#so go ahead and keep pulling this bullshit!!!!!!
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episode one: the vanishing of will byers
˚✧˚. summary: your brother goes missing, Tommy H gets what he deserves, and Mike Wheeler drags you into something downright strange
wc: 6.1k
m.list
notes: hi!!! this is the first chapter of my own rewrite :). i’ve always loved reading stories where you actually go on the adventures with the characters, so i figured why not do it myself? as i’m sure all of you know, im not the best at keeping up with my own stories… so please bare with me!
Your job at Karma Records isn’t very hard, especially since your job just consists of stacking and organizing records and that’s pretty much it. You glance at the clock on the wall, and you sighed as you realized it was already 10:30. The store closed thirty minutes ago, but you stopped getting any customers before the sun had even fully set.
You usually made it a rule not to work late, especially on nights where Will would be home alone. Tonight though was one of the rare nights where Jonathon would be home before you, so you figured there wasn’t any harm in picking up a few extra hours. Especially since you knew your mom could use the extra help. Even though she thought she was good at hiding your financial struggles, you and Jonathon had always known.
“Hey, you ready to lock up?” Your friend, Conner, asks you, his glasses nearly falling off of his nose as he leans against the front counter to look at you. You nod, stretching your arms over your head, your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a relieved moan when your arms slap back down to your thighs. Conner gives you a thumbs up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes a bit as he stands to his full height. Conner is tall, that much is obvious, he has been ever since you were kids and you’d met at the softball field.
“I’ve just gotta finish sweeping up the backroom, but you can go ahead and go.” He says, already beginning to walk away from you.
Your eyebrows furrow as you shrug your jacket on, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping you.”
Conner nods, “Yeah, I know, but Will and Jonathon are waiting for you, and you want to get home before your mom right?” He says the last part teasingly, knowing it was technically against your moms rules for you to work late.
You roll your eyes, “Whatever, it’s not like Will is home alone, Jon is there! And, I mean, seriously, I feel bad leaving you here alone, Conny.”
Conner just shakes his head, walking over to you and practically pushing you out the door. “Go home!” He insists. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, finally agreeing.
You sigh as you walk out of the store. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself as you make the short trek to your car. November in Indiana wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t snowy like it usually was in January, it was more an uncomfortable dry cold. The kind of cold that almost hurt your lungs if you breathed in too hard.
As you walked to your car, you couldn't help but feel almost uncomfortable. You were on one of the main streets in Hawkins, surrounded by stores and streetlights, but you couldn’t help the feeling that you weren’t alone. You glanced behind you, thinking maybe Conner was watching you through the store's glass doors, but he’s not there. Still, the feeling persists.
You swallow, grateful as you finally reach your red ford. The car had been a hand-me down from your dad, the first and only nice thing he’d ever given you. You assumed it was to make up for all of the bullshit he put your family through, but it was going to take more than a car to make you forgive him.
The feeling still lingered even as you pulled out of the parking lot, and you couldn’t help but wonder if something very bad was going to happen.
-
Your twin brother had always been an expert on breakfast foods. You wondered if it was because he’d had to learn considering your lack in cooking skills, or if it was because your mom always burnt pancakes and her eggs were always a bit too watery. Either way, you can’t help the way you inhale the smell of the eggs he’s making, sipping on your coffee at the dining table.
You can hear your mom frantically getting ready, more than likely looking for her keys, which you could see on the table in front of you. “Jonathon, Y/N! Have you seen my keys?” She cries as she suddenly bursts into the kitchen, her eyebrows furrowed.
Jonathon sighs as he continues making breakfast, “Check the couch!” He says, but she just groans. “I already did!” She insists.
You grab the keys off the table, placing your mug down as you walk over to where she’s searching between the cushions. “They’re right here, Mom.”You say, holding them out to her like a prize.
“Oh,” She says relieved, “Thank you, Sweet girl.”
You just hum, going back to where you were sitting at the table. “Are you almost done, Jon?” You ask impatiently, barely able to ignore the grumbling in your stomach. Jonathon just rolls his eyes, “I would be if you’d quit nagging me.” He says, though you know he’s just teasing you.
“Okay, I’m leaving for work,” Your Mom says, leaving a kiss on your head and heading for Jonathon, but she stops in her tracks when she notices the empty chair at the dining table. “Where’s Will?”
You wince, realizing you’d been so focused on your hunger you’d completely forgotten to get him up. “I haven’t gotten him up yet.”
Her head falls back in a groan, “You have to make sure he’s up!” She says, beginning to practically speed walk towards your younger brother's room. You sigh, and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty at making her day harder. “I’ve told you this a thousand times.”
You share a look with Jonathon, when you were Will’s age you were both getting yourselves up, and sometimes you thought maybe it was time Will did the same. “Sorry, mom!” You call down into the hallway, though you doubt she even processes what you said in her hurry.
You grin as you hear the toaster pop, and Jonathon silently places your plate in front of you. You go to immediately dig in, a hum leaving your lips. Your family had always called you a human garbage disposal, because you loved to eat. It was pretty much your love language.
Your mom came back into the room anxiously, a strange look on her face. You’d seen her look worried before, but this felt different. “Will came home last night, right?”
You looked to Jonathon for confirmation, who looked to you. “I- I don’t know, Y/N was home before me last night.” He says. You immediately shook your head, eyes widening a bit. “What? No, I wasn’t. I worked late last night. I thought you got off at eight?”
Jonathon swallowed, “Eric asked me to cover for him last night, and I figured we could use the extra money.”
You can’t help the way your heart drops at the realization that neither you or Jonathon had been home last night. But, surely he had just stayed the night with Mike. This was Hawkins, nothing bad ever happens in Hawkins.
Your mom rubs the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, her eyes squeezing shut. “Guys, we’ve talked about this. You can’t- can’t take shifts when I’m working!”
You swallow, “I’m sorry Mom, I just- it was just a misunderstanding.” Jonathon nods in agreement, leaning against the chair next to you. “He was at the Wheelers all day. I'm sure he just stayed the night.” You feel a bit relieved that Jonathon points this out, because where else would he be?
“I can’t believe you guys,” She mutters, walking towards the phone. “Unbelievable.” You sigh, knowing it was better to let her be angry then try and argue with her, especially when she was right.
You pick at your fingernails anxiously as she calls The Wheelers, that awful feeling from last night creeping back into your stomach, creating an endless pit. It wasn’t uncommon for Will to stay the night at his friends' houses on school nights, but he always made sure it was okay at least a week in advance. He was cautious like that, it was something you loved about him. How careful he was.
That’s why your heart skips a beat when she hangs up the phone, and she doesn’t look any bit relieved.
You and Jonathon spend the entire morning in silence, the both of you entirely too anxious to attempt any kind of small talk. Your mom had called and informed you that Will was not at school or at the arcade or at any of his friends or even at that diner he strangely loves so much. She’d said she was going to file a missing persons report, which still felt entirely impossible.
There was no way Will was actually missing. He was at Mikes all day yesterday! It’s only a ten minute bike from The Wheelers to your house, and Will is cautious. He is careful and he is safe and he knows better than to stray off the route you’d shown him years ago. It seemed entirely impossible that anything could’ve happened in that ten minutes.
You glance to where Jonathon sits next to you on the couch, his expression blank. You swallow, blinking a few times. “He’s fine, right?” You murmur, the first words spoken between the two of you in over an hour. “He just got lost in the woods. We- We’ll find him by tonight, right?” Your eyes begin to fill with an onset of tears, the first of the day.
Jonathon doesn’t say anything, he barely even spares you a glance, and you can’t say you don’t expect it. This is what had happened when your dad had left, he’d gone entirely mute for hours. At the time you’d been annoyed by it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he wouldn’t say a word, not even when you begged him to talk to you. Will had been so young at the time, he didn’t even really understand what was going on. You’re partially grateful for that, you’d rather he grew up without ever remembering what it was like with your father than to have to experience living with him.
Before you can stop it, tears begin to roll down your cheeks, hot and heavy and all too familiar. You can feel your hands shaking from where they sit on your lap, your vision becoming blurred and lower lip wobbling uncontrollably.
This wasn’t real, there wasn’t any way. There has to be a rational explanation for this. This was Hawkins for crying out loud! What’re the chances that the one awful thing to happen in this town happens to your family? Your happy, loving family?
A warm embrace of your shaking hands pulls you from your thoughts, and that’s when you notice that Jonathon is crying too. He isn’t saying anything, and he still isn’t looking at you, but he’s holding your hand. You tighten your fingers around his, place your head on his shoulder, and weep.
For now, this was enough.
-
“Will!”
Your voice is most definitely hoarse by the third hour of you doing this, screaming for your baby brother to no avail. Will hasn’t responded once, and you’re no closer to finding him than you were three hours ago.
Your mom had returned home with… the report. You couldn’t bring yourself to say what it really was anymore, especially not after seeing it in person. It just made it feel too real, and some part of you still believed this was some awful nightmare.
Deep in the woods, you could hear your mom and brother screaming for him, their voices hoarse just like yours. This part of the woods wasn’t new or unfamiliar to you, in fact you knew it like the back of your hand. Castle Byers stood tall and proud in the tiniest clearing, made of wood and covered by a blue tarp. You remember helping Will and Jonathon build it, or, more like you and Jonathon built it and Will just watched in astonishment.
The castle had been almost like you and your twin's passion project after your Dad had left, like a saving grace amidst the chaos that your lives had become. You both acted like it was to help Will, to distract him, but really it was to distract you.
It had worked too, because by the time it was finished the dad-shaped hole in your chest had healed into a dad-shaped scar.
Now, as you flung the makeshift door open, the Castle felt cold and empty. A reminder of what was gone, and a lingering question of if and when it was coming back.
You sighed, some part of you’d been expecting Will to be in there, hiding from the rest of the world to finish some amazing drawing that he’d gotten the idea for.
“Not there, huh?”
Jonathon’s voice behind you nearly sends you flying out of your skin, and you have to place a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Jesus, Jon!”
He gives what seems to be the making of a smile, though it doesn’t quite extend past his cheeks. “Sorry.”
You shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m just… a little on edge, I guess.”
He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. The both of you stare at the structure, neither of you quite knowing what to say as memories flow through the both of you.
“Do you- do you remember the first day we worked on this? When Will insisted on helping me cut the wood?” Jonathon asks you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
A small grimace forms on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself, “How could I forget?”
Six years ago, when you’d built this, Will had insisted on helping Jonathon cut the wood. He was only five years old at the time, but Jonathon had thought as long as he was there to help him it’d be okay. Which, by the way, you would’ve told him was a horrible idea if you’d known he was doing it. You’d been helping your mom make sandwiches for the four of you, when an awful, blood-curdling scream punctured through the four walls of your house.
You and your mom had gone running to find Jonathon bent over and Will sobbing over him, axe in hand. “I’m sorry, Jonny! I’m sorry!”
Will had accidently sent the axe right onto Jonathon’s leg, leaving a massive cut right below his knee. It was gaping and oozing blood so red it was nearly black. The whole ordeal had been terrifying at the time, and ten-year-old you had thought for sure Jonathon would die.
He didn’t obviously, he just needed tons of stitches and ended up with a badass scar. Will never did forgive himself for it though. To this day, he still apologizes to Jonathan for it, though he can barely even remember it happening. You think that’s what makes Will so different from all of you, he is so… so compassionate. So empathetic and more in-tune to his emotions then any other eleven year old on the planet. Jonathon had always told him to stop apologizing, that it was more his fault than anything, but Will never stopped.
Jonathon sniffles from beside you, though you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold wind or the tears in his eyes. “God, I’d kill to hear him apologize one more time.”
You sigh shakily, “I would too.” You insist, eyes filling with tears for the upteenth time today. You wonder to yourself if there would be a point where the tears just stop coming, if Will is going to be gone long enough for that to happen.
You silently pray to God that that doesn’t happen.
By the time 3 o’clock rolls around there’s only one person that you desperately need to talk to, that you know can make you feel better, and that’s Conner.
You’d returned home from your search half an hour ago, the whole thing leading you nowhere closer to finding your brother. You knew it wasn’t… pointless. That it would help you find him, but still, you couldn’t help but worry that you were searching for nothing. That he would never show up.
You needed to talk to Conner.
You dialed his number easily, the digits practically muscle memory at this point. Really, he was the only person outside of your family that you called. You weren’t particularly popular at school, and it’s not like you wanted to be! You were happy with it just being you and Conner. You swallowed as the phone rang, letting yourself lean against the wall as you twisted the phone cord around your free hand.
