is the kiss they share and would continue sharing for the rest of their days. 

[dastardlydandelion]

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

��Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Nightmare In A Dream (Part 2)

Summary: Six months after reuniting with the Winchesters and her brother, things are going good for the reader. She and Dean are happily together and occasionally stay with her brother, Matty, and Sam, who has been getting him used to normal life. Life appears to be heading in a good direction when the past has a way of creeping up again and dropping a bombshell on them all...

Pairing: Serial Killer!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Square: AU!Dean

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: mature (language, angst, death/murder, drugging/kidnapping, family drama)

A/N #1: This is a spin off of A Dream In A Nightmare and takes place ~6 months later. It’s recommended that fic is read prior to this one...

_____

Four Hours Later

“What exactly are you doing here?” asked Dean when you walked in the front door at your house in town. He barely lifted his head up from the dining room table where he had his computer out.

“Helping find Smith and potentially Lewis.”

You left your one bag by the door, the other going on top of the table across from him.

“I think a better idea would be for you to go stay with Matty where it’s safe,” he said.

“Do you not trust me?” you asked. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. “I asked if-”

“I love you,” he said, pulling his hands away and looking over at you. “I love you, you fucking dumbass. The past six months have been the best damn six months of my life. I feel happy. I am happy. I don’t feel like a monster or a psycho anymore. Some days I feel like maybe I’m not even the bad guy. But I am the bad guy, sweetheart. You killed to keep your brother alive. I did it because it was the only control I could have in my life. It seemed like the only way I could stop the bad guys out there. Now I’m one of them. You deserve better than life with a monster.”

“Dean,” you said, sighing and taking a deep breath. You walked into the kitchen and sat up on the countertop, gripping the edge as he walked over and leaned back against the island across from you. “I killed eight innocent people. I did that for my brother. You kill bad people. Not counting Lewis, I apparently have only killed eight innocent people. I’m the monster, not you. I have zero justification for what I did and I don’t want it. Don’t try and push me away saying all that crap. I’m the bad guy, Dean. I am exactly the kind of person that belongs on your list.”

“He forced you,” said Dean.

“I had a choice. I picked Matty every time. Even when I wasn’t sure if he was alive, I kept...just in case. It was always a choice, Dean.”

“You were a twelve year old girl. You had no choice. Even as an adult, you had no choice.”

“Yes, I did. I grew up. I got bigger. I could have said no a long time ago but I didn’t.”

“You were alone and terrified and Lewis had you right where he wanted you. I was that kid too,” said Dean. A beat went by before he took a step in front of you and grabbed your hand. “I want you to go because I love you. I don’t want him to hurt you anymore.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you,” you said. He cocked his head and rested his forehead on your own. “I threw a knife at his neck and he didn’t go down. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“We’re not going to get far if we keep hating ourselves,” he said.

“You gotta promise me if he ever got a hold of me, you forget about me. You take care of my brother and you just forget about me,” you said.

“I’m never forgetting the woman who saved me, saved my family,” he said. “Matty’s somewhere safe?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. “Can we do this together?”

“Normally works out better when we do,” he said, smiling for a brief moment. “Two weeks ago we were talking about the rest of our lives and what that meant for us. I want to make those things happen. I never want our family to be afraid of something like this happening again.”

“Then let’s get this guy and get Lewis if he’s out there and do those things. I want to go back to having backyard barbecues and turning our bedroom into a pillow fort and being us. I want us to move on for once and for all,” you said.

“Say we do get James Smith and Lewis. After that...what I do...do you want me to stop?” he asked. “Stop killing.”

“I want you to do it if you want to. If you want to stop, you stop. I’m not telling you what to do one way or the other, De. When it’s all over, I only want you to be happy, Dean. That’s all I want for you.”

“If I said I liked it...liked helping people...would you be angry?” he asked. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean shifting closer.

“Do you remember my cousin? I introduced you to her last month at your company party,” you said.

“Yeah. She came with Brix. He’s in construction sector. He just made manager for second shift electrical I think,” he said.

“You own a billion dollar corporation with 300 employees and you know the facilities manager,” you said with a smile.

“Memorizing 300 names and faces is a lot easier than plotting a murder,” he said. “I remember her. Why?”

“Because you saved her life if you can remember. You saved mine,” you said. “He was a horrible person and my Uncle hurt her. She was a shell before. Now, now she goes to nursing school. She has a good and nice boyfriend. She smiles. She’s living again. You might kill. But you save just as much, if not more. If you want to keep saving people, I’ll be okay with that. Always,” you said. “Maybe you can take some breaks in there but I’ll never make you stop being you.”

“You’re not supposed to fall in love with the monster,” he said.

“I didn’t. I fell in love with you,” you said. “You saved my brother just as much as I did. You’ll never convince me you’re not the good guy so stop trying, babe.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder, giving you a big hug in return.

“Probably still be eating out seven nights a week,” you said. He chuckled, a tiny shake escaping him. You ran your hand through his hair, the other tracing up and down his spine. “Go relax and take a bath. I know you haven’t been sleeping well the past week. Go on. I’ll keep you safe. We’ll order some food for a late dinner when you’re all done.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay,” you said. You gave him a kiss and he went upstairs, the bedroom door shutting quietly in the distance. After a beat, you hopped off the counter and went to the fridge, pouring a drink and turning your attention to Dean’s computer. “Alright. What have you come up with so far…”

You took a seat and started poking around, Dean not finding anything new out on James Smith it seemed. All the data you had pointed to him living in a home on the north side of town in a quiet suburb. Houses far apart. Lots of land. Gated driveways.

If he lived there, he certainly had enough money to get Lewis the medical attention he would have needed without anyone ever knowing.

“What are you-” you said to yourself before you heard a bang upstairs, Dean shooting down the landing in nothing more than a towel.

“Move. Now,” he said as he headed for the front door. You grabbed the computer and your bag, Dean picking his up from earlier and rushing outside with you. “I see this time, I don’t get yelled at for leaving my crap by the door.”

“Who is there?” you asked, grabbing your keys and running around to the other side of your car, tossing your clothes in the back. You got behind the wheel and Dean slid inside, taking a deep breath. You took off and he looked back out the window at the house. “Dean.”

“House isn’t safe,” he said, holding up a small white card. “It was taped to the bathroom mirror. It was not there when I got in that tub. I shut my eyes for a minute max and when I opened them, there it is. It says welcome home.”

“Fuck,” you said, squeezing the wheel. You drove out of your neighborhood and into where you normally did your errands.

“Pull into a parking lot,” he said. You found a nearly empty one, the sun down by that time of night. You rested your head on the wheel but felt him staring at you. You lifted it and looked down to see a knife in his other hand. “You leave it under the seat in case of emergencies.”

“If you have something to say, then say it,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. He grabbed your wrist and held up the knife.

And put it in your palm, shrugging you off.

“If you think I suspect you, come right out and say it,” he said.

“Yeah, for a second it crossed my mind,” you said. “What the hell are you doing looking at me like that for? Or was everything we just said in the kitchen bullshit?”

“Oh come on. I-Gas, gas, gas!” he said, his eyes getting bigger. You hit the pedal and the car lurched forward, Dean grabbing the wheel as you cut out through the lot. In your rearview you saw a pickup speed right through where you’d been parked. 

“You were watching that truck, not me,” you said, getting a hold of the wheel and getting back on the road.

“Yeah. I was trying not to make it obvious,” he said. You handed the knife back to him, Dean wiping his hand over his face. “That was a fully loaded vehicle. Expensive.”

“James Smith?” you asked.

“The Wilson’s,” said Dean to himself. “The Wilson’s are on vacation and that truck has been parked in their driveway next door all week. Shit.”

“Dean. I think Smith knows we’re on to him,” you said, catching headlights far back in the distance.

“He did it on purpose,” said Dean, looking in the rearview mirror. “He wanted us to find him. He wanted it, Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because,” said Dean, reaching into the back and grabbing his bag. “Because...oh thank you, thank you my spare running sneakers are back here.”

“The only reason they’re back there is cause you didn’t bother to get them after that make out session,” you said.

“You know I’m learning from all this that my lazy side is coming really in handy,” he said. “Don’t crash us.”

“Don’t what...and you’re climbing in the back as I drive away from someone who very likely wants to kill us,” you said, Dean managing to fling himself back there with only one swerve. Three minutes later he was back in the front seat and in clothes and his sneakers, rifling through your bags for anything to use as a weapon. “You were saying about Smith before, him wanting us to find him.”

“Yeah,” he said, setting the knife in the cupholder for the moment. “Dammit, it’s all we got. If it gets dicey, you take it.”

“Alright,” you said, plowing through a red light, the truck still following after. “What’s he want?”

“You know how when you want to kill someone, you lead them into a trap but they don’t even know until it’s too late? They thought all the decisions they made were there own so they didn’t suspect a thing?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“I have a bad feeling we fell for the trap,” he said. 

“It’s one against two,” you said as you sped out of town. 

“I guarantee he has a gun,” said Dean.

“I could drive to the police station?” you said.

“We’re on the wrong side of town and he knows it,” said Dean, looking back again. “How much gas you got?”

“About half a tank,” you said. “Maybe five, six gallons.”

“Okay. We have some time to figure this out,” he said.

“Dean, I gotta cut back in towards town. If we can make it to your office building, you have security guards there. Guys with guns. We drive up, run inside, say it’s a guy with road rage after us,” you said.

“Okay. I like that plan,” he said. “I mean, I don’t. We’re gonna lose every lead we got on the guy the second we do that but it’s preferable to being dead. You gotta make this left up here.”

“There isn’t a left,” you said. “We’re on a boulevard. With a median.”

“There’s a gap right up there,” he said as he pointed.

“Dean, that’s not a turn! It’s broken guardrail.” 

“Today, it’s a turn.”

“Cars are driving the opposite way, Dean. I’m not driving head on into traffic,” you said.

“Y/N. It’s coming up. Don’t worry about the cars. Just go,” he said. 

“Oh fuck,” you said. You waited as long as you could before you turned left through the gap. “Uh. Dean.”

He threw it in reverse and suddenly the traffic right in front of you was backing off, Dean holding onto the wheel too. He turned it slightly before he threw it back into drive to get you going the right way, the pickup on the other side going past.

