#like literally sobbing in my bed for hours punched a wall kinda shit

[illithidprone]

Hi im Sick Still so 🤡

[burnedbyshoto]

Stronger Than You

dabi x parent!reader

warnings: fluff??? idk what this is tbh LOL

word count: 1,100

a/n: so... i kinda really love the todoroki family tbh, dabi is touya fucking fight me. anyways, this sorta broke my heart reading it because im sure the insecurities that run down shoutos veins are only quadrupled in dabi... anon, hello, and i hope i did you justice! enjoy!

Dabi was watching as his four-year-old son, Kyo, as he was running around the backyard of his house. Blue flames expelling from his hands as he was able to use his quirk within approved areas: the backyard, and the backyard only.

“I’m going to be stronger than you, daddy!” His son screams as he twirls around the blue flames that flicker from his body dancing majestically.

Dabi was grateful that Kyo was able to use his quirk without being hurt internally such as himself, a fear he had the moment y/n confessed she was pregnant with their child. But, Dabi was lucky. Y/n had a quirk that returned her body, and others, to homeostasis, so she was basically everything immune, and their son was now able to use his quirk while her quirk kept his body in check.

“Daddy, come PLAY WITH ME!!” His son roared as he had figured out that he could expel flames from his breathe and was effectively scorching the grounds around him.

“I don't see why not.” Dabi agrees as he gets up from his sitting position, stretching his arms as he watches his son charge at him, his y/e/c eyes blazing with fire as he shot towards him. A smile falls on his lips as Kyo head rams into his stomach, and so for the next few hours the two of them exchange blows and Dabi skillfully avoids the disgustingly hot fires of his son.

After playing around for what felt like way too long, Dabi sinks to the floor exhausted. Why did the little squirt have to have so much fucking energy?

“No! I still wanna play!” Kyo shouts as fire sets itself on fire on his head, transforming himself into a literal hot head at the moment.

“Dad is tired, give him a break,” Dabi states as he slumps against the wall, being old really sucked.

“No!” Kyo yells as he goes and grabs Dabi with his chubby fingers.

“Kyo-chan, I said no,” Dabi repeats, raising a single pierced eyebrow.

“And I said no, too!” Kyo is now punching Dabi thinking it would help persuade his equally stubborn dad.

“Stop.”

“You stop!”

“Kyo.”

“GET UP!”

“No.”

Maybe it was because Dabi just wasn’t one to take whining, or because he was exhausted, but the second Kyo set his hands on fire, enveloping Dabi with his blue flames Dabi shoves his son away from him, anger flaring through his veins. It takes a second, but Dabi is now staring at his son who is crying on the ground, his shirt torn and slightly singed, and his heart stops.

“DABI! WHAT THE HELL?!” A voice yells from inside the house, and Dabi can only feel dread consume him as he watches y/n running out, her hands glowing ready to help their sobbing son.

“It’s okay, Kyo-chan, where are you hurt?” Dabi hears y/n coo their son as he groans slightly, regret flooding his veins as he walks over to put a heavy hand on Kyo who is sobbing.

“EVERYWHERE!” Kyo sobs as he points to his butt and Dabi sighs in the slightest relief, at least the most pain he got was from falling, not necessarily from him.

“I’m sorry, little man.” Dabi apologizes as Kyo’s sobs muffle but there’s still the angry aura from his girlfriend, and Dabi glances over at her and her cheeks are puffed. A tendency she had when pissed off.

“Come on, Kyo-chan,” Y/n says, her words sharp, “Let’s go shower, it's almost past your bedtime.”

Dabi could only watch as she lifts their son up from the floor and storms into the house. Dabi feels exhausted as he knows he’s in for some major shit later tonight.

⋆✭⋆✭⋆⋆✭⋆✭⋆

Dabi stands by the doorframe as y/n puts Kyo to bed, a gentle goodnight is whispered and a kiss on his forehead send her out the door, eyes trained on the wall as she skillfully ignores Dabi who enters afterward. Sitting at Kyo’s bedside, Dabi watches as tears mist up in Kyo’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Kyo sniffles as he sits up in bed, his arms wiping away his tears, “I thought we were playing, I-I didn’t mean to make you ma-mad!” He sobs throwing a hug around Dabi’s shoulders, and Dabi feels like melting as he hugs his son back.

“I’m the one who should apologize, Kyo,” Dabi disagrees once his son's sobs fade into gentle gasps for air, “I’m the adult, more importantly, I’m your father, and I shouldn’t have acted that way. I’m sorry for hurting you, I’ll make it up to you later okay? Your father is a terrible man sometimes.”

“You’re not, daddy,” Kyo disagrees as he gazed up at his dad, “You’re a perfect daddy, you play with me all the time, and give me cookies when mommy says no!”

A chuckle escapes Dabi’s throat, but it’s tight with emotion. They stay there for a bit, holding each other.

A soft nod is felt against Dabi’s chest and he plants a kiss onto the top of his head, “Alright, little man, go to bed. I love you.”

“I love you too, big man.” Kyo agreed with a smile as he goes under the covers, his eyes immediately closing as his breathing slows significantly.

Standing up, Dabi heads back to his room where y/n is waiting for him, and he's a bit apprehensive what was going to happen with that.

Sure, you were hot when angry, but it made him uncomfortable nowadays when the anger was because of him.

“I’m sorry,” Dabi apologizes after a few minutes of standing there, as he sees y/n sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone, but unlike before she looks up at him. Emotions running thick through her eyes, and Dabi has no idea what they are yet. “I wasn’t using my head, or whatever.”

Dabi watches as y/n rolls off of the bed and envelopes him into a hug, her fingers gently tracing the outline of his staples and scars on his chest, something he used to feel entirely insecure about, but now something that soothed his heart. “I know you are, and I’m sorry too. You didn’t deserve that reaction from me either, and you’re a great father, Dabi.”

“Did you—“

“Yes, I heard.” Y/n sighs as she presses a gentle kiss to his lips, and Dabi feels weak suddenly, his biggest insecurity was being a horrible father after all. “You’re doing amazing, and you make me so proud every single day. You’re stronger than him, and you will never disappoint us, okay? I love you.”

Dabi smiles as he presses his lips back onto hers. “I love you, too.” He mumbles as the kiss slowly picks up.

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Broken Edges

Get ready for the angst! Part 2 is ready to go because I kinda word vomited and wrote 4k.

Masterlist

Steve Rogers x Reader 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: language, angst, cheating 

******************************************

The diner was brightly lit aided by the help of signature neon signs and harsh fluorescence. What Y/N loved most was the feeling this hole in the wall provided. Strange security. It took her back to happier times allowing her to disappear into a 1950s daydream, the closest to home she had felt in some time. The tile was chipping, the floral wallpaper showing early signs of decay, but she found peace within its barren walls. 

No one knew who she was, just what she ordered, and that was the way she preferred it. Seen but never detected. Noticed but never approached, until he entered the picture.  Y/N was pulled from her thoughts when the waitress gently tapped her shoulder shaking her from current desolation.

“What will it be tonight, honey?”

Y/N glanced towards the glittering name tag; Dolores, before meeting her calm gaze. If Y/N were a betting woman she would say Dolores was somewhere in her mid-fifties, slim build of a mother’s body, brown hair diminishing to gray tightly spun into a delicate bun, and lastly, a glazed smile that didn’t quite reach her charcoal eyes. Y/N mused while taking in the haggard woman standing in her glory. Her age lines meant one of two things; the first meaning she had lived a life full of smiles or a harsh reality that had shown its fading delicacy over the years. Y/N went with the latter option. 

She was an Avengers for god’s sake and she still couldn’t fathom a rhythm or reason for her importance on this planet nonetheless dear ’o’ Dolores. At least, not anymore. He made her question everything, altered her reality in such a vehement way that she wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to the stranger she formerly was.

Y/N mumbled unsure of herself; “Coffee, black. Please.”

A soft sigh slipped through Dolores’s lips as she moved to tuck her ordering pad into her apron; “You can’t survive off caffeine alone darling. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“Thanks for the uh advice, but that’ll be it for now. I’m not.. I’m not feeling very hungry at the moment.”

“Well if you change your mind, just holler my way dear.”

Y/N hesitated before simply nodding as she watched the woman wonder behind the kitchen counter, her attention turning elsewhere.