You frowned when you got his answering machine, though you assumed he must’ve gone straight to work from school. You’d already called off for the day, just like Jonathon and your Mom had. Though, your Mom had called off for the next two weeks.
When Conner doesn’t answer, you sigh, placing the phone back on the wall. Jonathon had shut himself in his room as soon as you got home, and your Mom had driven herself straight back to the police station to hound Hopper again. Leaving you, alone.
You never quite took loneliness well. Jonathon thrived when he was by himself, he found comfort in the silence, whereas you did not. You supposed that was the main difference between the two of you. Yes, you were twins, but really you didn’t think you and Jonathon had many traits in common. Or maybe you did, and you just couldn’t see it.
Either way, you needed to get out. You couldn’t sit here by yourself or you were positive you’d go crazy. Without really thinking, you threw on your shoes and your jacket, letting yourself out through the front door. You practically beelined for your car, the rusty red ford already bringing the slightest bit of comforting warmth to your chest.
You’d always been a bit attached to your car. Driving was comforting for you, and helped you clear your head. You’d always preferred road trips to traveling by plane, though your family could hardly ever afford a plane ticket. You’d always been secretly grateful for that fact.
The car shudders a bit as you force it on, the start of “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac blasting into the air. You quickly shut it off, the cassette popping out of the dash. You don’t even bother putting it back in its rightful case, instead choosing to throw it onto the passenger seat as you search through your cassettes for the song.
You had a routine when you were upset. Get in your car, play the song, and just drive. You never had a destination, just an agenda.
You let out a relieved sigh when you find it, quickly pushing it into the car and listening as the beginning notes of David Bowie's “Heroes” blast through your speakers. The speakers crackle and pop as you force it louder, but you don’t care. You just put the car in drive and go.
-
An hour later, you’re parked at a gas station, filling up your car before you head back home. You’d driven around the entire city of Hawkins twice, which wasn’t very hard to do considering its size, and you listened to the song the entire time.
Your eyes are puffy from crying all day, and a cigarette that you’d stolen from your mom months ago hangs lit between your lips. When you’d taken it, you figured you’d save it for the right time. No better time than the present, right?
It burns your throat and chest as you suck in its toxic chemicals, your free arm is wrapped around your middle while the other takes the cigarette out of your mouth and holds it between your pointer and middle finger.
You were sure there was some kind of danger in filling up your car while you smoke, but you’d seen countless people do it before and nothing happened to them. You tap your foot impatiently against the pavement, watching as the fuel gauge fills ever so slowly.
After what feels like forever, you hear the gas finally pop, signaling to you that it’s done its job and you can finally leave. As you stick it back into the gas pump, the sound of awfully loud music and screeching tires distracts you.
You look up to see Steve Harrington’s fancy BMW zoom into the parking lot, driving into the parking spot behind you and blowing so much wind past you that your hair practically flies all over the place. Your eyes instantly narrow as you turn around to glare at him. To no one’s surprise, he’s not by himself. His idiotic, minion friends Tommy H and Carol are in the car, the both of them laughing their asses off at whatever it is Steve has said.
Steve Harrington was… a prick, to put it lightly. You weren’t the guy's biggest fan, and you never had been. Now that he was dating Nancy Wheeler though? You most definitely can’t stand him.
You and Nancy had never really been friends, but there’d been a time where you were acquaintances, back when you both dressed up for your brother's DnD games and played along. Though now she’d grown out of it and you still played a long if they asked you nice enough.
You understood it, obviously. You were getting older, and she’d crossed the threshold from playing with her brother to being a normal teenage girl. You, it would seem, still had not, and Steve Harrington’s friends went out of their way to make sure you knew it.
Carol is the first to spot you glaring at them, and the sickening smirk that grows on her face is enough to make your movements quicken. You really weren’t in the mood to deal with them today.
You drop your cigarette, squashing it with your foot. The damn thing hadn’t done anything for you anyway, if anything you were just more stressed.
You quickly hop back into your car, turning the key and sighing as it revs back on. You reach for the door handle to slam it shut, but you’re stopped as a hand grabs the door, preventing you from leaving.
You swallow uncomfortably, sighing as you force yourself to look up. You're met with Tommy H’s smiling face, and you can’t help but feel sick at the smell of alcohol already in his breath. Schools been out for.. what? An hour and a half? How was the bastard already drunk?
“We missed you at school today.” He drawls. You can see Carol smiling through the rear view mirror, a freshly lit cigarette between her fingers. Steve is nowhere to be found, and you assume he’s gonna inside to buy whatever it is they came here for,
“Get off of my car, Tommy.” You say neutrally. If there was one thing you’d learned from being relentlessly bullied by these two, it was to not show any sort of distress.
Tommy leans closer to you, though his hand never leaves your car, instead trailing from the door to the hood, his fingers hanging carelessly over the opening from where your door closes. “Why would I do that when I’m just trying to have a decent conversation with you?”
You can’t help the way your face contorts in disgust. “Look, I’ve had a shit day, Tommy-”
“I know, I heard about your brother.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at that. It would seem there really were no secrets in a small town. Though, you’re shocked he found out about it so quickly. You don’t say anything. What can you say anyway? Oh, yeah, that really sucks! See you at school tomorrow? No.
“Yeah, me and Carol or real sorry about that, by the way.” Naively, you wonder if he’s being legit. Tommy H and Carol were awful, obviously, but sometimes you wondered if he wasn’t really that awful. You peek up at him at your own volition, a curious glint in your eye. “Really?”
Tommy snickers, “Of course! I mean, I'd be real depressed if my twin killed my younger brother too!”
You can hear Carol laughing, that awful, snotty laugh that she does when she wants Tommy to feel validated in whatever crap he’s pulling. “Hey, isn’t that called having an evil twin?” Tommy continues his attempts at getting under your skin, but you’re not focused on him anymore. You see Steve walk out of the gas station with a six pack, a confused look in his eye. You think that’s what pisses you off the most. It’s not Tommy’s comment or Carol's laugh, it’s Steve. It’s the fact that he knows what kind of awful people they are, and yet still chooses to be their friend. It makes you see red.
Before you even realize what you're doing, you quickly snatch the car door handle, and slam it shut on Tommy’s fingers. He howls in pain, his eyes going wide as his other hand reaches for the outside handle. You let him open the door, though he doesn’t even care for anything other than his bright red fingers anymore.
You smirk as he cradles them with his other hand, pained grunts still falling from his mouth. You can hear Carol calling for him, and Steve just stands in the middle of the parking lot stupidly, staring back at you through the rearview mirror. You can tell that he has no clue of what just happened, but he’s curious.
You don’t say anything as you slam the door back shut, not even bothering to put on your seatbelt as you speed out of the parking lot.
-
“Where the hell were you?”
It’s not the greeting you’re expecting when you finally get home, though you guess you should’ve considering you just left without even leaving a note.
You swallow, shutting the door behind you slowly. “I just needed to clear my head.” You defend softly.
Your mom scoffs, shaking her head wildly. The bags under her eyes are already much more prominent, and her hair is fraying in places it usually doesn’t. “So- So you just left? With everything going on, you just left without even telling anyone you were leaving?”
You played with your fingers uncomfortably, you knew she was right, but you hadn’t really been thinking properly at the time. It’s the whole reason you left in the first place! “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She just sighs, falling into the couch next to Jonathon. “You- You can’t do that, okay? Especially not right now. I- I can’t. Will’s already gone, if I lost one of you…” She trails off, eyes welling up with tears. It breaks your heart to see your Mother so vulnerable and open. When your dad left, she put on a strong face for the three of you. Never let you see her cry, never let you see her break, so that she could take care of you. Now, it was your turn to take care of her.
You sit into the couch next to her, so that now you and Jonathon are practically sandwiching her between the cushions. “You’re not going to lose us, Mom.” Jonathon murmurs. You agree with him, wrapping your arms around the brown haired woman. Jonathon does the same, and the three of you sit there for who knows how long, just embracing.
That is until Jonathon interrupts it. “Cops.”
You follow the both of them outside, where Chief Jim Hopper and two of his officer buddies are waiting with Will’s bike.
You’d gotten him that Bike for Christmas, it’d taken you months to save up for it. When you gave it to Will, he was so ecstatic he said he’d protect it with his life, and now a voice in the back of your head told you that he had.
“We found it lying over by Shirley.” He says as places the bike onto the porch and allows himself and the other officers inside your home. “It was just lying there?” You mom says in disbelief, sharing a glance with you.
“Yeah. Cal?” Hopper says, signaling to the other officer to do something that you’re not too sure of.
“Will wouldn’t do that.” You defend, “He- He loved that bike.”
Hopper glances at you, continuing his march through the halls “I’m sure he did, Kid.”
“Did it have any blood on it, or-”
“No, no, no, no…Phil?” Hopper murmurs. You can’t stand the way he’s looking through your house like it’s some sort of crime scene, even though you know deep down that it is.
Your childhood home was a crime scene now.
You can tell that Jonathon is growing restless at the amount of one word answers Hopper is giving, because you are too. “If you found the bike out there, then what are you doing here?” He asks, only slightly impatient.
“Well, he had a key to the house, right?” Hopper asks, not even sparing any of you a glance. To be honest, it was pissing you off.
“Yeah.” Jonathon answers.
“So…” He mutters, looking through your kitchen like a fruit fly looking for a rotten apple, “Maybe he came home.”
Your mom immediately scoffs, the idea impossible to her. “What- You think I didn’t check my own house?”
Hopper shakes his head, walking over to the wall next to the door. “I’m not saying that. This always been there?” His fingers glaze over a hole in the wall, right where the door handle would smash into it if opened hard enough.
Your mom sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose impatiently. “I don’t know! I’ve got three kids, two of which are boys. Look at this place.”
Hopper doesn’t say anything, instead swinging the door back and forth as if testing his theory. “You’re not sure?”
The attention is dragged away when Chester starts barking outside, and Hopper goes out there without a word. Your mom follows, though you and Jonathon choose to stay inside.
“I hate that they’re treating this place like a crime scene.” You say softly.
Jonathon swallows, “Well, it is now, isn’t it?”
You're silent for a moment, picking at the skin around your finger nails uncomfortably. “Yeah.” You murmur, “I guess it is.”
-
By the time the sun sets you’ve tried to call Conner a million different times to no avail. His parents aren’t answering either, which worries you even more. With everything that’s going on with Will, you could really use your best friend.
There was going to be a search party for Will tonight, the first of what you desperately hoped wasn’t many. Your family wasn’t going, mostly because Hopper told you not to. He’d said it was best for you to stay home the first few nights, they had enough volunteers and they’d call you as soon as they found anything.
You were practically itching to go though. You wanted to be out there looking for him. What if Hopper scared him and he got even more lost? He wasn’t ever any good around new people.
Your thoughts are interrupted by your mom knocking on your bedroom door, and you let her know it’s okay to come in with a hum. She creaks the door open just wide enough for her to fit through it. “Hey.” She says softly.
You give her a small smile, “Hi.”
She sniffles, leaning against the doorframe. “Me and Jonathon are getting some pictures for the-” She sucks in a breath, the words getting stuck in her throat. “The poster?” You finish for her.
She nods, “The poster.”
Wordlessly, you follow her into the living room where a shoebox full of pictures sits opened on the coffee table, some photos already splayed around the wood. You sit down next to Jonathon on the couch, your eyes scanning over each and every family photo. Lots of them are taken by Jonathon, his love for photography never changing throughout the years.
You snort when you spot a picture of you and Jonathon from before Will was even born. You’re both barely over the age of three, the only thing either of you were wearing being a pampers diaper. You were still practically bald, your hair so thin it looked more like wires than anything else. Jonathon on the other hand, had the thickest head of hair you’d ever seen on a baby!
“You look like the girl in this photo!” You point out with a small laugh, and Jonathon just lets out a puff of air, the closest thing you think you’ll get to a laugh from him.
Your mom sniffles from where she sits beside Jonathon, silently looking through the photos, her eyes subconsciously lingering on the ones of Will.
“I- I know I haven’t been there for the two of you lately.” She says suddenly. Your breath catches in your throat and you shake your head. “No, Mom, c’mon..” You insist.
“I’ve just been working so hard and…” A soft sob escapes her throat, “I just feel bad I don’t even know what’s going on with you guys.” She does her best attempt at a laugh after, though it comes out weak and uncomfortable.
Jonathon seems to be going mute again, and you can’t help the way your eyes build up with tears. She rubs Jonathon’s thigh comfortingly, “What is it, Honey?” She says softly, doing her best to coax a few words out of him.
“Nothing.” He manages, though it comes out coarse, as if he’s holding back tears.
