#puts my head down and goes to be alone again

[wzrd-wheezes]

I have an idea for bartender! Remus, if it’s something you’d be comfortable writing? (I know people have different boundaries on this kind of topic so if not totally ignore this)

But what about Reader goes to the bar to meet up with Remus (like an hour or so before he gets off work, they plan to hang out after but she figured might as well go have some fun, either with a friend or alone) and some random guy—could even be Snape/Mulciber/someone Remus knew from school??— is being creepy at the bar, then slips/tries to slip something into her drink when she’s not looking, and Remus catches him? Get some protective ‘Guard dog Wolf’ boyfriend and H/C action going on??

Up to you how far creepy guy gets in his endeavours lol whatever you’re comfortable with :))

In Safe Hands - Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - thank you for this request! This was something a bit different for me. i've put some links at the end with some info about spiking etc because it is a very real and very scary thing so pls be vigilant, keep an eye on your drinks, keep an eye on your mates and don't be afraid to tell creepy men to fuck off!

Warnings: mentions of drugs/ attempted spiking (nothing serious happens but worth mentioning incase it's a trigger for anyone) 2k words

“You’re still meeting me after my shift, yeah?” Remus asked, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his girlfriend’s head as he reached for his jacket draped over the sofa, “It’s alright if you’re too tired and don’t fancy it. I’ll be finishing late.” 

Y/N looked up at him, her legs curled beneath her on the sofa. “Don’t be daft,” she said with a soft smile, “I’m meeting Lily anyway and we said we’d pop in for a drink before she meets James. I think she said he was going out somewhere with Sirius.”  

“Oh God.” Remus widened his eyes jokingly, “I hope she doesn’t have to call me to pick the two of them up again.” 

“Hah! I hope not,” she agreed, “But yeah. I’ll be there for sure. I like seeing you at work.” 

Remus paused mid pocket pat, checking for the late shift essentials -lighter, cigarettes, keys- then raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh, yeah? What’s so fun about watching me pouring pints and dodging drunk blokes?” 

She shrugged with a grin, “No particular reason. I just like seeing you in your element. All nice and charming and pretending that you’re not judging everyone.” 

“I don’t pretend that hard.” 

“Exactly.” 

Remus leaned down, his fingers brushing against her jaw before kissing her softly again, “You’re an idiot,” he said fondly, “Alright, I’m off. See you later, lovey.” 

The bar was already packed when Y/N and Lily walked in. It was familiar and gloomy with it’s dim lighting, scuffed wood and the hum of conversations. The large bar stretched across the middle of the room, people queuing up all around it. 

“There - look!” Lily grabbed Y/N’s hand as she spotted two empty barstools and dragged her forwards. 

“Perfect spot, eh?” Lily teased, “Front row seats to watch your boyfriend at work.” 

“Shut up,” Y/N swatted at her friend playfully. She settled onto her stool and glanced down the length of the bar. 

Remus was stood at the far end, deep in conversation with one of his regulars. One hand rested on the bar top, the other gesturing mid-story. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbows and he had his dish cloth slung over his shoulder. The familiar furrow between his brows was a tell-tale sign that he was pretending not to enjoy himself. 

Lily slid a menu across the bar towards her, though it was more ritual than necessity, “Are we pretending to deliberate for thirty seconds before ordering the exact same thing we always do?” 

“Of course,” Y/N replied, “If it’s not broken don’t fix it.” 

It didn’t take long for Remus to clock them. He finished pouring a beer and handed it off with a nod before making his way over to them. 

“Well, well,” he said, leaning an elbow on the bar in front of them, “What did I do to earn the pleasure of both your company tonight?” 

"Don’t flatter yourself,” Lily said dryly, though the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile, “I can’t stay long. Told James I’d meet him just after midnight.” 

“Probably a good idea. Best not to leave him unattended with Sirius for too long. Remember last time when they nearly got banned from the pub quiz because of-”  

“Please don’t remind me.” Lily cut him off, hiding her face in her hands. 

Remus laughed and grabbed two glasses from under the bar, setting them down with a soft clink, “Same as usual?” 

“You know us,” Y/N replied. 

“Oh, I know. Creatures of habit, the pair of you,” he gestured towards Y/N. “Especially you – always sit on the right, always eye the mojito like you’re considering ordering something different and then order the same thing anyway.” 

He held his hands up defensively and chuckled. Y/N watched him as he turned to make their drinks. He made it look effortless, and she loved catching his little quirks as he worked. The way he would tap each bottle twice before pouring, how he would flick his fingers when he shook the cocktail shaker. When he eventually slid their drinks towards them, his hand brushed hers and she felt that familiar warmth creep up her spine. 

The two girls fell into easy conversation as Remus returned to his rounds behind the bar. They sipped their drinks, watching the bar buzz around them. Remus was a blur of motion, moving from one end of the bar to the other. Every time he passed by them, he didn’t fail to glance their way, flashing them a crooked smile that lingered on Y/N for a second longer. 

Lily stretched, letting out a dramatic sigh as she glanced at the time, “Alright, guess I’d better be off,” she pouted as she drained the rest of her drink, “You’ll be okay, yeah?” 

Y/N nodded, setting her own glass down, “Yeah, ‘course. Remus should be done soon anyway.” 

Lily pulled her friend into a warm hug, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, “Okay, then. I’ll call you tomorrow. Wish me luck!” 

Y/N watched her friend disappear through the door and she turned back to her drink, tracing her finger along the condensation that had formed on the glass. Remus was busy down the other end of the bar, chatting with a pair of customers. 

“Mind if I sit here?” A voice spoke out behind her. 

Snapped back into reality, she turned around and met the eyes of the man behind her, “Oh, er, yeah sure.”  

She assumed that he was just looking for an empty seat, probably waiting for someone himself. She smiled at him as he sat down and then turned back to face the bar. 

“Your friend ditch you or something?” 

“Huh?” she glanced at him sideways, “No, she had to meet someone.” 

“My lucky night then, eh?” he grinned at her. He was a few years older than she was, dressed like he thought he was cooler than he was in an expensive looking jacket and shoes, “Wanted to come over and speak to you earlier but I didn’t want to intrude.” 

“I’m with someone,” she nodded towards the bar. 

He tilted his head looking unconvinced, “Doesn’t look like it.” 

Y/N gave him a tight smile and looked away, hoping that would be enough but he didn’t relent. The man leaned in closer, casually, like she hadn’t just brushed him off. 

“Aw, come on now,” he lowered his voice, “No need to be shy. I just thought you looked like you could use some company. Doesn’t seem right, leaving a lady sat all by herself.” 

“I said I’m good.”  

“Girls like you shouldn’t drink alone. Gives people the wrong idea.” 

Y/N turned to face him fully now, “Let me give you the right idea then. Fuck off.” 

The man laughed, like they were playing a game, “No need to be rude, I’m only being friendly.” 

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar. For a moment, she considered moving but the bar was packed, and she wanted to be near Remus. Besides, why should she have to move just because some wanted to try it on her? She looked back to Remus, willing his shift to end.  

The man was still talking – meaningless chatter about how the bar was busy and isn’t every bar crowded and loud nowadays? Unfortunately for him, Y/N had long since stopped listening, hoping that if she ignored him long enough he would eventually get the hint and leave. She kept her body angled away, trying to increase the distance between them. 

Remus had been watching Y/N from the moment Lily had left. Not constantly, but just checking in every couple of minutes. It was a protective little habit that he had whenever she came to visit him at work.  

He’d seen the man sit down, immediately clocking him and the way Y/N seemed to be handling it. He knew he would intervene if he needed to. But then he saw it. The sleight of hand as the man’s fingers brushed the rim of Y/N’s glass.  

Remus was across the bar in seconds, fast and silent. The man didn’t even notice him until Remus’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist mid-motion, slamming it down against the bar. The man jolted and so did Y/N. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled. The room seemed to quieten and several heads turned. The man tried to jerk his arm back but Remus gripped it tightly. 

“I didn’t do anything!” The man scoffed, still trying to wrench his arm free. Remus used his spare hand to snatch the glass up. 

“No? ‘Cause it looked like you just put something in her drink.” Remus thrust the glass towards him, “Drink it then, if it’s alright. Go on.” 

Y/N was stunned into silence as she watched the altercation. Her mouth had gone dry when she realised what had happened.  

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find a way to weasel himself out of the situation. 

What?” Remus pressed, “You’re that pathetic that you have to slip something into a girls drink just to be in with a chance of getting laid?” 

“I didn’t do anything so why don’t you just fuck off?” The man spat. 

Remus saw red and released his grip just long enough to grab the front of the man’s shirt and drag him towards him until their faces were inches apart, only the bar between them. His feet scrambled on the footrest of the barstool, trying to regain his balance. 

“You don’t talk to me like that. Not in my bar.” Remus seethed, “You come in here and try to drug someone – my girlfriend, no less – and then try to lie your way out of it? You’re fucking lucky that I’m still speaking instead of beating the shit out of you.”  

Remus gave him a sharp shove causing him to topple off the back of the stool and hit the ground with a thud. He stumbled to his feet, glaring at Remus. 

“I’d fuck off if I were you. You don’t step foot in this place again and if you do... I’ll fucking bury you.” Remus sneered.  

The man’s chest puffed like he was about to retort but any words he had died in his throat when he turned around to be greeted by two burly security guards. One of them grabbed his arm, the other gave him a rough push towards the exit. He didn’t argue, just muttered under his breath as they dragged him out. 

“You okay?” Remus’s gaze softened as he turned to look at his girlfriend who was anxiously biting her lip. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry – I should’ve moved away as soon as he came over-” 

“Not your fault, sweetheart. Fucking creep.” he was around the bar in a second, wrapping his arm around her shoulders tightly, “Let’s get you home, eh?” 

The flat was quiet when they stepped inside. It was soothing to Y/N’s pounding head from the noise of the bar. Remus locked the door behind them and turned the latch with more force than necessary. His jaw was still clenched but his touch was gentle on the small of her back as he guided her inside. 

“Sit down,” he gestured to the sofa, “I’ll make you a brew.” 

She nodded and curled up, wrapping the blanket tightly around her shoulders. It wasn’t until she was in the still and silence that it suddenly hit her how close it had been. How wrong it could have gone if Remus hadn’t noticed. By the time Remus came back, two mugs of tea in hand, she was glassy eyed.  

“Here,” he said, “Tea makes everything better.”  

She drank it slowly as she watched him. His hands rested on her knees, tracing small, steady circles like he was trying to ground her.  

“I should have said something sooner,” she whispered, “I knew something felt off but I didn’t want to overact. What if you weren’t there and-” 

“No. Don’t do that to yourself.” Remus shook his head immediately, pulling her closer to him until she was nestled under his arm, “You shouldn’t have to expect something like that to happened just because you’re sitting alone for five minutes.” 

Y/N nodded, blinking fast trying to keep the stinging of tears in her eyes from spilling over. Her hand reached up and found the back of Remus’s head, running her fingers through his hair. He dipped his head down and kissed her softly. 

“I’ll always look out for you.” he murmured against her lips, “you know that, yeah?” 

Helpful links:

https://www.met.police.uk/advice/advice-and-information/spiking-advice/spiking/how-spiking-can-make-you-feel/

https://www.sandstonecare.com/blog/roofied/

Stay safe <3

[hoe-days]

The other day I mentioned Pick Me vs S/Os and I thought about hpw the Stanley Pick Me would be the hardest to deal with for both Stan and his S/O.

With Senku, his S/O sees him all the time and he isn’t afraid to show his disinterest in someone or tell them to their face to chill the hell out.

Even with Xeno, he and his S/O love and in some cases work together, and again, he has no issue at all telling the Pick Me to leave him be. (And proceed to name every reason his partner(s) are/is better)

And it’s not to say that Stan has any issue doing so! But his issue lies in distance, profession, and rumors. Everyone knows the stereotype surrounding military men and women, but that alone isn’t enough to sway his S/O. They know Stan is nothing if not loyal to those he loves. But over time that assurance can be worn down. He’s always away, everyone is in their ear talking about how they need to “watch those military men” but S/O’s trust won’t break! But that little seed of insecurity is planted. But that’s what Xeno is there for. He, of course assures them in his own blunt, matter-of-fact way.

But then Pick Me comes around. Xeno and S/O have a chance to visit Stan out of the country. He’s giving them a tour of the base and here comes Pick Me. Oh she just looooves Captain Snyder. They have so much fun she says.