(Earlier that day)

Tonight, was the night. Excitement electrified throughout her as hopefulness grabbed a hold of Y/N. Her damn cheeks hurt from the inevitable smile that she couldn’t seem to wipe away. Tonight, was the night she was going to tell Steve Rogers she was in love with him. A task easier said than done. 

For the past two years, they trapped themselves in a revolving game of cat-and-mouse. Steve had made himself approachable, caring, and most importantly, interested in what she had to say. At first their friendship grew as any other; spending countless missions by his side, endless inside jokes during movie nights, pouring her cup of coffee every morning. 

It only felt natural when they fell further into each other’s arms. She distinctly also remembered how Steve had lured her into their simple arrangement all while guaranteeing the best of both worlds; friends with benefits. Granted she blindly agreed to be a willing participate if it meant she got to spend those moments with him in hidden whispers and jest. Those times were her absolute favorite, when his Captain America facade faded and he allowed his true colors to blossom. Temporarily suspending his concrete walls and purely living in the moment.  

“Jarvis, what’s the time?”

“Good Evening Y/N. The current time in New York is 6:17pm.”

“Can you tell me, when are Steve and Nat estimated back?”

The computer system came alive and replied; “Mr. Stark arranged Mr. Rogers and Ms. Romanoff to arrive promptly at 6:20pm this evening. Is there anything else I can further assist you with?”

“No, that’ll be it. Thanks Jarv.”

“Have a pleasant evening Ms. Y/N.”

Seven days of radio silence. Seven daunting days without so much a simple hello and Y/N was itching to hear his voice unraveling all impure thoughts in the process. She craved his touch, the press of his body against hers, and finally, to tell him exactly what she had been hiding for so long. 

Minutes ticked away sluggishly turning into hours with no sign of her solider in sight. Strange, she pondered. Y/N hadn’t been completely updated to the delicate details of the mission, but she knew better that Tony would have told her of any last-minute changes. At least she thought as much.

Y/N launched from her comfy spot in bed and made her way to the door. She didn’t bother locking the door behind her knowing full well she would return shortly. Y/N skipped towards the elevator, the red button coming alive as the elevator shifted downwards. The doors closed rapidly behind her as she punched the Quinjet dock lever flying her upwards, further increasing the butterflies in her belly.

As the door opens, Y/N was shocked to see the Quinjet parked and empty. Hmm, maybe Jarvis hadn’t been updated yet. Tony Stark was a man dedicated to two things; Pepper and his work. So much so, the freak designed his lab directly next door so he could be aware of all incoming traffic that left the headquarters. Y/N knew she would find him hunched over his latest obsession and she was never wrong…well most of the time.

Y/N raised her hand to meet the cool steel but Tony startled her already alert of her presence.

“Y/N, come in.”

“How did you--?”

“Tile sensors, I can literally pick up any foot print that steps into this glorious building of mine. Pretty cool, eh?”

“Uh, if you’re into that kinda thing then yeah, yeah I guess.”

He swiveled his chair around meeting her piercing green irises, “But, I don’t think that’s the reason you’ve come. I’m surprised you’re not with Goody Two-Shoes.”

“Whoever do you mean Mr. Stank?”

“Hey now, don’t forget who signs your paychecks and don’t play stupid with me kid. I know about you and Blondie. You’re like an open book kiddo.”

Shock temporarily overcame Y/N wondering just how exactly Tony always knew every secret confined within his walls.

“First- you don’t pay me and second- You are really creepy; you do know that?”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks. State-of-the-art HD cameras all over the joint, and well, you guys are shit about hiding your ‘nightly activities’, if you know what I mean. Wink Wink.”

There was no attempt at hiding the blush that overtook Y/N’s cheeks as she tried to salvage her remaining pride. But with no such luck claimed her.

“Are they home? Did they make it back safely?

“You’re telling me you haven’t seen Cap yet?” Tony’s eyebrows raised slightly seemingly answering his own question.

“No no, not yet.” Her heart accelerated pace as unease slide down her backbone. Something was up and she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Jarvis, buddy. Can you inform me on the whereabouts of Steve and Natasha since arrival?

“Certainly Mr. Stark. Their infrared scans show them in his suite. Shall I alert them of your activity?”

Y/N’s mind was running a mile a minute as she immediately contemplated the worst-case scenario. Steve did always like to finish his report immediately after missions. Maybe she was there to ease the paperwork?

“Nope, that won’t be necessary.” His attention guided back to Y/N as he tried to reaffirm the nervous Avenger in front of him.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That. Overthinking. It’s a dangerous path. Wo-man up and get your man.”

Y/N leaped into his arms hugging him tightly; “Thanks boss man. You really are the best. But, if you ever tell anyone I said that, I will deny it until the day I die. Got it?”

“Anything for you, Y/N.”

With her nerves momentarily in check Y/N found herself instinctively walking towards Steve’s door. Her ears drums pulsated, a slight shake to her fingers as her hand guided into a ball feeling the sooth coldness of metal.

Erogenous moans echoed down the hall just before her knock unhinging her own worst nightmare. Her body switched to auto pilot, simply going through the motions. Before she knew what was fully happening, Y/N pushed his door wide open and blankly stared straight ahead. Nausea churned violently; her throat tightened while the edges of her vision blurred. 

Y/N didn’t realize the tears streaming down her already soaked face.  Her mind riddled with anxiety and numbness. She read many stories of shark attacks and fatal lightning striking, but never in the slightest did she think she would reach such an unfortunate choice of fate. This, this felt similar to drowning, suffocating for air as her inflamed lungs gasped for resolution.

They continued, ignoring their surroundings as Steve slid deeper into Natasha. Her legs tightened around his hips as she dug her manicured nails into his back muscles., pulling him closer to her glistening body.  

“I’m so close. Don’t fucking stop.” Natasha whimpered breathlessly as she clenched around him igniting another groan to escape his lips.

A shock wave zapped Y/N as she stood there unnoticed. She wanted to scream but every sound died on her tongue. This couldn’t be happening. Steve had promised to return to her. And her only. She had a fucking plan. But now, she knew of their repulsive secret. He always made her feel jealous, crazy about being called out for his attraction to Natasha. All to understand, Y/N was rightfully so.

Y/N took two steps back, directly moving out of their line of sight and threw her back against the cool wall. Her hands clamped over her mouth covering her lips. She silently sobbed as she felt her heart crack into sharp, broken edges. All of a sudden, her tears dried up and she felt an emptiness spread inside of her.  

Sometimes you have to accept the fact that there are things that will never go back to how they used to be. We don’t create fantasy worlds to escape reality, we create them to be able to stay. And from that moment on, Steven Grant Rogers was dead to her. And that was her only form of tangible truth.

-------

Requests Open! 

[dekuinthelake]

Happy Birthday Bloodborne

Seeing as it’s the 5th year Bloodborne has graced this mess of a planet with it’s omnipotent light I figured write a little thing about how much the game means to me. I’m going to get fairly personal so if you don’t like that kinda thing feel free to skip.

The first time I beat BB I didn’t think much of it, honestly. I’d had a rather basic playthrough where I didn’t see pretty much any of the optional bosses or do any of the story. I did as Gehrman suggested and just hunted some beasts. I took a break from it for a while and didn’t return to it until my life started getting... Difficult. 

My parents a year prior had gone through a rather turbulent divorce. In the wake of this, my sister and her boyfriend moved in so we could all help my dad pay for his house if only just barely. At the time we all knew even with four of us we didn’t make the type of money to help make payments and the inevitability of him loosing the house was a constant and looming stress. Worse still, my sister only agreed to move in if she was added to the mortgage, meaning she could threaten to sell on a whim, a privilege which she started using to strong arm me and my dad in to behaving a certain way. Her boyfriend was verbally abusive towards everyone, but especially condescending to her. Tension grew between all four of us, but especially between me and the boyfriend. I could ask my sister if she wanted to go out to lunch and catch up and she’d respond, “Let me ask my BF”. His control over her became apparent and the wedges he was intentionally drawing between her and our family was impossible to ignore.