“Now let’s lose him before he catches up again,” said Dean. You took off down a side street and made your way in through a neighborhood back there. “I think we finally lost him.”

“What if he put a tracker on the car?” you asked. You got your answer when you saw the truck in the rearview again. “I fucking hate this guy.”

“At least we can go in the right direction now,” said Dean. You drove straight for awhile when suddenly another pickup truck pulled up and blocked the way forward. You took a right down a street and found yourself on a cul de sac with a lone house settled back. “Y/N. What neighborhood are we in?”

“Maple Grove,” you breathed out, looking in the rearview, spotting the two pickups park and block off the exit. “We’re in Smith’s neighborhood.”

“That’s his house,” said Dean, nodding to the home outside the car. “He knew exactly what we would do.”

“To be fair, the car is bugged so not entirely your own fault,” said Lewis over what sounded like a radio. Dean threw his head back and slammed his hand against the dash. “You guys sound like you missed me. Y/N. You did so good for me, kiddo. I know it’s been a long six months but you did such a good job.”

“Dean…” you said, watching him shake his head at you.

“No,” he said. “No. Not you.”

“Dean, he’s lying,” you said.

“If she stabbed me in the neck, I’d be dead,” said Lewis. “The body double was difficult but we figured it out, didn’t we?”

“No,” said Dean. You reached over but he grabbed the knife and pointed it at you. “Don’t...why? You already had me. Why let me escape?”

“You never escaped kid,” said Lewis. “You just thought you did. I never wanted your brother. I wanted you. Now you understand. You will never escape. You haven’t been free since the day I told you I’d break you.”

“You didn’t…” said Dean, staring at you, looking all kinds of panicked. “You said you wanted to have a family! We were gonna get married and have kids and I was gonna get Matty a job and he could…”

“Dean, Lewis is lying. I love you, honey, I love you. I would never betray you,” you said.

“Or would she? She’s done it before. She still playing her game? She likes playing games with her toys. You’ve always been a fun one of hers,” said Lewis.

Dean took a deep breath, his face wet as he glared at you. 

“Get out of the car, Dean. I won’t throw you in a cellar this time. You do as I say and we can all get along peacefully,” said Lewis.

“Why?” said Dean, sniffling but not bothering to wipe off his face. “Why her?”

“To prove a point. No one could ever love you apart from me. Now get out of the car,” he said. 

“Dean, don’t,” you said. He stared at the knife and then at you, some blankness to his eyes. He put the knife down and got out of the car. He got a shove to the ground and you got out, Dean not even putting up a fight. “Hey! Stay-”

“That’s enough,” said Lewis right behind you, the sharp tip of a blade resting against your lower back. “Look at him. You broke him real good.”

The other man in the mask hoisted Dean up after he secured his hands and threw a hood on him, leading him blindly over to the house. Lewis didn’t move with you and you weren’t sure if he was deciding to kill you there or inside.

“Aren’t you going to ask how I’m alive?” he said.

“Obviously you have a partner I never knew about,” you said. “He’s going to wise up. He’s going to realize you’re lying about me and he will escape.”

“Why do you think you’re here? What’s a better incentive to behave than a little brother? The love of his life,” chuckled Lewis. “Congratulations. You’ve gone from star pupil to permanent resident.”

“How exactly do you expect to keep me in line?” you said, Lewis grabbing your arm and walking the two of you over to the driveway.

“I had no problem hurting him as a boy. What do you think I’ll do when he’s a man?” said Lewis.

“You won’t kill him. It’s everything you’ve worked for,” you said.

“You’re correct there. But I can still do irreversible damage. I don’t want to break him completely but if I have to in order to get you to behave, I will,” he said. 

“You don’t hurt people you love,” you said, walking down the incline. He shoved you down and gave your ribs a kick, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“Get used to it,” he said. He grabbed your arm and hoisted you up, dragging you into the house. “I hope you enjoyed the fresh air. It’s the last you’re getting.”

He pushed you into a very nice foyer and a stronger grip grabbed you this time, the other man in the mask taking you away down a hall. You went through a pair of doors into a home library, the man holding you pinning your arms behind your back. There was an open space behind what looked like where a bookcase belonged. You caught sight of panel on the wall before you stepped into windowless room.

“Get off of me!” you shouted, trying to get away even if your ribs were killing you. The man led you over to a plain bed on the ground, a little hook in the wall with a metal cable running around the edge of the room. A pair of soft padded cuffs went around your wrists, the guy kneeling right on your newly forming bruise punching the air out of your lungs. When he got up, your arms were behind you but you had enough of a tether to move and get on the bed. 

He pulled out a strip of cloth from his back pocket and you groaned.

“Dean has money. We have so much money. We can pay you whatever you want. Just let us-”

“You can shut up now,” said the man, tying the gag over your mouth. Something sounded familiar about it though. He sat back on his heels and pulled off his mask, your eyes wide. “You did what you had to in order to survive. I get that. I did what I had to too. You live with that guy that long...you can’t help going a little coocoo for cocoa puffs. You know what I mean?”

You stared at him and he pulled down your gag before tightening it uncomfortably around your neck.

“That too snug, little sis?” he asked with a dark smile.

“Dylan,” you whispered, the fabric making your throat already hurt. “He said...we heard the gun...”

“Lewis gave us options. You didn’t like the options. So while you got to live out and about in the real world, I got broken.”

“He said you were dead,” you said.

“Dylan Y/L/N died a long time ago so yeah, I guess he was right. I’m not your brother anymore. I’m his,” he said. 

“No, you’re not. He manipulated you. He hurt you to get what he wanted. He doesn’t care about you. He wants Dean and now he’s got him. He doesn’t-”

You stopped talking when he grabbed your neck, giving it a squeeze.

“You abandoned me. You picked Matty over me. Don’t worry, I’ll find him too and then I’ll bring him back here and then you’re gonna learn what it feels like to be broken,” he said.

“I didn’t-” you coughed out, Lewis grunting in the doorway. Dylan let go of you as you heaved, getting some air back in your body.

“I told you, she has value right now,” said Lewis.

“I ain’t gonna kill her,” he said as he stood. “Not until she asks me to.”

“Never happening,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Your brother is very persuasive,” said Lewis. “Clean up the cars, Dylan, and then we can have our first dinner with Dean.”

You glared at him, Lewis raising an eyebrow.

“You weren’t hungry, were you?” he said with a smirk. They both left and the metal back of a bookcase slide over the entrance, sending you into darkness. A bright light turned on overhead and you winced, taking in your surroundings. There wasn’t much aside from the mattress and a toilet sink looking thing in the corner and a showerhead and drain in the one nearby.

“Sammy, come find your brother before it’s too late,” you said to yourself. “Please come find him.”

Four Hours Later

It had to have been around two in the morning when Dylan came inside the room. You wearily lifted your head as he undid the tie around your neck.

“Is this where you tell me you were pretending?” you asked. He sat back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I knew that was too much to hope for.”

“Lewis said I can train you,” he said.

“Train me to do what?” you sighed.

“Be part of the family,” he said. He took a knife out of his back pocket and flicked it open. “Sort of intense. I don’t guarantee you won’t be a whimpering shell when you come out on the other side of it.”

“You were my big brother you know,” you said as he put the knife against your back.

“So?”

“So why did a twelve year old girl have to save her big strong eighteen year old brother? You should have saved me. You should have saved me and Matty,” you said. He stared at you and you scowled. “We were children. You weren’t.”

“Lewis is my father. He-”

“No, Dylan, he’s not. Our real dad and our real mom were killed, in front of us. All I wanted, all I was counting on, was you getting out and saving us. He took you out to the back of that barn and shot and we thought you...you owe me an explanation of how the fuck you’re alive,” you said.

“I don’t owe you anything,” he spat back, slicing into your back.

“Yes you do!” you shouted. He did it again and you grunted. “Did he say he’d let you go if you pretended? Say you could go back home if he got us? What’d he say, Dylan? What did-”

“He said he’d let you two go!” he shouted, getting right in your face. He was panting, his brow scrunched up. “So I shut my mouth and listened to you two cry and then I heard him take you both away. But he came back too soon before I could get out and then he had me. He told me the truth, told me Matty was someplace with him, you were free but you were going to start learning real soon. You were kids. You were afraid. He could manipulate you two. I was too old. I was too big. I was the one that got hurt and hurt and hurt and hurt and everytime one of you two did something right, I got hurt for it. You’re the reason I broke bones and-”

“You know he manipulated you,” you said, Dylan leaning back. “But you don’t even care. You’re still on his side. Why?”

“Because he is very good at breaking people once there’s a crack. Dean has cracks, Y/N. He’s not fought back once. He’s not talked back once. He’s going to fall apart and then Lewis will put him back together exactly how he wants him and Dean won’t even know what hit him.”

“You know what hit you,” you said.

“Don’t be cute,” he said. He dug the tip of the knife into your shoulder blade for a split second, just long enough before he pulled back and moved away. He went over to the entrance and you turned towards him.

“If you want to hate us, that’s your choice. But you remember what mom said? The last thing she ever said? Take care of them. She said that to you.”

“I did. But now I’m just angry,” he said. “If I have opportunity to kill you, I will. Matty too.”

“Then I guess that settles that,” you said, leaning over onto the mattress. “Dylan.”

“What,” he said.

“Hurt my little brother and I’ll stab you in the neck too,” you said. He blinked a few times before shaking his head. “I’m not joking.”

“I know. Which is why if you think you hate me now, wait until you see once he’s here.”

He left after that and you rolled onto your stomach, trying to stretch out your arms and alleviate the pain your back.

If you could just get to Dean, you knew you could get through to him.

Getting there was going to be a problem though.

The Next Evening

“I heard you asked to speak to me,” said Lewis. You sat with your hands in your lap, glancing up at him. “You were good today so you can have a rest on those shoulders. Out with whatever you want, I have dinner soon.”

“Dylan wants to hurt my brother Matty. I also know that he’s so fucked up that if you told him to stay away from our little brother, he would. So I propose a compromise,” you said.

“You’re up to something,” he said, crossing his arms. “Continue.”

“You want Dean to break. I bet the shock is wearing off and he’s starting to have doubts about me turning on him,” you said.

“Always were intelligent,” said Lewis with a quick smile. “It was always going to happen. I’m prepared for that.”