Xeno snorts and looks at Stanley, the look they’ve been sharing with each other since childhood. That one look every pair of best friends has that says, ‘You seeing this shit?’. And yes Stan sees. When she leaves he leans over to Xeno and S/O and goes, “She’s been passed around the entire base. Props to her I guess.”

Xeno snickers, but S/O doesn’t seem all that amused. Sure they laugh but Stan can see the gears in their head turning.

“Don’t even consider that a scenario, Dollface.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been talking to that old lady at the grocery store again haven’t you.”

“….”

“You have nothing to worry about. My heart is big enough for two, but three is a crowd.”

And it ends there. The anxiety goggles are lifted and S/O sees things how they really are. Stan has no interest in this woman whatsoever.

So you’d think it’s over, right?

Pick Me knows Stan won’t budge, especially now that his “Dollface” is in front of him. But what she doesn’t factor in is Xeno. More on that in a few.

Pick Me is really friendly to everyone. That’s what they tell S/O at least. Xeno and Stan have ventured off, discussing some new weapon. S/O decide to stay in Stan’s office and in comes Pick Me. She was looking for Captain Snyder but this works.

“Oh hi! You must be S/O. Captain Snyder mentioned you A COUPLE times.”

S/O doesn’t pay that comment any mind though. I mean does this woman not see all the pictures of them and Xeno in this office?

“So you went to prom together? You must be childhood sweethearts. That’s cute! Most highschool couples don’t last. They always get bored. It’s so sad to see.”

S/O looks at them and just blinks. Huh?????

“You and his best friend seem awfully close though. That’s good you guys kept in touch after Captain Snyder was gone.”

She’s trying to get under S/O’s skin.

“I can’t imagine how lonely it must be being away from your spouse. I feel for you and Captain Snyder.

“Uh huh..”

Then Stan and Xeno come back.

“My office is closed right now. I said not to let anyone in, Dollface.”

“I didn’t. She just walked in.”

“Really?”

“My my Stan, it seems she’s undermining your orders. To torment our darling S/O no less.”

Here’s Xeno, the #1 instigator.

“Captain I was just-“

Stan puts his cigarette out on the ashtray of his desk and goes berserk. He scolds her head off and dismisses her from his sight. S/O is a little shook, he’s always so calm and cool at home.

Once that’s all over and she runs out he turns to Xeno and S/O and sighs.

“So what do you want for lunch?”

[anyplaceisparadise]

I finished Helmet for my Pillow. Now I'll be the first to admit that The Pacific is my least favourite of the HBO war shows, but I saw this at a book sale and thought 'what the hell, it's $4'. So I grabbed it, couldn't put it down, and now I think I need to re-watch the pacific.

Lines I can't stop thinking about/underlined:

"We left our innocence on Red Beach. It would never be the same" (pg. 60)

"Except for one's close buddies, it is difficult to feel deep, racking grief for the dead, and now, hearing the lieutenant tolling off the names, I had to force my face into a mask of mourning, deliberately adorn my heart with black, as it were, for I was shocked to gaze inward and see no sorrow there. Rather than permit myself to know myself a monster (as I seemed, then) I deliberately deluded myself by feigning bereavement. So did we all" (pg. 84) (And then afterwards adds "may he rest in peace" after every death).

"'Oh boy- there goes one!' We would hear the shriek of a plunging plane. Then a shattering blast. 'Oooh. That must have been a five hundred pounder'" (pg. 100) (This one stuck out bc mota has my heart and soul).

"It is one thing to die, another to die uselessly" (pg. 108).

Mild he lays his glory by/ Born that man no more may die. And tomorrow our hands would be stained with the blood of our brothers (pg. 215).

"Intelligence, intelligence, intelligence. Keep it up America, keep telling your youth that mud and danger are fit only for intellectual pigs. Keep on saying that only the stupid are fit to sacrifice, that America must be defended by the low-brow and enjoyed by the high-brow. Keep vaunting head over heart, and soon the head will arrive at the complete folly of any kind of fight and meekly surrender the treasure to the first bandit with enough heart to demand it" (pg. 265).

"Never before were we so confident of victory, never again would its price be so high" (pg. 277).

"The hand is the artisan of the soul. It is the second member of the human trinity of head and hand and heart. A man has no faculty more human than his hand, none more beautiful nor expressive no productive. To see this hand lying alone, as though contemptuously cast aside, no longer part of a man, no longer his help, was to see war in all its wantonness; it was to see the especially brutal savagery of our own technique of rending, and it was to see men at their eternal worst, turning upon one another, tearing one another, clawing at their own innards with the maniacal fury of the pride-possessed" (pg. 286).

"of all these and the others, dear Father, forgive us for that awful cloud" (pg. 305).

[snail-day]

It's that time of year to start watching Twilight again….

Tw: Yandere, alluding to kidnapping.

Rosalie definitely goes to hot yoga, but not for the workout. Mainly the aesthetics. Okay, actually it's for you. Saw you down the street one day staring at her, and well, she likes to play with her food.

So, of course, she got a membership at your gym. Only uses it on the days you show up, and it's kind of annoying because she’s not even sweating, obviously, but you are. The room is thick with heat and low music, bodies moving in unison, and Rosalie’s hot pink mat is always right beside yours. She never breaks form. Never breaks a sweat. Not a single pretty blonde hair out of place. Just watches you with that little smile while your body trembles in the steam.

And her hands, god, ice cold. Kind of feels nice in the heat of the room. They send a jolt up your spine every time she touches you, adjusting your hips, guiding your back, fingers lingering low on your stomach. It's a little concerning just how touchy she can get for someone so reserved. “Mmm, that’s perfect,” she murmurs, voice like velvet, thumb grazing just under the waistband of your leggings. “You’re so… responsive.”

You try not to blush, but she makes it impossible. She leans close, under the guise of helping you stretch, her breath cool against your ear as she asks, “So… are you seeing anyone?” You hesitate, and she grins. Plays it off like girl talk.

“Do you want kids?” she adds casually, “You just have that look. So soft and sweet." You almost miss the next part when she watches you dip into downward dog. Under her breathe and low, staring right at your ass. "So fertile.”

And every time another girl even glances at you, Rosalie’s golden gaze sharpens. One narrowed look from her and suddenly the girl next to you is switching mats. Tripping in a pose. Pretending not to look anymore.

You attempt to ask, she's quick to cut you off.

“Oh,” Rosalie says, sugar-sweet as she helps you into another stretch, her slender hand splayed across your stomach, “some people just don’t know how to mind their business.”

You laugh nervously, but she doesn’t. She just tilts her head. Stares at you like she doesn't quite get the joke.

“You should come back to my place,” she says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “It’s so peaceful. You can meet my husband. We’ve got this gorgeous vintage you’ll love.”

You blink, trying to find your footing again. “Oh, I actually have plans - ”

“Mmm, no you don’t,” she hums, already rolling up your mat for you. “Not anymore.”

She presses the mat into your arms with a smile. Icy fingers curl just around your wrist, like she’s testing the fit of a bracelet.

“Let’s go, babe. I’ll drive.”

---

Note: If you think for even a second that Emmett gets any alone time with you, you're sorely mistaken. Rosalie is right there, guiding his hips, whispering instructions, making sure every single drop counts. That man is not trusted to do this on his own, not when you're this cute and this fertile. She’s got a goal, and it’s putting a baby in you, one way or another. Also, she makes Edward very uncomfortable. Corners him in the hallway like, “Be honest, how exactly were you doing it when Bella got pregnant? Angle, rhythm, depth, I need specifics.”

[layce2015]

Stranger Things (Steve Harrington x Female!Reader)

Chapter 7: The Gate

Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter

“Eleven.” Mike said, shocked. “Mike.” Eleven said then they hug and she sobs alittle. “Is that...” Max asked Dustin and Lucas and they nod. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for...” Mike said as they break the hug. “353 days. I heard.” Eleven said. 

“Why didn't you tell me you were there? That you were okay?” Mike asked her, confused. “Because I wouldn't let her.” Hopper said then he looks at Eleven. “The hell is this? Where you been?” He asked her. “Where have you been?” She asked him but then they hug.

“You've been hiding her. You've been hiding her this whole time!” Mike said and he shoves Hopper. “Hey! Let's talk. Alone.” Hopper said and he and Mike go into another room and we hear them shouting.

Then Lucas and Dustin go to hug Eleven. “We missed you.” Lucas said to her. “I missed you, too.” Eleven said then they break up the hug. “We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin said, smiling, then Eleven looks at him the sticks her finger on his mouth. “Teeth.” She said. “What?” Dustin asked. “You have teeth.” Eleven points out. “Oh. You like these pearls?” Dustin asked then he purrs and I chuckle and shake my head while Lucas rolls his eyes.

“Eleven?” Max said as her and I step forward. “Hey. Um, I'm Max and this is my sister, (y/n).” Max introduced as she holds her hand out to Eleven, who didn’t look very friendly towards Max. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” I added as I hold a hand out to her as well and she ignores Max but she does, cautiously, shake my hand before she walks over to Joyce and hugs her.

”A bit rude.” Max mutters and I shrug. “Hey, sweetheart.” Joyce said as her and Eleven hug. “Can I see him?” Eleven asked Joyce and she leads her to Will’s room. We all follow them as Joyce and Eleven talk. “You opened this gate before, right?” Joyce asked her. “Yes.” Eleven whispers. “Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?” Joyce asked her and Eleven ponders this before she nods.

*3rd Person POV*

At the Wheeler house, Karen was in the bathtub enjoying a relaxing evening with candles and a good romance book when the doorbell rang. She didn’t get up but the bell kept ringing. “Ted! Would you please get that?” She calls out but the bell continued. “Ted!” Karen shouts again but nothing as the bell rings rapidly. 

She sighs, annoyed, shuts her book and gets out of the tub, grabbed her robe and puts it on as she runs down the stairs. “Hold on, please.” Karen said as she heads to the door and opens it, revealing Billy. “Oh. Hi.” He asked, smiling, leaving Karen stunned. “Hi.” She said.

“I, uh, didn't realize Nancy had a sister.” Billy said and Karen chuckles. “What's so funny?” Billy asked, still giving that charming smile. “I'm Nancy's mother.” Karen said. “No.” Billy said, feigning shocked. “Yes.” Karen chuckles. “Mrs. Wheeler.” Billy said, impressed, as he looks her up and down. 

Karen blushes and chuckles alittle before she stammers out a question. “Um, I'm sorry, and you are?” She asked. “Billy. Billy Hargrove.” Billy introduced as he takes her hand in both of his hand. “You must be here for Nancy.” Karen said. “Nancy? No, no, no. Not my type. Uh...No, actually, I am looking for my sisters Max, who goes by Maxine, and (y/n). They’ve been missing all day, and, uh, to be honest with you, I've been worried sick, you know, so...” Billy said and Karen hums.

“I thought they were at Lucas', but Mrs. Sinclair said your house is the...the designated hangout, so, you know...Here I am.” Billy said as he leans against the door.

“Their driveway is pretty dark this time of night. So drive slowly.” Karen said to Billy as she writes down the Byers’ address. “Always.” Billy said as she hands him the paper. “And when you see Mike, tell him to come home already, okay?” Karen tells him. “You're a real lifesaver, you know that?” Billy said as he takes a cookie from the counter and takes a bite out of it.

“Anytime.” Karen said. “I'll see you later.” Billy said and he leaves the house and heads to his car. He looks at the paper then starts up his car and heads off.

*(y/n)’s POV*

“It's not like it was before. It's grown. A lot. And, I mean, that's considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.” Hopper explains to us. “Demo-dogs.” Dustin corrects and Hopper looks over at him.

“I'm sorry, what?” He asked, sighing. “I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass...” Dustin said. “How is this important right now?” Hopper asked him. “It's not. I'm sorry.” Dustin said, looking down.

“I can do it.” Eleven said. “You're not hearing me.” Hopper said. “I'm hearing you. I can do it.” Eleven said, firmly. “Even if El can, there's still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies.” Mike said. “I thought that was the whole point.” Max said, questioning. “It is, but if we're really right about this…I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer's army...” Mike said and Lucas raises his head.

“Will's a part of that army.” He said. “Closing the gate will kill him.” Mike states and we all look around at each other then Joyce raises her head.

She then leads us back to Will’s room which was freezing inside as the window was open. “He likes it cold.” Joyce mutters. “What?” Hopper asked. “It's what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Joyce said and she goes to the window and closes it. 