“Come on, tell me.” She insists. Finally, Jonathon breaks. “It’s just… I should’ve been there for him.” He admits, and you feel your heart break in two.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t been having thoughts like that. Thoughts of what if. What if you hadn’t taken that later shift? What if you had double checked with Jonathon? Would Will be home safe, like he was supposed to?
“Jonathon, don’t do that to yourself.” You say softly, tears falling from your own eyes.
“This was not your fault,” Your mom reassures, her other hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Either of you, okay? It wasn't your faults.”
She sucks in a shaky breath, “Will is… is close, I can feel it, in my heart.” She says, her voice wavering slightly though you know she means what she says. It comforts you slightly, knowing that your mom believed so wholly.
She smiles, picking one of the pictures of Will scattered on the coffee place. It’s his sixth grade school photo. He’s smiling, and he’s wearing the outfit you and Jonathon helped him pick out because he insisted on looking just perfect.
“This is the one, right?” She says, and you and Jonathon both nod. “Yeah, it’s his favorite picture.” You say, your voice cracking slightly,
Your mom laughs, staring fondly at the photo, until the phone rings. She drops it back in the coffee table and runs over to it. Your heart practically stops beating, hoping, but also slightly dreading, to hear some news about Will.
“H-Hello?” She says into the phone, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. “Hello? L-Lonnie?” You and Jonathan both share a glance, “Dad?”
You get up from your spot on the couch, walking over to your mom in the hopes if being able to hear whoever’s on the phone. “Hopper? Who is this?”
Suddenly, her breath catches in her throat as she looks at you. “Will?”
Jonathon practically shoots up from the couch, standing next to you. “It’s- It’s will?” You said, a weight coming off of your shoulders. He was alive.
Suddenly, her eyes go wide, no longer with relief, but instead fear. “Who- Who is this? What have you done to my boy?”
“Mom, what’s going on? Who’s on the phone?” You question, the weight suddenly crashing back down, making it nearly impossible for you to breathe. “Give me back my son- oh!” The phone drops from her hand, it clearly having gotten overheated or- or something.
Jonathon dives for it, “Hello? Who is this?”
You immediately go for your Mom, “What did he say?” You insist, but she’s already begun to sob. “He just breathed. He just breathed!” Your breath catches in your throat. So, he hadn’t said anything? Not a clue about where he was? Nothing?
You didn’t have time to dwell on it now as you pulled your mom into an embrace, the both of you crying together.
By the time everyone calms down and your mom finally gets herself to bed it’s pouring and you’re exhausted. You flop onto your bed, though it feels wrong to try and sleep knowing Will isn't right across the hall like he usually is.
You toss and turn for at least half an hour, so you’re beyond grateful at the sound of the landline in your room ringing. You assume it’s Conner finally replying to the hundreds of messages you left him, but you’re shocked when you hear the other voice on the line.
“Y/N? Are you there?”
“Mike?”
You assume he’s calling because he’s scared, just like all of you are. “Mike, is everything all right?”
The phone is silent, though you think you can hear Dustin and Lucas arguing in the background. You can hear Mike take a shaky breath, before he simply says, “We need your help.”
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#stranger things#stranger things season one#will byers#jonathon byers#fanfic#steve harrington#x reader
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through the cold, with you
synopsis: amid the biting cold of patrol, katsuki finds his own way to keep you warm.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: was listening to a song and it went "i would burn my words to warm you up" and i want that kinda devotion tbh
the night air is sharp, biting at your skin as you walk through the quiet streets on patrol. the chill settles into your bones, making your fingers stiff and your nose go numb.
you pull your jacket tighter, but it feels like the cold is winning, no matter what you do.
beside you, katsuki strides ahead, his steps purposeful and his posture as commanding as ever. he doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all.
you try to shake off the discomfort, but the cold is relentless, seeping through your clothes and making it harder to focus.
you force your steps to keep in line with his, but your movements are slower now. every breath feels like it could be your last.
he doesn’t even notice. or so you think.
another few minutes pass, and you feel your teeth start to chatter.
you glance over at katsuki, his fiery gaze locked straight ahead, his usual scowl firmly in place. h
e’s always been the type to push through anything—cold, pain, exhaustion—and now, it feels like the wind is just another enemy to him.
you, on the other hand, are starting to feel the weight of it all.
just as you’re about to speak up, to mention that you’re starting to freeze, katsuki stops walking without warning. his shoulders tense, and you can hear his breath cut through the air.
you blink in confusion as he turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as they sweep over your figure, taking in the subtle signs of discomfort you hadn’t voiced aloud.
“you good?” he asks, voice still rough but softer than usual. his eyes linger on you for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to admit something, to ask for help.
but he doesn’t push.
you hesitate. he’s been protective of you since you first got together, but there’s a difference between that and actually asking for help.
you try to brush it off, giving him a small smile. “yeah, just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”
katsuki eyes you skeptically. “bullshit.”
you don’t have time to react before he steps toward you. before you even realize what’s happening, his hand is reaching for the collar of your coat.
his fingers brush against your skin as he unzips your jacket without a word, then pulls off the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck.
you open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, katsuki is already wrapping it around you, tightening it just enough to offer some protection against the cold.
you blink at him, confused. “katsuki, what—”
“shut up,” he mutters, cutting you off. he adjusts the scarf so it fits snugly around your neck, tucking the ends in carefully. “you’re freezing, and I’m not having you catch a cold.”
he steps back, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he assesses his work.
then, without another word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a thermos—when the hell did he put that in? “here,” he says gruffly, holding it out toward you.
you take it from him, still caught in the bewilderment of what just happened. the warm liquid inside is a welcome relief to your frozen fingers as you take a sip.
katsuki watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. it’s like he’s silently making sure you’re okay, his watchful eyes never leaving you.
“better?” he asks, his tone a bit soft. there’s something protective in his voice, the kind of thing you never used to hear from him. you take another sip of the drink, nodding.
“yeah, much better. thanks.”
he huffs, his lips twitching in that small, familiar smirk that only you get to see. “you better be, or I’ll drag you back home and shove you under a heater myself.”
you laugh, the sound warmer than it’s been in the last hour. his eyes soften for a second, and for a moment, you swear you catch a flicker of something affectionate in them before it’s gone.
it’s like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but there’s no mistaking the care he’s showing.
you glance up at him as the silence stretches, a little unsure of what to say next. but he’s already taking a step forward again, his body language a silent invitation for you to follow.
“come on,” he says, his voice commanding as ever. “let’s get this patrol over with.”
you start walking beside him again, feeling the warmth of the scarf wrap around your neck like a promise.
the cold is still there, but it’s manageable now. it’s bearable. and, somehow, his presence seems to push it away, too.
you can feel the heat from his side, the way his body radiates strength, and the knowledge that he’s always looking out for you, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.
as you walk beside him, you try to ignore the soft smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.
he might act like he doesn’t care much for these things—gestures of affection, quiet acts of love—but he shows it in his own way. and, in the end, that’s all that matters.
katsuki steps forward again, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you into his chest with surprising force.
“stop shivering, damn it,” he mutters, the rough edge in his voice doing nothing to hide the concern underneath. his body heat surrounds you as he keeps you pressed close, his hand firm against your back.
you stiffen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden proximity, but his warmth is undeniable. your body relaxes against his, letting the heat from him seep into you.
there’s something comforting in the way he holds you, like he’s willing to bear all the cold, so you don’t have to.
you tilt your head up slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, which is softer than usual. his face is still serious, but you can see the care in his eyes, the way he’s watching you closely.
for a second, the two of you just stand there, his arms wrapped around you, your body pressed against his.
“and—uh you’re welcome,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him.
his gaze softens, just slightly, before he turns back and starts walking again, already heading toward the next stretch of their patrol.
a grin makes its way up your face, and it makes your husband blush furiously and press a firm kiss on the top of your head. he is trying to hide—you know that much.
kofi — navigation — masterlist
do not copy, translate, or plagarize
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha x y/n#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou x fem!reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugou x female reader#katsuki bakugou x you
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mws - jey uso.
parings: jey uso x black!reader
warnings: smut, cursing, arguing, use of n word, car sex, unprotected sex, my man, my girl, but not my man or my girl trope, praise kink, talking you through it lawd,
the message made you roll your eyes so hard you thought they might've got stuck.
“this man really called me a crybaby,” you muttered under your breath, already feeling your annoyance bubbling up.
from the day he set foot into your life, all he did was keep up with the dramatics. being extra and shit about any ole thing. this time? he was irritated about you still following your ex on instagram. fed up with the conversation, you blocked him. he could send novels to your messages by himself.
mind you, it was jey who decided not to be official yet. he was a busy man, and you respected that. being on the road damn near everyday out the year was taxing; trying to be in a relationship wouldn't work. but he couldn't let go of you.
you sighed so deep you swore your soul left your body for a hot minute. this man really had the audacity to pull up unannounced, acting like you were the problem. you peeped out the window and sure enough, there was his black range rover parked across the street, engine still running.
"lord give me strength," you mumbled, huffing and flopping on the couch. slipping on your hot pink ugg slides and grabbing your keys. just as you were about to close your eyes and pretend you ain't see shit, jey layed on his horn.
you weren't about to let the neighbors get a show, so you stepped outside, locking the door behind you. you knew how exaggerated jey could be; if he didn't get his way, no doubt he'd blow his horn all night to get your attention. and at this time of night? you'd be out by morning.
the passenger seat of jey's car flung open before you could hit the side walk. you quickly got in, slamming the door behind you, "how many times did your mama drop you as a fucking baby? are you crazy? blowing your horn and shit? what if someone called the po—"
"mane, ion give one fuck 'bout that shit. you got me fucked up." he seethed throwing his hands in the air.
you rolled your eyes again, matching his frustration,"I got you fucked up? Nah, you got me fucked up. you really pulled up to my place at 2am over what? some likes?"
jey's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, "so you fuckin' him again? thats whatchu' on now, mama? fuck outta here 'bout some likes and shit. how you think i feel? seein' another motherfucka all under yo pictures leaving heart eyes?"
your head snapped backwards in disbelief, "that's rich coming from you! how many bitches under your pictures, jey? where's my phone at? let me go count em'."
"i aint responding back with no fuckin' hearts and shit tho! thats the shit im talkin' bout!"
the tension in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife. jey's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but you could see the storm brewing behind them. you knew this man well enough to know his blood was boiling.
your jaw dropped, heat rising to your cheeks. "excuse me? y'know what? you wanna talk about crybaby shit? how about you mad as fuck right now going through my page to find something? you're throwing a whole ass tantrum over a follow!"
"and you blocked me right? but, you can't block that motherfucka tho? thats some bullshit and you know it!" jey spat, his jaw clenched. honestly? he didn't even know what he was more mad it. you blocking him, still following your ex, liking each other's post, or you coming out the house in those little ass shorts.
was he terrible for being upset at all 4?
it irked something inside of him. you weren't his girl...yet. but still, it's a respect issue. he knew he was yours, and unless you forgot, you knew you were his. there wasn't room for anybody else no matter what you thought.
"oh, so now you wanna act brand new? like you ain't been doing the same shit?" you snapped, pulling out your phone. "let's see…tiffany, amber, and how many other people—all up in your comments 'lord he could get it.' 'till the room stinks.' 'till the earth-fuckin'-quakes.' but I'm the problem?"
jey snatched the phone from your hand, tossing it in the backseat. "don't flip this stupid shit on me. so thats what this is? yo crybaby ass wanted to get back at me, so you followed his ass again? all up in his business for what? ian texting you back fast enough or sum?"
you were fuming, everything about him grating on your nerves. you were so over it, over him acting like you were the one causing problems when he was just as messy.
part of jey knew he was being petty, but it didn’t stop the heat rising in his veins. he hated seeing you follow your ex, hated the way you acted like he was the only one with a damn problem.
"i ain't competing with nobody, especially not for a man who can't even claim me. you think you deserve me why?"
"you want me to claim you? ight. c'mere." jey growled before crashing his lips into yours.
your protest was muffled against jey's lips as he kissed you fiercely, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other gripping the front. his tongue demanded entry. the kiss was everything the argument was. rough and fiery.