“But it’d make your life easier if he thought it was true.”

“That’s correct,” he said. You took a deep breath and threw your head back, closing your eyes. “You want me to tell Dylan that Matty’s off limits and if I do, you’ll say whatever I want to Dean, won’t you.”

“I became a killer for him. I think I can pull off a little acting,” you said.

“Would you hurt, Dean? Do it with a smile?”

“Lewis. Think of all the shit I’ve already done with a smile for you. This would be a breeze compared to some of that,” you said.

“But you love him.”

“Yes, I do. But I love my brother more. I’ve sacrificed everything for him. I will sacrifice this too,” you said.

“I’m not letting you go,” he said.

“I didn’t ask for that. You know what I want. Matty is out of this, for good. If you can agree to that and call off, Dylan, I will do and say whatever you want to Dean.”

“Are you starting to understand why I said you’d be useful?” he smirked. “I always knew this would come up. I always knew where your loyalties would fall.”

“Do we have a deal?” you asked, holding up a hand as far as it would go.

“Yes,” he said, shaking it briefly. “You will get some fresh clothes to change into. Try to look nice for when you see him, hm?”

“Whatever you say, Lewis.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[one-boring-person]

Hi! I had an idea for a David (lost boys)/reader fic if you're interested! Basically David finds his soulmate or mate, whatever you call it and he's doing everything in his power to get her to turn. Like she already knows what he and the guys are and they both are crazy about each other, but she's stuck on the idea of having to kill in order to survive. And David is doing everything from his usual mysterious behavior to down right pleading her to turn so they can be together forever? Thank you!

Thank you for requesting something! I hope this is satisfactory😁😅(I'm sorry if it's a bit cringy)

**

Please?

David (The Lost Boys) x reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, mentions of death

Masterlist

He'd found me six months ago, a lone figure on the Boardwalk with a nervous disposition, jumping and tensing whenever someone nearby suddenly yells or shouts over the cheery music playing in the background, eyes wide at the variety of characters lining the bright streets. I hadn't initially felt the connection between us, but he tells me he'd been drawn to me instantly, somehow feeling the urge to search the crowd until he eventually found me, though he hung back, unwilling to give me any further shock, what with his rather intimidating appearance. It took him a month to finally introduce himself, and even then I'd been a little wary of his confident approach, but I'd soon gotten to know him well enough for him to reveal his secret to me, and to explain to me what the mate bond between us is. As soon as he did this, however, he started asking me the one thing I'd always have to refuse him - if I'd turn for him.

The idea didn't sit well with me, it never had and undoubtedly never will, the thought of having to intentionally kill people in order to survive, not to mention drinking their blood, making me feel sick to the stomach. It has nothing to do with him, or the others, of course; in fact, I've had the best time of my life with them, slowly gaining more confidence as time goes on, falling harder and harder for the platinum blonde mullet wearing vampire, so much so that I would stay with him for an eternity, if it didn't mean slaughtering hundreds of innocent people. I've told him this thousands of times, every time he's tried to get me to turn, but my reasons always fall on deaf ears, the vampire being stubborn and unyielding to the point where he started utilising his incredibly cunning mind to try and convince me. He's tried everything, bribing me with dates and gifts, threatening (unsuccessfully) to leave me and even getting the other boys to talk to me. At some point, he even asked Max for help, but apparently the head vampire could only laugh at David's predicament.

And even after all his failed tricks, he still hasn't given up, which explains why we're currently sat, a metre or so apart, on the beach, my mind having instinctually told me to put space between us when he first brought it up again, a grim expression on my face.

"What's not to like, (Y/n)? Immortality, enhanced senses, flying..." He encourages, giving me the same speech as always, just worded slightly differently.

"Killing people..." I mumble irritably, carrying on the same tone, as if reading out a list, crossing my arms across my chest.

He chuckles, the sound reverberating around my skull as it always does, a smile tempting my lips as I hear it, having always loved the sound of his laugh, even before we officially got together.

"Yes, but I've told you before: you don't think about it once you've done it, and the thrill-"

"Overshadows the guilt, I know. You've told me about a thousand times." I finish for him, knowing he's smirking at my words, though I refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking in his direction, aware of the fact that he's most likely staring at me and able to see me in the dark, what with his vampire vision and all.

"So I don't see why you can't just accept what I'm offering you." He pushes, the vampire taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand, blowing the smoke out a few seconds later with an audible sigh.

Rolling my eyes, I clench my jaw before replying, annoyed that I have to go over it all again.

"Because, unlike you four, I'm not used to drinking blood every night, and I'm most definitely not used to killing people to get it, and the whole idea of doing either one of those things is not one I even want to think about! We've been through this countless times, and every time you just ignore me. Maybe it's time you actually listened, for a change." I snap at him, shocked at my own tone, though it is understandable after all the pestering he's put me through in the last five months.

For once, David is silent, somehow unable to come back with a witty comment or remark, a first for the cocky vampire.

"Maybe that's because I don't want to hear another rejection. I'm just as tired of this as you are, (Y/n)." He finally admits, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

"Then why do you keep doing it?!" I exclaim,  looking over at him to find that he has his head bowed, though I can tell from his posture that he is uncomfortable.

"Because I want to spend eternity with you! It's got nothing to do with the bond or whatever, I genuinely love you!" David retorts, voice laced with raw emotion, a sigh escaping his lips as he tries to calm himself, "At this point, I've run out of ideas so I've got nothing better to try than this."

Confused, I go to speak, only to be cut off when I feel his leather clad finger against my lips, telling me to keep quiet, his hands moving to hold onto mine as he goes to kneel in front of me, taking a deep breath.

"Look, I don't do this often, and it will very likely never happen again, so know that I am being as sincere as I can be. I want you to turn because I can't face an eternity without you. I've felt alone for the longest time, even with the boys hanging around it's nothing compared to how I feel when I'm with you. You make me feel as if I still belong in the world, and that I'm not some abomination that was created to spite the traditional idea of living then dying. I know the idea of killing people isn't a pleasant one, but I swear to you that it gets easier, and controlling yourself can also help with this. You don't necessarily have to kill anyone, and drinking blood doesn't sound as bad when you're like me; it's just like drinking normally, but much more satisfying trust me." He stops for a moment, looking down briefly as I try to come to terms with this new approach, barely recognising the needy vampire before me, "Please, (Y/n), I need you to stay with me. I need someone to ground me as much as you do. I, well, I don't tho k I'll be able to face the rest of my life without you. Please turn, (Y/n), please. For my sake?"

For a couple of minutes, I remain silent, my eyes wide at David's heartfelt words; I knew he loved me, but I never realised just how strongly he does, the ulterior meaning behind the words making me feel much happier about the relationship. I soon find my voice, my mind spinning from the different outlook on what he's been trying to get me to do, my response a little shaky.

"Are you begging me, David?" Is all I can manage, my head still trying to wrap itself around the idea. David doesn't beg, not for anything.

He seems to stumble over what to say, until it clicks that that is, in fact, what he is doing.

"It's the only way I can think of that will convince you, (Y/n), so yes, I am begging you to turn and stay with me until the end of our days. Please, (Y/n). I'm begging you."

Again, I take some time to myself, rubbing my thumbs over his gloved hands to reassure him a little, a low ache starting in my head as I think it through properly. I'd never considered that he had become dependant on my attention, but it makes sense: he's spent so long living as the leader of a group of unruly boys that he's most likely missed out on the affection and care that comes with having a lover, so much so that it's made him needy enough to beg for me to join them properly. We'd be able to spend endless days together, enjoying the perks of being immortal vampires through the decades, and God knows I crave doing that, spending time with the vampire I've come to love with all I have to give. But, as always, one thing keeps me from agreeing on the spot.

My thoughts stray to the imaginary images my mind conjured up, recalling the visions of terrified people being torn into by a ravenous, vampiric version of me, dying at my hands simply because I need to feed. But what he'd said earlier strikes a chord within me, reminding me that I don't have to kill, if I learn how to control myself before I become addicted to the thrill.

"(Y/n)?" His concerned voice breaks through the trance-like state I've put myself in, shaking me from my thoughts. I look him in what I think to be the eye, relaxing myself a little before speaking.

"David, I honestly want to spend eternity with you, I really do, but I have to consider the whole killing thing again. You say I can learn to control myself, but none of you guys can, not even Dwayne, who is one of the most controlled people I know. It terrifies me, honestly, having the choice to kill someone or let them live, depending on how hungry I am, and then almost always choosing to kill them anyway, because the bloodlust is just too strong. You have no idea how much that scares me." I confess to him, looking down at my lap in the dark, hoping he won't see the embarrassed flush rising to my cheeks. Quietly, he shuffles around until he's sat beside me again, wrapping his arm around my body and pulling me into his chest as he always does, letting me muzzle into him for comfort, breathing in the familiar scents that always accompany him.

"We can all help you, (Y/n), and you know that I will never give up on you, no matter how stubborn you get. I want, no, need to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that happens." He says to me, voice low and comforting as he buries his face into my hair, holding me tighter against him.

"I believe you, David. I just need time to think." I reply, moving my head so that I can look up at him, knowing his icy blue eyes will be focused on me.

"I'll give you time, (Y/n), but you know how impatient I get."

I giggle quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of platinum blonde hair back into its correct place.

"I promise you, David, I will make a decision soon, but if I do turn, you have to swear to me you will help me try not to kill people. Please?" I assure him, watching him for a reaction, though it is nearly impossible in the black night.

"Of course, I'll do anything for you." David hums in agreement, leaning down to capture my lips in a gentle kiss, lifting a hand to cup my face, pulling me closer as I gladly reciprocate.

Pulling away, he rests his chin on top of my head as I return my face to his chest, intent on staying there until he has to move, knowing he is only too happy to oblige.

"I love you, David." I whisper to him carefully, resting a hand on his chest.

"I love you, too." He replies, his voice low as he murmurs this into my hairline, pressing a quick kiss there as his hands continue to caress my sides and back, lulling me into a sense of safety and comfort.