“We keep giving it what it wants.” Joyce said. “If this is a virus, and Will's the host, then...” I said, thinking. “Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” Jonathan said. “So if he likes it cold...” Nancy said. “We need to burn it out of him.” Joyce finished.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn't know this time.” Mike said. “Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin said and Hopper thinks before they grab some blankets, wrap Will in it and he, Joyce and Jonathan leave the house. Then Nancy leaves with them and now it was Eleven’s and Hopper’s turn to leave.

Which that left me, Steve, Max, Mike, Lucas and Dustin in Will’s house.

“All right. It should fit now.” Dustin said after he clears out the fridge, Steve was holding the dead Demo-dog that he and I had wrapped up in a blanket. “Is this really necessary?” Steve asked, exasperated. “Yes, it is, okay?” Dustin said. “Why the hell are we doing this?” I asked. “This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery. We can't just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It's not a dog.” Dustin said as if this was the most obvious thing. 

“All right, all right, all right. But you're explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?” Steve said as he goes to the fridge and shoves the dead Demo-dog in. “Christ.” Steve grumbles as he does his best to get inside. “Here, I’ll help.” I said as I come up and grab the door with my right hand and use my left hand to help Steve shove the monster inside. 

Once we got it inside, Steve steps away and I quickly shut the door. “Damn.” I muttered. “Thanks.” Steve tells me. “Don’t mention it.” I said as I lean against the fridge and raise my hand and scratch my forehead. “Whoa, what happened to your arm?” Dustin asked me and I furrow my brow, only to notice that the sleeve of my sweater had fallen back, revealing the new set of bruises Billy gave on my arm.

”What the hell?” Steve said as he noticed and I quickly pushed the sleeve down. “It’s nothing.” I said and I fold my arms across my chest. “That didn’t look like nothing. What happened?” Steve asked me and I bite my lips and let out a heavy sigh through my nose. 

“Remember when I mentioned Billy was a real piece of work?” I asked him and Steve looked at me then a look of realization crosses his face. “Holy shit.” He mutters as Dustin looks between us. “Yeah…asshole has a short temper.” I said. “Do we need to call someone once all of this is done?” Dustin asked, concerned. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” I assured him.

”You don’t have to lie for that asshole.” Steve said. “I’m not.” I said, defensively, and Steve stares at me before he looks over at Dustin. “Hey, Dustin, go help the others.” He said and Dustin looks between us before he leaves the room.

I close my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I know we don’t know each other very well but you can trust me. So talk to me.” Steve said, in a cautious tone, which I was feeling somewhat comforted by. I open my eyes and look at him before I lower my head and fidget with my fingers.

”I don’t really know what to say.” I muttered. “Well how about, for starters, how long has he been doing this?” He asked me and I sighed again. “A few years. Pretty much ever since his dad and my mom got together.” I whispered. “What about your sister? He ever hurt her?” Steve asked me and I raise my head up to him.

”Not much, no. I always made sure he directed his anger towards me.” I said and Steve furrows his brow. “What? Why?” He asked me. “Because I’d rather he hit me than hit her. She’s a kid and…” I stop and scoff out a small humorless laugh. “No one gives a shit about me.” I said, softly, tears were burning the corners of my eyes.

I turn my head away from him as I blink back the tears and just let out another scoff. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” I muttered. “Maybe because I care.” Steve said and I chuckled as I look back at him. “I thought your whole schtick was to act like you don’t care?” I asked him, teasingly. “Well, this is a serious situation you’re in.” Steve said and I give him a shocked look. But then I felt a smile creep up on my lips and I look down, feeling my face turn red.

But before we could talk any further, we hear the boys arguing. “You weren't in there, okay, Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” Mike said. “Demo-dogs!” Dustin shouts and Steve and I walk into the living room. “The chief will take care of her.” Lucas said. “Like she needs protection.” Max mutters.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?” Steve tells Mike. “Okay, first of all, this isn't some stupid sports game. And second, we're not even in the game. We're on the bench.” Mike argues. “So my point is...” Steve stammers but then stops as he tries to think of an explanation but couldn’t come up with one. “Right, yeah, we're on the bench, so, uh, there's nothing we can do.” He said. 

“That's not entirely true. I mean, these Demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.” Dustin said. “If we get their attention...” Lucas said. “Maybe we can draw them from the lab.” Max said. “Clear a path to the gate.” Mike adds. “Yeah, and then we all die.” I said.

“That's one point of view.” Dustin said. “No, that's not a point of view, man. That's a fact.” Steve argued. “I got it!” Mike said as he runs over to one of the parts of the drawings. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So...” Mike said then he walks over to the middle of the room and stands on a collection of drawings on the floor.

“Here, right here. This is like a hub. So you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire...” Mike said. “Oh, yeah? That's a no.” Steve said. “The mind flayer would call away his army.” Dustin said. “They'd all come to stop us.” Lucas said. “We circle back to the exit.” Mike said. “Guys.” I said but the kids kept talking.

“By the time they realize we're gone...” Mike said. “El would be at the gate.” Max said. “Hey. Hey! Hey!” Steve shouts and claps his hands then place them on his hips as the kids all look at him. “This is not happening.” Steve said. “But...” Mike tries to argue but Steve interrupts. “No, no, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I plan on. We're staying here. On the bench. And we're waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?” Steve asked.

“This isn't a stupid sports game.” Mike argues and I step up. “Does everybody understand that?” I said in a loud, firm voice. All the kids look at me, surprised. “We need a yes.” I said as I fold my arms across my chest.

Before they could respond, we hear an engine revving up and I felt my blood run cold. Max and I share a look before we run over to the window and see the headlights of Billy’s car coming our way. “It’s our brother. He can't know we’re here.

He'll kill us. He'll kill all of us.” Max said and I take a few short breathes before I look over at Steve, who gives me a concerned look, then he looks towards the door with determination.

*3rd Person POV*

Billy pulls up to the Byers’ house, parks then gets out and sees Steve standing on the porch. “Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?” Billy asked. “Yeah, it's me. Don't cream your pants.” Steve said, uncaring, and Billy shuts the door of his car. 

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy asked him as Steve walks up to him. “I could ask you the same thing. Amigo.” Steve sneered. “Looking for my stepsisters. A little birdie told me they were here.” Billy said. “Huh, that's weird. I don't know them.” Steve said. “One of them is alittle shorter than me, (h/c) hair, and the other is small? Redhead? Both of them are bit of bitches.” Billy said and Steve shakes his head. “Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.” He said and Billy sighs.

“You know, I don't know, this...” Billy said and he clicks his tongue. “This whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies.” He said. “Oh, yeah? Why's that?” Steve asked. “My 13-year-old and 17-year old sisters go missing all day. And then I find them with you in a stranger's house. And you lie to me about it.” Billy said and Steve chuckles.

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what? I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said. They’re not here.” Steve said. “Then who is that?” Billy asked as he points to the window and Steve turns just in time to see (y/n) pulling the kids back. 

“Shit! Did he see us?” Dustin asked as they were pulled down. “I told you guys to stay down!” (Y/n) growls at them. “Oh shit. Listen—“ Steve said as he turns to Billy but Billy shoves him, making him fall to the ground. “I told you to plant your feet.” Billy said then he kicks Steve in the gut, making him groan.

“Get behind me.” (Y/n) tells the kids and they all get behind her as she stands, protectively, in front of them just as the door opens and Billy enters. “Well, well, well. Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise.” Billy said as he glares over at Lucas then over to Max. “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.” Billy said as he walks towards them. 

“Billy, back off! And get the hell out!” (Y/n) growls. “You and your sister disobeyed me. And you know what happens when you disobey me.” Billy mutters to her and (y/n) glares at him. “Don’t…” she mutters. “I break things.” Billy said then he shoves (y/n) aside and grabs Lucas and shoves him against the wall.

Mike, Dustin and Max yell at him. “Get off of me, you...” Lucas  growls. “Since Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will. You stay away from her. Stay away from her! You hear me?” Billy threatens. “I said get off me!” Lucas yells and he kicks Billy in the groin, making him double over and back up. Then he glares at Lucas. “So dead, Sinclair! You're dead.” Billy yells but then he was pulled back and thrown aside. He looks over to see it was (y/n) and she goes to stand in front of Lucas.

”I said get the hell out!” She growls then Billy charges at her and grabs her by the throat and shove her up a different section of the wall. “Hey! Let her go!” Max screams as the other boys shout at Billy. “You really want to die for these little shits?” Billy asked her with a growl and (y/n) glares at him as she doesn’t respond. “I’m gonna break every bone in your body.” Billy threatens but then he was pulled away from (y/n) by Steve. “No. You won’t.” Steve said then he punches Billy across the face.

”Steve!” (Y/n) exclaims, fearfully, as Billy laughs. (Y/n) grabs Lucas and takes him over to the others and they hug him. “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I've been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about.” Billy said as he gets closer to Steve. “Get out.” Steve warns and he pushes Billy back.

Billy stares at him and goes to punch Steve but Steve ducks then he punches Billy. “Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin shouts as Steve punches Billy a couple more times. “Get him!” Mike shouts as Billy falls against the sink. Then he grabs a plate and slaps it over Steve’s face, breaking the plate.

“Steve!” Lucas shouts as (y/n) gasps. 

“Billy!” Max shouts.

“Holy shit!” Mike exclaims as Billy punches Steve, making him stumble back towards the living room. Billy walks towards Steve then grabs him by his jacket and pulls him closer. “No one tells me what to do!” Billy said then he headbutts Steve, making him fall on the floor.

“Whoo! Get up!” Billy exclaims, excitedly, as he gets on top of Steve and starts to punch him, repeatedly. “You're gonna kill him.” Dustin shouts but Billy continues to beat Steve. (Y/n) then looks over at the pipe she had leaned up against the wall and goes to grab it.

She holds it up like a bat then swings it at Billy a couple of times in his back. This takes Billy by surprise as he jerks forward a couple of times before he turns around and catches the pipe before it could hit him again. He yanks the pipe out of her hand and throws it aside then gets up and grabs her then punches her across the face.

”You bitch!” He growls then he throws her down on the ground next to Steve. Billy kicks her then he gets on top of her and punches her. Max looks around for anything then sees the syringe on a table and she grabs it. She runs over to Billy and stabs the syringe in his neck, making him stop.

He turns around and noticed his vision was getting blurry. He reaches over and pulls the syringe out of his neck and looks at it then at Max. “The hell is this? You little shit, what did you do? What did you do?” Billy asked, sluggishly, before he takes a few steps towards Max then falls back, (y/n) was able to drag herself out of the way and goes over to Steve, to see his face was bruised and bloody.

”Steve…” she said, concerned, as Billy laughs then Max goes to grabs the bat and walks towards Billy and holds it up. “From here on out, you leave me, my sister and my friends alone. Do you understand?” She asked him. “Screw you.” Billy said then Max swings the bat down in the space between his legs, close to his crotch. 

Billy stares at it then Max picks the bat up and holds it over. “Say you understand! Say it! Say it!” She shouts. “I understand.” Billy slurs. “What?” Max asked him. “I understand.” Billy said before he blacks out. Max tosses the bat aside then digs into his pocket and pulls out his car keys. “Let's get out of here.” Max said as she holds up the keys.

*(y/n)’s POV*

After gathering up the items we needed to burn these tunnels, we put the items in Billy’s car then me and the boys had to help carry Steve in the backseat as he was still knocked out cold from the fight. Lucas sits in the passenger seat to help direct me where to go while Dustin, Mike and Max sat in the backseat to watch over Steve.

“Okay, you're gonna keep straight for a half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” Lucas tells me. “Okay.” I muttered as I kept on driving. “What's going on?” I hear Steve asked in a slurred voice and look in the rear view mirror to see him waking up and looking around at the kids. “Oh, hey, you’re alive!” I said. “Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” Steve asked as he noticed that the kids were carrying some cans of flammable gas.

”Okay, stop the car.” Steve said, sounding a bit panicked. “Hey, it’s okay!” I said as Dustin said. “C’mon man, I promised you’d be cool.” 

“I mean it.” Steve said. ”I told you he'd freak out.” Mike said. “Guys, can you keep it down! I need to focus.” I said. “Oh, wait, that's Mount Sinai. Make a left.” Lucas said and I make a sharp left, making the tires squeal on the road and everyone in the car scream then I speed down the road and stop in the middle of a field with a giant hole in it. “See? Safe and sound.” I said and we all get out of the car and the we head to the trunk and unload all of the equipment we need.