All the while I was working a 4AM shift at a Zoo in the winter and barely getting any daylight or human contact since I had to be in bed so early to wake up for the drive. I cleaned a mile of glass in the dark every day non stop, only to have it be dirtied the moment the park opened. No matter how hard I worked to keep the park as clean as I could, even to the point of putting on dust masks to knock down spider, the higher ups weren’t happy with our companies work. As our contract was rapidly coming to an end, rumors began to circulate that we might not have it renewed if things didn’t improve. Worse still, someone had been stealing from the supply closet. Supposedly only the managers knew the code, and this sparked massive distrust in the Zoo staff towards our department to the point keys were taken away and our lives were made harder by no longer having access to vital shortcuts around the park which made getting from place to place take even longer in the miles long local. 

This futility and rage sparked the most obsessive play through of a game I’ve had to date. Undeniably, these situations were hopeless and lonely, and Bloodborne is a game that understood exactly how I was feeling. The Hunt is, after all, an eternal nightmare. No matter how many beasts, kin, or humans you kill, it’s an unending loop of uncertainty and oppressive danger. The tenuous state of things in Yharnam was uncomfortably familiar. Only in the game, it was far easier to focus on the things I could control.

The weapon I wielded. The stats I chose to upgrade. Which path I wanted to explore. The fluid combat enabled more split second choices every second, helped in large part by a generous stamina bar. More so than Dark Souls, Bloodborne expects you, the player, to take charge. You either commit to an aggressive plan and kill the beasts, or you die. 

When I first started, I played extremely cautiously and likewise did not have a lot of success. On new game +1, however, I began to realize that vital element. Hesitate and you die. Commit entirely and live. The more I played, the more I meditated on the very nature of what this game was communicating to me. 

In my actual life, I hadn’t come out as trans yet and it was something I was viciously debating internally. Earlier that year I tried to commit suicide. I half came out in the hospital, telling the ICU nurses my name was Mike. But even in the psych ward I was terrified to speak to social workers and groups about those feelings... Being that I had 6 hours completely alone and in the dark, it gave me time to listen to a lot of media by trans people. I distinctly remember one video where a trans woman was describing what dysphoria feels like and openly sobbing. I was starting to understand the core of why I hated myself, my body, and my current situation so much. 

But I was afraid. Even after the epiphany that I wanted to come out, I had a lot of doubt on if I could afford HRT, if I could commit to it, and what people would think. I worried starting T and in turn second puberty would bring back my horrible temper that I had going through it the first time. When I say I had rage problem, that’s putting it mildly. I’ve punched people before just for touching me when I was younger, and with the situation between me and my sister’s boyfriend getting more tense by the day I was rightfully concerned it might erupt in to actual physical violence. 

And so... I continued to come home from being alone all to spend most of my time alone playing Bloodborne. It was a great game to keep my mind off of things because of how much focus it demands to play. Funny enough, once you get good at it, the beasts are also a great punching bag.

A lot can be said about how Blood Vials aren’t the best method of healing. Having to stop boss attempts because you need to go farm some red Estus isn’t great design. However, running around that first part of Yharnam with the beast claws just shredding through citizens like a wild animal is possibly the most cathartic thing in my life at the time. It made me feel powerful, unstoppable, and like I was in complete control. I knew exactly how to handle the big pats one by one, and eventually I got skilled enough to just run into that big mob by the tree and stop people anyway because of how good the audio queues are at letting you know when you gotta dodge. I spent hours in both this location AND Chalice Dungeons farming for Echoes and consumables to the point that controlling my character in Bloodborne feels as natural as walking. 

I started beating the game faster and faster. I was on +5 difficulty and working on the DLC by myself when things escalated... 

At this point, I knew staying at my dad’s house wouldn’t be possible. The verbal fights between me and my sister were getting more and more prevalent. More than that, I knew it was time to come out and I didn’t feel secure doing that in an environment that was actively hostile. The plan was to save up, move out with two friends... But moving out came far faster than I had anticipated. 

A few days after my birthday, we had a family meeting. I don’t remember what sparked it, but we all sat around and voiced our complaints with each other. When it was my turn to speak, I brought up the fact my sister’s boyfriend had been intentionally isolating her on top of in general just being a jackass to her. He’d make her get things for him, call her stupid when they played games... The works. I don’t remember what he said that sparked it, but I remember the feeling... A really familiar feeling I hadn’t had in years. My pulse thundered in my neck so hard I couldn’t hear anyone over it. I started yelling incoherent shit. My sister stood in front of him because I was aggressively stepping forward. It was that temper I thought I’d knocked coming back. If she hadn’t gotten in the way, I’m absolutely sure I would have pummeled that man. I hadn’t felt that way since I strangled a kid in school to the point he nearly passed out.

 It was then I knew I had to leave. By nature, I’m violent. I hate it. But the decisiveness which I’d slowly been building helped me find the courage to admit this.

I took off in my car and just hauled ass to the highway. I had a bloodborne CD I’d been playing on my way to and from work. It sounds silly, but larping I was just a hunter during those crushing morning shifts was helping me keep going. Sure it was hopeless, but I felt bad ass to keep trying. I needed to have an unbreaking will to deal with this dilemma. Having so recently made a second attempt to kill myself, I had this powerful urge that no matter what I couldn’t end up there again. So, I decided not to beat myself up about it and just accept that I had to move on and away from what little family I had left.   I remember not really thinking words. I listened to Gehrman’s music on repeat with the windows rolled down going 78 miles an hour and just... Screaming. Literally screaming as loud as I could in to the night. Over and over again until it hurt just to breathe. 

Even though I felt betrayed by the people I thought were closest to me there wasn’t anything I could do but endure. 

Eventually I arrived my current roommate’s parent’s place where they were living at the time. I told her and her husband what happened. We went to the store for something. I got a call from my dad saying my sister was threatening to move out and apparently had yelled at him for not keeping me in line despite the fact at one point he’d physically gotten up and started yelling in my face to calm down. That was it. I asked my friend’s parents if I could move in temporarily and... That was that. 

The next day we gathered up all my things. I had to leave my dogs which was possibly the most agonizing part. 

But that night? I beat the orphan of Kos by myself on +5 on my computer monitor plugged in the wall and set on a box. Doing that was this weird extreme elation. It’s like I’d defeated two massively difficult, seemingly impossible tasks in one day. I’m glad I had help with the moving, though. Unlike Kos, that would have been impossible alone haha.

That weekend passed and I went back to work at the Zoo as normal. After I finished my shift, however, every employee in my company was called to a meeting. This was it. We all knew what was coming. We were to be laid off in December, giving us 3 months to find new work or apply to the company that was taking over the contract. 

In the wake of this news, moral plummeted. No one really tried that hard. I was coming in high to work every day and drinking with a coworker during our shift while we tired our best to continue work. That last month I worked there was a weird drug addled haze of extreme emotions mixed with ignoring them in favor of listening to VaatiVidya lore breakdowns of Bloodborne. 

I was going home and spending hours on art inspired by the general vibe of the game and my impossible to digest feelings. I’d lost my job, home, and family. I don’t know if I would have survived without both Bloodborne and my art as an outlet.

In the following months, I had gotten to New Game +7 and started recording myself trying to kill bosses without healing. Even though to this day no one watches these attempts but me, making them was frankly vital to keeping me distracted and focused on something I could control. 

There was a time where I didn’t think Ludwig +1 was beatable but... Here I am two years later happily having 100% Bloodborne and beaten every boss on +7, most of them without even needing to heal. 

The biggest lesson I took away from this game was persistence and decisiveness. The Souls series in general made me realize something huge that to this day has helped me fight my depression back. I’m a stubborn fuck who will grind and grind and grind until I finally achieve victory.

Fight for the progress you want to make. Things seem hopeless a lot, but you have to keep going. With effort, you can change anything you want to in your life.

Two years later, I’ve been doing HRT for 1 year and 3 months. I just had top surgery done. I’m working a job I like that’s got normal daytime hours and pays more than any work I’ve ever had with benefits. I don’t think I would have had the tenacity to stick to these things without realizing a fundamental aspect about my personality thanks to the help of Bloodborne specifically. 

I can endure, learn, grow, adapt. 

Thank you, Fromsoft. I hope this conveys a shred of what this dumb little game means to me. I needed Bloodborne so much when I moved out. I’m so glad it exists.

[holylulusworld]

Never too late…

Summary: Love hurts…it’s always been that way. Especially when you are in love with the wrong man.