"get inna back," he growled, breaking the kiss to undo his belt buckle, "you ain't hear me? now."
you hesitated for a moment, torn between desire and indecisiveness. part of you wanted to get out the car and leave him here, but the smoldering look in his eyes made the decision for you. you scrambled over the center console, your shorts riding up as you climbed into the backseat.
jey followed, his muscular frame towering over you. "been turnt wit' my ass all fuckin' morning. yo crybaby ass. you wanted this shit too. and you better take it all, none of that runnin' shit."
his large hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide. he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them down along with your panties in one swift motion.
he tossed your shorts in the front, before shoving your panties into your mouth, "pretty ass. just wanted to get yo pussy ate didn't you, mama."
he slid down your body, kissing his way across your chest to your stomach until he rested between your thighs.
his large hands gripped your plush thighs, pulling you towards his mouth. he instantly sucked your throbbing bud into his mouth. you let out a muffled gasp before arching your back upwards.
"you taste so fuckin' good, mama. love tastin' her ass. wish you stop talkin' so damn much," he groaned out into the air.
his tongue worked magic, flicking and swirling around your most sensitive spots. you squirmed against the leather seats, muffled moans escaping around the fabric in your mouth.
the noises you made as his tongue swirled your swollen clit, locking your fingers into his thick hair, wanting to grind against his hot tongue but he was a step ahead—pinning you down with his arms.
jey alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, building you higher and higher. just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he slid two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside of you.
he doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped relentlessly. the dual sensation was overwhelming, and within moments you were trembling on the edge of release.
his wet muscle sliding into your awaiting hole, fucking you with it was enough to send you over. you came with a muffled scream, your body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.
your body thrashed around the seats to escape from his mouth, "let me goooo," you let out a muffle whine, barely even comprehensive.
you pushed at his arms around your waist. jey had an end goal; he wasn't going to let you leave that damn car till his point was proven. you were his.
his girl.
that instagram following shit? it was over tonight. and he was gonna make the clear anyway he could...or had to.
he licked your pussy clean as more juices erupted from your pussy, giving him something to drink on. you were going crazy. you couldn't thrashing away from him, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves. your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion. your juices continuously flowing down into his mouth like a waterfall.
but with his dick getting hard? watching you attempt to push him away with tears in your eyes? no-one was leaving this car anytime soon.
you came with a muffled scream, your body shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, "lil’ angry ass...get it all out, baby," he pressed his tongue flat against your pussy causing your body to shutter and gush into his mouth.
"c'mere. crybaby ass just needed some dick, so move it. lemme see how much you want it," he laid against the seat, pulling your arms to move you on-top of him.
his strong hands gripped your hips, positioning you over his thick length. you could feel the heat radiating off him, his dick twitching against your inner thigh. jey's eyes locked with yours, intense and hungry, "take whatchu' need from me, baby."
you reached between you, taking his girth into your small hand. you positioned him at your entrance and slowly eased down onto him. a small whimper left your throat as he pushed his dick into your warm heat in a swift movement.
"ride me, mama. show me how much you want this dick," he encouraged before locking his arms around your waist. the burn of his dick stretching your walls long gone by now.
no-one was stupid. had any of your neighbors looked out the window, they knew exactly what was going on. the car rocking up and down, from him slamming your hips onto him, and the fog clouding the windows. you could draw your name on it.
"faster, baby." he demanded, bucking his hips up to meet yours. tears pooled at your eyes even though you obliged, picking up the pace. the car filled with the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin on skin. jey's hands slid down to grip your ass, helping you bounce on him.
your thighs burned as you rode him harder, desperate for release. jey's fingers dug into the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movements. the car rocked with each thrust, the windows completely fogged over now. his dick kissing your cervix with each thrust. your wetness drenched his dick, making him slide in and out so easy.
your pussy started to twitch, as his dick massaged your walls, continuously bouncing in his lap, making his dick kiss your cervix, and making note to squeeze when you reached his tip.
suddenly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you in place. "my turn," he growled before locking his arms around your lower back stilling your movements.
tears began to stain your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. with your bodies pressed together, jey began to ride you from the bottom. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your pussy fluttered around him. a smirk plastered across his face, he felt your pussy clenching around him. he knew he had you right where he wanted you.
"so damn pretty on top of me. you mines, right?," he cooed, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. he reached up to pull your panties from your mouth. you through your head back, letting out a loud cry to the roof of the car, "you mines, ain't you? say it."
you could barely form words, lost in the sensation of him riding you from the bottom. "i-i'm yours," you managed to gasp out between thrusts.
the sight of jey's dick coated in a white sheer layer made his head spin, "say that shit louder, baby. let everyone know who fuckin' you right now."
"i'm yours!" you moaned out. a smirk plastered over his face before pulling you to him by the back of your neck into a searing kiss, "i'm yours, too."
he was losing himself under you, his strokes were becoming erratic. the sensation sending the coil in your belly overboard. you creamed all over his thickness, clamping down on him. the move triggering his own release.
he gripped your ass, his hips bucking upwards, emptying ropes and ropes of his cum deep inside of you—filling you to the brim with his seed. you both swallowed each other's moans. the moment was...new. you had an unanswered question in the air.
but either way? you both knew you only had eachother.
ᰔ:
@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @luvrsluxe @uceyliyahh @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @acknowledge-reigns @southerngirl41 @prettyfilmz @jaza23
don’t forget to like and reblog! leave me a comment also. i love reading those. xoxo, cleo🩷.
#jeyusomessages#jey uso smut#jey uso oneshot#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso x reader#jeyuso#jey uso fluff#jey uso x black reader#jey uso x black oc#jey uso imagine#jey uso imagines#jey uso#jey uso headcanon#jey uso headcanons#the bloodline x reader#the bloodline imagines#the bloodline extras#the bloodline smut#jey uso fic#jey uso x oc#jey uso x y/n#jey uso x you#wwe imagine#wwe oneshot#wwe smut
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A DM’s Fair Play Guide To Plot Twists
I love running a game with a lot of surprises. The challenge to pulling this off well is that, unless you’re playing a one on one game, your players outnumber you: and between them, they have a good chance of figuring out what’s going to happen, no matter how sneaky and clever you are.
The first way of dealing with this - which I’ll just call the bullshit way - is to not give your players the information they need to solve the mystery. Don’t let them find out about the secret society until it’s too late. Don’t give them any reason to suspect that their NPC ally is planning to kill them. Don’t let them find the murder weapon, don’t let them locate the witnesses, don’t give them the chance to skip to the end of their investigation.
This sucks, and if you run your games like this, you’re going to piss off your players. Because it isn’t fair.
In mystery literature, a “fair play mystery” is one where the reader is given all of the information they need in order to figure out the solution before the Big Reveal. It’s what makes the reveal good: that GASP, the “oh shit, the knife! the knife from the party! that was hers! I forgot!”
Pulling off a twist in a fair play game is an incredible feeling. Your players will think you’re a genius (or an absolute dick bastard, which is just as good) and they’ll respect it more when they land in hot water that they plausibly could have avoided. So how do you run a fair play game without your players figuring out the twists ahead of time, given that you’re definitely not smarter than all of your players put together?
By fucking with their expectations.
Here are some things that I keep in mind, to keep my players guessing. And it’s important, with all of this, that if your players see through something, let them have it. They should figure out a lot of things on their own! But if you’re regularly seeding your stories with all of this stuff, eventually your players will miss something. Those are somethings you can build on. The same way that a low level enemy who gets away once can keep coming back again and again until they become an important antagonist, a misapprehension your party proves to have a blindspot for can grow and develop until they get smacked with a breathtaking twist.
What’s a twist if not the sudden overturning of an assumption you never thought to question?
1: Make your powerful friendly NPCs know a lot...but not as much as the players think they do.
Player characters often end up with powerful allies. It would be very convenient for the party if those allies always had accurate information. Make sure they don’t always enjoy that convenience.
It’s a balancing act: you want your powerful NPCs to be powerful. You want this alliance to be meaningful and beneficial to your players. But give your NPC an Achilles heel of some kind, when it comes to the information at their disposal. The Noble General commands powerful forces and knows the lay of the enemy’s land well...but that doesn’t mean he knows what every squadron and scouting party is up to. The Political Mastermind may know the ins and outs of the court, and have keen insight into the motivations of others: but he has an enemy who pisses him off so much that he loses all objectivity around her. The Powerful Wizard can call upon great magic to aid the party: but his divinations aren’t as accurate as he thinks they are, and he’s prone to finding, in his signs and omens, what he wants to see, more than what’s actually there.
Most of the time, their information should be good! That will make it more likely that your players will trust them the one time when it isn’t.
2. Let (apparently) less powerful NPCs sometimes know more than the players think they do.
Most NPCs aren’t the Noble General or the Powerful Wizard. Most NPCs are Daves, designed to get the players from place to place. Most of those Daves know about as much as you’d expect them to. But some Daves have plans of their own.
You don’t always have to signpost with big blinking lights which of your NPCs are ‘important,’ and which ones are ‘unimportant.’ Sneak in a crafty Dave from time to time. That assistant they talk to, every time they go to see the prince? That bitch knows everything, and she’s almost ready to make her move.
3: There is no such thing as a completely reliable witness.
If the players only get information from one person, that information should be flawed in at least one, potentially small, but important way. Smart players will seek a second opinion, or at least allow for the possibility that their information may be incomplete. But even smart players get out over their skis sometimes.
4: Let your NPCs be aware of the power of a first impression.
If an NPC gives a strong first impression of being a particular kind of person, it’s because they’re comfortable giving that impression. That might be because it’s who they are. But maybe not.
One of the first characters the PCs met in a VtM campaign I ran was Gawaine. Gawaine was a good old pine-scented man’s man, with salt and pepper stubble and a blue Ford truck. He listened to AC/DC, and talked about the war. He was affable and honest and willing to lend a hand. You already know Gawaine. Everybody knows a Gawaine. Gawaines are trustworthy, salt of the earth types. You don’t necessarily think to question a Gawaine.
That’s exactly why Gawaine was such a useful persona for Krystiyan, the Tzimisce Voivode, a cruel and alien sculptor of flesh who “never left his haven.” There were plenty of clues that they were the same person, but that campaign was in its endgame before the players put them all together.
5: Sometimes, dangerous and villainous NPCs should be helpful and cooperative.
Not even necessarily because they’re manipulating the players, or even deceiving them about their true natures, but because their interests and the players��� interests genuinely align...for the moment.
One of the easiest levers in your players’ brains to exploit is the expectation that people who help you are your friends. Even if your players know, consciously, that they shouldn’t trust this person, most of the time they kind of can’t help it, if the NPC is genuinely helpful to them and at least a little charismatic.
6: Sometimes, good and valuable NPCs should be unhelpful and uncooperative.
No matter how mature your players are, there’s a natural tendency to react to uncooperative NPCs with a reflexive, “Hey, fuck you! We’re the protagonists! This guy is an asshole!” so from time to time have a helpful, honest, good-aligned NPC have a wholly justified but as-yet-unknown-to-the-party reason to flatly refuse to deal with them.
7: Every NPC should have a secret.
Not necessarily a bad secret. Were it to be revealed, it might even make the party like them more! But for their own reasons, the NPC does not want their secret to come out, and they will lie to the party to protect it. Players go crazy when they realize they’re being lied to, and often jump to some wild assumptions about your NPC’s motivations. I’ve had an NPC lie about the opening hours of a shop, and had the PCs assume that they were black market dealers for the villain when the dude just wanted to be able to close early so he could go smoke weed in the park.
8. As a DM, it’s polite to remind your players of the common knowledge their characters would possess...even when it doesn’t reflect the truth.
We all know it’s tedious when the DM calls for a roll when you’re just asking for common knowledge. I shouldn’t have to make a roll to know the dumb space word for plastic in a Star Wars game. I shouldn’t have to make a roll to know who the Holy Roman Emperor is in a game about medieval vampires. The DM should supply common knowledge for free, whenever it comes up.
That doesn’t mean common knowledge is true.
This is different from just lying to your players, because you don’t put the weight of DM word-of-God behind it. It’s not “You would know this guy is a Ventrue, based on XYZ.” It’s “it would be a common assumption that this guy is a Ventrue, based on XYZ.” He might not be a Ventrue. It might in fact be extremely important that he is not a Ventrue. But if it is commonly assumed that he’s a Ventrue, that is - word for word - something you can share with your players. If they don’t look any deeper than common knowledge, that’s on them.
9. Obviously untrustworthy NPCs provide great air coverage for less obviously untrustworthy NPCs.
The obviously untrustworthy NPC might or might not be planning to betray the party. But if you introduce two untrustworthy NPCs in the same storyline, and one of them seems normal and cool and has a genuine plot-related reason to be there, and the other one is Jaffar, Jaffar’s gonna get clocked, but Susan over there will probably slip under the radar, and might even get tapped to help out with the whole Jaffar situation. They might get Susan’s number, by the end of the session. Susan might become an ‘ally.’ Susan might even get romanced by a party member. Play your cards right, and Jaffar might just end up a footnote in the introduction of Susan, Scourge of Worlds and most hated NPC in the entire campaign.