“Guys. Oh, no. Guys.” Steve calls out but we ignore him as we all grabbed our own goggles and cloth to protect our faces then Mike walks over to the front of the car with the can of flammable gas. “Hey, where do you think you're going?” Steve asked him but Mike ignored him.

“What are you, deaf? Hello?” Steve yells but nobody responded. “We are not going down there right now. I made myself clear. Hey, there's no chance we're going to that hole, all right? This ends right now!” Steve shouts, angrily, as he walks over to the trunk where Dustin and I stood.

“Steve, you're upset, I get it. But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So, keep us safe.” Dustin said as he pulls out a backpack that held the bat and hands it to Steve, who sighs then looks over at me as if to ask me why am I going along with this.

”Hey it was either this or stay back and wait til Billy wakes up. And I’d rather take my chances in the tunnels.” I said and Steve stares at me then takes the bag.

Later, we get down into the tunnels and I look around at it in awe. “Whoa.” I muttered, stunned, as it looked like a cave but instead of rocks it looked like this fleshy mass. “Holy shit.” Steve muttered as he walks up behind me. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's this way.” Mike said after he looks down at the drawn map. “You're pretty sure, or you're certain?” Dustin asked and Mike turns to him. “I'm 100% sure. Just follow me and you'll know.” He said and he starts to walk ahead but Steve walks over to him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey, hey. I don't think so.” Steve said as he takes the paper from Mike. “What?” Mike asked, annoyed. “Any of you little shits die down here, we’re getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve said a she gestures between me and him.

“From here on out, I'm leading the way. Come on, let's go.” He said and he takes the lead then I follow him then look over my shoulder to see the kids hadn’t moved. “Come on.” I tell the kids and they follow me. “Hey, a little hustle.” Steve said and we continue to head deep let and deeper into the tunnel, these white wispy flakes filled the air and the sounds of splashing water filled the air.

“God.” Lucas groans as we looked around a large area of the tunnel. “What is this place?” Max asked. “Guys, come on, keep moving.” Steve  said and we keep walking for a few more moments until we hear Dustin screaming. “Help! Help! Help!”

We all run back to him to see him rolling on the ground as he tries to get up. “Dustin.” Mike, Max and Lucas said as we come up to him. “What happened?” I asked Dustin a she continued to scream. “It's in my mouth! Some got on my mouth! Shit!” Dustin whimpers then he coughs and pulls his bandanna down and spits out whatever was in his mouth and looks up at us.

“I'm okay.” He said, his mouth full of blood. “You serious?” Max asked, annoyed. “Very funny, man. Nice. Very nice.” Steve mutters and we turn back and head off until we found a very large open area. “All right, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.” Steve said. “Drench it.” Mike said and we all got to work on grabbing the gas cans and start to either spray them or throw it around the area, covering it as best as we could.

Minutes later, we poured out all the gas we had and we run over to the side of the area. “Alright. You guys ready?” Steve asked. “Yeah.” Mike and I said while Lucas and Max said. “Ready.”

“Light her up.” Dustin said and Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.” He mutters then he flicks it against for the fire to come on and he throws it into the gas, which lights on fire. Tentacles flail around and I turn to the kids. “Go! Go! Go!” I shouted and all of us run as fast as we could. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Dustin exclaims as we keep running.

”Hey, this way!” Steve shouts as he looks at the map and we keep running but then I hear Mike shout. “Help! Help!” I stop and see some of the vines had grabbed him and I run back over to him. “Guys, help!” I shout as I kneel down and grab Mike’s arm and tried to pull him away from the vines. The others came back and Lucas and Dustin come to help me but then Steve runs over. “Everybody back!” He shouts a she holds his bat then he hits the vines that were holding onto Mike a few times before they let Mike go.

”You okay?” I asked Mike and he nods as I help him up. “We gotta go!” Dustin said but then we hear a growl behind us and we turn to see one of those Demo-dogs that had a yellow spot on its butt.

”Dart.” Dustin said and the creature calms down a bit. Dustin starts to walk towards the monster and all of us tell him to watch out or to get away. “Shh. Stop.” Dustin said. “Dustin, get back.” Max tells him. “Trust me, please.” Dustin said as he continues towards Dart.

“Hey. It's me, it's me. It's just your friend, it's Dustin.” Dustin said to Dart as he removes his goggles and bandanna. “It's Dustin, all right? You remember me?” Dustin asked and Dart walks up to him like a dog would when recognizing its owner.

”Will you let us pass?” Dustin asked him and Dart snarls at him. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchey thing to do.” Dustin said as he kneels down and digs in his pocket. “You hungry? Yeah?” He asked. “He's insane.” Lucas whispers to us. “Don't.” Mike whispers to him. “Shut up.” Steve and I said to the kids, quietly, and we let Dustin continue as he pulls out a candy bar.

“I've got our favorite. See? Nougat.” He said as he holds up the candy and Dart walks up to him. Dustin unwraps the candy and sets it down for Dart. “Look at that. Yummy. Here, all right? Eat up, buddy.” Dustin said as he puts more candy on the ground and Dart begins to eat.

”Come on. Come on.” Steve whispers to us and we get around Dustin and Dart as quietly as we could. “There's plenty. I've got more.” Dustin said as he throws a few more candies down on the ground and Dart eats them up like there’s no tomorrow. “Dustin.” I whispered and he gets up and walks over to me but then stops and looks at Dart, who continues to eat on the candy. “Goodbye, buddy.” He said and he and I follow after the others.

”Let’s go! Let’s go!” Steve shouts as we run but then the place rumbles and shakes. “Whoa!” I said as everyone else stumbles a bit. “Jesus!” Dustin exclaims then I hear some roars. “What was that?” I asked as we heard more noises behind us and we all turn and hear what kinda sounded running footsteps. “They’re coming. Run!” Mike yells and we run the other way and finally found the rope we used to get down here.

”There!” Lucas shouts. “Go, go, go, go!” I shout as we dash to the rope. “Let’s go! Come on!” Steve said and I grab Max and help her up as she grabs the rope and climbs up. Steve then helps Lucas up and he climbs up the rope and Max helps him up. I go and help Mike up next and Lucas and Max help him up then I turn to Dustin.

”Okay, kiddo…” I said but then we heard a shriek. Steve, Dustin and I stop and stare as we see shadows of those Demo-dogs coming. “Dustin! Come on!” Mike and Lucas shout. “(Y/n)! Hurry!” I hear Max shout but there was no way we were gonna get up that quick.

Suddenly, a herd of those dogs come running and Steve, Dustin and I braced for the worst but nothing happened. I opened my eyes and saw all of these dogs run past us as if ignoring us. “What the…” I muttered, confused. “Eleven.” Mike said in realization and I look around and noticed that Steve and I were hugging each other.

We stare at each other then quickly removed our arms off of each other then got to work on getting Dustin up then it was my turn then Steve’s. We got out of the hole to realize a vehicle was there with their headlights on. All of us raised our hands at this and the headlights turned off and some armed men come up to us.

One Month Later

Since the release of the incendiary tape, the once quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana, has spent time in a place it never expected. The national spotlight.

Under mounting pressure, several high-ranking members from the U.S. Department of Energy have admitted involvement in the death and cover-up of Hawkins resident Barbara Holland who died due to exposure to an experimental chemical asphyxiant, which had leaked from the grounds of the lab.

We sent our own April Kline to Hawkins to speak to residents, residents who told us they thought they lived in a safe town. The kind of town where, they say, nothing ever happens.

“Ow, ow. That hurts.” Max said to Mom as she fixes her hair while the radio was playing Jingle Bell Rock. “It's gonna be worth it. Promise.” Mom said. It was the Snowball dance for middle school and Mom was helping Max look nice who always hated dressing up which I don’t blame her.

I smiled and leaned against the doorframe as Mom works on her hair some more. “See? Pretty!” Mom said and Max rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t she look pretty, (y/n)?” Mom asked me and I smiled. “Yes, very.” I said and Max scoffs while I chuckled.

I hear footsteps behind me and I look over my shoulder and see Billy walking up and he stops and stares at me and Max. I glare back at him and he walks away. Ever since Max threatened him, Billy has actually backed off and hasn’t hurt either of us which was a big relief.

”Okay, I think we’re done.” Mom said and Max sighs with relief. “Thank God.” She said and Max walks past me as she goes to grab her shoes. “You be careful, okay?” Mom asked me as she grabs her keys then hands it to me. “You know me, Mom. I’m always careful.” I said as I take her keys then walk over to Max once she finished getting her shoes on.

”Ready for the ball, Cinderella?” I asked her and she scoffs. “Shut up.” She grumbles and I chuckled as both of us grab our jackets and head outside.

Later, I pull up to the middle school gym entrance and I could hear music blasting and the lights flashing inside. “Okay, here we are.” I said as Max starts to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Thanks, (y/n).” Max said then I place a hand on her shoulder. “Now, remember…you’re dancing with the boys, not beating them up.” I said to her in a bit of a teasing tone. “Whatever.” She said as she gets out of the car and I laugh.

”Hey.” I said and she turns to me once she gets out. “I love you.” I tell her. “Love you too.” Max said and she shuts the door and heads inside of the gym. I give a small smile as I watch my little sister head inside for her first dance.

I go to the parking lot, find a free spot and park in it. I sigh as I grab my book, Pet Cemetery, and a flashlight before getting out and sit on the roof of the car. I really didn’t want to go back home and after learning about everything a month ago, I didn’t want to be far from Max.

I turn my flashlight on and begin to read my book. I was so engrossed in the book that I didn’t take into my surroundings until I hear a car horn next to me. I jumped at this and look to my right and see Steve in his car. “Shit! Scare me to death, Harrington.” I said as he chuckles. “Sorry but I called out to you and you didn’t respond.” He said.

”Sorry…” I said as I hold up my book. “What are you doing?” He asked me. “Reading.” I replied, deadpanned, and he rolls his eyes. “I see that but why are you sticking around here? The dance doesn’t end til about ten or so.” Steve said and I sigh slightly.

”It’s just…after learning everything about these…Demogorgans…and this other world…I just didn’t feel comfortable to be too far from Max.” I admit and Steve nods then he turns his car off and gets out and I raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?” I asked him as he climbs up on my car and sits next to me.

”Keeping you company. Is that okay?” He asked me and I smile. “Yeah, that’s fine.” I said and I shut my book and set it aside. “So, what are you doing here?” I asked him. “Eh, I was dropping Dustin off.” Steve said and I smiled again. “That’s very sweet.” I said and he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.” He said, trying to act cool and I shake my head.

”You like to read?” Steve asked me, sounding surprised, as he looks at my book. “Yeah, you got a problem with that?” I asked him then he shakes his head. “No, no, no. It’s just…I never met a girl that liked reading.” He said and I raise a curious eyebrow. “What about Nancy?” I asked him. “Well, she read for school but never for fun.” He replied and I nod. 

“I guess I’m a freak then.” I said, shrugging. “Yep.” Steve said and I give him friendly punch to the shoulder. “Geez thanks, Steve.” I said and Steve laughs. “Hey don’t hit me. I’m a freak now too.” He said and I give him a puzzled look. “I am. Your step-douche of a brother took all my thunder. I’m like at the bottom of the food chain.” He said and I give him a sympathetic look. “Sorry about that.” I said.

“Eh, it’s alright. I guess we can be freaks now together” he said and he bumps my shoulder and I smile. “I’d like that.” I said and I bump shoulder back. We sit there in silence as the muffled music from the dance could be heard until Steve speaks up. ”So, what’s that book about?” He asked me and I begin to explain the plot of the book.

Honestly, I thought moving to Hawkins would be boring as it was just a very small town. And at first it wasn’t so bad, people here were nice but now finding out about this other world with all these monsters and this little girl with these amazing powers, it was kinda scary. But meeting these other kids and adults that understand all of this, the idea on moving here wasn’t so bad as Max and I made some great friends.