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam, OMC Jeremy

Warnings: language, angst, smut, protected sex, oral (female receiving), fingering, virgin reader, loss of virginity, mentions of rape (implied; nothing explicit), possessive Dean (a bit)

Before it’s too late … Masterlist

Two months later…

“I can go alone, Dean. I’m not a child!”

“No, no. You want to visit that bastard! I won’t leave you alone with that monster!”

“I want to ask him why he…I need to know Dean. I need to know why he hurt me and thought so low of me that he thought I deserve to have my first time on the dirty ground behind a restaurant. I just need to know…he seemed so nice.”

“You can ask him those entire questions but I will come with you.” Dean insists.

“Do you want to hold my hand too?”

“If you want me to.”

“That was a joke, Winchester. You’re such a mother hen!”

“I’m just worried, okay. I will come with you and I will hold your hand with pleasure.”

Searching his face you know he’s serious. Odd. Since months Dean refuses to let you go somewhere alone. You’re not able to leave the bunker without him by your side. He seems to play your personal bodyguard.

“Fine. You can come with me but you don’t need to hold my hand,” you scold and his face falls.

Letting out a deep sigh he looks at his hands.

“But you could hold my hand…if you want to.”

Giving you a heart-melting smile he eagerly nods at you. Eyes rolling you grab your stuff to run toward the Impala.

“Wait up, kiddo!” Dean chuckles.

“Dean…” Sam warns.

“Huh?”

“No funny business!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Sammy. I’m only helping a friend. I can’t let her enter the prison by herself. All those perverts. I don’t want her to be alone with that bastard.”

“Sure, Dean and I’m a cheerleader,” Sam chuckles.

“Oh, you are a cheerleader? Do you have pompoms too?”

“Seriously, don’t hurt her. If you can give her what she needs, don’t go any further. I mean it, Dean, she deserves happiness.

“I know, Sammy. I want to give her all she needs.

“If it gets too intense with that bastard.”

“I’ll rip him into pieces if he moves the wrong muscle.”

“You need to stay cool…for Y/N.”

“I know. I will try to control my temper. I swear.”

-----

“Agents. You can go in now and ask him some questions. Good thing we caught him. That guy is responsible for three rapes in the last year.” The guard explains.

“Oh, we didn’t know that,” you whisper.

“Well, the cops took his DNA and found three open cases. The DNA matched perfectly. He will get arrested for a long time. That asshole played the nice guy. After one or two dates, he raped the girls. One of the victims barely survived. He punched her jaw, she fell backward and hit her head. Even knowing she’s injured he raped her,” the guard explains.

“Bastard!” Dean grunts.

“Well, he has a huge fan club in here. The inmates really like him.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Let’s say one of the inmates got to know that one of the girls was underage when he attacked her. She was barely 16 back then. Our inmates are no angels but they don’t like men touching innocent girls.”

“I still don’t know why he has a fan club…” you wonder.

“I guess what the guard wants to tell us is that the other inmates gave him some of his own medicine, right?”

“Correct, Agent.” The guard says with a grin on his face.

“Wait…oh…” You say eyes widen.

“We should hurry and you can ask him some questions,” Dean whispers.

-----

“You! This is all your fault! Do you know what happened to me in here? You bitch!” Jeremy yells and curses.

“I guess karma bit you in the ass. Literally.” Dean snickers.

“I should’ve never wasted my time with you. The other chick was much hotter but she was busy licking into your friend’s mouth. Why are you here you worthless bitch?”

“I wanted to know why you did what you did. But I already know the answer, you’re a monster. You did this before and you would’ve done it more often if Dean didn’t stop you. Everything that happened to you in here isn’t enough. You are a monster.”

“You should thank me! At least one man wanted to fuck your uptight virgin pussy. Do you think you will get someone better than me?”

“You son of a bitch, I’ll kill you,” Dean curses already jumping out of his chair.

“No, Dean. Let’s go. I don’t know why I came here. That was a waste of time. He’s a monster. We don’t analyze the other monsters too much. We find them and take them down. That’s what we did here too.”

Taking your hand in his Dean leads you out of the interrogation room. Almost holding his breath, he watches your sad face.

“Don’t let this get to you. He’s an asshole. You deserve much better, Y/N.”

“He’s right. Do you know why I’m still…a virgin?”

“No, no. That’s too private.”

“Every time I liked a guy and thought…uh…well…let’s do it he rejected me. High school, college…you…every time I feel brave enough to tell someone how I feel he rejects me. That’s the reason…No one ever wanted me, Dean.”

“Hey, that’s not true!”

“It is. Let’s drive back to the motel. I’m exhausted and only want to sleep some hours until we drive back to the bunker. This was a waste of time and energy.”

-----

“Was the shower good?” Dean asks looking at your half-naked form. Only wearing a scratchy towel you shrug your shoulders.

“At least I could wash off the stink…but not his words,” you whisper.

“Please don’t believe no man ever wanted you. I wanted you…always…”

“Dean, stop talking to me like I’m a stupid child. Don’t pity me, okay. I don’t need this right now. I feel bad enough. Your pity makes it even worse. Why don’t you go and find your latest flavor?” You mutter.

“I don’t want another flavor! I only want to taste you! Uh…that sounded kinda creepy…”

“Don’t act like I would turn you on! Was that Sam’s idea to make me feel better?”

“No…Sammy told me to not try any funny business but I need to tell you I always wanted you. Please let me show you how beautiful you are to me.”

“Can we stop pretending that you give a shit about my feelings? You showed me how you really think about me months ago. Rejecting me was one thing. I never thought you would feel the same…I didn’t expect that you fall in love with me but you hurt me on purpose! That’s what you did…you were cruel some.” You sob.

“It was my way to keep you away from me. I’m like a death sentence, Y/N. Being with me. Loving me…being loved by me means death.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s the reason you lived with Lisa. The reason you told Cassie about hunting…but you are right both are dead. No wait, they are alive!”

“Lisa barely made it out alive! Castiel saved her just in time!”

“I’m a hunter. I know what’s out there. Don’t lie. You rejected me as I’m not what you want. I’m not sexy. I don’t wear short dresses or smear make-up on my face. I’m not pretty…neither am I beautiful.”

“You are beautiful, dammit. Let me love you!” Dean yells before crushing his lips onto yours. Hands moving into your hair he presses you against the wall. His demanding tongue invades your mouth while your knees go weak.

“You don’t love me.” You mutter against his lips.

“Shut up and let me love you,” Dean insists.

One swift motion and your towel is gone. Fully naked you want to hide your modesty. Face crimson you look for something to wear.

“Don’t hide. I want to see all of you, Y/N. Let me see all of you, please.”

“You don’t want to see someone like me naked. My scars and I’m not sure about my breasts…”

“They are fucking sexy. You are fucking gorgeous…and mine. No one else can ever see you like that. Only me.” Dean states kissing you once again. This time he takes his time. Slow and gently he presses his lips against yours. His hands are in your hair. Holding you in place.

When he finally breaks the kiss you are a mess. Weak knees, kiss-swollen lips, and panting…

His rough hands move under your ass to pick you up. Out of instinct, you move your legs around his waist only to feel his hard cock pressing against your core.

Your eyes widen when he ruts against you with a cocky grin on his face.

“Uh…Is this some kind of pity fuck?”

“If you ever say something like that again I will slap your ass and you won’t ride shotgun for a while.”

“But look at you and then look at me.”

“I want to do more than just looking!” With that, he lies you down onto the bed. His hard body presses you into the mattress. Tilting his head, he flicks his tongue around your nipples and you let out an audible moan.

“Keep on doing this and I’ll embarrass myself and come in my pants,” Dean warns.

“What?”

“Fucking sexy. Don’t hold back when I’m inside of you. I want to hear every fucking noise you can make.”

“I…uh…”

Lips sealed around your hardening nub Dean sucks and slightly bites at it. Satisfied with his work he gives your other nipple the same treatment.

In the mood to play, he kneels between your legs. Kneading your breasts, he groans.

“Look at your perfect breasts. Those are mine now. No one else can touch those.”

“But what about me? I need to touch them…” You giggle.

“No, no. I’ll do it.”