[kittyanonymity]

A Ladybug in Gotham #1

 Marinette knows no peace 

Ok fuck it, we’re doing it!!! Hang on to your pants guys! <3 Also, just wanna say, I have loved every single Daminette fic I’ve read in this tag. You guys are a bunch of talented folks; I hope you guys like this! Also feel free to send me asks, and ask questions! There are some things that happen in the six months before the trip that I just,,,,,, REALLY did not feel like writing lmao >.> There is an allusion to some heavy stuff, but we won’t be getting into that yet.

Ages are 17-18, and Lila has been back for 4 years by the time they get to Gotham. 

Damian: 18, 19 in a few months ( like august)

Marinette (& crew): 17, (Mari’s b day is actually the month they’re in Gotham, so like april/may-ish??) Also Chloe is already 18

Tim: 22

Jason: 29 

Dick: 35

Bruce: 48

Ao3

Part 1 :HERE: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Enjoy my dears!! <3 <3

Marinette couldn’t stop the smile on her face as she leaned back in her chair, holding the acceptance paper over her head.

“We did it, Tikki! We got the trip!”

Tikki whizzed around, fluttering in front of her.

“Oh, Marinette, I know you could do it! Madame Bustier will be so happy!” Marinette smiled as her kwami nuzzled her cheek, and the girl laughed, cupping the little god close to her face.

“It’ll be just what I need for inspiration, Tikki! Gotham is beautiful in the spring I hear.” With a jolt, she sat up, her chair creaking under the sudden movement, “I have to go tell maman and papa!”

She left Tikki giggling as she raced downstairs to tell her parents.

It was one of the most exciting days of the last four years, truly.

With the fundraising done ahead of time, all she’d needed to do was write an essay on why her school deserved the trip. Despite how she personally had been treated by her class these last few years, the school still had them actively involved in the community; and while she may not like most of her classmates anymore thanks to Lila, they still took their responsibilities seriously. They had rightfully earned this chance, she thought. As the year rep, she had worked tirelessly with the other classes and their reps to arrange preparations in the event they got it, and Mme. Bustier had publicly assigned her the role of the essay; Lila had not been thrilled about that.

But she’d done it!

They were going to Gotham!

Telling Master Fu abou the possibility went well; her master trusted her judgement, and he understood her desire to go on this trip. To be safe though, he decided to send Kaalki along with her, in the event of an akuma; that way a speedy return was always possible no matter what.

She was excited; but it didn’t change the fact that the trip was still a good six months away, a good end of the year trip before graduation.

‘Just a little longer,’ Marinette thought, a rueful smile on her lips, ‘A little longer, and I’ll finally have a break.’

The four years since Lila’s return had not been kind, or even all that fun. She did her best not to dwell on her emotions, what with a madman running around praying on any and all negative feelings; but she couldn’t deny the apathy she felt at times in regards to her classmates.

Lila had made good on her promise, truly. None of her old friends cared about her anymore, bar Alix and - surprisingly - Chloe. Alya had even hit her before summer break, claiming that Lila had told her Marinette shoved her down the stairs again.

And Marinette had stared right at Adrien, her boyfriend, and he had done nothing.

And she felt nothing when she broke up with him later that same week.

Finding out he was Chat Noir over the summer had been like a slap to the face, and she was just glad he didn’t realize she’d put the pieces together; especially considering how often he visited her balcony as his hero self. He’d always flirt with her as Chat, whether she was Ladybug or Marinette; and at first, she’d almost found it flattering. Then it started to make her uncomfortable.

She’d reject him as Ladybug, only to have him come whine to Marinette while he also made passes at her, showering her in praise, and pushing her to get back with Adrien. She started avoiding her balcony.

It left her stressed and on edge; Adrien only talked to her as Chat now. He wouldn’t risk talking to her at school, and after they broke up, her parents had barred him from the bakery.

But still.

Six months.

Six more months of hell, and she’d be heading to Gotham to destress.