[flyingspicerack]

im cooking something

[wayfinderships]

The Snow yearning is so strong tonight

[lamefish]

kento nanami is an anniversary man. nsfw

you think it's sweet, how he has the date of big events in his life on memory. when it's a loss, he'll take the day off to remember, with his head in your lap as he tells stories of whomever has passed. you listen intently, ask questions about them and watch as your husband recounts every good thing about a person.

he celebrates the good, too. almost excessively. the date you met is circled on the calendar, and kento will wake you up with breakfast in bed and a day of doting to show you just how important this anniversary is to him. you turned his world upside down in the best of ways, and what kind of man is he if not one to celebrate the light in his life?

of course, your wedding anniversary too. it's the one he goes all out for: more often than not you put a weekend aside to take a trip and spend some uninterrupted time together. you'll act as newlyweds again, because you still feel like newlyweds despite the passing years, and you'll be reminded over and over just how lucky you are to have found your soulmate in a man like kento nanami.

a man who is sentimental, and so very in love with you. and also celebrates the first time you had sex.

that first year, he had spent the day doting on you so profusely that you were convinced he was going to propose. he was pulling out all of the stops, taking you out fopr an expensive meal, dosing you with fine wines and so many kisses you could get drunk off the taste of him alone. he took you home, ran you a scented bath and took care of the house while you relaxed.

and of course the night ended in mind blowing sex—as your nights usually do. he had insisted on fucking you in missionary despite his recent penchant for taking you from behind and, once he has ripped two orgasms from you and was working on your third, he let it slip.

“we made love for the first time a year ago today,” he whispers against your lips, cock pulsing inside of you as he reaches deep inside of you. “just like this—looking into each others eyes, three orgasms from you, two from me. fell in love with you that night, do you know that honey?”

“you kept track of the day?” you cant finish your sentence without a moan breaking from your throat. “kento, you’re something else.”

“of course i did. it’s an important date, reaching such intimacies—feeling these beautiful velvet walls of yours for the first time… i’ll never forget it.”

you laugh, though it’s quickly swallowed by a kiss from your lover. he rocks his hips into you, feels every inch of his veiny cock disappear inside. he looks down to watch himself sink into you, though his gaze his brought back when you speak.

“three.”

kento blinks. “three what?”

“orgasms from you. you said you had two, but you came a third time right at the end—i milked you dry and you were so sex-drunk and exhausted but you insisted on making me food.” you reach down and grab his hand, the one that had been cupping at your chest, and hold it up for him to see the gentle scar that runs across his thumb. “you cut yourself slicing the bread because i fucked you mindless.”

it comes back to him in gentle flashes. you had, in fact, milked him of a third release. he had just been so out of his mind with nerves and pleasure that the memory had washed itself clean from his mind. he scolds himself mentally for ever daring to forget a detail about being intimate with you, but smiles.

“i remember,” he says. “you told me sex made you hungry so i wanted to incorporate it into your aftercare…”

“silly man,” you wrap your legs around his waist and lick your ankles behind him. with a gentle nudge, he’s forced that tiny bit deeper inside of you. “my silly man.”

kento moans—his eyes flutter shut and his lips catch between his teeth. he adores you—he really does. so much so that the sheer memory of his first time with you is quickly becoming too powerful of a memory to have.

and you, his beautiful other half, laid beneath him with lustful eyes and parted lips, smile up at him. “are we recreating our first time, ken? is that what this is?”

he nods, a little wordless as he tries to keep his mind straight.

“then i think you know what i’m going to do to you, my love.”

he smiles. “milk me for all i have. it’s all yours anyways.”

you lean up and kiss him. it’s slow, gentle, like your first kiss with him was. you taste him wholly on your lips and thank all the divine beings that may exist for putting such a man in your life’s trajectory. his cock twitches inside of you, he fills you out so perfectly.

still, you smile as you roll your hips up to meet his. “just let me handle the aftercare this time.”

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.

[sixeyesonathiel]

clanhead!satoru, who grew up behind paper walls and formal greetings, thinks he’s doing fine. he doesn’t need warmth. doesn’t need partnership. definitely doesn’t need you. not your voice. not your gaze. not your hands reaching out in that quiet way they always do, halfway between anger and hope. he doesn’t need softness, doesn’t need mornings spent with knees brushing beneath the table, or nights curled around shared exhaustion. he doesn’t need any of that.

he keeps telling himself that.

you were arranged. names selected. lives assigned. there was no falling in love, no whirlwind romance. only obligation, and a shared contract, and two people who didn’t know each other at all. the clan called it a bond. satoru called it a sentence. and maybe, so did you. maybe you still do. but you're both too stubborn to say it out loud.

and yet, here you are. somehow, sharing a home that isn’t quite a home. circling around each other like bored cats, passive-aggressively polite, trading jabs like candy wrappers. it’s a miracle neither of you has murdered the other in your sleep. though, sometimes, it’s close. last week you slapped his shoulder with a ladle because he said your miso soup was “a little too philosophical.”

every morning, he wakes up alone in the house you both live in. passes your closed door, always closed, like a wall he isn’t meant to climb. makes his own coffee. glares at your mug next to his like it’s mocking him. sometimes he touches the handle like it might give him a sign. sometimes he almost washes it and puts it away, but doesn’t. not yet. not when you might still come down. not when the ghost of your presence still lingers in the air like perfume.

he starts narrating your morning habits in his head like he's in some tragic sitcom. “there she goes. my legally wedded stranger. master of mug placement. destroyer of peace.” he doesn’t say it aloud. mostly because you’d probably throw a pillow at him and then he’d have to feel something about that.

you’ve filed for divorce again. that’s five now. seven, if he’s honest. twice were his. he still doesn’t know why he ripped them up. they sat on the edge of his desk for days, heavy and clean and final. and then one night, he came home soaked in rain, looked at the envelope, and tore it to shreds like it meant nothing. it meant everything. he couldn’t breathe with it there. couldn’t sleep. couldn’t stop hearing your voice, even when the house was dead quiet.

maybe he’s just tired. maybe it’s the quiet way you look at him when you think he’s not paying attention. maybe it’s the way you always buy him those god-awful sunglasses, even though he hasn’t worn a pair in years. he lines them up on his desk like trophies. he doesn’t know what he’s competing for.

he doesn’t eat unless you cook. says the clan's food makes him sick. lies through his teeth. you roll your eyes every time, muttering, “go starve then.” and he almost does, until you slide a plate across the table an hour later. he stares at the food like it might vanish if he breathes wrong. he doesn’t say thank you. you don’t expect him to. but sometimes, he finds himself eating slower, like the warmth might linger longer that way.

“i’m not your maid,” you mutter once, shoving a bowl of miso soup toward him without looking.

“could’ve fooled me,” he replies. you hit him with a rolled-up magazine. he deserved it. he actually smiles into his spoon.

he didn’t know how to be with someone. he still doesn’t. no one taught him gentleness. no one told him how to reach across the silence and say something that mattered. he grew up with expectation in his bones and solitude in his chest. you grew up dreaming of something else. something soft. something kind. he wonders what version of yourself you had to kill to become the one sitting across from him now.

on bad days, you don’t speak at all. the tension hangs like wet fabric, clinging to everything. the walls feel closer. the air feels thinner. you text like strangers. argue like enemies. sleep like strangers, too. and yet… you still leave the porch light on when he’s out late. he still puts your laundry on the drying rack so it doesn’t wrinkle. you refill the coffee beans. he folds your sweaters when they’re left on the couch. no one mentions these things. maybe because if you said them out loud, they might count as hope. and hope, in this house, is more terrifying than anger.

sometimes he wonders if you even remember the day they told you. the day they said, “you’ll be marrying gojo satoru.” did you cry? did you laugh? did you try to run? he doesn't know. never asked. maybe he didn’t want to know. maybe he was afraid the answer would make him hate himself more.

he remembers the first time you touched him. it wasn’t romantic. just a hand on his wrist, steadying him when he almost tripped on the temple steps. but it lingered. it stayed with him longer than it should have. maybe because it felt real. because it was the first time in years he didn’t feel like a ghost inside his own body.

the first time you made him laugh was when you shoved a whole rice ball in his mouth mid-argument just to shut him up. he nearly choked. you didn’t apologize. he thinks that might’ve been the moment he fell a little in something with you. not love. not yet. but something dangerously adjacent.

he started doing small things too. placing your phone on the charger when you fell asleep watching dramas. hiding your favorite snack in the cabinet behind the protein powder because he knew you’d never look there. writing your name on his calendar, next to his meetings, like it was just as important.

this isn’t working. he knows that. it’s not love, not the kind that grows with laughter and time. it’s something else. something quiet. something fragile. it’s the way you both keep showing up, even when you have every reason not to. like a game of chicken no one wants to lose.

but for some reason, when the elders ask about the paperwork, he always shrugs and says, “she must’ve lost it again.” and when you’re alone in the same room, you always say the same thing. your voice is flat, practiced—but your hands tremble when you pick up the mug, and your eyes flick to his like they might say something your mouth won’t.

he wonders if you’re lying too.

and if you are, he wonders what it means that he hopes you are.

[thedevilsoftruth]

What you need

J. B. Barnes x F! Reader

Sum: Bucky comes home from a mission, and doesn't even make it past the door without you already pouncing on him ♡

Warning: Smut!!! 2k words of pure and utter filth. Thigh riding if you squint, married relationship, riding, missionary, creampie, piv sex (don't try this at home,) lots of kissing, reader is very very desperate and needy. NOT beta read.

A/n: Shitty ass short ass thing I wrote at midnight because progesterone goes crazy and I need to ride New Avengers Bucky. Goodnight.

18+ content up ahead. MDNI!!!

[ my marvel request box is back open. please see my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules. ]

He doesn't even get to set his keys down before you were on him.

You throw yourself into him so hard you knock him against the front door. Your arms are around his neck, forcing him to bend down to your height as you stand on your tip-toes and attack his face with kisses. He's so caught off guard that his eyes don't close as he tries to keep up with your kisses.

"Oh--Hi baby. Hi. Hi." He murmurs against your lips as you kiss him like a wild animal, your lips kissing every inch of his skin, leaving faint pink marks behind from your lipgloss. His hands lay at your hips, fingers curiously threading through the lace of the lavender panties you were wearing under your babydoll bra.

"How are you?" He tries to ask but you growl, pinning him to the door with your hand on his chest and your lips on his jaw.

"I cleaned the house." You nearly whine, your voice coming off as needy. "Mopped the floor, cleaned the stove, did the dishes, baked your favorite cheesecake." You continued, kissing the facial hair on his face that sprinkled down to his neck. Fuck, he was outgrowing his beard and his hair again, and fuck, you needed him so bad.

"I did the laundry--and fuck, James, I even cleaned the car." You told him, mouthing at the crook of his neck, your hands flying anywhere, touching every part of him like it was the last time you'd be seeing him. Bucky groaned and pulled his head back from you a bit.

"Baby, baby." He muttered, leaning back and putting his hands on your cheeks lovingly. You had this look in your heavy lidded eyes, a look that told him you were beyond the point of no return. "Slow down, what's up with you?"

It didn't take long for you to get mad and pull him back down onto you. Your fingers curled into the soft green fabric of his henley and you growled at him like you were mad at him. You backed up until you hit the couch. Bucky's eyebrows were knitted, confused as he tried to read you. His hands on your hips were restricting you from falling back like you wanted to.

"Need you so bad, James, please. Push me onto the couch?" You begged him, mouthing at the corner of his mouth, his beard scratching your skin. You nuzzled your face into his facial hair, earning a confused groan from your husband.

"Baby, where is all of this coming from--"

You cut him off with another kiss. Your tongue quickly slipped into his mouth, and the both of you moaned. His hands slipped down to your ass, gently cupping your flesh into his hands and making you gasp into his mouth. Shockwaves were sent through your body, along with a particular warmth spreading to your core. Given the way your tongue was moving around his, you needed him bad. So, he gave in.

Gently, he placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back onto the couch. You feel back with a surprised grunt, the couch creaking loudly as you hit the black leather cushions. You panted, bracing yourself on your elbows as you watched your husband crawl onto the couch and up your body.

The sight had your pussy aching. His long brown hair was falling into his face, and the smile on his wet lips was absolutely sinful. Your thighs pressed together, but he was quicker. He pulled them apart fast and harsh, making you gasp.

"Poor baby." He crooned, kissing your inner thigh. "Left you alone too long." He kissed higher that time. "You missed me so bad, didn't you, honey?"

You were gasping, nodding your head along frantically as you looked down at him, curious as to what he was going to do.

"Mm I know you did." He said, his mouth coming into contact with your dripping core through your soaked through panties. "This pretty little pussy tells me so anyway."