Raising an eyebrow you watch him kissing down your stomach. His eyes are focussed on your mound. Planting a soft kiss to it he moves his fingers through your wet folds. Diving his tongue into your pussy he growls against you.

“Dean…uh…What?”

“No one ate you out before?”

Shaking your head you can see the surprise on his face.

“Fuck, mine. All mine.”

Knowing no one made you come like that before Dean starts eating you out like a man starving. His lips wrapped around your little nub he sucks and licks until you start whimpering.

Close to your first high you tug at Dean’s hair right before you scream his name. Not waiting for you to calm down he circles one finger over your entrance.

Wet fingers slowly pushing into you. The intrusion doesn’t hurt only the stretch is uncommon for you. Gently stroking your walls Dean searches for your g-spot.

Seeing your squirm under his touch he knows he found what he was looking for.

Rubbing, stroking and circling he moves his fingers inside your slick channel. Fisting the sheets, you buck your hips toward his fingers when you pulse around his digits.

“So, beautiful when you come for me. No one else can see you like that, only me,” Dean rasps stills stroking your walls.

Finally retreating his fingers, he licks them clean with a low growl. Chewing you lip you watch him undress.

His body is firm but he has soft spots too. Like his tummy. The little freckles cover almost his whole body. Letting your eyes roam his body they land on his huge cock and you get nervous.

“We will make it fit. I won’t hurt you, only make you mine.”

“How shall that monster fit?” You ask.

“Don’t worry. You can take me, Baby. Believe me. You will take me.”

Rummaging in his bag Dean grabs a condom. Slowly crawling back on the bed he kneels between your still spread legs. Sitting on the bed you get braver. Touching his cock carefully with one finger you giggle when it bobs.

Giving you a smile full of adoration he kisses your cheek softly. He never was with someone so innocent before.

“Do you want me? We can stop if you don’t want me, Y/N.”

One hand grabbing his neck you kiss him roughly. Your other hand wraps around his cock to stroke the impressive ‘monster’.

“I guess this means you want mean…”

“Hmmm…”

Opening the package of the condom Dean rolls it over his dick. Carefully lining himself up with you entrance he pushes only the tip in. Eyes closed you feel the wide stretch it’s uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt too much.

Slowly moving back and forth Dean pushes further in with every thrust. After what feels like hours he’s finally able to bottom out.

Finally balls deep he rests his forehead against yours. Your walls squeeze and pulse around his dick and he tries so hard not to come right now.

“Fuck, you so tight. I…god, Baby. You feel perfect around me.” He whispers against your lips.

“You were right. We made it fit,” you say laughing.

“Does it feel good or am I hurting you?”

“I feel a light pressure and I can feel your…ahem…cock twitch. But I don’t feel too much pain.”

“Not too much? I’m hurting you.”

“No, please. I want you to move. Make me feel good. Make me forget about him. I want you.”

Smiling he kisses you softly. One hand gently placed behind your back and the other caressing your lips with his thumb Dean starts moving.

The dragging of his cock against your walls is an indescribable feeling. Almost hitting your cervix he thrusts into you in a slow and even pace.

Hips rolling against yours he starts kissing you again. A strange feeling is spreading through your lower abdomen.

Moving your hands around his back you hold tight onto Dean for dear life. He’s moving faster now, thrusting harder. Almost pumping into you he groans against your lips. The twitching of his cock gets stronger while your toes start to curl.

“I…Dean. I think…” Screaming you dig your nails deep into his flesh. A loud growl leaves his lips when you do so.

Not able to hold back any longer when your pussy is almost choking his dick Dean pounds harder into you. Loud noises leave your lips when you feel the coil snap again. This time you scratch your nails down his back and he comes with a loud shout of your name.

“Fuck. Do that every time.” Dean groans.

“What?”

“Your nails…that’s…I love it.”

“Kinky?”

Chuckling at your words Dean gently pulls out of you. After tossing the condom in the bin he wraps his arms around you to bring you onto his chest.

“Was that okay? Do you feel good?”

“Yeah. That was more than okay, Dean.” You whisper.

“So we can do this again. I mean…like every night?”

“You want to do it every night?”

“With you? Yes. I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I saw you so late.”

“Dean, when you love someone it’s never too late…”

THE END

Before it’s too late Tags

@the-obsessive-fangirl, @voltage-my2dlove , @hiraethclaire

Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22 , @curly-haired-disaster-deactivat, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana15, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @anushay1998, @voltage-my2dlove, @wayward-gabriel, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags        

@spnfamily-thewinchesters, @love-my-not-natural-babies, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @mirandaaustin93​, @hawaiianohana15, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen​, @x2closebut2farx​, @janicho88​, @thefaithfulwriter​, @dreaminemz​, @negans-lucille-tblr​, @sadwaywardkid​, @akshi8278​, @hhiggs​

[relucant]

i am legit so terrified my mother is going to give herself a stroke before i escape in a week. and because she cares about nothing except her own anxiety and the cat, despite my begging her in literal tears to help put a plan in place for what happens to my father if that does happen, to the shock of no one, she has done zero to make that happen even a little.

i mean, the cat is sick, which obviously puts her even more on edge than always -- i love the cat more than life itself and i would take a bullet for him in an instant, but he is pretty much her therapy animal and the only thing keeping her even remotely tethered to this earth. and he’s 11, and has liver problems, so yeah. it’s scary. but like, it’s also basically textbook UTI -- which last week at the vet, even before he started feeling sick, the vet was like “i’m going to go ahead and test him for a UTI, i think it might be possible.” i hate it when people are like “oh, it’s okay, he’ll be fine!” because maybe he won’t be, and that’s terrifying, but also like... the cat’s having some intestinal ickiness and doesn’t feel good isn’t quite apocalyptic yet.

and my father is garbage to be in the same room as, absolutely, but like... there’s also ways to cope somewhat with him, and she just is in such a constant spiral of literally paralytic anxiety that she just... won’t do absolutely anything to make her life slightly less miserable even it requires changing her behavior even a tiny bit.

“he just... he just came in here earlier, and just, i had all the magazines stacked up on the chair, and he just picked them up and threw them on the bed!” okay yeah, because he’s an asshole with dementia, but like, can you tell him not to do that? “stop attacking me!”

having a full-on panic attack, sucking in breaths, finally gasping out, “he- he came in here, and he said he was going to do laundry!” while bursting into full sobbing. “he- he can’t do his laundry! he doesn’t use bleach, and he- he just throws his underwear full of shit into the laundry!” yeah dude, that’s fucking awful. but erupting in earsplitting shrieks of “NO YOU CAN’T FUCKING WASH YOUR UNDERWEAR YOU HAVE A PAIR BECAUSE I JUST FUCKING CHECKED” well, have you considered, “no, don’t, they need to be bleached, i’ll do it tomorrow.” 

obviously, “calm down” has never made any situation better in the entire history of anything, ever. and her situation sucks. mine is probably worse in the immediate, because i have two parents who don’t know or care that, like, i’m a human being and not their maid/emotional support punching bag, respectively, but i have a way out, and she doesn’t, so that’s awful. and it’s going to be awful, at least until he dies, but again, like, it doesn’t have to be absolutely, intentionally as horrifying awful as it can possibly be, because making anything a little better would require her, like, doing something.

i keep trying to get on her case about looking into, like, actually getting treatment for her crippling anxiety disorder, even though i’ve been on this futile merrygoround for at least a decade and the circle never changes, because she’s so wrapped up in her cocoon of anxiety i don’t think she wants it to change.

every single time i bring up the possibility of just talking to someone about how bad it is -- like, i dunno, her shrink to start with, who it’s a miracle i even finally got her to go to that even, and i am dubious she’ll continue after i leave, even though she likes her shrink and also her shrink will come to the house, or even just her GP, who she also likes -- she just immediately reverts into, like, “well, maybe i should just start taking my xanax every day again.” no like, dude, that’s like... not a treatment for chronic anxiety. “well it says anxiety on the bottle.” yes. for like... a plane trip.

this exact back and forth has happened probably 50+ times, and she just deletes it and reuses it over and over.