She couldn’t wait.

~~~~~~~~

The flight had been rather dull, despite Chloe being her seatmate for the whole trip; they’d giggled over some awful american movie for the last half, and Madame Bustier had been kind enough to room her with Chloe at their hotel. The Grand Gotham Embassy building was massive, and Marinette couldn’t help but gape in awe.

Chloe snorted as she walked up next to Mari, her own carry on in hand as they stepped off the bus.

“Careful, DC, you’ll catch flies.” Mari snapped her mouth shut, and gave Chloe a flat look; the blonde only laughed, and linked their arms.

“Come on Mari-bear, let’s get our room key so our luggage can be taken up.” Marinette smiled, and nodded.

“Yeah, I wanna get settled in too.” She leaned closer to Chloe as they walked arm in arm into the hotel lobby, heading for Mme. Bustier, “Tikki is starving.” Chloe nodded.

“Pollen is too.” She said just as softly. Marinette saw Alix wave from where she stood talking to Kim and Max, and Mari waved back softly. She averted her eyes the second Max looked at her, and Chloe hurried them away once they had their keys.

Their rooms were breathtaking, honestly. Each of the suites her class was staying in had two rooms, each with their own single bed; there was a shared seating area between the two, and one bathroom, but it still had privacy. They each had a door out onto the connected balcony, and once Marinette sat her carry on bag on her bed, she threw open the balcony door, staring out over the cityscape in wonder. Paris was beautiful, the city of Love; but Gotham was gorgeous this high up.

With a thought of mischief, Marinette scoped out some good swinging spots for later before turning to see the bellhops unloading her bags. She offered them a smile and a sincere thank you as they left. She heard Chloe settling into her room through the door, and smiled as she heard her talking to Pollen. Master Fu had decided to send Pollen along with Chloe in the event that Ladybug had to come to Paris; she could bring another ally with her if needed, without having to search one out. And since Chloé had figured out her identity two years ago, she had been the best bet. Her new hero identity, Hornet, helped.

Tikki flew out of the purse at her side, and smiled.

“We made it, Marinette! We’re finally here! Do you think the Gotham university will be what you want?”

Marinette sighed as she flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling, “I don’t know, Tikki; I hope so. The website was super promising, and the woman I spoke to seemed to think I’d have no problem getting in.”

Tikki hummed as she flew down and dug a cookie from Marinette’s purse, “Well, we’ll be here for a month, so it’s plenty of time to go and see the campus. I think you’ll like it Marinette! And once we defeat Hawkmoth, maybe we can start a new chapter here!” Marinette smiled at Tikki, sitting up.

“I think I like the sound of that. I’m worried about how… Adrien will handle it though.” Her smile fell as soon as it had come, and Tikki frowned as well. She floated over to her chosen and rested her paw on Marinette’s cheek.

“Marinette, his feelings are not your responsibility. You and Adrien broke up, and the fact that he was disrespecting your wishes as his superhero self was a major red flag. I don’t know why you were so upset when the Guardian took his miraculous.”

Marinette groaned, covering her face with her hands, and Tikki wove herself into her long hair, hugging the girl.

“I know he was your partner, Marinette, and you don’t want to replace him; but you have to know, Adrien isn’t the true Black Cat.”

Marinette went still.

“Tikki, what are you talking about?”

Tikki hesitated, before floating in front of Marinette’s face, “Well, for some of the miraculous, there are multiple people who can be Chosen, and some of them are better candidates than others. Adrien was the best option out of the people in Paris, so the Guardian Chose him; but he is not meant to be your Black Cat, he is just A Black Cat.” Marinette stared at her Kwami with wide eyes, slowly processing.

“So… you’re saying he’s not my other half?”Tikki shook her head, “No; and he was never meant to be. His actions have done nothing but prove that. I’m sure once we return to Paris, we’ll be sent to find the real Black Cat.”

And in a moment of clarity, Marinette realized she was out of Paris, far away from Hawkmoth; so when tears rose to her eyes, she let them come. She covered her mouth as she sobbed, and she bent over, resting her elbows on her knees as she breathed.

“Oh, Marinette, don’t cry! Please don’t be sad!” Tikki fluttered around her anxiously as she cried, and after a moment, Marinette laughed; it was a bit raspy, but it was happy. She spared a glance at her, where, in a secret pocket, she had stored Plagg's slumbering miraculous; she looked back at her own kwami.

“Tikki, I’m-I’m not sad, I’m… I’m so relieved.” Her smile was weak, but sincere, “I was terrified that he was an inevitability I’d have to just accept…” Tikki’s frown grew, and she hugged her chosen again, little tears leaking down her face.

“I’m so sorry Marinette, I wish you didn’t have to feel so much negativity all the time.”

A knock at her and Chloe’s shared door cut her off before she could reply, and Marinette looked over in time to see Chloe peek in. The blonde’s eyes grew wide when she saw Mari crying, and she rushed over, sitting on the bed next to her.

“What’s wrong, Mari-bear?”

And Marinette laughed, wrapping her arms around Chloe.

“For once, nothing!” 

Chloe shared a look with Tikki while the kwami spoke with Pollen in hushed tones, but she just hugged her friend closer. They sat in silence for awhile, waiting while Marinette composed herself. With a final sniffle, Marinette leaned back and gave Chloe a grin.

“Since it’s a rest day, do you think they’d let us check out the surrounding boutiques? I wanna see what kind of fashion Gotham has.”

Chloe snorted, but it was in good humor, “Nothing they have here could compare to what you make, Mari-bear, or even what Paris has in general.” With a smile, Chloe reached over and tapped her nose, “But I’m sure Mme. Bustier will allow it as long as you’re with someone as amazing as me.”

Chloe had learned long ago not to pry into Marinette’s business, and since she’d split up with Adrien, Chloe had learned just how true that statement was; learning that the blonde boy was Chat Noir and that he’d been harassing Marinette on her balcony? That had been an accident, though Marinette had been the one to tell her.

Chloe could only watch Marinette flinch away from the Cat hero so much before she’d gotten concerned, and asked for an explanation. And Marinette hadn’t held back; she’d told Chloe everything, from the midnight visits, to how he constantly complained about Ladybug - herself -, and finally to how he flirted with her as Marinette, and kept insinuating that she get back with Adrien.

As the only one who knew, Chloe had doubled down on partnering with Marinette for everything after that; and now that his miraculous had been reclaimed, Chloe wanted to sigh in relief.

If you’d told either girl four years ago that they would be inseparable even at the end of lycée, they would’ve scoffed and told you you were crazy; and yet here they were, Chloe helping Marinette clean up her face before they went to see madame Bustier. It was only around 3 pm in Gotham, and dinner wouldn’t be until 8; and as much as Marinette wanted to enjoy the indoor pool, she would much rather see the city.

Once they were ready, Chloe led them down to the lobby, kwamis secure in their purses, and found Miss Bustier talking with one of the receptionists. Chloe - being, well, Chloe - walked over, and interrupted.

“Mme. Bustier, Mari-bear and I are going to look at the boutiques across the street. Call me if you need us.” And leaving their teacher spluttering and indignant, Chloe led them away, and out the doors. Marinette laughed a bit as they were out of hearing range.

“She’s going to kill you Chloe, you know that?” Chloe smiled while they stood at the crosswalk waiting to cross, and she flipped her blonde bob over her shoulder.

“Please. That woman wishes she could do anything to stop me.” Marinette watched as Chloe’s smile fell, and they walked as the walk sign lit up. “Besides, of course I’m not going to listen to a teacher who has let Lila just do as she pleases. She’s just as complicit in your abuse as the rest of the class is, Mari-bear, and I will not tolerate it. It's utterly ridiculous.”

Marinette felt her heart warm, and her smile softened before she hugged Chloe’s arm closer to her. “Thanks, Chlo. Though you know~” Chloe groaned, knowing where Marinette was going with this, “you also used to torment me pretty relentlessly.”

Chloe levelled her with a flat look as they walked into a store, “Yes, we’ve established that, DC, thank you for reminding me.” Chloe pinched Marinette’s cheek with a grin, “Such a goody goody, you know that?” Marinette laughed, and batted her hand away.

“Come on, let’s see what they’ve got, dork.” She ignored Chloe’s indignant squawk, and laughed as she started looking through the clothes.

Marinette and Chloe talked idly while they browsed, but found nothing of note in the first store other than a cute pair of bulky sneakers that Marinette couldn’t help but buy. Chloe had rolled her eyes and commented on how thin they made her legs look; which of course, made Marinette reveal the inspiration behind the choice. BLACKPINK was a pretty popular K-pop girl group, and Marinette had fallen in love with their style since day one. The baggy pants with big shoes they often used was something Marinette found herself enjoying more than she ever thought she would, but she just hadn’t found the right pair of shoes until now.

The next store was much better, in Chloe’s opinion; Marinette shied away from the Agreste line on display, and followed Chloe over to where her mother’s work was displayed. Audrey was a difficult woman, but neither of them could deny her talent in the industry.

Both girls ended up leaving with something to fit in their wardrobes. Chloe had chosen a deep purple blouse with ruffled sleeves; Marinette had giggled, telling her she reminded her of a witch, but the color was excellent on her. Marinette had gone more simple and fun, opting for a zip up hoodie inspired by one of Gotham’s own heroes, Robin. It may have been spring in Gotham, but being Ladybug, Marinette was very susceptible to the cold; she’d get sluggish and sleepy, and spring in the states was cooler than in France.

By the time they were bored of the shops, it was only five o’ clock. Chloe stifled a yawn, and Marinette looked at her.

“Why don’t you go ahead and head back Chloe? I’m gonna go sit in the park there, and try to design for a bit.” Chloe stared at her for a moment before she looked at the park. It was visible from the front of the hotel, and their hotel was in the better part of the city. Well, all that, and the fact that Marinette was Ladybug...  

Chloe nodded, taking Marinette’s shopping bag for her since the girl had already put on her new hoodie, “That should be ok. But I swear, DC, if something happens, I am not letting you go anywhere alone for the rest of this trip.” Marinette laughed, and waved off her concerns.

“Don’t worry, Chlo, if anything happens, I can handle it.” Feeling playful, Marinette raised her arm, and flexed, “After all, these guns aren’t just for show.”

Listening to Chloe laugh hysterically was always a treat, and it warmed Marinette from her toes to her head every time. In some small way, she was grateful to Lila; if it hadn’t been for her, she and Chloe would’ve probably never become such good friends.

“Ugh, no one likes a show off, Marinette.”

The smile fell from her face instantly, and Chloe’s laughter cut off like someone flipped a switch. Mari turned to see Lila standing behind her with a smug smile, though it had been Alya who spoke, Alya who was glaring at her with disdain. Nino was behind them looking kind of uncomfortable, Adrien next to him, backed up by Rose and Juleka, and even Sabrina. Marinette flinched under the harsh stares, and felt herself shrink as she stepped back, but before she could say anything, Chloe was there, a snarl marring her lips.

“Funny how you say that Cesaire, given who you’re friends with.” She blocked their line of sight to Marinette, though it was only Lila’s and Alya’s, and Marinette could feel Adrien staring at her, “You think what Mari was doing was showing off? Then what do you call Lila bragging about all the fake shit she’s done, huh?” Chloe didn’t even give her time to respond before she scoffed, and rolled her eyes, shutting down Alya's retort, “Oh, wait, nevermind, I forgot. You’re such a terrible reporter you don’t even fact check anymore, my bad.” Chloe smiled at the end, before making a shooing motion with her hand, “Now begone. I don’t appreciate sheep breathing my air.”

Lila turned on the waterworks as Chloe turned away, and gently guided Marinette down the sidewalk to the park they’d been talking about; Alya was shouting after them, but they continued on. Once they were out of sight, Chloe wrapped her friend in a hug, and Marinette cried. It was how it happened every time, for the last three years, since Chloe had decided to stick to the girl’s side. She’d only known about her being Ladybug for two years, but even before then, she’d made efforts to befriend the girl she’d bullied; because Lila was somehow so much worse than even Chloe was, and it was plain for the blonde to see. It had become routine at this point.