He mouthed at the fabric, his lips brushing through the tiny wet spot on it. You made a little noise at it, your hands shooting to his head, your fingers threading through his long hair.

Your voice came out in a pathetic little plea that had him twitching through his boxers. He swallowed thickly, kissed your cunt one more time, then rose up your body like the sun on a Saturday morning.

"James," you moaned, tugging at his scalp. He looked up at you and hummed. "Please fuck me. I need it so bad, baby."

His leg nestled between your thick things, his knee nudging right where you needed him most. His arms were braced by the sides of your face, and he was looking down at you with a blank, stern face than had your thighs clenching around his thigh.

"Beg." He said, his knee nudging your cunt. You mewled, your head falling back weakly. Your hips bucked, and moved without your permission, and your cunt dragged across the denim of his jeans.

"Alright," he said. "Show me how much you missed me."

"Please, baby." You cried, clawing at his sleeved forearms with big eyes. "Missed you so much. Just need your cock in me so bad, Bucky." You were breathless, grinding against his thick, muscular thigh helplessly like it was the only fucking thing keeping you alive. He looked down at your little movements and grinned.

He sat back on his knees, quick hands working to discard the black leather belt around his waist like it was only an obstacle in his way of getting to his goal. The second the belt was off, you were on him. Your panties were off in almost an instant, and you were straddling his lap faster than you could say the word 'go.'

Bucky placed his hands on your hips, watching carefully as you lowered yourself onto his thick, heavy cock, which you stood up with the palm of your hand. The both of you groaned as he entered you fully, stretching you out completely to accommodate his length.

You were moving immediately, rolling your hips across his lap at a controlled pace that wasn't exactly fast but wasn't slow either. His hands stayed on your hips to keep you balanced, and your hands stayed on his shoulders for extra support.

"Yeah, that's right, honey." He moaned back into your ear, his hands sliding down to your ass to cup your flesh into his large hands. You squealed, the sensation urging you on. You removed your face from his neck, and you sped up, bouncing on your husband fat cock like a bitch in fucking heat. In a way, you were. You just couldn't stop clinging onto him like you were scared someone was going to take him from you.

"Oh fuck." You moaned, almost directly into his ear as you lowered your face onto his shoulder, your pace speeding up by just a tad. Usually, Bucky spent hours with just foreplay, but tonight, you seemed to have the upper hand and we're straight to the point. He was almost shocked by it.

"Ride me, pretty girl." He growled into your ear, spanking your ass and making you audibly yelp. "Just like that, honey. You missed this? Hmm?" He questioned as if he already didn't have the answer right in front of him. You closed your eyes and moaned gutteraly, your head lulling back as you moved up and down on his lap.

"I thought about it too, baby." He agreed, lowering his head to look down at where your bodied we're combined.

"Yeah--yeah. Fuck! Mm-thought about it everyday you were gone." You admitted between gasps and moans. Bucky just chuckled deeply, finding the answer amusing.

Sweet, lewd, loud, wet and utterly obscene little gushy noises were echoed throughout your bedroom as you rode him like a goddamned rodeo. The little noises combined with little noises the two of you made with your mouths, was a recipe for your pussy squirting all over him.

You grabbed his shoulders then, slowly as to not hurt yourself, lowered yourself all the way down onto your husbands cock until you hit the hilt. His cockhead brushed against a particular sweet spot in you, and you straight up whimpered and threw your head on his shoulders once again, moaning loudly as you slowly fucked yourself into that spot with his cock.

"James," you panted.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Take over, please." You moaned, palming your breast lightly. He grinned, giving you that kind of look that read, "I thought you'd never ask," and in an instant, you were flipped back on your back and he was already back on fucking you.

Bucky pulled out of you just a couple inches before he slammed back into you, making you cry out and claw at his forearms like you would die if you didn't. Chants of his name left your lips like a goddamn mantra. The couch creaked and moved slightly under your moving bodies, joining with your panting and little wet sounds of his cock pushing into you.

"Oh, fuck, sugar." He moaned, rough and gutteral. "Little pussy's squeezing me so tight. Oh, poor thing needed my cock in her so bad, hmm?"

He pulled back a bit, just to pin your knees to your chest, folding you in half and making you feel ten time more embarrassed and exposed than you already were. The new position made it easy for him to sink deeper into you, and deeper he went. So deep that your mouth flew open in shock and you swore your vision went white for a moment.

"Greedy little thing, especially this pussy." He groaned, smiling down on you devilishly and making your pussy flutter. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss, making you whimper and whine into his mouth as he thrust into you hard and fast.

"Keep up, pretty girl." He said, leaning down to kiss your neck. Your head lulled back into the cushion of the couch and your vision blurred into the ceiling.

"You begged for this." He reminded, letting your legs fall back down so he could rub your clit with a vibranium middle finger. You gasped, and your walls clamped down on him tight. He groaned.

"You gonna cum soon, gorgeous?"

"Oh fuck, there she is." He laughed darkly, tilting his head. You closed your eyes and moaned loudly, your heels scraping his back, your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

His voice rang in your ears like a sweet melody, but all you could focus on mentally was how fucking amazing it finally felt to be dicked down by him like this after so long. The sex was so good that you wanted to cry.

"Yeah," you breathed. His finger rubbed harsh circles into your tiny little button, making you moan so loud that it almost sounded pornographic. His cock twitched, and your drooling pussy throbbed for more friction--more anything.

The words fell from your lips in a sweet, broken plead.

"Yeah, gonna cum soon." You repeated, opening your eyes to lock with his. "Want--want you to cum.. in-inside."

And then something snapped in the both of you, and you found yourself gripping his shoulders tight and holding your breath as you slowly started pouring down on him like milky raindrops.

Bucky looked down at the little white ring forming around his thick cock, and moaned. You came gushing out on him warm and messy. The both of you were moaning and panting, but he didn't stop. He kept fucking into you slowly, rocking his fat cock into your sobbing pussy--in and out, in and out, until he finally lost control and a thick, hot stream of his cum came spurring into your warmth.

You mewled at the intoxicating sensation of him filling you, and a few seconds later, he was collapsing onto the cushion next to you and spooning you against his broad chest.

The room was silent for several minutes while the both of you tried to catch your breath, but once he had decided he was fine, he leaned into you and chuckled, "we haven't done that in a while."

[heesimp]

step dad heeseung whos soo manipulative toward you, always shushing you and saying its okay, praising you and telling you how much better you are but you have to keep it a secret 🫣

unedited and sorry for the late responses. just a little busy!

content warnings: dubcon, creampie, mentions of making porn, stepdad!hee

++++

You truly don’t know how he does it. Heeseung knows how to say all the right things and make your guilt and worries fade away with a simple touch of his hands.

It started so innocently at first. His compliments felt too inappropriate for a stepdad, but Heeseung always told you he said the truth. Then it was holding your hand in public when the two of you were alone. It’s just to keep you safe so he’ll know where you are at all times.

Then it crossed a boundary. Heeseung kissing your cheek when he sees you because he says that’s what good stepfathers do. Touching your body because you look tense and need to relax. Eating your pussy because he wants you to know what it feels like should you ever get a boyfriend. Making you stroke his cock so you know how to do it when the time eventually comes.

And then there’s tonight.

Heeseung’s naked body is pressed directly on top of yours underneath the blankets like it makes all of it okay. He insisted that you slept next to him because his wife was out of town, and it made sense when he gave you those deer eyes and told you he missed you. Even when he pulled your ass close to his crotch under the guise of cuddling you, did it feel normal and common practice.

He’s no stranger to the feeling of your pussy, nor do you shy away from his big, leaking cock. Heeseung kisses your throat and puts you on your back as he slides your panties down your leg until his bare cock situates itself against your wet, puffy folds.

“My princess,” he mutters against your lips. The wet smacks, paired with the wet squelched, makes Heeseung feel like he’s in some movie. “Feels good, yeah?”

“S-So good,” you squeak. His hot, building tip keeps brushing against your erect clit.

“Doing so good f’me. Can I put my dick inside? Let me make you feel good, baby. Please let me feel you.”

Who are you to say no?

The stretch is almost unbearable but Heeseung shushes your cries with his lips. You focus on kissing him and keeping your legs spread open to accommodate his tall body. Heeseung’s hands rub circles against your hip in an attempt to soothe the pain, and he forces himself not to shove the entirety of his cock into you.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he moans against you. He pushes another inch inside. “I could do this all day if you let me.”

“Please…”

“You want that?” Heeseung taunts. “Want my dick in you all the time?”

“I do, but…it feels wrong.”

He shakes his head and kisses you tenderly. “What’s wrong about having sex with someone you love? Don’t you love me?”

“I do…”

“I love you, baby.” He kisses you again and bottoms out, balls pressed to your ass. Heeseung hears you gasp and feels you clamor for his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him in an attempt to ground yourself. “I’ll show you what good sex feels like, but you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

And it goes like that. You cum first. He cums inside of you too, but doesn’t let up. It’s like your pussy was made for him with the way you’re taking it like a champ.

“So much better than your mom,” he mutters as he slangs his hips. The sound makes him so hard that he thinks he might burst any second. “We could be fucking all day.”

Heeseung smirks when you moan and when he feels you clench around him. He’s so hard that it hurts. He doesn’t get like that with anyone else.

“I know you like it when I’m inside you,” Heeseung whispers by your ear. His warmth breath makes your toes curl and paired with his thrusts, you wonder if this is what Heaven feels like. “Might take a picture so I can fuck myself to you when you’re away.”

He grins like a madman when you arch your back and moan.

“Yeah? My pretty stepdaughter wants to make porn with me, doesn’t she?” Heeseung’s dick lodges deeper inside of you. “Slutty little pornstar. I’ll make you cum and squirt on camera.”

“Oh god!”

“So hot.” He lifts himself up and braces both palms beside your head when he starts lifting his hips to plow right into you until you’re both finishing at the same time. He pulls out quickly, but not enough to spare you from the dripping cum that hits your slit and leaks down your body.

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader | Chapter 1 - Sitters NYC

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, no warnings apply for this chapter.

A/N: A multipart series?? From me?? who would've thought. We'll have to see where this goes and whether I'll keep it up lmao. Let me know what you think!

Read it on AO3 Chapter 2

1.9K words

“You said babysitter, I get a babysitter, problem solved!” Alexei exclaimed. The girl pinched the skin between her eyebrows, taking a few breaths before turning back to Alexei. 

“I didn’t mean an actual babysitter! I meant a trained professional! Or at least someone with a background check.”

This had been going on for about 5 minutes, ever since you’d arrived at the penthouse of the rebranded Avenger’s Tower. 

“Look, there’s clearly been a misunderstanding here. I can just, you know, leave,” you shrugged to the elevator, slowly picking your bag back up to leave. 

“No, no! You don’t leave. Just wait here,” Alexei insisted. You put your bag back on the floor, unsure of what to do next. 

You should’ve known as soon as the man contacted you through the Sitters NYC app that it was a bust. Who even has kids that need sitting in a place like this? You could still go back to Mrs. Lowinski, go back to cat-sitting the woman’s 17 Sphynx cats. But the lingering cat smell… Not to mention the fact that naked cats get their skin oils everywhere... No— this was a safe bet. 

The duo argued some more before the girl, Lena?, turned to you with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’re very nice and that my father offered you good money, but we had a bit of miscommunication about how to solve a problem. I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s okay, really. Thanks for the generous offer, anyway, Alexei,” you thanked the man with a thin smile, once again picking up your damn bag and heading for the elevator. 

Alexei yelled after you again to wait, but it was clear the man wouldn’t get his way, unfortunately for you. You gave him a sad wave and pressed the button for the elevator. As the doors opened, someone was about to step out when you were about to step inside. You did the awkward side-shuffle to get out of each other's way before he laughed and let you go first. You turned to stand facing the doors and caught a last glimpse of the man’s unruly brown hair before they closed.

✶

“Who was that?” Bob asked as the doors closed. 

“Your babysitter, if it was up to Alexei. We’re trying to find a reliable person who can stay here with you when we go out on missions, but Alexei took it upon himself to get an actual babysitter. For kids. Or cats. Or birds, apparently,” Yelena sighed. 

“You ask for trained professional with background check. We don’t even pass background check!” Alexei shouted. He did have a point, there. 

Bob was about to argue he didn’t need a babysitter, but he probably actually did. He couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts for too long, or he’d spiral real fast. Not good. 

“I mean, besides the company I really don’t think I need someone with much experience or training,” he shrugged. 