“but -- but i don’t want to quit drinking! i can’t, not right now with what’s going on!” like honestly fair enough, that train has left the station. so like... okay, don’t. if you go to a doctor who refuses to treat you unless you quit drinking, like... go to a different doctor. i asked my shrink, and she’s kinda like yeah, obviously, drinking isn’t great on psych meds, but for most anxiety meds, it mostly just decreases their effectiveness (and don’t drive, which she doesn’t anyway), not kill you, and still probably better than nothing.

and then after the xanax response, and then the drinking response, she just shuts down any further attempt at the conversation and starts crying about whatever asshole thing my father last did, which she completely did not in any way at any time ask or tell him to, like, not do that. until she’s so upset she starts banshee shrieking at him for doing a thing she never once told him not to do. (or vice versa)

and i realized the other night that what gets to me so much (among a million other things) is like... the exact shitty ways he behaviors towards her, and that she comes sobbing to me about, are like... unsettlingly similar to ways she behaviors towards me, if in different ways.

like, come into her room, sit down, talk blankly at her about stupid shit and then get annoyed when she tries to actually respond? kiiinda like every time she comes into my room, sits down, complains to me about the exact same thing she complained about last night, and then gets upset when i try to have a back and forth conversation.

“he just -- he just says the same thing, over and over! five times in the last two days if we have money for the gardener! he’s asked me twice today what the baby’s name is! he told me three times he’s going to go get the mail! it’s like talking to a r*tarded toddler!” (excuse that word, not sure how to rephrase)

yes mom, and that’s the 10th time this week you’ve said it’s like talking to a toddler, and i’ve said yes, it is like talking to a toddler, because he has dementia, he cannot form new memories, and two minutes later you just wail that it’s like talking to a toddler, again.

and the cycle continues, because i know perfectly well it’s as pointless to think there’s any chance of her making any significant changes in her behavior or grasp on her mental health, any more so than my father whose brain is nearly chewed up and spat out by now. but she’s still in there just enough that i can’t help feeling like i could almost get through to her if i could figure out how. and when she’s not near my father, like when we were up in new jersey with my brother and sister in law and baby nephew, her anxiety abated to the point that lke, yeah, she still had a meltdown when faced with like, a single step, despite being surrounded by three able-bodied adult humans, but overall, mentally, was like at like 70% a fairly normal elderly woman, kinda dotty but doting on her grandchild and puppies and basking in at least one of her children turning out with an apple pie life (about 15 years later, but still pretty perfect). and so i’m haunted by all the what-ifs, what if she can just survive until my father dies and she’ll be okay, so maybe i can still help, so maybe i should keep trying, even though i know, i know, i know.

and i try to keep in mind that it’s also easier for me because, like, my father more or less likes me, as a person -- i don’t think he’s ever loved me, or is capable of love (except for our pets, which honestly is a fairly big redeeming factor, i suppose) but he thinks i’m interesting, and my brother, and that if he was manipulated into having kids by whatever the hell he used to do, his resentment of our existence is tempered somewhat by the fact that he’s kinda pleased with how we turned out, and i have one or two pleasant memories of sitting on the trunk of his old car as a small child pointing out the pleiades, or drunkenly reciting ts eliot on the kitchen floor. my mother does not get that leeway; he thinks (or acts, at least) that since he did his duty and got married and procreated, her entire existence should be devoted to his convenience -- not even comfort, just convenience, and making herself exist as little as possible.

which plays into the cycle again because then i, unfairly, resent my mother for that more than him, because it genuinely did not occur to me even as a precocious kid that fathers were supposed to, like, love their children until i was at least in middle school if not later; it still jars me sometimes, bitterly, when i see dads who are just like in love with their kids. but my mom was my mom, so as it became clear that she never actually wanted to, like, parent anyone either, she’s the one my hurt and pissiness channels to.

anyway if anyone actually read all of this, i know i say the same shit over and over about this, but it’s so complicated not many of the few people i talk to one on one know what’s going, and i don’t want to over-vent, but i feel like i’m about to claw my skin off with the anger and frustration and regret, so thanks.

in a funny-scary sign-off, so i finally convinced my mother to get a mini-freezer so i can stock it full of real food before i bounce to eurasia next week, and it came today; instructions said to let it sit for a few hours after getting it in place before plugging it in, so i hauled it into a convenient dining room corner and forgot it. fast forward i come out to the kitchen to check on the huge vat of minestone soup i’m making and my father is lumbering triumphantly out of the kitchen pantry with a frayed probably 40 year old extension cord in his hand.

i blink at him, immediately concerned. he’s like, “i think i’ll go ahead and hook up that new... thing-a-ma-jig! ‘cause the thing on the plug, it’s got the three things [prongs], but the things in the walls, they’ve only got the two things! so i’m gonna just go ahead and plug it in here!”

i’m like, “NONONONONONONO!” because like (a) common sense and (b) the manual was specifically like do not do NOT use an extension cord, and if you MUST make ABSOLUTELY SURE it has these EXACT SPECIFICATIONS and is IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM SOME DECREPIT CORD-SNAKE YOU DUG OUT OF THE DUSTY BOWELS OF YOUR KITCHEN PANTRY (i may have exaggerated that last bit). he’s like what?? i explain that to him, in fewer words, and that i in fact have an adapter specifically to convert two-prong to three-prong.

he’s mystified, demands explanation of how that works; i try to elaborate, that i put the two prong end in the wall and plug the freezer into the three-prong end, and just blank looks. “well i don’t think that’s going to work, i think we should just use this.” i just kinda take it, tell him i’ve got it under control, ignore his aggrieved hissing, and walk away.

i go to tell my mom this, because like gallows humor or gtfo i guess -- she’s like jesus even i realize that’s not a good idea -- and only then do i realize that the extension cord he had so proudly produced was in fact a two prong... to a two prong. so either he didn’t notice that, or more likely, just intended to jam the two prongs into the extension cord and just leave the third prong kinda just... out.

and it’s sad as hell, because dude was an electrical engineer who worked at the absolute cutting-edge of the aerospace industry, like literally worked on apollo 11 at cape canaveral and dementia has eaten his brain to the point he doesn’t understand plugs. but. sometimes you take the laughs where you can get it.

anyway one week one day from right now my plane takes off so please can just like (a) my cat (b) my mother and (c) my father hang on that long (in that order) until i have enough distance to get my fucking head on straight again for a tiny little bit.

[fatbottombucky]

No Kissing In Front Of Me *Steve Harrington x Reader*

Requested by Anon: Steve Harrington x Reader where you’re Dustin’s older sister and Dustin has Steve over to babysit him bc Reader is supposed to be out on a date but she comes home like halfway through with like super ready eyes and tells them she found out he’s cheating on her because he stood her up to go with the other girl or something Pairings: Dustin Henderson x Sibling! Reader & Billy Hargrove x Reader (Mentioned briefly) & Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count:  A/N: I couldn’t be bothered to make up a name for the reader to possibly be on a date with. Billy is someone that comes across as a cheating, maybe not taking the relationship with reader seriously, type. - Rosalie

“Why are you even going out with that jackass?” Dustin asked, watching you through the vanity mirror reflection as you got ready for your date. You muttered a soft ‘language’ to your little brother who just scoffed. “You can date anyone, literally, ANYBODY! But you go out, willingly, with Billy Hargrove?”

You sighed gently as you finished with your make up. You had been going out on a few dates with the new guy, well he wasn’t new anymore, he and his sister had been here for a few months. You didn’t really get why Dustin and his party hated him, he was kind of an asshole but so was everyone else in this town. Dustin always said, ‘There are just things that I know that you don’t, I don’t trust him’. You liked he was looking out for you but you’re the older sibling, it should be the other way round.

“Why do you hate him so much? Enough with the bullshit, what happened to make you hate him?” Dustin shrugged, shoulders slumped and eyes cast to his hands as he toyed with your comforter on your bed. “I’m going on that date, Dustin. Whatever you think of him isn’t true, he’s been nothin’ but nice to me. He doesn’t pressure me for anythin’ and he’s really sweet too. Tell me what happened and I won’t go on that date, if you tell me what happened with Billy I’ll call him off.”

Before Dustin can even open his mouth the doorbell chimes, you raise your eyebrows but Dustin sighs. You both stand up, you’re dressed in a pale pink dress with a denim jacket thrown on. Dustin opens the door, revealing Steve Harrington, his babysitter for the night, plus a new founded best friend. It was cute, how both he and Steve had a brotherly bond. They looked out for one another, it made you smile to see Dustin finally have someone to look up to, admire and Steve was someone that you trusted to lead your brother in a good direction.