Lila and Alya would gang up on Marinette, Chloe would make them back off, and then comfort Marinette. Mari had told her time and time again, she didn’t need to do that, but Chloe knew she did. Chloe had messed up too many times to count, and she knew Marinette still cared about some of their classmates, especially Alix since she was the only other one who would hang out with them.

But Chloe?

Chloe had never cared about sparing people’s feelings until she’d become Marinette’s support. She would tear them down each time they came for her best friend. Alix had told her she was ‘fierce’, and Chloe thought it was an accurate description nowadays. They were nearly adults for crying out loud; you’d think her idiot classmates would’ve caught on to Lila’s lies by now.

“Are you ok?” Chloe asked softly. She rubbed soothing circles into Marinette’s back as the girl calmed down, her cries giving way to sniffles. Marinette nodded, pulling back and wiping her eyes.

“I-I think so. Thanks Chloe. It feels… It actually feels so much better to just let it out, and not have to worry about getting akumatized.” Chloe nodded, brushing some hair out of Marinette’s face.

“Good. Cesaire is lucky I didn’t deck her. Like, seriously, what a hypocrite.” Chloe was fuming, but she softened when Marinette laughed, “Do you still wanna sit in here and try to design?”

Marinette cleared her throat, and nodded, “Yeah, I do. It’ll be nice, I think.” She rubbed at her face some more, wiping the moisture away, but her red eyes remained. “I just want to decompress for a bit, you know?”

Chloe nodded, “Ok, then I’m gonna go ahead and go back to our room.” She gave her friend a severe look, “And I’m serious, Marinette. If anything happens, you call or text me, ok?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, but smiled, “Chloe you’re not my bodyguard, you know that right?”

Chloe scoffed, “Bullshit, I am so. And I am totally the best at it, by the way.”

Marinette hugged Chloe tight, startling the other girl, “Thanks, Chlo. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Chloe’s mind flashed back to a dark night on the Seine from three years ago; of tears, and horrible wishes, and she wraps her arms around Marinette in a tighter embrace.

“Probably get lost, and then kidnapped, honestly. Your sense of direction is awful, Mari-bear.”

It worked, sparking another laugh out of her best friend, and Chloe wanted to sigh in relief.

“Now go and find yourself a nice spot to sit. I’m going to make sure Lie-la and her little goonies are gone.” Marinette nodded as they separated, and Chloe booped her on the nose, “I’ll see you back at the room, DC.”

With that, Chloe waved and walked back towards the entrance of the park. She needed to talk to Alix. Lila always planned something big when Chloe defended Mari, and she was sure this time would be no different. She needed to be ready.

And without the risk of being akumatized?

Well.

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh.

Lila wouldn’t know what hit her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette found a soft patch of grass in the sun behind a wall of bushes, and sighed as she sat her purse on the ground, and flopped down. She could hear the rush of cars on the street over, and sirens in the far distance; there were birds singing in the trees around her, and children laughing over at the playground she’d passed. It was peaceful.

“Marinette? Are you ok?”

She smiled as Tikki nestled into her long hair, offering her comfort.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ok Tikki. I just wish they’d stop. It’s lessened since Chloe became my friend, but it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts. Hearing Alya say such awful things to me, even now…” Marinette sighed, feeling her eyes tear up; nope, she was done for today, she could cry again tomorrow, “It still feels like a knife in my lungs.”

And she knew what that felt like; Sharpener had been an akuma from two years ago. She was a chef who’d gotten akumatized because her coworker had broken her best knife out of jealousy. Chat Noir had been distracted during the fight, and Ladybug had missed the akuma’s approach, taking the knife right between her ribs. Her Miraculous Cure had healed her, but Marinette still remembered the pain quite vividly.

She’d almost been akumatized after the fight was over, having been sent into a panic attack.

Shaking herself out of it, Marinette reached over into her purse and pulled out her sketchbook. She’d upgraded from her little clasp bag that she’d made to something with a bit more utility. It was a lavender shoulder bag with a cross strap, and it was large enough to hold her sketchpad, and a few other essentials while leaving plenty of room for Tikki and Kaalki, along with the pocket for Plagg's miraculous box.

“Marinette, I know their treatment of you still hurts. I’d be more worried if it didn’t. But remember,” And Marinette looked at Tikki, surprised to see the bright smile on the kwami’s face, “you’re Ladybug, with or without the mask, and if they can’t see how sincere and kind you are, then they never deserved you in the first place.” Tikki flew forward, and hugged Marinette’s cheek, “You’re  the best Ladybug I’ve ever had, and you mean so much to me. I hate seeing people hurt you, and I’m sorry I can’t do more for you, Marinette.”

“Tikki’s right, Marinette.” Mari glanced down to see Kaalki poking her head out of the purse, a smile on her face, “You’re an excellent Ladybug, and you’ll be an excellent Guardian one day, we all know it.”

Mari smiled, reaching down and rubbing Kaalki’s head gently, “Thanks Kaalki, thank you Tikki. I love you guys. You hungry?” Both kwamis said yes, and so Marinette handed Tikki a couple cookies, while Kaalki dove into the small pile of sugar cubes Marinette gave her. Tikki and Kaalki conversed quietly in her purse, and Marinette finally turned her attention to her sketchbook.

Humming to herself, Marinette drifted off as her pencil danced across the paper. It was easy to get lost in the sounds of the park around her, and she was thrilled with what she was coming up with. Already, dresses and casual clothes filled the next few pages of her book as she worked. She was just about to ask Tikki something when an explosion rocked the earth.

Marinette yelped as the ground beneath her rumbled, and Tikki burrowed into her hair in a panic.

“What was that, Marinette?!” Marinette shook her head, getting to her feet, and putting her bag over her shoulder, reaching in, and patting Kaalki in reassurance. She crawled to the edge of the bush where all the commotion had originated from, and peeked out carefully. Most of the people were gone, but she could still hear crying somewhere.

Then the laughter started.

Marinette felt a chill go down her spine. While her and the other reps of the school had been planning this trip, she had researched about every danger Gotham had to offer, looking at pictures, reading articles, and watching as many videos as she could find; she knew that laugh now.

She was just about to hide again, when she saw the source of the crying. A little girl with dark hair sat in the dirt behind a trash can, holding her hands to her eyes while she sobbed. Mind made up, Marinette dashed from the bushes, keeping low until she reached the child. She wrapped her arms around her, and when the girl tensed, she smiled gently.

“Shhh, it’s ok, honey, I’ve got you. Where’s your parents?” The little girl shook her head, tiny hands clutching Marinette’s jacket.

“N-not- h-here! B-babysitter left m-me…!” Another sob wracked the little girl’s frame, and Marinette hugged her tighter at the sound of gunfire. She needed to get out of here, get this girl to safety, but she couldn’t transform. Idly, Marinette toyed with the metal yo-yo in her purse, a gift from Master Fu that could help her fight as a civilian. She could do this.

Focusing back on the girl, Marinette pulled her back until they could look at each other; the girl’s eyes were a vibrant green, almost neon even.

“My name’s Marinette, what’s yours sweetheart?” The girl caught her breath long enough to answer, wiping at her face.

“M-Mar’i Grayson, miss.” Marinette nodded, looking at the girl in reassurance.

“I’m going to get you out of here. Let me check the area, ok? Stay behind me.” Mar’i nodded, clutching the sleeve of Marinette’s hoodie, while she leaned out around the trash can to observe their surroundings; and she promptly cursed her rotten luck.

Joker was strolling through the park with about three henchmen around him; 4 on 1 odds were not in her favor, especially with Mar’i. Marinette glanced at the little girl who was crying silently next to her, trying to not think about how much worse Joker looked in real life. Marinette found she was terrified.

No. 

She had to do something. She was Ladybug, with or without her damn mask, and she was going to protect this little girl with her life.

Marinette took a deep breath, and braced herself, “Mar’i.” The little girl looked at her with wide eyes, and Marinette smiled.

“Stay behind me, ok?” She waited until Mar’i nodded, and then they waited; and Marinette listened.

“Can’t seem to find her boss. She must’ve gotten out.”

“Oh hogwash! I saw that babysitter of hers scamper out of here without the brat, so Grayson’s daughter is here somewhere!”

Oh my god.

They were after Mar’i? Why?

‘Doesn’t matter, not gonna get her.’ Marinette thought aggressively. So she calmed herself, and she listened, and she waited until they were in range. And once they were, Marinette moved.

Leaping up out of her crouch, Marinette moved Mar’i behind her right as the group turned to look at them; but Marinette was already grabbing the trash can with both hands, and hurling it at the goons and their boss. It had the desired effect, and the group scattered, but it managed to take down two of Joker’s men, knocking one out from the sheer force while the other lost the grip on his gun, losing it in the bushes. Moving quickly, Marinette swiped Mar’i up with her free hand while she retrieved the carbon fiber yo-yo from her purse with her other.

Whipping it forward, Marinette snagged the gun of the third minion, yanking it away and to her; and then she ran.

“She’s got the brat! Get after her, you idiots!”

Marinette sprinted for the entrance of the park after throwing the gun away, running as fast as her legs could carry her; which admittedly, was quite fast. Years of being bonded with Tikki, plus the extra training she’d picked up in her free time made her formidable even out of her suit; and she was not about to let that clown get his filthy hands on this precious girl.

Marinette yelped as a bullet impacted the dirt next to her feet, and then she was bobbing and weaving, dodging bullets before she ducked behind the bathrooms.

“Get the kid, damnit! God, why are you all so useless!”

Marinette looked down at Mar’i, expecting the girl to still be terrified, but she was staring up at Marinette in awe.

“Wow, Miss Marinette, you’re like a superhero!” She said softly, and Marinette flushed, but gave the girl a small smile.

“You’re very brave Mar’i, but we’re not safe yet.” She could hear footsteps coming closer, light, matching the gait she’d heard from the Joker just moments earlier. With a small huff, she wrapped Mar’i around her again, and readied her yo-yo as she ran the opposite way. She stopped short for a moment as she came face to face with the other henchman, but thinking quickly, Marinette ducked his wide swing, and brought her head upwards into his chin, knocking him back and off balance; following up with a quick swipe at his legs, he hit the ground, and Marinette was running again.

‘Almost there, so close…’ “Merde.” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but seeing Joker grinning at her from the entrance did not instill much hope in her. He tapped the barrel of his six shooter against the palm of his hand, watching her. Marinette sat Mar’i down, and pushed her behind her further, grip on her yo-yo tight.

“Now, now, little lady, we don’t have to fight. If you’d just hand that little girl there over, I’ll let you leave. With a smile even!” The grin on his face told her he was lying, even though his laughter was a clue in and of itself.

Marinette’s eyes narrowed, and she lowered her chin, “That’s not happening, clown. Step aside.” Joker’s eyebrows flew up, and he began laughing; Marinette hated that sound.

“She’s got some fight in her then! How interesting! And a foreigner too? So fearless!” Marinette let the yo-yo swing from her hand, swinging next to her leg, as he pointed the gun at her. She felt Mar’i grip her pants tighter with a small gasp. Joker’s grin grew, “But are you so willing to die for her?”

Marinette snarled, “Of course I am!”

The lack of hesitation made the Joker pause long enough for Marinette to make her move.

With a precision that startled even her, Marinette flung her yo-yo out again, managing to grab the Joker’s gun this time, and yanking it from him. It careened away into the brush, and Marinette snapped her yo-yo back with a trained hand; just in time to see a man dressed in black land on him from above.

Holy shit.

That’s Batman.

Shaking herself off, Marinette turned and picked Mar’i up, running the other direction; no child should see a fight like that. She had to get her to safety, to her parents, or the police, someone safe. The bathrooms? No, she’d left that goon over there, and she wasn’t sure if he was down and out or not.

“Think, Marinette, think, come on!” There had to be another exit in this park, away from the chaos of the main path; big parks always had multiple entrances and exits.

“Go that way Miss Marinette!” Marinette looked to where Mar’i pointed, and followed the girls directions. Flashing red and blue lights lit up the street, and Marinette could’ve cried with relief at the sight of the police officers.