“See! Bob agrees. Sitter is sitter,” Alexei grumbled. 

“We’ll talk about this over dinner with the rest of the team,” Yelena spoke, and it was the final word. 

✶

You walked out of the grocery store enlightened. That’s where you’d seen the father-daughter duo before. The Wheaties box. They were part of the so-called ‘New Avengers’. It had been a few months since The Blackout, but you remembered it well. One second you’d been filling the 17 food bowls in Mrs. Lowinski’s kitchen, the next you were back in your childhood home.

You unlocked the front door and loaded your groceries in the cabinets and fridge. You sighed as you sat down on the couch, ready to call Mrs. Lowinski for your job back and to get back on Sitters NYC for more part-time work you could combine with your online classes.

Manhattan - Full-time 3 Children, aged 4, 6 & 9

Brooklyn - Part-time  4 Dogs

Queens - Au Pair 2 Children, aged 5 & 7 1 Cat

Manhattan - Part-time 3 Birds 1 Dog

Manhattan - Part-time 1 Child, age UNDISCLOSED

Ah, Alexei hadn’t taken the ad down yet. He’d been so nice, too. From what he’d described, you figured it was an older child, possibly a teenager, even, who needed someone to spend some time with every now and then. Not allowed to go out by themselves too much, irregular schedule, possible overnight stays. Nothing you couldn’t handle. Too bad it had been a misunderstanding. 

You walked into the kitchen and got ready to prepare dinner for one, again. One day you might put yourself out there. ‘Find someone real nice to take care of you,’ as Mrs. Lowinski had insisted. God, you had really spent too much time with the elderly woman. 

✶

“It really doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Ava spoke as she munched on some broccoli. 

“It’s not a bad idea, per se, it’s more that there’s factors we need to account for that Alexei overlooked. Like the fact that Bob is essentially a weapon that could be taken advantage of by the wrong person if we let them get too close,” Yelena had a point. 

“I’m not that naive…” Bob chimed in, but everybody knew he was easily influenced. Not to mention he couldn’t control The Void, and where The Sentry was, The Void followed. They couldn’t risk it. 

“I ran a background check, she’s just a college student. We can try it out with the next mission and see if Bob likes her. That’s the most important part, after all,” John argued. He grabbed the pot of potatoes and loaded a pile onto his plate, never satiated. 

“Bob, be like John, eat loads of potatoes. Good for strength,” Alexei’s mouth was full as he spoke. Bob gave him a small smile in acknowledgement, raising his fork which had a potato on it. 

“What does Bucky think?” Ava asked. The man rarely joined them for dinner, usually ‘too busy.’ 

“Haven’t spoken with him about it yet. I’ll call him after dinner to discuss. We need something if we’re gonna be as busy as Valentina is implying we’ll be,” Yelena sighed, stuffing her mouth with chicken. 

“Bob, can you pass me the salt?” She asked, mouth full. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

They finished dinner and Bob went to clean up as usual while Yelena called Bucky on speakerphone, still at the dining table. 

“I mean if she passed a background check I see no issue with at least trying it out. It’s not like we have many other options. He doesn’t need an actual caretaker. At least she’s somewhat his age, right? Maybe a little younger?” Bucky’s voice boomed from the phone and filled the room. The man was so up to date with technology, yet was still convinced he needed to talk louder if he was on speaker. 

“I guess. I’ll have Alexei call her back. But it’s NOT my fault if this all goes wrong!” Yelena made it very clear. She was not about to be blamed if this ended in disaster. Best possible outcome; the girl did fine, blended in and spent time with Bob. Worst possible outcome? Who knows. 

✶

”Are you really sure this time?” You asked Alexei over the phone. You’d been down this road with him before. 

“Yes, Yelena asked me to call you herself. You come by tonight to meet the team and meet Bob. Will be fun!” 

“Alright, I’ll be there by 9,” you confirmed. Who named their child Bob in this day and age? 

“See you at 9!” Alexei boasted. The man hung up and you stared at your phone bewildered. He better be right. You better not be going back there for nothing again.

If you wanted to be on time, you’d have to leave soon. You put your shoes back on, grabbed your headphones and bag and ran back out the door. You locked it behind you and sped down the stairs of your building. 

You walked to the subway station and put your earbuds in. Luckily the tower was only a few stops away, or this whole ordeal might’ve been more of a nuisance. The lights flickered irregularly as the metrocar shook through the underground. It seemed as though it was having more trouble than usual, but your trip was short, it didn’t matter as long as you got to your destination. 

The car shook some more as you got off, but it was no longer of any worry. You ran up the stairs of the station and were once again met directly with the entrance to the tower, the second time today. 

You walked back in and pressed the button for the elevator to come down. You sighed and got on, pressing the button for the penthouse and waited for the doors to close. The last thing you saw before they closed was the glass entrance of the tower being shattered. You flinched on instinct, but the elevator was already taking you up and away from the danger. Your heart thrummed in your chest. Was it just an accident, or was something bigger going on? 

Your question was soon answered by an announcement over the intercom. Everybody below the top twenty floors had to evacuate the building. Not you, then. Still, you were worried. 

The elevator came to a halt at the penthouse, doors sliding open agonizingly slow. You were met with a ruckus of people walking around yelling at each other. 

“Babysitter is here!” Alexei yelled as he tugged a red mask over his face. 

“Well that’s great timing, I guess,” Yelena spoke as she sheathed a few knives. She turned to look at you. 

“Bob is in the kitchen. You just need to keep him company for now while we go deal with whatever is going on on the street. We’ll explain everything when we get back. Whatever you do, try to keep him happy, distracted and away from danger. If anything happens to him, your funeral.” The instructions (and threat) were clear. 

Several people with an assortment of weapons bustled around you as you found your way to the kitchen. You looked around for a child, but there didn’t seem to be one in here. The only person you found was the guy you saw getting off the elevator earlier today, with the comfy outfit and tousled hair. He was seated at the breakfast island, watching as the others got ready for what you assumed would be quite the fight. 

“Uh, hi?” It came out as a question unintentionally. He turned to you, your first time catching a good look at his face. 

“Oh! Hi, uhm, you must be the, uh, sitter?” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. You nodded, putting your bag on the counter and looking him over. You looked around again, no child or teen in sight. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, getting ready for battle?” You mimicked a fighting pose. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“No, it’s usually best to keep me as far away from those kinds of situations as possible…” He looked away, obviously not proud of the fact.

You sought out eye contact and reached out your hand. He looked at it before looking back to your eyes, tentatively reaching out. You introduced yourself and stretched your hand out further, encouraging him to take it. He was like a skittish kitten.

“I’m Bob,” was all you heard before your vision was delved in black and you returned to a memory from a past life left behind.

CHAPTER 2

[peachylynnie]

what jewelry they like on you

word count: ~300-400 per lead contains: lads men x non!mc reader, established relationship, they all adore you, jewelry descriptions, fluff, suggestive themes (sylus, rafayel, and caleb), and did i mention fluff? make it toothrotting. a/n: it's midterm season so headcanons it is. again, these are headcanons so i'm not saying i'm right. just my silly little interpretations. inspired by my impulsive buy of a bracelet the other day. no, my wallet hasn't recovered. reblogs and comments are always appreciated! tagged: @vvintqz (a little headcanon for xavier, lmk if u want me to stop tagging) lads masterlist

sylus

necklaces all the way

has a preference for silver chains with red or black charms

it's his signature colors on your pretty neck

loves it even more when the charm rests between your collarbones

if you want his nose to bleed, wear a long necklace

yes, the one that goes all the way down to your chest

but if you really want to get him going

wear a choker

doesn't even have to be a chain type or have charms

if it's a choker, he'll fold, like dogs to a bone

you can't blame him

it enticingly accentuates the rest of your neck and collarbones, the two places he likes to leave marks on

don't worry if you're hypoallergenic (like me)

he only ever gets you the finest of materials, even if you point out the cost

not that you mind or anything

"sylus," you whine.

you're going to be late. again. all because of this silver-haired man who's refusing to leave your neck alone.

"sylus!" you gasp when he tugs down the choker, his dewy lips taking advantage of the newly exposed spot.

you're starting to regret wearing a choker (not really). you thought it went well with your outfit. and it did! it added a little pop to your look, and you were excited to wear it for the first time in a while.

"hey!" you squirm in his embrace when you feel the poke of his teeth. "no marks!"

"does it really matter, sweetie?" he asks nonchalantly before continuing his assault on your neck. he loves how his tongue occasionally meets with the smooth fabric of your choker. "this," he tugs on it some more, eliciting a soft whimper from you. "will cover them."

sighing, you make a mental note to apologize to your friends for being late when you meet them.

xavier

earrings

especially studs or the mini drop ones that come in cute graphic designs.

there's just something about the way the adorable little charms hang from your ears

really, he thinks they complement your face shape

and he loves to cup your face whenever

but when you wear the ones that are star-themed

he's looking at you as if you're the one who hung them up in the night sky

seriously, he's never seen anything more beautiful

it also strokes his jealousy (?) in a way (cuz yk he's all abt the stars)

but that's worth like...less than 1% of the experience

he just really loves seeing you wear them

don't worry if your ears aren't pierced

clip-ons are a thing, and he'll make sure to get that ones that are both high quality and comfortable

he also loves watching you put them on

his cheeks hurt from smiling too much. he tries to cover his rosy face when you lean towards the mirror.

you're adjusting the backing of your new star stud. furrowing your brows, you tilt your head to the side for a better look.

xavier swears he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life. here you are, making something so simple as adjusting an earring look so skillful and charming.

"done!" you secure the backing and spin around to show your boyfriend. "what do you think?"

"yeah," he nods softly. "i think you're glowing."

you giggle and embrace him tightly.

"thanks for surprising me with them," you chirp, peering up at him.

the stars on your ears shine. no different from your eyes.

"anything for you, starlight," he whispers, stroking your cheek with a thumb. "anything for you."

rafayel

bracelets

listen

we all know this man is a FIEND for our hands

i may not have all of his five-star cards

but tell me why it is that in all the ones i have, he's YEARNING for our hands at some point

jumps at every chance to help you put one on

has a thing for cuff bracelets

like the metal swirly ones that hold a jewel in the middle

they exude the sense of royalty in a way (he's a god so)

most definitely has designed some for you too

and by some, i mean numerous

what's really heartwarming about that though is that he collects the materials himself

the amount of seashells he has preserved for you

but back to him being down bad for our hands

there's something about the way cuff accompanies the bare skin of your wrist and gently presses against your pulse

he's in heaven whenever he nuzzles against your wrist and feels the cool metal graze his heated skin.

"wait," you squint at the bracelet rafayel just secured around your wrist. "did you design this?"

"yup," he answers with a puffed chest. "good eye, cutie. how'd you know?"

you roll your eyes lovingly.

"first of all, i'm your partner, raf." turning your wrist, you admire the intricate swirls of the cuff. "second of all, your works normally have a trademark."

"oh?" he grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, his lips already tracing your wrist. "and what would that be?"

you try not to shudder when his siren eyes meet yours.

"isn't this from one of your lemuria collections?" you shakily gesture towards the sapphire seashell crested on top. "you always reference lemuria in your works, right?"

"wrong," his tongue darts out, savoring your quickened pulse as punishment for your incorrect answer. "it's not just lemuria i always reference in my works."

he tightens the cuff.

"it's you, cutie."

zayne

rings

he loves the subtlety of them

especially the ones made out of thinner bands

they bring out the beauty of your fingers

he loves the way they shine whenever you move your hands too

let's say the two of you are at a cafe

sitting across from each other and reading novels

except he gets distracted (in a good way) whenever your flip a page

your ring glimmers in the sunlight that's peeking through the window

oh wow, not only is there a halo over your head, there's a halo around your finger too

he can't help but reach out at some point

and trace your left ring finger

imagining what it would be like to gift you one

a simple one that conveys an impactful message

one he hopes you'll say yes to

and bound not only both his and your left ring fingers

but also your souls to each other

"zayne? are you alright?"

he snaps out of his thoughts, lifting his chin from his palm.

"sorry," he apologizes as smoothly as he can. "could you repeat that?"

you smile endearingly. his heart beats rapidly.

"i asked if you were alright."

"yes," he answers before clearing his throat. "yes, of course. why?"

"oh, it's just," you giggle. "you're still tracing my finger."

zayne immediately retracts his hand.

"sorry," he apologizes again. this time profusely. "did i make you uncomfortable?"