10. Your villains should always have a secret plan B.
Your villain isn’t stupid, right? And your villain probably isn’t so arrogant that it is inconceivable to them that their plan might fail. They’ve been planning this ritual for ten thousand years, after all. It’s always possible that some plucky band of heroes could show up at the last minute and murder your high priest, or steal your amulet, or seduce your second in command. So what does your villain have in his back pocket to make the players go, “Oh, shit - he planned for this!”
This may mean that there is a whole separate plot happening, running alongside the main story. This is great, because when weird things happen, the players have to figure out whether this is part of Plot A or Plot B, and working out who did what and why gets a lot more interesting. If they end up foiling Plot A, great - your villain was also secretly behind Plot B the whole time, and will transfer all of his resources over to that.
Sometimes your players will figure out that Plots A and B were both the same plot the whole time, with the same villain at the head, and they’ll feel like the smartest people on the planet, and it will be their favorite moment of the entire game. That’s great! You gave them that!
Sometimes, they won’t. And when the villain of Plot A, apparently defeated, starts laughing and reveals that he was also the mastermind behind Plot B, which is now too late to be stopped, that will probably be your favorite moment of the entire game.
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Can I please have cold stuffed cherry tomatoes, sausage rolls, tomato soup and kebab with boba, rose and mocha coffee served by Lando Norris? And a little dessert too 💕 my favorite track is Zandvoort
stuffed cherry tomatoes sugar daddy cold appetizer rough sex sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" tomato soup "Running away from my dick? I don't think so" kebab "Look at that, my cock is splitting you in half" boba anal rose spanking mocha coffee degradation dessert aftercare + matcha toys
Lando Norris x sugar baby!girlfriend!reader
TW: unprotected sex, cumming inside, PiA, anal, fingering, toys , size kink
WC: 2.1k
A/N: sugar daddy lando implied but not specified. also anal is like my biggest opp so I hope this doesn't suck
I stared at the track ahead of me from the comfortable space of McLaren’s hospitality. Everyone was quiet from the moment the last lap started, waiting for the result. I twisted the Cartier love bracelet Lando bought me a few weeks ago, insisting I needed to match with him, as I watched the race.
But my thoughts were somewhere else. All I could think about while watching Lando approaching the finish, heading for a win, was a conversation the two of us had last week at Lando’s (mine as well, I suppose) Monaco apartment.
✿ ✿ ✿
“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Lando said, breaking the comfortable silence we had fallen into right after sex, both of us too tired to move.
“Oh, have you?” I asked, sucking in a sharp breath when I felt his fingers run through my folds, collecting some of his cum that spilled from me. “Lando,” I said, my voice breathless as his fingers slipped and moved down to my ass, rubbing around my other hole.
He hummed, his fingers, lubed with his own cum still tracing circles around my anal opening. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you here.” He said, his voice deep and dripping with desire. “Taking you fully. Your ass is the only part of you I haven’t fucked yet, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“I don’t know,” I said, trying my best to keep myself composed. “I’ve never done that before.”
He growled, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “That makes it all the sweeter, baby. That I could be the first to have you like that.”
I looked at him, we were laying on our sides, facing each other. His eyes were dark, intensely focused on me. I was quiet for a moment, thinking about his proposition.
Lando waited, patiently. But his hand never moved away.
Finally, I swallowed, opening my mouth to speak. “I’ll make you deal,” I said, my voice cracking. “You win the race next week, and I’ll let you fuck my ass.”
Lando smirked, moving his fingers away from my hole, and grabbing my ass. ��Deal,” he said, the tone of his voice letting me know he was already planning the whole thing out in his head.
✿ ✿ ✿
The whole garage erupted in cheers when Lando crossed the finish line. Everyone was up on their feet and screaming in happiness as the signs displayed Lando as the winner. Bringing him another 25 points and further confirming McLaren’s position in the constructors championship.
I was still lost inside of my own head as I made my way outside just in time to see Lando getting out of his car. He took off his helmet and balaclava, shaking his head to move his hair that was stuck to his forehead.
He turned towards the crowd and his eyes met mine. A smile stretched over his lips as he ran up to me and hugged me over the fence. His hands wrapped around me possessively, his lips brushing my ear. “I hope you’re ready for tonight,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Because I’m excited for my reward.”
He pulled away, lips drawn in a smirk and eyes gleaming. Lando leaned down, giving me a hard kiss before moving along to shake hands with the rest of his team and then going to do interviews.
✿ ✿ ✿
Lando was impatient. I knew that from the moment he found me after the interview and dragged me back to the car, throwing some bullshit line about how he was too tired to go clubbing and would rather have a nice evening in, to his friends.
His hand stayed on my thigh the whole time he was driving us back to the hotel, making me squirm in my seat, and once we made it to the elevator his lips were on me as soon as the door closed.
“Lan,” I said, trying to catch my breath as the elevator finally came to our floor. “Come on, this is our floor.”
Lando dragged me out the moment that the elevator doors opened, his grip tight around my wrist. He swiped the card and pushed me inside of the door, slamming the door shut.
“Fuck, you don’t know how long I wainted for this.” He said, pressing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss as he groped my breasts. “Been hard ever since I got out of the fucking car.”
His fingers moved to unzip my dress, fingers fumbling with the zipper before he roughly tugged at it and the sound of material ripping filled the room.
“Lando!” I said, as he pushed what was no longer a wearable dress down my body and onto the floor. “The dress -”
He cut me off by roughly spanking my ass, the sound of it echoing through the room. “I bought it, I can rip it.” He growled, his hands squeezing my ass. He pushed my panties off, his fingers dipping between my ass cheeks and then he froze and I knew he felt it.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes meeting mine, the expression on his face unreadable. “What’s this baby?” He asked, his fingers brushing the edge of the butt plug I was wearing.
I giggled, placing my hands on his chest, my fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s say,” I started, pushing his shirt off his body and running my hands over his naked chest. “I was confident you were going to win today.”
Lando groaned, leaning towards me enough for his lips to brush mine but not actually kissing me. “I’m going to destroy you,” he said, his voice rough and leaving no room for argument.
Before I could even begin to think of my reply Lando pushed me towards the bed. He pulled off his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, before sitting down on the bed. I looked at him, confused but the confusion was quickly gone when he pulled me over his lap.
“Lan, what are you doing?” I asked, not entirely used to this position. Sure, he had spanked me over his knee before but I was totally unprepared this time. He brought one of his hands down roughly, smacking one of my ass cheeks, making me yelp.
“That’s for making me wait.” He said, then hit my other cheek with enough force to make me jolt slightly forward. “And that’s for being a naughty girl and wearing a butt plug under your dress this whole time without telling me.”
He spread my ass cheeks and for a second he was silent before he spat between them, causing me to gasp at the feeling. “Look at you,” he said, his fingers running along my ass, collecting some of his spit. “Such a dirty little whore - and all for me.”
His fingers wrapped around the top of the plug, before he pulled it out of me, making me whine at the loss of fullness. I heard squirting of liquid and barely managed to turn around enough to see Lando putting lube on his fingers.
With no warning he pushed two of his fingers inside of my ass, replacing the plug. He started thrusting them into me slowly, dragging out each movement. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and take my cock?” He asked, slightly speeding up the movement of his fingers.
I nodded, my hair falling over my eyes and blocking my vision. “Yes!” I whined, feeling my clit rub against his leg when he flexed his thigh, making me even more desperate. “Please Lando, need your cock! Need you to fuck my ass.”
That seemed to be enough for him. Wasting no time, Lando pulled me up and manhandled me onto the beg, pushing me onto my hands and knees. He stood behind me, gently rubbing one of his hands along my back while he squirted lube onto his dick with the other.
Once he lubed himself up, he moved the hand on my back so it was holding my waist, and then started slowly pushing himself inside of me.
The head of his cock slipped in and I found myself moaning out into the pillow below me. “Hurts!” I whined, because while I had stretched my ass a bit to prepare for this particular thing I had forgotten exactly how big Lando was.
“Do you want to stop?” He asked, the dominant facade cracking. I knew that if I wanted to stop he would, no questions asked, but that wasn’t what I wanted.
I shook my head, “No, don’t stop.”
He chuckled, slightly gripping my waist. “Then what’s the problem, baby?”
“Too big!”
“Too big?” He laughed, his tone mocking. “Oh, don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll make it fit.”
He waited a moment before pushing himself inside an inch more. I moaned at the feeling of him stretching my ass but the moan was quickly replaced by a scream as he roughly thrust the rest of his length into me.
Lando’s hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head up from the pillow I had buried it into. “See, I told you it would fit. I’ll always fit in you, you’re my whore afterall. Made to take my dick perfectly.”
He started out with an experimental thrust and when I moaned he began slowly speeding up. “Fuck, look at that,” Lando groaned. “My cock is splitting you in half.”
His thrusts became rougher and faster, his slapping against mine with each thrusts, his balls hitting against my clit. The stimulation was increasing and I hadn’t even realized I was trying to push myself towards the headboard until Lando’s arm wrapped around my stomach and he pulled me backwards, impaling me on his dick.
“Running away from my dick baby?” He questioned, his voice holding a mocking edge. “I don’t think so.”
I felt like my body was burning from all the stimulation I was experiencing and when Lando’s hand sneaked around my body and his finger started rubbing my clit my arms turned into jelly. No longer having the strength to support my upper body, I let myself fall deeper into the mattress, my face buried in the pillow.
“Lando, so good!” I whined, the sound of my voice muffled by the pillow. “Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”
Lando’s fingers started rubbing circled on my clit faster, his hips speeding up as well, his thrusts becoming feral and desperate as he brought me closer to my orgasm while also chasing his own.
I knew Lando was close when I felt him twist inside of me. One of his hands grasped my hair, lifting my head up. “Cum for me, baby!” He said with a slight growl.
That was all it took to tip me over the edge and I was cumming, tightening around nothing as Lando filled my ass up with his cum.
“Fuck baby, that was so hot!” Lando said, pulling his softening dick out of me with a wet pop once he slipped all the way outside. “Think we can do it again sometimes?”
“Yeah,” I said, finally allowing my body to collapse onto the bed. “We should definitely do it again sometimes.”
I heard shuffling and felt Lando getting off the bed. He slipped inside the bathroom, leaving the door open and then I heard the sound of water running.
He came back, offering me his hands and I grabbed them, allowing him to pull me up into a sitting position, slightly wincing at the ghost of pain. “I don’t think I can quiet walk yet, Lan.”
“That’s okay, baby.” He offered me a gentle smile before picking me up. Lando carried me to the bathroom and then gently put me down into the bathtub.
I moved a bit forward, making space for him to get in behind me which he did, and then leaned back, pressing my back against his chest. I hummed at the warm water, running my hands through the bubbles.
“You even made bubbles,” I said, my voice hoarse from how loud I had been.
Lando laughed, his hands gently caressing my skin as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto my cheek. “Of course I did. How could I forget how important the bubbles are for my girl? I love you, baby.”
I smiled, melting back into him, “I love you too, Lan.”
#f1 fic#dia's diner#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x you#lando norris fic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris smut#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 mcl#ln4 smut#lando smut
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picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”
And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.
And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.
Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”
Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…
Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.
He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.
For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.
Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”
So he just keeps hugging back.
Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.
“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.
Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”
Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.
Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”
“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”
Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.
Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”
Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.
“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.
It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”
For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.
Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”
And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.
Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.
And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.
He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.
Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.
“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.
Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.
“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.
And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.
#i just love writing perceptive Dustin#think it’s partly the thought that “you’re my brother and I love all of you”#steddie with dustin’s pov#dustin henderson fic#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin#steddie#pre steddie#steddie ficlet#implied steddie#steve x eddie#dustin henderson ficlet#dustin henderson#steve harrington#eddie munson#henderfam
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“ block boy ” || tokyo rev.
parings: bonten x fem!reader [ mikey, kaku, sanzu, rin, ran ]
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. cursing, mentions of violence, blood, pregnancy mentioned in ran’s, a lot of down bad behavior on both ends lol and i think that’s it.
notes: i pledge allegiance to doechii, and the absolute banger of a song that is “what it is”. literally the first thing i thought of was bonten and couldn’t get ‘em out of my head unless i wrote something down sooo here ya go lol
notes ii: basically times where you pulled their weight when they least expected you to/when they’re not around. called the shots, took some shots, beat someone up, defended them, loving on them, stuff like this (•3•>)
tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen
“Did the severity of the situation finally click in your thick skulls, or do I have to waste more of my breath spelling it out for you?”