An auburn haired woman was standing at the front of the police line, looking around in a panic, and the second her eyes landed on Marinette carrying Mar’i, she rushed forward.

“Mar’i, oh my god, baby girl, you’re ok!” The woman was crying, and Mar’i smiled, reaching for the woman.

“Auntie Barb!” Knowing Mar’i knew this woman, Marinette allowed the girl to be taken from her arms delicately, but she lingered by them. An older mustached man walked up, and held out his hand to Marinette, startling her.

“Thank you for getting her out of there. What’s your name?” Marinette flushed, reaching out and shaking his hand.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, sir. Please don’t thank me. I couldn’t have left her in there. Not with him.”

“I’m Commissioner Gordon. You don’t sound like you’re from around here, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Marinette shook her head as she stepped back from him.

“No, sir; I’m from Paris. My school is here on a field trip.” The commissioner nodded.

“You’re the school Bruce Wayne sponsored.” Marinette offered him a tired smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“Miss Marinette!”

Marinette turned in time to feel tiny arms wrap around her legs, and she looked down to see Mar’i smiling at her, despite the tears on her face. Marinette crouched down to her level, and blinked when Mar’i wrapped her arms around her neck; she was quick to return the hug, even as she saw ‘Auntie Barb’ walk over.

“Thank you for saving me, Miss Marinette! You were really cool!” Marinette’s smile was small as she squeezed the little girl tight.

“Oh little one, you don’t have to thank me. I would do it again and again if need be.” She hummed contemplatively, “Though I think I’ll talk to your mama or papa about that babysitter; who leaves a little girl alone in this city?”

‘Auntie Barb’ scoffed, “When Dick hears about that, he’s gonna lose it.”

“Mar’i!”

Marinette looked over in time to see the police part like the red sea, and she was treated to seeing nearly the entire Bat pack escort a dishevelled looking dark haired man through the crowd. Mar’i broke away from her to run to the new arrival.

“Daddy!”

And Marinette smiled as she stood up, watching the two hug. Her father was patting her down, holding her close by the head, obvious relief in his eyes. It was a beautifully heart wrenching thing.

“Miss.”

Marinette jumped, looking to the side to see Batman staring down at her. She yelped, flushing.

“Y-yes, sir?”

My god, this man was intimidating! Was he going to lecture her? Bar her from the country??! Oh no, what if-?!

....Why was he holding his hand out?

Marinette blinked stupidly before she took his hand and shook it.

“What you did tonight was very admirable. You put yourself at great personal risk to protect the life of a child you’d never met, and managed to thwart a kidnapping by one of the most dangerous men in the city. You have my respect.”

Marinette’s cheeks grew more red, “Please, I-I’d do it all again, you don’t have to say any of that. It was the right thing to do; anyone would’ve done it.” Batman simply shook his head.

“No, Miss Dupain-Cheng, they wouldn’t. I’d like to get a statement from you, if you’d allow it.”

“Before that...”

Marinette and Batman both looked over, and she was surprised to see Mar’i’s father next to her. He gave her a smile.

“I would like to thank you for rescuing my darling, Miss… Marinette, was it?” Marinette nodded, fiddling with her hands; her anxiety was starting to peak with this many people. “If anything had happened to Mar’i, I… I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thank you. From the absolute depths of my heart, thank you for protecting my little girl.”

Marinette’s face grew impossibly redder, “Y-you’re welcome! It was no problem! She’s a wonderful girl.” She smiled at Mar’i as she sat in her dad’s arms. Shifting the girl to one arm, he held out his free hand.

“My name is Dick Grayson. I hope to see you again, but for now, I need to get Mar’i home before her mother gets any more anxious.” Marinette nodded as they shook hands.

“If I may, mister Grayson?” The man smiled, and despite the situation, it was shockingly cheery.

“Please, call me Dick.”

‘Auntie Barb’ snorted in amusement somewhere next to Marinette, but she tuned it out.

“Please speak to whoever was babysitting Mar’i today; they left her behind.”

Dick stared at her for a moment, maybe processing, before he nodded, a steely look in his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me, Marinette. We’ll take care of it.” Marinette smiled, before she dug around in her purse, and pulled out one of the many cookies she had for Tikki; she handed it over to Mar’i who took it with a smile of her own.

“You be safe, ok?” Mar’i nodded, giving her a bigger smile.

“I will! You’re the best, Miss ‘Nette!” Smiling at the nickname, Marinette waved to the little girl as the police escorted the family away; she realized Batman was still next to her, and snapped her attention back to him.

“S-sorry, sir. I’ll give you that statement now.”

The man seemed less intimidating for some reason, like he was quietly amused.

“You’re surprisingly humble in the face of all this, Marinette.”

‘Calm down, calm down, you’re fine.’ She thought, gripping her bag.

“I didn’t do this for attention, sir. I’m… not exactly comfortable being in the spotlight like this.”

The masked man nodded in understanding, and once he was ready, Marinette began her retelling of what had happened.

Distinctly unaware of the several pairs of ears listening in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Holy shit, you’re telling me pixie stick here threw a metal trash can at Joker?! Like a full on throw?!” Red Hood wasn’t buying it. The girl was so tiny, despite the toned muscles of her legs; she looked like she weighed ninety pounds soaking wet!

“That’s what the cameras in the park are showing, Hood.” He heard Red Robin typing away at something, before- “Holy shit.” Hood stood back by the police, flanked by Robin, and he turned his attention back to his comm line.

“What is it, Red?”

“That girl took them down with a fucking yo-yo, Hood. What the hell?”

The comm fell silent again before Jason heard all the air whoosh out of Tim over the line.

“Red? What now?”

“The… The audio. Hood, she was fully prepared to lay down her life for Mar’i. You can hear it in her voice; it’s like she’s a completely different person to who Bats is talking to.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed behind his mask as he frowned; he didn’t like the sound of that. Red Hood noticed the change in his brother’s demeanor, frowning to himself.

“What do you mean, Red?” He asked, and he heard Tim sigh.

“Look, just… wait till you get back, and I’ll show you. That girl’s good though; she’s got guts.”

A shrill call of the girls name had Jason turning, just in time to see a blonde girl tackle Marinette. She was speaking rapidly in French, checking her friend over thoroughly before she turned sharp eyes on Batman. Jason couldn’t help but grin as he watched Bruce’s eyes widen behind the mask, his eyebrows raising a little as the blonde started on a tirade.

Red Hood snickered, “Now this is funny.” He watched his father get berated by the blonde before she started guiding Marinette away; the poor dark haired girl was red all the way to her ears in embarrassment.

“Find something funny, Hood?” Jason looked at Batman as he walked over, and wished his old man could see the shit eating grin on his face.

“Course I did. It’s not everyday I get to watch a teenager yell at you.”  Next to him, Robin snorted. Hood and Robin waited until Bats had given Gordon the girl’s statement before the three of them left as one.

They met on a nearby rooftop, far enough away from the scene to be able to talk freely. Batman turned his comm back on, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Red, what do you have on her?” There was a sigh over the line.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 17, nearly 18; she’s in her last year of lycée at Francoise Dupont in Paris. She’s the one who put together the essay that won her school the trip to Gotham. Her parents own a bakery, but her mother has a vast history in martial arts it looks like. Her grades are excellent, and I’ve found records of literally so many charities I’m not gonna bother listing them.” Bruce could almost hear Tim shrug, “She’s clean, Bats.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “You said she took them down with a yo-yo, Red. That’s not a standard weapon.”

“There’s records of her enrolling in gymnastics several years back; it’s probably a skill she picked up back then; maybe from the ribbon dancing? I’ll see if I can find anything else.”

“Red, just remember,” Everyone paused at the tone of Bruce’s voice, “This is not a malicious search; she saved Mar’i’s life; I don’t want to make problems for the girl.”

“Got it, Bats.”

Batman turned to Robin, and Damian sighed.

“Let me guess, stake out her hotel, make sure she stays safe?”

Batman nodded, “She managed to stall Joker and his goons long enough for us to get there, and she put her life on the line for Mar’i. The story’s already broke the news, along with her face and name. Harley and Ivy won’t give us any problems with this, but Joker has been working on something with Scarecrow for the last couple of months, and I don’t think he’s going to appreciate the hiccup in their plan.” Damian sighed, while Jason cackled, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Oh wah, Demon spawn, you get to go protect a cute girl for awhile; who knows, maybe you’ll get a date.”

Tim snorted over the comm line before he started laughing, and Damian flushed, his cheeks pinkening a bit.

“Go die, Hood.”

“Already did that, thanks, but no.”

With one last glare sent Jason’s way, Robin walked over to the edge of the building, preparing to make his way back to the hotel they’d seen the girl enter; then Jason just had to speak again.

“Oh yeah, did you see she was wearing your merch?”

Father probably wouldn’t let him kill Jason, right?

….

It didn’t stop him from trying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god, Mari, you made it onto the news!” Chloe laughed as she lowered the volume on the broadcast. The cameraman had gotten a good shot of when Marinette had sprinted out of the park, and as she was speaking to the various people who had come up to her; though they mostly replayed her shaking Batman’s hand as he spoke to her.

“Tonight, the attempted kidnapping of Bruce Wayne’s granddaughter was thwarted by a passing teenager from Paris by the name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who managed to stall the Joker until Batman could arrive, while protecting miss Mar’i Grayson. This is not the first time the Joker has gone after a member of the Wayne family…”

Marinette groaned and flopped on the couch, covering her eyes with her hands.

“God, turn it off please, Chlo. It was mortifying explaining this to Mme. Bustier without having to hear more of it.” Chloe rolled her eyes, but turned it off anyway. They were lounging in the shared space of their suite, curtains thrown wide to provide a good view of the skyline as the sun set. Tikki, Pollen, and Kaalki were all sitting on the coffee table munching on their respective treats. Tikki flew up, hovering over Marinette where she lay on the couch.

“You were amazing Marinette! I was blown away!” Kaalki nodded as she swallowed a sugar cube, and then her face widened into a grin.

“That’s right, Mari! Your civilian side is super strong just like Ladybug is!” Marinette moved her hands, offering both kwami a smile.

“Thanks you two.” Chloe rolled her eyes, and plopped harshly on the couch next to Marinette.

“I’m glad you’re ok, Mari-bear. I wish I could’ve seen you in action.”

Marinette thought back to how she felt when she heard the Joker laugh, when he was pointing that gun at her. Knowing that without her, Mar’i could be killed, or worse yet.

“Chloe, I’m sorry, but I’m… I’m so glad you weren’t there.” She wasn’t going to cry again, damnit, she was nearly eighteen, but she still felt her throat close up at the force of her emotions, “The Joker is nothing like Hawkmoth, Chlo; he’s not even like the akuma we deal with. He’s in a category far removed from us. I got in a lucky shot because he hesitated.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow, and turned herself on the couch so she was facing Marinette, “What do you mean, Mari?”

Mari swallowed as she sat up, turning herself to the side so she was mostly facing Chloe as well.

“He… He asked me if I was so willing to die for her. And I didn’t even hesitate. I think it threw him off, because he just stared at me; it gave me the opening I needed to use my yo-yo.” She was starting to tremble, Chloe noticed, “I… I was so scared, Chloe. He was after that little girl. I couldn’t let him get his hands on her, I’ve heard about the things he’s done, and I couldn’t let that happen to a child.”

Chloe reached over, and gripped Marinette’s hand in hers, a look of concern on her face.

“That’s not all of it though... is it?”

Marinette shook her head, “I… I was so ready, Chloe; to accept that I was going to die. I forgot that I wanted to live until I saw that opening.” Marinette soon found herself buried in the cloth of Chloe’s sleep top, and she felt the hugs of the three kwamis too.

“Take a deep breath, Mari. You’re here. You lived, and so did the little girl. You did amazing, but not even you can be strong all the time. You can be upset while you’re here, Hawkmoth can’t get us.” Chloe tightened her hold on the girl as she finally cried her heart out; she’d been fighting it so much, for so many years. There was just... so much she’d repressed.

And Chloe held her through all of it.