"no, no," you immediately reassure. "i liked it. it's just you were doing it for a while..." you pause before continuing. "i thought you were checking for dead skin or something."

zayne blinks.

"you thought i was checking for dead skin?" he repeats incredulously.

you nod slowly. now it's your turn to be flustered.

at that, he chuckles with a shake of his head and returns to tracing your left finger, ignoring your amusing assurances about how you always wash your hands thoroughly.

yes, he's most definitely going to marry you.

caleb

anklets

this totally wasn't inspired by that one scene in the main story where he pins our leg down with his evol

nope not at all

i don't know what you're talking about

he likes the ones that come with dangly charms

this is because he can hear you whenever you move

interpret that however you want

but really, he loves how the sound gets louder and louder

because that means you're moving TOWARDS him

he wants to gift you a whole bunch of charms

specifically apple and sky themed

it's over for him if you wear it while your legs are exposed

that man is on the floor, his hands haphazardly roaming up and down your bare skin

and when he notices the anklet with the charms that he gifted?

it's over for you

his fingers are slipping underneath the anklet, wrapping around your ankle, and pulling you to him

where's his face at?

uhhhhh

you're trying to control your breathing. you really are. but it's hard to when there's a man, an incredibly gorgeous one with lavender eyes deep enough to engulf you whole, settled in front of you, specifically in between your legs.

thankfully (not really), he hasn't done anything yet. he's just kneeling there with his metal fingers snaked around your ankle and his eyes transfixed on the anklet you decided to wear.

"uhm," you start, nervously shifting on the couch. "is there something wrong with my ankle, caleb?"

he finally looks at you. you can't tell if he's angry. definitely not with your foot resting against his broad shoulder.

"nothing's wrong, pips." he speaks after an eternity.

you sigh in relief. eager to get out of this compromising position, you try to put your foot down. keyword: try.

"caleb, what-"

"when did you put the charm on?"

"oh, uh," you notice him looking at the anklet again, but more at the apple charm. it has a snake coiled around it. "a while ago? i think as soon as you gave it to me."

he breathes in sharply.

you think it's over when he releases you. you're proven wrong when he grabs both of your ankles and drags you to the end of the couch, his chin dangerously close to your core.

"you really don't make it easy for me, pips."

[pythonmoth]

cw: anxiety. post-traumatic stress disorder (torture). reader is traumatized. reader is a bit unreliable. military inaccuracies. hurt/comfort (I guess?).

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

First | Last | Next

Being home is incredibly boring, especially if you can't move much.

Your brother's been taking care of you, making sure you're eating, that you let your injuries breathe, and soon enough, the cuts on your feet allow you to move around on your own. It takes a whole month for your brother to leave you alone for longer than a few hours. It's a good thing, really, because if you want to spend hours just laying in your bed and crying in silence as you stare at the ceiling, you can. He would only come whenever you needed a ride, anyway.

Despite being able to move around and now even managing to use your sensitive fingers, you dread the idea of going outside. You have to wear sandals and loose pants, because your toes cannot, by any means, be touched by any kind of fabric yet, or else you're grimacing in pain. Feeling defenseless hasn't been a thing ever since you became part of the team. Not even your skills could take down Simon, but you could put up a fight with them all, easily; never won, but you were confident with anyone else on the street.

No doubt you could still beat them up, your skills are still there, but the idea of someone somehow restricting your movements felt like torture all over again. The idea of anyone getting a hold of you makes you want to throw up. Your mind and body betray you, making you remember those awful moments, and you don't realize you're pulling a face.

"You're spacing out".

You look up at the therapist, giving her a little nod as an apology, getting comfortable on the seat. Restless, you can't help but look around for a moment again. The office is incredibly white, clean, filled with mirrors for whatever fucked up reason, and the only thing that isn't grey or white is one of the cushions on the couch on the other side of the room. It's deep purple. It looks awful.

Seemingly realizing you won't be of much help with the question she just asked you, she gives you a smile. "How are your nails? I can see you're using your hands a lot more".

"They're healing" you reply, looking down at your fingers instead of focusing on the cushion. "I can use my hands pretty normally now, but I can't use the stove for long".

"Because of the heat". An affirmation. You've already mention it before, and you're not surprised she remembers that. Probably read it on her notes.

"It hurts, yeah".

"And how are your feet?" she asks, looking down at the way you absentmindedly drag your hands on your pants from your thighs to your calves in slow movements. You only realize what you're doing because you can hear the way her pen drags across the paper, distracting you.

"Well... I can only wear sandals. Doctor said I should be okay to move around with real shoes in three months".

"And what do you think?"

"He's the doctor. I want to believe he knows what he's doing, so I can't really question it. I do hope it heals sooner, though".

The therapist writes down on her notebook. With an uncomfortable feeling, you desperately want to know what she's writing, your eyes drifting to the movement of the pen, but you can't make out a single letter.

"So you trust the doctor, right?" she questions, moving one of her erasers to the other side of her desk. Your eyes are fixed entirely on it, on the little thud the eraser makes when she sets it down.

"He knows best, that's for sure. If he's there, must be a reason" you answer, tilting your head as she keeps moving her things around, making them fit somewhere else on her desk. The pencil goes to the left, then to the right, the eraser from top to bottom of the notebook, as if she's as antsy as you are.

"Do you apply that thought somewhere else? Like... at work? Or if you need help at a store and find an employee, maybe?"

The therapist's eyes are on you all the time, your hands, your anxious feet; your little habits coming to light with a single look. The way you bite the inside of your lower lip, the little double blink you make when she moves something in her desk yet again, even if you don't say anything.

"Of course. If they know their way around, it's only right that I ask for help, and trust that" you answer, frowning. You don't think that question is relevant at all, but she keeps writing, and writing.

"I see. Thank you. Now, you mentioned you've been texting G- Simon. Can you tell me how it makes you feel?"

You go silent for a moment, your fingertips dragging across your arm, so softly you can barely feel it. "It's better now".

During the first three months of being home, Simon would text you nearly every single day. He didn't expect a text back and you knew that, because you told him you wouldn't promise to be responsive. Simon would send you pictures of their plain meals, of Gaz sleeping on your bed, Johnny posing next to Price with their thumbs up, or terrible selfies of himself. Always without a mask.

Tuesday

11:27

"Price scolded Johnny because he had crumbs on his uniform. It was hilarious"

Saturday

03:26

"Just got back. Everyone ok"

Even Johnny would text you from time to time. It was mostly memes, awful stickers or ridiculous, random photos of Gaz mid talking, his face weird, or Price smacking Simon's head, or the entire team posing for a picture, Gaz' arm hovering to the side as if to hug your shoulders. You didn't even need to wonder why Gaz hadn't texted you; that man hated technology with a passion.

Still, you never texted back.

You didn't really pay attention to the texts, or the little voice notes, or the selfies. You didn't feel like reading them properly, always leaving them on seen or just grunting to yourself whenever you heard their distinctive tone. Why you didn't change it in the past few months, you don't know. Maybe that's a question for your therapist.

But then, the texts stop.

Monday

16:49

"Tough job"

"We leave at midnight"

23:42

"Text you when we're back"

Only, Simon doesn't text back. For days. For weeks.

You can't pretend you're not worried. It's impossible, really. You're half-tempted to call him, but you can't, you don't know how it will feel to hear his voice again. He said he'd text you and he hasn't, so he isn't back yet, and you don't want to feel vulnerable by opening up. Yet.

You go through Simon's chat, actually paying attention to whatever he sent you. You realize he sometimes sent you long texts, apologizing, accepting what he did, and even a few voice notes that you didn't notice before. They made your heart race as you listened.

"I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I love you, and you don't have to forgive me"

"Garrick told me to tell you that if you aren't eating he'll go and— shut the hell up, Johnny, I'm talking!"

"Tell her we'll go visit her by the end of the month".

That's Price's voice, you realize.

Feeling incredibly choked up, you check Johnny's chat next. You're expecting to find nothing but memes, as you've seen in passing, but when you see he sent you long, long texts, you finally let yourself cry properly.

He's been apologizing since the day you left, too afraid to face you but his texts are so poorly written you know he was in a rush, or crying, or both. His voice notes, however... they just make you break.

"I'm so sorry. I can't undo what we did. You don't owe me anything, I just... really hope you can at least tolerate me. If not, please know I'll always care for you. I love you. Goodnight".

Something inside of your chest eases, maybe moved to the point of forgiveness, even if just a moment. Your therapist has been helping you unveil whatever you missed during that day— during the torture. It's been a tough process, and she insisted you visited twice a week instead of once, but it helped. You could now understand.

Still, understanding the situation only makes your worry grow.

"Text you when we're back"

For two long weeks, there's nothing, from nobody. Only silence and fear. For the first time since you left, you're scared for them. Scared you'll have to open the door one day and it'll be Price, or maybe not even him, telling you the team is dead.

On the second week, your therapist says you can give them a call, or text them if it's more comfortable. When you say you can't, she advices you to write them letters.

"Tell them whatever you wish to say. If you're angry, write it. If you're worried, write it. There's no good or bad feelings, and it's only right to feel them. Write them for yourself, and then you can choose to give them to your team, or not".

And you did.

A whole notebook of messy writing, some tears staining the paper, and your hate slowly turned to understanding. Real understanding. Not forgiveness, not yet, but it's progress.

By the third week with no news, you just can't handle it anymore. You press call without a second thought and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest when it rings, and rings, and rings.

Hopeless, you lay in your bed, your mind working overtime as you stare at the ceiling.

A muffled dinging sound startles you awake, shifting on the bed to find your phone because that's Simon's tone. Adjusting your vision, you realize it fell from your hands to the ground when you fell asleep. You dive for it, grimacing when your sensitive fingertips brush against the carpet, but to see his name there is enough for you to endure it.

Thursday

01:22

"Safe. Couldn't text you earlier"

01:22

"You called me. Are you hurt?"

01:22

"Safe. Call me"

"Now"

His name pops up not even a moment later, his ringtone filling your ears. When you pick up, he's barely breathing, and you wonder if you're about to be told bad news.

Simon explains they were on a very tough mission, and that that was why he couldn't text you, or communicate with you at all. You could hear him shift, move around. Restless.

They got caught in enemy territory, surviving the best they could for two weeks, Simon tells you. Johnny was shot in the leg and Gaz was the one who helped him out, since Simon was too busy dragging Price, who was bleeding out because someone decided it would be fun to put a bullet through his left shoulder.

"I wasn't any better. Dr. Wilson called me a dick, and then made me lay down because I was shaking. Ridiculous" he grunts, his voice hushed on the other side of the line. "Got shot on my side, I just didn't feel it, but I was better than the other two".

He doesn't seem to expect you to speak, huffing and shuffling. You can tell he's in the clinic room, the echo incredibly familiar by now.

Of course, he doesn't tell you that the reason why he didn't text you the whole past week, is because he's been asleep, drugged out of his mind because of the pain.

"Everyone's okay. No risk. Garrick's the only one who didn't get hurt. I think—"

"I was worried, Simon. I'm glad everyone is okay".

There's silence for a long moment. Simon takes a deep breath from the other side of the phone, sighing deeply. You could hear the smile in his tone. "I wouldn't let myself get killed, luv. I'm sorry I couldn't text you before. We're safe now".

You two spend the rest of the night on the call, with you mostly staying in silence and listening. You can't believe how scared you've been for all of them, for Simon. You know it's gonna be hard to fully forgive them, if at all, but you can't help the way your body relaxes as you hear him breathing against your ear. You can't help the way your arms curl around the pillow, seeking his warmth. As before.

The call goes on for long hours. When your soft hums as he speaks stop coming to his end, Simon goes quiet, realizing you've fallen asleep. He sighs and shifts to look at the ceiling, holding the phone against his ear. Focusing on your soft breathing, he let's himself fall asleep, the gunshot wound completely unimportant if he gets to listen to you sleeping again.

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

He just wishes you were there.

im so sick y'all, my head hurts, but I obviously couldn't resist! also, you guys like Marina? her new song is so good! mowgli's road's vibes.

the therapist's room I'm describing in the story is actually my therapist's old room. I hated it so BAD. the mirrors were a terrible decision. also, if you can't relate to this type of therapy, that's fine. it's just my experience.

again, styling is fully intentional. can y'all tell how our reader is feeling?~

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird-deactivated202 @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

(we're so many now, wow! thank you all ♡)