When MIKEY returned from his much needed evening snooze in the break room you threatened sweetly advised him to take after working for 17 hours straight, he was expecting to return to the shitstorm he left behind. However, when he entered his office, to his muted surprise there you were, in the middle of berating a handful of subordinates nearly twice your size, all shrunk within themselves as your sharp tone pierced through them all. He stood in the doorway with a curious gaze, head tilted ever so slightly as he made sure to keep quiet so not to notify you of his presence.
Mikey took note of your hip popped outward, balled fist rested upon it in the stance he knew all too well whenever you were on your last nerve. Knowing what those idiots did, someone was bound to stumble outta there in tears; your fury wasn’t for the weak.
You eyed the group with raised brows, expectant. “Well?”
One member was brave, or stupid enough to actually answer. He hesitated, but cleared his throat and replied, “I-It was an honest mistake…we thought the product was secured in the truck already when we made the exchange, b-but-”
“B-B—Bullshit. You were given specific instructions to check the inventory to make sure those smarmy assholes weren’t trying pull a fast one, and you were too careless to do a full sweep. You failed abortions not only made Bonten look like complete amateurs, but you added more nonsense for my man to deal with all because you didn’t check the back of the goddamn trucks!”
You flung the clipboard you were holding at the guy’s head, making them all duck around to avoid getting hit, only one unlucky sucker wasn’t as quick as the wooden projectile got him right in the nose. He yelped, no doubt it was broken with the sheer amount of force you put in the throw. Mikey barely flinched, but he did blink a few times in astonishment.
“You’re gonna hunt those fuckers down like dogs and make right of your ‘mistake’ by the end of today, or I’m gonna have Sanzu chop you into pieces and throw you in the Shinano River-!” Mikey cleared his throat.
You swiftly looked over your shoulder at the noise, mood doing a complete 180 when you locked eyes with the object of your affection, skittering over to wrap him in your arms. “Oh! Jiro, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“‘s okay..” he leaned into your warmth, eyes hooded as he graced you with a faint, sleepy grin. “Didn’t want to interrupt your.. meeting. Seemed serious.”
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Just doing a little ‘housekeeping’ until you got enough rest, that’s all.”
He slowly nodded, lips pursed. “Could’ve sworn I pay good money for people to do that for me.”
“You do, but I was already here. Figured it was more productive to handle it myself rather than waste time looking for someone available. Besides, had to make sure you didn’t try to sneak your narrow butt back in here to continue working—We both know I’m the only one around here who can keep you in check.”
He couldn’t argue with that.
“Mm.. can’t say you don’t fill the role of boss rather nicely. It suits you. Should have you do it more often.”
Though you were sure he was teasing you, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow warm at his praise. You lightly hit his arm, bashful. How this was the same woman who struck fear in a room full of criminals was beyond comprehension, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Speaking of which.. Mikey couldn’t help but notice the said group of subordinates silently begging for him to reconsider in his peripheral, hands clasped in prayer while the one with the busted nose bowed deeply to the floor, forehead to hardwood. It was as if the idea of you being in charge any longer brought them great despair. How interesting.
Huffing through his nose, Mikey placed a loving kiss on your forehead whilst eyeing the group behind majority of his stress for the day, void of any remorse as he coldly spoke.
“Matter of fact.. think ‘m still feeling a little tired, angel. How about you handle another hour f’me? Or two?”
The silence was deafening as the dual-color eyed man avoided looking at you while you stitched him up without a word. When you were greeted by a bleeding KAKUCHO at your doorstep a little past midnight, pale in the face and could barely stand, there were no questions asked as you quickly escorted him into your home, setting him gently on the couch before you sprung for your first aid in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he could say in that moment, feeling like a complete moron for even showing up looking like he fled a crime scene which he kinda did but that’s besides the point. Your relationship was still in the budding phase, just starting to get a feel of one another as you tested the waters.
Well, consider the waters tested.
“You’re not really an undercover cop, are you?”
Kakucho gulped. He slowly shook his head, eyes trained on his lap while yours felt like they were burning holes right through him. You nodded as you continued carefully stitching him up. It wasn’t the best, but it would hold him over until he got proper medical attention. At first, he figured that would be all you said to him. But, when you completed dressing the wound, you asked a follow up question. “It’s something illegal, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t bring himself to answer, his strained grip on his pant leg enough response. Kakucho half expected you to berate him, curse him for potentially endangering your life, for lying.
“.. forgive me..” he croaked, bowing his head.
He felt sick to his stomach, he couldn’t bear the thought of you despising him, but he’d honor your wishes without protest if you never wanted to see him again…
However, what he didn’t expect was for you cup the sides of his face and bring his wavering gaze to your soft one. You smiled endearingly at the bewilderment that overcame his ashamed expression, him blinking at you widely with tears hanging onto his lashes like a wounded puppy. Your thumb ghosted over the tiny droplets, careful not to aggravate the bruise forming around the socket.
Leaning forward to shower him with tender kisses, Kakucho was at a crossroad—One side wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of goo, but the other refused to believe that he wasn’t hallucinating, waiting for the sick twisted punchline of this dream come true. Feeling him still so tense in your hold, you leaned back with your smile still present.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you, Hitto.”
Kakucho blinked. Then, he meekly replied. “W-what?”
You coyly tilted your head, “To be honest, I always figured there was something…off about you. Like, you were holding something back. My first guess was that you were seeing other women-”
“Never.” His eyes switched from uncertain to stern in a matter of seconds, as if the implication alone repulsed him. He softened once you giggled at his declaration, patting his leg in reassurance.
“I know. You’re much too sweet to be a player. I pondered over it for a while, thought back to how we usually met up late at night, or you would have to leave at odd times. My second guess was your work just kept you really busy.. and after tonight.. after all of this,” you gestured at the blood stains everywhere, “safe to say I was on the right track.”
Kakucho hesitated. “And that doesn’t…put you off?”
“That you’re a thug?” He winced, but nodded. The silence that followed behind was borderline suffocating, leaving his hands sweaty and nerves shot as he anticipated your response with baited breath. But, he didn’t need to worry.
With a loving coo, you placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over the split in his lip causing him to flinch slightly at the sting, but he welcomed the affection all the same. However, when your warm tongue peeked out to soothe the cut in slow, teasing swipes, homie nearly choked.
Kaku’s jaw fluttered open as a soft gasp escaped him next, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant as he felt his entire face heat up like a furnace. Your sudden proximity forced him back on the couch while you slid down to the floor betwixt his spread legs, making his head spin; this wasn’t going like how he thought it would at all. Being careful of his stitches, your arms rested on either side of him as your tongue explored his mouth, making him groan softly at the feeling of the wet muscle tangling around his so earnestly, hand reaching up instinctively to caress the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. His other hand held your waist, gripping your shirt as if he couldn’t believe you were there—That you wanted to stay.
The ravenette’s breath hitched when he felt one of your hands trailing up his thigh, slowly but surely making your way to his stiffening cock confined in his pants. Slightly startled, Kakucho pulled back from the heated kiss, a string of saliva still keeping you connected as you panted in each other’s mouths. Before he could question what you were up to, he cuts himself off with a whimper when you palmed his thick shaft while maintaining intense eye contact, a smile on your face as you sent the gangster into paradise when you sweetly whispered:
“Always wanted to be a ride or die.”
It was as if someone pushed him into an alternate dimension.
Not even moments ago, you were showing SANZU a cute tiktok of a kitten wrapped up like a burrito and mewing dramatically, nearly tearing up at the sight as you tugged on his arm and pleaded for him to buy you one just like it. Having bought out the entire evening in one of Tokyo’s most exclusive five star restaurants for your anniversary, Sanzu figured it’d be nothing more than a simple night with his lovely wife. Man’s must’ve forgot who he was.
When those fools tried an ambush on him, Sanzu was more than happy dealing with them quickly by just airing them out until his gun was empty. Although, as he went reaching for it, imagine his shock when you held his wrist to stop him. You had a different sentiment.
It was like a scene out of one of his most crazed fantasies. His lovely wife, holding his beloved katana to an enemy’s throat, covered in the blood of his comrades as he sobbed pathetically for you to spare him. As if Beatrix Kiddo entered the chat, you sliced into them with a swiftness, shredding through them all like paper; a dinner and a show. He wasn’t sure when you learned how to wield the weapon with such grace and precision, but he couldn’t care less when his pants were this fucking tight. But he couldn’t let you have all the fun, watching your six any time a goon tried to get the jump on you while your back was turned, Sanzu was quick to bust a cap right between their eyes. After spilling gallons of blood from the opposition, leaving one still standing, you decided to play with him a little bit.
“P-Please! I-if you let me go, you’ll never see my face again, I-I swear! I was just..just following orders, I-”
“Oh, c’mon, where’s your conviction from earlier, huh? You were so confident before I minced all your friends. What was it you said you’d do to me once you killed my husband? Can’t seem to put my finger on it…Haru, darling, do you recall?”
Sanzu, with his chin placed atop his interlocked fingers like a smitten fool, smoothly answered, “Said he’d ‘Fuck you raw on top of my corpse’.”
You winked. “Bingo. Thank you, handsome.”
“Welcome, gorgeous.”
The sniveling man yipped when the blade nicked his skin, a thin stream of blood flowing in its wake as you pressed it closer to his throat. His heart rate paced like a rabbit caught in a trap, nostrils flaring as he breathed sporadically while his life laid in the palm of your hand.
“Guess that didn’t go according to plan, aw.” You sardonically cooed, spurring on a bit of rage as he gritted out a dry ‘Fuck you’ in his final efforts of showing dominance. “Oo, there’s that passion we were missing!~ Let’s see how much more I can carve outta yo-”
Hearing the sound of faint sirens in the distance, Sanzu clicked his tongue in annoyance. With a grumble the pinkette popped a piece of his steak in his mouth and spoke between chews as he cocked his gun, “Alright, [_____], playtime’s over. We gotta haul ass.”
You pouted. “But, we didn’t get to fuck on top of his corpse...”
Sanzu swallowed, hard. He couldn’t help but internally groan with desire at your innocent display of vulgarity, tempted to take you up on that offer, but the last thing he wanted was for you to be involved in a standoff with the cops. You’ve proven you can handle yourself very well, a lot more than he realized that’s for sure, but you were still his precious baby at the end of the day.
Better to keep you out of danger than thrust you in more of it, no matter how much the thought excited him.
“Next time, pretty baby.”
You huffed. “Fine.”
Without hesitation, you strummed the man’s throat like a cello, the katana tearing through the skin with ease. The symphony of gurgles that escaped him sent shivers down Sanzu’s spine as he watched in manic glee as the man choked on his own blood. You never looked more stunning covered in red and holding his blade like it belonged in your hand, he wanted nothing more than to ravish you on the spot, but as the sirens drew near he tamed his urges just this once. You took his extended hand gratefully, swaying them as you both rushed for the restaurant’s back exit.
Once outside, while he scoped out the area for any cops patrolling, you nudged him. When he turned to see you beaming at him whilst blood stained your face, he swore his heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“You’re getting me a kitten to make up for this, right, Haru?”
He raised a brow, but exhaled a chuckle. “Sweetheart. Show off that violent side of yours more often, and you can have as many as you want.”
“You good, ma?” A delightful shiver ran down your spine and straight to your pussy.
That was always the visceral response your body had whenever RINDOU spoke, especially low and intimately in your ear. From either gently waking you first thing in the morning, or to secretly shit-talk in crowed areas, it was his go-to method to getting your attention effortlessly. A dangerous method, one that was about to make you act up in front of all these important clients, decorum be damned.
“I am now,” you purred, falling back into his embrace as strong arms came vining around your waist. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he gently swayed you both to the rhythm of the soft jazz playing over the speakers of the ballroom.
“Missed me that bad, huh.” You nodded with a slight pout, turning in his hold to stare up longingly into his eyes. They were lidded, heady. Another dangerous method of your husband’s that made you weak in the knees—his undivided attention. “Bored?”
“So fucking bored,” you whined, tugging on his lapels. “These things are always such a drab..”
Rindou hummed, hands slowly slipping down from your waist to hold your hips. You tensed slightly, not even bothering to mask the second shiver it caused. His grin turned sharp in response, head tilting. “Ya sure that’s what has you so out of it?”
You tilted yours, confused. He continued, “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. You’ve been eye-fucking me for the past ten minutes. Came over to make sure you weren’t dripping all over the damn floor—”
“Shut up,” you jabbed him in the side, face boiling. Rindou barely flinched, squeezing your hips as he snickered cheekily at your embarrassment. “You’re so irking...”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. If you knew I was horny, I could’ve been folded on my back ten minutes ago.”