You smiled as Steve looked at you. “Wow, Y/N, you look… wow.” He compliments, at loss for words and it brings a slight blush upon your cheeks as you roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, I’ll see you both in a few hours. Don’t miss me too much,” You grin waving bye at both of them and walking out of the door.

*Steve’s P.O.V kinda*

Steve stared at the door as it closed softly, watching you leave to go on a date with Billy Hargrove always rubbed him the wrong way. Knowing that someone as kind, sweet and genuinely good was hanging around with the asshole Billy, made Steve feel sick to his stomach. His blood boiled at the thought of it, it left a funny after taste in Steve’s mouth whenever you talked about your dates with Billy.

“Steve!” Dustin’s voice pulled Steve from his mind and he looked at the shithead and shrugged his shoulders in response. “Jealousy back again?”

Steve rolled his eyes and sat down, Dustin had got into his pea-sized brain that Steve was jealous. Jealous that Billy got to date you and not him, which was ridiculous. Steve Harrington doesn’t get jealous, he doesn’t even know why he’d be jealous. It’s just you. Dustin’s older sister. Who was sweet, kind and beautiful, who had this thing where if she laughs too hard she hiccups?

“I’m not jealous of Billy Hargrove,” Steve states, turning the TV on and looking at the VHS movies that Dustin had picked to watch tonight. “What do I have to be jealous about?”

Dustin rolled his eyes, sitting down also. “Are you pretending to be dumb or are you actually this stupid all of the time?” That receives a stern glare from Harrington, “I know she’s my sister but I am told constantly that she’s beautiful, plus she has to be somewhat good looking because ” Dustin gestures to his smiling face and Steve tries not to chuckle at that. “It’s okay if you like-like her, better you than Billy.”

Steve puts in the movie and that leaves him to think over what Dustin has said. He glances at Dustin who is consumed by the movie, mouth slightly agape as he fully zoned in on the SyFy movie. Steve had grown accustomed to life with the kids, looking after the little shits was now just second nature to him. You were sort of a package deal, you didn’t know about any of the events with the upside down world but you managed to still be part of their lives. You were sort of an innocence that everyone loved, you knew something has happened but you preferred to not know.

It’s for the better that way. Steve liked that you weren’t carrying any of the weight, that you managed to still be a supportive person but in a way that was different for everyone. It was hard to keep that life away from you, it’s partly why he hates you are dating Billy. If you knew what had happened, you wouldn’t be dating him but he had made a promise. To the boys, to Eleven, to Hopper and Joyce to not tell.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I dated Y/N?” Steve asked, eyes trained on the TV. “I know she’s dating Billy but if that didn’t work out-”

“Steve, you have my permission to date my sister. No kissing in front of me, that’s all I ask.” Steve smiles slightly and both go back to watching the movie, halfway in when the front door crashes open. “Son-of-a-bitch!” Dustin yells, turning his head to see his sister standing in the doorway, he holds his hand over his heart.

It takes both boys a few seconds to realise you’re crying. Eyes red, small sobs escaping your lips and you throw your purse to the floor and pull off your shoes, running past them towards your room ignoring their yells of your name. Steve looks at Dustin who is just as shocked as he is by your outburst.

“You don’t think Billy…” Dustin trails off, instantly Steve is to his feet and Dustin follows him down the short hall to your door where Steve knocks on the door. “Y/N, we’re coming in!” Dustin yells, knowing you never lock your door anyway.

Steve opens the door silently and both peak in. Your laying on your bed, hair a mess of curls and crying into a pillow. Dustin walks passed Steve, sitting down beside your head and petting your hair softly, trying to comfort you silently. Steve awkwardly sits down, placing a hand on the small of your back and rubbing comforting circles. They wait till your sobs had quieted down, listening to cry was one of the worst things Steve has endured. Yeah, he’s had to fight demogorgons but this was another level.

“Y/N, what happened?” Steve asked and you lifted your head, hair sticking your tear stained cheeks that are red and blotchy. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, anger swept through them but also sadness. “Did Billy… do something… like-”

“No.” You shake your head, fresh tears welling in your eyes. “He turned up with another girl, with Stacy. He’s been seeing her behind my back, cause I wasn’t putting out.” Dustin's face flashed with anger. “I’m such a stupid shit head!” You groaned, accepting the hug from your little brother and Steve scoffed, causing both Henderson siblings to look at him.

Steve shakes his head. “Billy is the shithead. You deserve better than him, got it? A guy like that isn’t worth your tears, you’re too good for him. If he can’t keep it in his pants that’s his fault, not yours.” You raised your eyebrows at Steve, who crossed his arms and glared at the wall opposite him. “I should punch him in the face again for doing that to you.”

“Again?” You asked slightly amused that he had even punched Billy for the first time. Dustin looks wide-eyed at Steve who does the same, you sighed. “Need to know, right?” They nod and smiled slightly. “Thank you, both of you for being here. I think I’m going to call it a night.” They nod, Dustin gets up and leaves the room first but Steve hesitates, making you look at him slightly confused.

He shuffles slightly nervously. “Y/N… have a good sleep.” Steve sighs before leaving your room, kicking himself for not saying anything to you about his true feelings.

*

It had been almost a week since that godawful date with Billy. You tried to keep yourself occupied, extra schoolwork and hanging out with Nancy. The humiliation of that day was what hurt you the most, Billy had let you believe the date was still on, he didn’t cancel or say anything about what was happening with Stacy. He let you walk in, alone and see him with another girl like he planned it or something.

Walking down the street towards your house you hear arguing. Well, more of bickering between two people. You glance up to see Steve and Dustin in the driveway of your home, Dustin was meant to be at Mike’s studying and Steve, well he was meant to be off being Steve somewhere else- having a day off from being the kid's mom. You frown as you walk closer, Steve is holding roses and Dustin has his radio headset on, seemingly talking over it whilst simultaneously walking to Steve.

“What’s going on?” You asked walking closer, Dustin jumps slightly and turns to you with a nervous smile. “I thought you were going to Mike’s tonight?” You asked with a slight frown at his reaction.

It’s a solid minute before anyone speaks up. “I’m helping Steve… he’s got a date.” You nod slowly and glance at Steve, who is nervously stood holding the roses and smiling awkwardly. A pang of something shoots through your chest, whoever he was taking on a date was a lucky girl.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, “Well, have fun and don’t take all of my brother's advice.” You try to chuckle and smile but it sounds forced, you go to walk around them and inside the house, to cry to your mother but you’re stopped by someone tugging on your wrist.

You frown up at Steve. “Y/N, I need to tell you something.” You nod and turn back towards Steve, waiting for whatever he needs to say, he stares at you for a moment. “Fuck it!”

Before you can process what is happening his lips are on yours, his hands holding your shoulders and the roses fall to the floor beside your feet. You instantly respond, melting into the kiss that’s unlike anything you’ve ever had. You feel Steve smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist as yours rest against his neck.

“GROSS!” You pull apart and look at Dustin, who is horrified. “I said no kissing in front of me, that was the only rule. You asshole.” he picks up his bike, muttering curse words and names at Steve, “one fucking rule, can even follow that. I do everything to help this guy, this is how he repays me.”

Steve purses his lips and holds back the chuckle. “Thank you, shithead,” Steve calls, Dustin turns and flips him off before riding off down the street to Mikes. “It was worth breaking that one rule.” Steve shrugged at you, you chuckled lightly nudging him, he bends down and picks up the roses again. “Prepare to go on the best date of your life.” He challenges, pulling you by your hand towards his car.

“Is this the first time you’ve hung out with someone your own age in a while?” You smirk as Steve blinks at you, mock offence. “How will they survive without you?”

Steve rolled his eyes, opening your door before walking around to his side and starting the engine to the car. It’s silent as he begins to drive off towards your date destination, “I do need to stop in to make sure they all get home okay.” He mutters causing you to chuckle at him, he sighs and chuckles along with you.

(Decided to end it funny. Hopefully, whoever requested this likes it. I had fun writing it, I like the whole Dustin’s sister thing, I like writing the reader as one of the kids sibling. - Rosalie)

[sammy-writes-stuff]

The Stranger, Ch 26

Chapter Twenty-Six: Rapunzel

Start.  Previous.