~~~~~~~~~

Robin was many things. To his brothers, a nuisance, demon spawn Jason called him; to Gotham, he was the stoic boy wonder, both in costume and out. Damian Wayne was generally a cold young man, uncaring for most of the people outside of his own family for a long time. Yes, he cared about the innocents of Gotham as Robin, but as Damian? That was more difficult.

Yet as he sat concealed on the roof across from this girl’s - Marinette’s - hotel room, he felt an odd kind of weight settle in his gut. He couldn’t really read lips or hear anything from this distance, but he could tell she was crying. For some reason, it discomfited him. It was like a longing he'd never felt before, and it was very unusual for him.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the three strange creatures that were flying about the room.

This girl was… odd. Tim had said she was nearly eighteen, so she wasn’t much younger than him, but she was so… expressive. When she’d been talking to Batman, she’d clearly been anxious, but Damian had noticed her constantly sneaking glances towards Mar’i; like she was taking precautions. The girl obviously knew how to fight, as she’d been able to take down Joker’s thugs without taking a single hit.

That was honestly the weirdest part, he thought.

She’d come out without a scratch on her or Mar’i, both of them completely unscathed.

And then Tim had sent him the video he’d grabbed from the cameras, and Damian still couldn’t get it out of his head.

“She’s got some fight in her then! How interesting! And a foreigner too? So fearless!” Marinette let the yo-yo swing from her hand, swinging next to her leg, as he pointed the gun at her. She felt Mar’i grip her pants tighter with a small gasp. Joker’s grin grew, “But are you so willing to die for her?”

Marinette snarled, “Of course I am!”

When Tim had said it was like she was two different people, he hadn’t been kidding; and though at first, Damian had felt suspicious, now that he was observing her more naturally, it was rather obvious that the young woman had some self esteem issues. He’d seen the confidence in her during the video, but around so many people, it had gone out as easily as a candle. Which honestly, was a true shame.

Damian watched as another girl was let into the room by the blonde; this one had short, cropped pink hair. She looked like she’d get along with Beast Boy pretty well, a thought that made him grimace. The pink one crouched in front of Marinette, and even as far away as he was, he could see the concern on her face as her friends talked her through what he guessed may be a panic attack; but he had noticed that once the new girl had come, the three floating… things had scampered away, and out of sight. So she was keeping secrets then.

He sat there for a couple hours, watching the three girls as they spoke, and finally Marinette calmed down. He was just about to settle in for more observations when he noticed a shadow drop onto Marinette’s side of the balcony; before he could move though, he heard another body land behind him, and Damian came up swinging.

“Whoa there, demon spawn, it’s just us.” Jason dodged his hit gracefully, and Damian snarled.

“Damnit, Hood, don’t sneak up on me. And who’s on her balcony?” Jason sat on the edge of the building Damian had once occupied, and nodded towards the hotel.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Red. He’s setting up a listening device since we knew you wouldn’t be able to hear anything; Grayson is wanting us to take no chances with her safety.” Damian couldn’t fault his older brother’s logic; the girl had saved his daughter. Soon, Red Robin landed beside them, and took up a seat, pulling a speaker from his belt. Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Why the listening device now?” Tim shrugged, accepting the bag of chips Jason handed him.

“Bruce wanted to know if she’d tell anyone how she took the Joker down. We found a couple leads, but we don’t wanna push her too far.” Damian thought back to the three creatures he’d witnessed, but decided that was not his business to share. Besides, if his brothers lingered long enough, they’d see them themselves. So with a sigh, Damian sat back down next to Red Robin, and grabbed a handful of chips.

And they listened.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I CANNOT BELIEVE that asshole!” Alix shouted as she paced the floor. She whirled back to face Chloe, who had one of her arms around Marinette as the girl leaned into her, “You’re telling me Agreste and you dated for two FUCKING YEARS and he wouldn’t even let anyone know!!? What the FUCK!” Marinette nodded, while Chloe frowned.

“Keep your voice down, Alix, we’re not telling you so you can tell the whole hotel.” Chloe said while she rubbed Mari’s arm in comfort. Marinette sighed, looking up at Alix.

“He… He didn’t want anyone to know because his father had told him to make sure he kept Lila happy in class. Chloe knew, she was the only one I told. He-It-I mean, it was fine for awhile-.” Alix crouched in front of Marinette’s knees, and took hold of her hands, giving her a compassionate, but serious look.

“Marinette, no,” She said, “It’s not fine. For two years, he let Lila hang off of him, kiss him, and generally torture you during school, only to, what? Come and comfort you afterwards?” Hesitantly, Marinette nodded, and Alix swore steam was going to come out of her ears. “Marinette, when someone loves you, they love you all the time, not just when it’s convenient for them.” Alix managed a rueful smile, “It’s too bad you’re straight, or I’d totally take you out and show you how you deserve to be treated.” It worked, and Alix smiled as Marinette laughed, rubbing at her eyes. Chloe scoffed.

“Get in line, Alix; if any woman is taking my Mari-bear out, it’ll be me, thank you.” Alix gave her a grin, winking at the blonde and Chloe laughed.

“You can come too, Chlo. We’ll take our girl out and treat her special.” Alix looked back at Mari who was still laughing, and Alix softened a bit, “I know there are things you still can’t tell me, DC, and that’s ok. I’ve nearly got Kim and Max seeing reason finally. It’s gotten easier now that I just google whatever Lila says, and show it to them.” Her grin was bitter as she shook her smartphone for emphasis, “I’m sorry for how everyone’s been treating you these last few years. It’s like they’re just letting themselves be blinded by that little skank.” Alix wouldn’t lie, she was furious with the rest of their class for just letting these things happen; it was a testament to how exhausted Mari was that she didn’t even reprimand Alix on her words.

Marinette squeezed Alix’s hands, and she looked up at her. Marinette gave her a smile.

“Thank you Alix, but you don’t have to, you know. We’re almost done with school, and then we’ll be off to university. It doesn’t matter that much anymore.” Alix frowned.

“Marinette, you deserve to have the truth known. I don’t really care if they wanted to go their whole lives believing that witch, but it’s hurting you. You were always there for us, hell, you still keep spare clothes for all of them in case they need them! You deserve to have your good name cleared.”

Marinette smiled, but it was sad, and Alix wanted to rage against the world at the sight of it; her friend deserved nothing but the best, and she had been treated so poorly for so long. Alix had learned it didn’t matter if you spoke out, told Lila and Alya what they were doing was wrong; telling Madame Bustier didn’t do anything. Everyone just ignored it, unless they were actively participating.

“Alix, I have you and Chloe, and yeah, it would be nice to be friends with Kim and Max again; but I’m used to this by now. It’s… It’s been 4 years, and while the first one was… rocky, to say the least…” Marinette shared a grimace with Chloe, whose frown deepened at the memory, before she looked back at Alix, “I’ve gotten stronger for it. And if it hadn’t been for Lila, Chloe and I may never have become such good friends, and for that alone, I’m grateful to her.”

Alix grit her teeth as tears welled in her eyes, “But Mari! Alya has hit you! Adrien did nothing! They’ve ruined your sketchbooks, trashed your site, and tried to sabotage your university applications! How could you possibly be ok with any of that?!” Alix was surprised when Marinette’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m not, Alix. It hurt every single time. But what’s done is done, there’s no changing that, and there’s no going back. I can only keep moving forward.” Marinette sighed, giving her a pleased smile, “And I’m not alone, I never am. I have two of the most amazing, trustworthy friends I could ever have at my side, and an invitation to see one of Gotham’s most outstanding universities. Things haven’t been good, or fun, but they won’t stay that way.”

Alix stared at her in shock, and the tears rolled down her face while she hung her head, “We don’t deserve you, Marinette… I’m sorry.” Marinette pulled her up to the couch, and pulled her closer to herself and Chloe.

“Don’t be sorry, Alix. You and Chloe have stuck with me through it all; you’ve spoken out against Lila to defend me countless times. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Next to her, Chloe snorted, “Except for that t shirt, oh my god, where did you even find that horrendous thing?” Alix laughed, and gave Chloe the finger, which caused the blonde to huff.

“Rude.” But Chloe was smiling, and Marinette finally felt peace settle in her heart. Soon, she’d be gone from Lila for good, and everything would be nothing more than just a distant memory. She was fine; she was in a much better place than she used to be, even with her small slip up tonight in the park.

They were going to be ok.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know french, what are they saying?”

Damian had a scowl on his face as they listened, but Jason had noticed how Tim had frozen; his two brothers were the ones who spoke french, damnit, why weren’t they translating? Finally Tim moved, and he buried his face in his hands.

“We shouldn’t have heard this…” Tim said softly, and now Hood was looking between the hotel, and Red Robin in concern. With a sigh, Tim raised his head, staring at the girls in the hotel room who were laughing now. “From what I can infer based on their conversation, Marinette is being bullied, and ignored by most of her class. Based on what these girls are saying, two girls, Lila and Alya, have been terrorizing her in class for - four years, I think they said? Not even her boyfriend would let anyone know they were dating, and he just stood by when this Alya girl hit her.”

Damian’s scowl deepened, and his hands clenched at his side, but Tim wasn’t done.

“And he’d go and comfort her after school, but the only one who knew is the blonde one there, Chloe. Apparently he’d let this Lila girl hang on him during school, and kiss him and junk. These girls have shredded her sketchbooks, trashed her site - whatever that means-, and tried to sabotage her university applications.”

Jason whistled low, “Damn, that’s harsh.” Hood frowned as he looked at the girls having a good time despite the heavy conversation they’d just had. She didn’t seem like the type of girl who deserved all that animosity. “How are we gonna help then, Red?”

The three of them paused as their comms crackled to life, and Bruce’s voice came over the line.

“I’ll take care of it. Come on home; Nightwing will take watch the rest of the night.” Damian watched as Chloe whacked Alix with one of the couch cushions, and an all out war broke out between the girls.

Next to him, Tim sighed, “Got it, Bats. Coming home.”

Jason turned first, and Tim lingered for a moment longer, but Damian was still staring at the girl. She was laughing as she beat her friend over the head with a pillow, the pink one - Alix - retaliating instantly. She looked… happy.

“Robin? You coming?” Damian nodded, and finally he turned away.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

@uGH_WHYME

OH MY GOD GUYS did you see the girl on the news???                                Looks like there could be a new Wayne! #onlyinGotham

#darkhair #blueeyes #mustbeaWayne #gothamites

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Holy shit, and that is chapter one y’all! Just a quick rundown on a couple things. Chloe and Alix are gonna be hella gay, and I can’t wait for you guys to find out who their GFs are gonna be >:3 It’s gonna be GREAT. There will be some minor Adrien bashing, but he will ultimately learn from his fuck ups; mostly cause I love my dumb ass boy, but BOI is he dumb sometimes. Alya bashing will hopefully be minimal cause I DO love her to death.

Also, Chloe is totally getting/got the redemption she deserved GDI. Zagg can shove that S3 finale right where the sun don’t shine. Oh, did I mention there will be salt??? Like TONS OF SALT probably. Also, I probably won’t post super often on tumblr; I’m primarily use Ao3, so things may end up going up faster over there. 

Hope you guys liked it! <3

Part 1 :HERE: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5