“Hm, almost as if I was doing something important, like…” he trailed off, making you squint and almost jab him again until he grabbed your hand in the last second, bringing it to his chest with a smug grin, “working.”
You huffed, “I’m important too…do me.”
Rindou snorted, but brought your hand up to gently kiss the inside of your wrist with a tender look in his eyes. “‘course you are, baby. Didn’t know it would go for this long, ‘m sorry.”
“Then, how ‘bout you and I take a little…smoke break,” you suggested, hopeful; desperate. However, it’s futile when your husband clicks his tongue.
“No can do. Kakucho’s still not over the last time we took a ‘smoke break’ together.”
“He’s not? Seriously? We weren’t even gone for that long!”
He raised a brow. “[______]. The check made it back to the table before we did.”
You groaned, exasperated as you wiggled around in his hold. Rindou merely watched in mirth, not even phased as he let you finish your tiny tantrum. He teasingly cooed, “I know, I know. Poor thing can’t go a day without something plugging up her slutty little hole.”
“Shut up..!” You shrunk into his chest to hide away from the sultry words spoken directly in your ear, thighs clenching together as his deep chuckle came soon after.
Rindou was very much aware of your voice kink. It filled his ego to the brim with how needy you were, crumbling anytime he so much as spoke to you in a certain way. There’s nothing he wanted more than to ditch and bury himself in your thighs, giving it to you however you wished, for as long as you wished, whispering praises to you with a sprinkle of degradation in there to keep you craving for more of his soothing voice. But, unless he wanted his nuts handed to him on a silver platter by his stickler of a superior, you were just gonna have to wait.
And he knew how much you hated doing that.
“Ten minutes.”
He sighed. “[_____]…”
“Five minutes?”
“We can’t-“
“A minute, god, I don’t even have to finish, Rin, please.” You whined in his ear, forcing him to close his eyes as a means to strengthen his resolve. It didn’t do much help when your arms wrapped around his neck to gently rake your manicured nails against the nape, your thigh deliberately rubbing up against the growing erection confined in his dress pants. The tables had turned with a shiver now running down his spine, mind turning to mush as common sense slowly sunk into his dick. Maybe…sparing just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
Even though the lavender-haired gangster couldn’t see your face, he was certain you were grinning victoriously at the sound of his resolve breaking instantly, the slow exhale through his nose being all the confirmation necessary. Clearly, you weren’t the only one who was needy.
Swallowing down a groan, he hissed through clenched teeth, “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”
Giggling, you were already leading him toward the nearest exit, swiftly evading the eyes of his coworkers, satisfied that you were getting exactly what you wanted in the end.
“Better me than Kaku.”
“Like I’ve already explained to you, Officer. My husband’s been here all day. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he can’t exactly afford to leave my side for more than ten minuets let alone an entire evening.”
Despite gesturing to your swollen stomach and the small child shyly peering from behind your leg, the cop still fixed you with a skeptical look. You did your best to remain unnerved, providing comfort for not only your son but yourself as you ran your fingers through his hair. Apparently, there had been a shootout that happened in the streets of Tokyo, and apparently a witness was able to describe one of the shooters…
Henceforth, the unexpected visit from law enforcement. Again.
“Mhm. And, may I ask, where exactly your husband is now? Surely if he’s been tending to his pregnant wife, he wouldn’t have her answering the front door.” He raised an eyebrow, wry grin stretched across his face.
You worked your jaw, annoyed. “In the shower.”
“How convenient. Washing off the blood, I assume?”
“You can assume whatever you want, it doesn’t change my answer. He’s been here, with us. Whoever said they saw him was mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mouths to feed. Have an evening, Officer.”
“Now, hold on—”
Without an ounce of hesitation, or care, you slammed the door in his smug little face. And just like that…blissful silence. A grand weight lifted off your shoulders at the disgruntled sound of the pig’s flat-footed steps exiting out of your day. Releasing a slow exhale, your son took it upon himself to blow a raspberry at the closed door, having worked up the courage to mock the officer now that he was out of sight.
You grinned as you ruffled his hair, endearingly. “You tell ‘em, baby.”
However, that silence didn’t last long as RAN made himself known now that the coast was clear. Having hid around the corner in case things escalated, he too released an exhale, easy grin spreading across his face. Though your child was happy to see him, racing to cling onto his long legs, you merely glared in disapproval. Based off his appearance alone, disheveled and glistening with sweat, you wished your fib from earlier was true; he needed a shower.
“[S/n], don’t touch daddy right now…he stinks.”
Though a bit childish in your phrasing, Ran was well aware it held an underlying meaning, a chill running down his spine under your harsh scrutiny. He cleared his throat, somewhat nervous, as he searched his brain for honeyed words that would soothe your soreness toward him. And he laid it on thick.
“That’s ‘cause Daddy had to run the rest of the way home to make sure his babies were safe,” he leaned down to scoop up the clinging child, lightly tickling at his stomach poking out from under his pajama shirt to receive more joyous squeals. “But, Mommy scared away the big, mean police man all on her own, didn’t she?”
“Yea!” [S/n] squeaked, bright laugh bouncing off the walls as he wiggled around eagerly. You felt the corner of your lip twitch upward at the sight, but you pursed your lips to hide the impending smile—Ran noticed. He always did.
“Yeah.. we’re real lucky to have someone as wonderful as her to watch our backs whenever we’re in trouble.. right, mama?”
Your glare still remained, though not as harsh compared to moments ago. Despite the mirth swirling in his lavender gaze, you took note of something else hiding within. Something more raw, more vulnerable.
Remorse.
Ran didn’t like getting you caught up in his business. He did everything he could to ensure that none of you were ever exposed to the ugly parts of his life. Tonight, he was sloppy. He fucked up, and he knew that. The second shit hit the fan, his only priority was his family… You had every right to be livid with him, having both your son and a pregnancy to deal with virtually on your own, while also covering his ass from prying cops itching to nail him to the wall…It’s a miracle how you haven’t packed up and left him yet…
And he thanks his lucky stars that you haven’t.
With another deep exhale, you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know what it is that you do in those streets to cause such an upset, Ran-”
“For the record, tonight wasn’t exactly my fault-”
“-and I don’t care. I just…”
Your exhausted tone was more than enough to shut him up. He felt his throat tighten as he gently bounced your son on his hip to distract his increasing anxiety. The lavender-haired man mentally prepared for your scolding, already set on sleeping in the dog house if that’s what got him in your good graces again…but it doesn’t come. Eyes that were hyper focused on [S/n] fiddling with his loosened tie slowly trailed up at the sound of you huffing in, what he assumed to be, relief.
Waddling over to your boys, you reached up to caress their faces. Instinctively, they nuzzled into your palms, Ran a little more hesitant than your beaming son before reaching out with his free hand to touch your stomach. When your unborn child kicked against it in response, you noticed his shoulders visibly relax. Your thumb gently rubbed under his eye, frowning at the dark circles that formed on the pale skin. He looked solemnly into your eyes, turning his head slightly to kiss the inside of your palm. You sighed once more, eventually granting him a smile in reassurance.
Despite his abnormal lifestyle, and how hectic it could get, “I’m just glad you’re home.”
© 2024-2025 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞~✩#tokyo rev#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev x reader#tokyorev smut#tr smut#tokyorev headcanons#tokyo revengers x reader#bonten x reader#bonten smut#manjiro#kakucho#sanzu#ran#rindou
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we do a bit of trolling
CG: OKAY DAVE, I KNOW WE CAME TO A TRUCE ON THE WHOLE FOOD WARS SHTICK, I'M NOT ABOUT TO HURL TWENTY MORE INSULTS AT YOUR EARTH CUISINE, BUT.
CG: BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.
TG: man
TG: ok look i was kinda preoccupied with the seven minute voice message i left you about the infinite jump glitch in sonic 06 and it turns out i cant measure water and talk at the same time
CG: DON'T SLOSH IT!!! THAT'S DISGUSTING!!! IT LOOKS LIKE BILE!
TG: yeah well its the last pack of mac n sheese and im gonna eat it whatever viscosity it decides to have
TG: i can make this work
TG: is cheese soup a thing
TG: nah theres no way in hell
TG: k so what is your cooking proficiency like what are we dealing with here
CG: OH, I DON'T KNOW. I WOULD SAY I CAN PROBABLY FOLLOW BASIC INSTRUCTIONS, POSSIBLY LIKE THE ONES THAT WERE ON THE BACK OF YOUR SALIVATION-INDUCING SLOPFEST YOU'VE GOT GOING ON HERE.
TG: alright cool i got a pitch
TG: might work might dont
CG: THAT ISN'T SO MUCH INSPIRING CONFIDENCE IN ME AS IT IS TAKING WHAT MORSELS OF FAITH I HAD IN YOU OUT BACK AND THRASHING THEM IN A DARK ALLEYWAY.
TG: alright so im basing my operations on like the core features of water im talking the ten commandments of h2o-logy
TG: as the component responsible for the shlop of my shlock presented before you
TG: it can evaporate right
CG: … YEAH?
TG: ok but cheese doesnt evaporate does it you cant get a cheese mist
CG: OH NO.
TG: cheese doesnt evaporate it just like melts
TG: or dries
TG: so my theory is if i jam this shit in an oven or maybe the microwave
CG: NEITHER OF THOSE WERE IN THE INSTRUCTIONS AND YOU KNOW IT
TG: but the problem is the pasta is already cooked and all up in there so if i microwave it the pastas gonna go soggy and i cant have that
CG: DAVE.
TG: so microwave is out of the picture im assuming oven heat will keep the pasta dry while also evaporatin the water without removing the cheese
TG: that checks out doesnt it
CG: CUT THE BULLSHIT. STOP EMBARRASSING YOURSELF.
CG: YOUR INSISTENCE ON UPSTAGING YOUR OWN STUPIDITY IN FRONT OF ME ISN'T CUTE OR ENDEARING. I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO PULL AND I'M NOT FA--
CG:
CG: WAIT… NO… WOULD-- WOULD THAT…?
TG: real brain wrinkler huh
CG: OH SUCK MY FAT FUCKING SHAME GLOBES
TG: dude you even pointed out the tripwire and you still went ahead and threw yourself over it what kind of troll are you
CG: I DIDN'T FALL FOR SHIT! OBVIOUSLY MY ATTEMPT TO HUMOR YOUR RAPIDLY DETERIORATING SENSE OF "INTELLIGENCE" WENT CLEAN OVER YOUR NUGBONE! YOU'VE PROVEN YOUR POINT, MY FAITH IN YOU IS COMPLETELY MISPLACED.
CG: WOOPS! SILLY ME FOR BELIEVING IN YOU! WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER?
TG: hahahaha oh man
#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#homestuck#inspired by the iasip binge i been on lately#comix#we do a bit of trolling
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Daft Pretty Boys
AN: I was going to try and get something Halloween-like out but it's been busy lately. Have some fluffy angst with Raph, instead :D
Raphael x Reader
Warning: kinda angsty, soft-hearted Raph ahead :)
When you blessed the turtles with your bright presence and inevitably befriended them, Raphael didn’t realise just how much of an emotional rollercoaster it would be. As a person, you are amazing. You always make a point to engage with him and his brothers, even for the small things. Other than April, they’ve never felt more welcomed by human company before. The thing is, if he were to put one fault on you, it’s your taste in men.
You fall fast and hard, and it’s not because of their looks. It’s the ones who have this idea that they know they look good: the confidence they exude, sharp-witted flattery on the end of a hook that you can’t help biting into. You get caught, pulled in, they have their fun, and then you’re chucked back into sea awaiting the next juicy-looking cast of bait. One would think you’d be smart enough to not fall for the same routine tricks over and over again but here we are.
Each time you say, “He’s really sweet,” followed by a “This one is different,” but he never is. You’re always taking that chance, betting on the next guy being Mr Right, only for it to end in heartbreak, and every time Raph’s at your aid when you come crying to him. That isn’t said with any malice for you. He will always be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe broken pieces of these stupid shmucks if he just had five minutes alone with them.
You grasp so desperately to hope. Raph would commend you for your optimistic persistence if it didn’t break him to see you in tears. There’s only so much one heart can take. He doesn’t want you to become some calloused husk of your sweet self, too afraid to take another chance. He doesn’t want you to end up like him. Raphael knows he’s unloveable. Regardless of his appearance, he has a temper - one that he keeps as far away from you as he possibly can. His feelings for you never seem to pass despite how much he tries but he isn’t meant for love. That isn’t how this world works. You, on the other hand, should be cherished and he’ll beat the next sorry sucker who does any less than that.