TW: Blood, violence, dying, death mention, tears, pain, swears, attempted suicide mention

Carrie lay back on the couch and tried to follow Joan’s instructions exactly. Talyn had put on low calming music and was busy drawing the curtains.

“…So, if you’ve ever seen Sherlock, it’s kinda along the same lines.” Joan explained carefully, sitting on the ground next to the couch. “You have to literally construct a space within your mind that you can escape too.”

Carrie frowned and shuffled a little, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to relax. She took a steadying breath and thought of her room at home.

“Imagine every detail, build the room from the ground up.”

Her bed in one corner…her overloaded desk in the other…

“Imagine several more doors along one wall. Each of these represents a different part of your mind: one door for memories, one for emotions…things like that. Whatever feels right to you.”

Memories were behind a red door. Emotions behind a blue one. Another random purple door popped up without her even thinking about it.

Carrie lay there for ages, constructing every detail of the rooms and really feeling her way around her mind.

“You’re doing really well.” Joan said, after what felt like hours. “Now it’s time to try and retreat there entirely, out of Thomas’ body.” Their voice was gentle, but firm. Carrie swallowed, but nodded.

“Okay.” She muttered. Carrie began constructing herself there, focusing clearly on how she would fit in this space, when something strange started to happen. “Wait…”

“You can do it.” Talyn said encouragingly. Carrie just frowned harder as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

“There’s…there’s a hole in the wall behind me.” She was shocked that she hadn’t seen it before. The wall looked like it emptied into a void full of…nothing. Breath-taking abyss. Peace.

Her hand rose up to touch it, craving its safety, its promised solitude, its inherent relief.

She jerked her hand back like it had been shocked and gasped sharply as an image flashed across her mind…

Carrie had been crying.

She had failed something.

She was running home with her tail between her legs.

Rounding each corner faster and faster…

“Someone is…screaming…” Carrie muttered, trying to pinpoint the high-pitched noise that seemed to have started.

“Screaming?” Joan asked warily.

Carrie pushed the grim memory away just before she could see herself yanking the wheel, feeling sick. She looked around in her mind palace once more, and for the first time noticed how grey and drab it all seemed. The wall with the hole was spreading before her eyes, bits flaking off and flying away. She turned to her memories door and bit her lip, wanting more than anything else to run in there and lock the door. Surround herself with the comfortably numb security of the past…before she had decided to throw it all away...

Stupid. Dumb. Reckless...Deliberate? The crash was her fault.

The screaming grew louder.

“Joan…she’s crying…” Someone said, Carrie couldn’t tell who.

“Open your eyes…Carrie open your eyes…”

Carrie turned, and finally started to comprehend the hand she had been dealt.  

The screaming was coming from the purple door.

This wasn’t Heaven or Hell. It was Purgatory.

The abyss was beckoning behind her. Carrie had a feeling it would take her home.

Carrie looked at her hands…really concentrated on them…they swam a little under her scrutiny.

Not real.

She took a step towards the purple door.

Purgatory…time to pay her due.

~

That moment was so full, it seemed to last a lifetime. It moved in slow motion, but so much happened that it made Roman’s head swim…

Or maybe it was the sword sticking out of his chest.

Several things happened at once, but Roman only had eyes for the man at the hilt of his beloved sword.

There was screaming. His bed was in pieces all over his room, a dark pulse of energy having burst forth from Virgil in his panic. The real Logan and Patton had been thrown back by this display also but seemed conscious. Virgil stood in the rubble, panting hard. Roman couldn’t connect the dots exactly, all he could focus on was the burning pain in his chest and the way he felt like going to sleep…

“Thomas get out of here.” Virgil screamed, in his unholy voice. Thomas, who looked beyond utterly confused, scared and hurt, obeyed instantly – closing his eyes and sinking out…

“What did you do?!” Apathy hissed, changing back into his classic form.

“Roman was DYING! Actually DYING! He was vulnerable and without him the connection will break down regardless! We don’t have to faff about with Thomas!” Deceit shrugged. He began to twist the sword buried in the Prince’s chest before he was tackled by the raging force that was Patton.

Glasses blown away by Virgil’s blast, cardigan long gone, the man in the polo shirt screamed and punched Deceit in his borrowed face. Watching Patton fight his double was almost such an odd sight that Greed didn’t see Logan coming for him until he also was on the ground and receiving a few choice blows.

Apathy just put his hands up when Virgil turned to look at him.

Roman chuckled a little as his vision filled with stars. His family…they had won…they had saved Thomas…

Logan had Greed and Apathy tied together in one corner, then turned to aid Patton in his struggle with Deceit who had by now returned to his dapper form.

Roman tried to stand. He wanted to look dignified, after all.

He just keeled over on his side, but someone managed to catch him and lower him to the ground gently.

“SHIT…SHIT…RO NO!” Someone sobbed. Roman smiled blearily back at the dark blob above him.

“Virgil, stop!” Another said. “You can’t remove the sword, it’s holding everything together for the moment…just put pressure around it.”

“Son?”

It was quiet, measured. Roman frowned. Why did these people sound so…god what was the word for it? He couldn’t think.

“Did we win?” Roman looked around at the three-people cradling him. Logan grimaced and used a spare cloth to wipe some of the blood away that was leaking from Roman’s mouth.

“Yeah, kiddo. We won. You won. It’s all going to be okay…”

“Oohhh PATTON’S LYING!” Deceit called, bitterly laughing from his spot with his accomplices. Patton raised his hand sharply and they disappeared.

“M’sorry.” Roman started coughing and Logan lifted him slightly, so he could rub his back.

“You’re so stupid…”

“Virgil.”

“NO! WHY…I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Virgil yelled in frustration. “WE’RE A TEAM AND YOU HAD TO DITCH AND BE THE FUCKING HERO.”

“I was already bad.” Roman closed his eyes in a grimace.

“What…what do you mean?”

“Carrie…” Logan muttered. “Carrie was starting to see through Roman’s creations and imagery. She spent the most time in your room, besides her own…which you created in the first place…all those nights you spent in Carrie’s room too…”

“My room didn’t feel good.” Roman nodded, not really able to string his thoughts together coherently and sending himself into another blood-splattering coughing fit.

“That doesn’t matter now.” Patton cooed, brushing Roman’s hair out of his eyes. It was a peaceful act, but it made Roman start to feel how vulnerable he was.

He let a few tears slide out of his eyes, and he dimly registered Logan getting up for the first aid kit and to go find a book on the topic.

Forever the nerd.

Roman laughed.

“I think I see an angel…” He muttered, staring blindly upwards.

Virgil bit back a comment on the dramatics. If Roman would live…he would never comment on his dramatics again…

Roman reached up to try and grab the hand stretching down towards him. It was bathed in silver light.

“What are you doing?” Patton sounded less calm now.

“She’s not Alice.” Roman muttered.

There were hurried footsteps as Logan returned with the first aid kit, his glasses fogged and cheeks red from his own tears.

“He’s…he’s actually…” Virgil sounded like he was in shock. “No....”

“Roman look at me.” Logan said, gripping a pair of scissors nervously. “You guys hold him down, I have to cut his shirt away.”

Someone grabbed his elevated arm and Roman whined softly.

“No, she’s going to help me…”

“Ro, please…” Someone tearfully pleaded, keeping his arm firmly at his side as he tried to struggle.

“I’ve nearly got it…okay let go…” Logan pulled away the front of Prince’s ruined shirt and sash, leaving the sword sticking out just above his stomach. “Put pressure around the wound but don’t bump the sword…”

“I love you guys.” Roman lifted his arm again with the last of his strength and gripped the hand. It was warm and smooth under his calloused grip, and he let his arm slacken in her embrace.

“RO!? LOGAN WHAT’S HAPPENING???”

“I don’t…I don’t KNOW!?” Logan sobbed.

“She’s not Alice.” Roman repeated, a little firmer, as the warmth in his hand started to spread down his arm. “She’s Rapunzel.”

There was a blinding flash of white light that made Logan, Virgil and Patton scramble back from the Prince.

When it faded, the Prince was lying there alone, shirt still tattered, torso still bloody, but the sword plainly absent from his chest.

Next.