How? How can someone be so foolish to drop you like these men have? He doesn’t get it. Were it him, he’d spend every waking moment appreciating you, letting it be known just how precious you are and how lucky he is to be the one to call you his. But he isn’t. The same daydream can play as many times as it likes, it’s never going to go in that direction. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.
You just deserve so much more than the cards you keep getting dealt. You’ve probably got to be the sweetest person he’s ever had the luxury of meeting. A little bubble-brained at times but that’s in part what makes you so cute. It’s also why you end up in and out of these short-lived relationships, he reckons. Much like now, for instance. It’s almost routine, weirdly systematic in a way, how you waddle into the lair glassy-eyed and red-faced wearing that grey sweater - the one he calls your breakup sweater - that’s two sizes too big for you. So much for the macho man with the green eyes. Making it to one month is a record, so there’s that at least.
Raphael doesn’t say anything, just holds a hand out whilst the other cradles the back of his neck. By now, he’s learnt that there’s nothing he can say. It’s better to wait on you until you manage to find your words. You slowly trudge towards him and smack your forehead into his chest. All he can do is stand there and stare at the top of your head whilst he battles the urge to pick you up and take you away from all this frivolous bullshit. His arm falls to his side as he watches you, and you just about say what he would expect you to.
“I really thought this one would be different,” you whimper quietly and the hiccup in your throat makes his chest burn. “He seemed so genuine.”
Raphael’s heart clenches. He wants to scream that he’s the one who’s genuine, that he’s the one who’s been here through every heartbreak, every tear. But instead, he swallows his words, feeling the weight of his own unspoken feelings pressing down on his chest.
He pats the top of your head, almost awkwardly, and sighs, “I know.”
A pained laugh muffles against his chest. “I’m the problem, aren’t I?” you ask rhetorically, playing it off as some joke at your own expense but it only angers him further.
“It’s not you,” Raph replies, a hint of a growl edging into his tone. “They’re the ones who don’t know what they’re missin’.”
“But there’s a common denominator here. It feels like it’s me.” You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “Like, maybe if I was just different-”
“Stop right there,” he interjects, his brow furrowing. “You are not the problem. They are. Trust me on that.”
You always say the wrong things about yourself: the things he thinks about himself on a daily; if he was different. You are such an honest person and yet you lie so frequently when you talk about yourself. A nasty bi-product of those worthless scumbags treating you the way they do. You want to believe him on his word but you also can’t ignore the facts. It’s always the same song and dance. You stupidly cling to hope, searching for the silver lining that never seems to come, and end up in this sad mess of a person.
Raphael watches as you pull away, the warmth of his body replaced by the chill of reality. It’s painful to see you so vulnerable, so exposed. He wishes he could shake you out of this cycle, snap his fingers and make you see what’s right in front of you. But he can’t. All he can do is stand there, the silent sentinel, while you cry into the fabric of your sweater. The moment lingers, heavy and full of unsaid words. He wants to tell you that you deserve better, that you should never settle for the likes of those clowns who don’t recognize your worth. Yet, the words stick in his throat, tangled with his own fear of inadequacy.
He clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “Tell you what, let’s grab a couple sodas and a slice. Sit up top for a bit, yeah?”
You pull back slightly, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know if I can eat right now, Raph.”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to get outta this gloom. Plus, I’m starving,” he responds with a half-hearted attempt at humor, but the grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Finally, you yield. Begrudgingly, he might add, but food and the fresh night air is what you need right now, especially seeing as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment all day crying. He takes whatever pizza he had leftover - it’s only lasted because Mikey has luckily been out - along with a couple cans and leads you through the sewers. Whilst he’s essentially forcing you outside, he goes at your pace, never pushing you beyond that. Sure, it takes longer than it should but you get to a nice rooftop eventually, and before you know it, he’s already got you venting with a slice in your hand.
“And then he pulls out the classic ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ shtick,” you say and Raph follows with a quiet “Of course, he does,” before you continue, “and I swear, I could’ve just slapped him.”
“You should have.”
You hum shortly against a bite of pizza and shrug. “Ah, the moment’s long gone, anyway.”
The two of you glance at each other with a small laugh before returning to the view ahead. This feels better. Much better. Once again, your knight in shell-y armour has helped you bounce back from your foreboding. If you had it your way earlier, you would have loved nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch some bad reality TV to cheer you up. Not where Raph is concerned. He’s soft-natured when you need that shoulder to cry on but knows when to crack out a bit of that tough love, too. You’re always thankful for that - him - and you hope he knows just how much of a difference he makes.
"Hey.” He nudges you with his elbow and you look up, noting the light smirk on his face, though the seriousness behind his eyes isn’t something to be ignored. “Next asshole that breaks your heart, you just point me in the right direction.”
"And be an active participant in murder? Not a chance," you laugh and playfully swat him, earning a low chortle. You think you know what he’s getting at and it’s sweet in weird kind of way. With a perma-smile now glued to your face, you rest your head on his arm and speak more gently, "Thanks, though."
He glances down at you and tempts the idea of stroking a hand over your head. His fingers clasp into a fist and he looks ahead again, taking a gentle breath before responding quietly, "Yeah... don't mention it."
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt bayverse#tmnt x reader#raphael#raph#bayverse tmnt#bayverse raphael#bayverse raph#bayverse raph x reader#x reader#light angst#angsty#angst#fluffy#fluff#oneshot#short story#short for me anyway#fanfiction
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✰ 𝐏𝐎𝐌𝐏 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘
↳ summary: prompt: “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d have my head between your legs.” - Simon gets bored during a very special medal ceremony. Chest Candy isn't exactly what he's after when there's something much sweeter between your legs.
↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)
↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. This is so self indulgent it’s ridiculous. Anti-Monarchy (sue me), cheeky Simon (my favourite kind), vague dirty talk, oral (f receiving) you see PART OF Simon’s face, vague allusion to p in v sex and cream pie. Inspired by this article I found.
ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist
The Crimson red carpet stretches down the aisle to the medal platform, an uncomfortable reminder of the colour of the blood you had to spill to get here. A sea of uniformed SAS colleagues stands before you, making The King look distant from where he handed a medal to those worthy of the chest candy. The golden lighting is giving you a headache, and this ceremony feels as though it's taking forever. He's just a man-
"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs."
Simon's gruff voice so close to your ear has you jumping out of your skin, wide eyes gazing up at him through your lashes as you try to steady yourself from the shock. Was... Was he dirty talking you in the middle of the ceremonial halls of Buckingham Palace?
"Simon-"
"Never been one for pomp an' pageantry," he speaks over you, keeping his voice low as to avoid a very pointed look from Captain Price. Despite leaning down ever so slightly for his whispers to be heard, his eyes stare straight ahead, moving lips concealed by the worn fabric of his ski mask.
"This isn't pomp, Simon. It's Buckingham Palace," you remind him pointedly, a little hiss of frustration bubbling in your throat. Ghost had the habit of choosing the worst times to pull this bullshit-
"Exactly my point, love."
Admittedly, when you saw The Times article a few months ago, you threw up in your mouth. 'SAS get medals in secret palace ceremony'. While each of you had taken a vow to protect (what was then) Queen and Country, years on the field had twisted the priorities of each of the members of Team 141. You could ask any of them why they serve, and it certainly wasn't for this family.
What you honestly hadn't expected, however, was the team's invitation. The invitation, written on a thick, grained card with an embossed royal seal, detailed the team's bravery in the Gulf of Mexico, redirecting the missile aimed towards inhabited land. Ghost had scoffed at the idea of going to Buckingham Palace, but Price had been adamant that all of 141 would be there.
"You know, he's not even served a day in his life," Simon subtly nods towards the medals resting at The King's breast,"' Least Harry saw action."
Keeping your eyes aimed towards the ceremonial stage, you swallow back a grimace at Simon's truthful observation. Sure, he wasn't wrong, but it took everything in you not to dare Ghost to say it to the monarch's face.
Because you're sure as shit that he would.
"Whatd'ya say?" Simon whispers, his voice dropping a tad lower and dripping with eroticism, "There's an open door at your six, Delta. Make it worth your while."
Before you even check over your shoulder to see if his observation is accurate, you're turning on your heel, whispering to the king's guard patrolling the open double doors that you need the toilet- that you are desperate.
One of those admissions is true.
✰
"What took you so lo-ng?!" You gasp out as Ghost's tongue curls around your sensitive clit.
"Recon, love," he muses, the rumble of his voice against your throbbing cunt making you throw your head back against the wall of the bathroom stall, "Couldn't just follow after you into the women's loos, could I?"
Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimper, pushing your fingers into Simon's buzzcut hair and shoving his face deeper into your cunt. His words had shot straight to your clit when he entered the bathroom, eyelids heavy and voice as rough as glass on gravel.
"Eyes shut, panties down."
When his bare lips and nose pressed to your wet pussy lips, you could have cum right there, threats of a fierce orgasm roughly pushing up against the base of your spine. You wrap your thighs around his head now, wailing out his name as your eyes roll back.
"Shhh," he mumbles against your soaked cunt, but it's so hard to take note of his warnings when they're drowned out by even louder sloppy, messy sucks of your sensitive flesh. He's swallowing your juices down, groans ricocheting off the bathroom walls.
"Fuck, Princess," he's never used that name for you, and you know it's only because of the frankly ridiculous circumstances, but your cunt clenches around his tongue when he shoves it inside of you anyway, "Mhmm, so fuhgin' wet."
He's slurring his words as he plunges his tongue deeper, but he won't shut up. A chorus of "good girl" s and "like that" s and "c'mon" s have you pushing your hips up into his face and grasping at the smooth walls of the bathroom stall.
"Oh my God, Simon!" You sob weakly, tears welling in your eyes as he sinks his fingers into your throbbing cunt. He finds your G-spot instantly, far too acquainted with each curve and crevice of your body—too many reccy missions with his hands down your pants.
"Hah," he pulls back, breathless pants rumbling in his chest. The sound makes your back arch, chasing his lips again with your pelvis, "Gonna swear allegiance to me?"
His corny joke is almost lost on you; eyes rolling back into your skull as you grip at his short hair between your curled fingers. "L-Last I checked, yo-you were on your knees for m-me!"
It doesn't matter that you squeak out the last word of your ballsy sentence; it lands exactly as you intended it to. Simon stalls for a moment.
You don't mean to. You don't! But your eyes snap open at the sudden stalling of the blissful sensation. Simon's amber eyes gaze up at you from his position between your thighs. They frame his face, covering his ears. Your pubic bone smothers his lower visage, covering the bridge of his nose to his chin.
Squeaking, you squeeze your eyes shut. Blonde. Simon's blonde, and a white scar runs down his left eyebrow and eyelid.
"Naughty," you hear him smirk at your startled reaction, a breathy, exhaled chuckle fanning across your wet pussy lips, "Guess I'll have to fuck you so hard that you forget what you just saw."
When you return to the ceremonial hall, the guards on the door keep their eyes uncomfortably fixed on the crimson carpet. You wish you could say that your shaking legs are from nerves when you step onto the ceremonial stage to receive your medal from The King.
The smug gaze of the skull face in the crowd is a reminder of otherwise, his cum leaking into the fabric of your uniform as you bow for the monarch.
Authors Note: Congrats on your coronation, "King" Charles... Would be a shame if Diana made it rain on your big day. ;)
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Hiii!! I really love your stories, and I was wondering if you could do a Knight! König x Princess! Reader, where the reader runs away and her trusted knight, punishes her for it.
Hi! Of course!
Knight!König x Princess (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 2
Master List ✍🏽
>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, p in v
2.1k word count
👸
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The fact that you had made it so far away led you to believe that König was none the wiser. Assuming your way ahead of his trail, you turn into the local Inn, looking for a room. Upon entry, the short stocky man with a long black beard standing behind the counter looks you up and down. The purple color and high-quality fabric were a dead giveaway that you’re a woman of wealth.
“Hello, sir.” You look the man over. “I’m looking to buy a room for the night.” This is all new to you. It’s exciting.
The Innkeeper lingers for a second, looking you up and down. He’s debating on whether or not he should up charge you. “300 coin.”
The price surprises you, but again, you’ve never done this before. You nod, pulling out your coin purse, fishing for the 300 coin the man requested for the night. A booming noise causes you to jump and look behind you. There stood your knight, König. Your stomach sank lower as you registered that you’ve been found.
“Hey! Get out of here!” The Innkeeper shouts at König. “No imperial swine at my Inn!”
You turn and look at the man with a shocked expression on your face when you realize he’s yelling at König.
An annoyed growl leaves König’s throat as he steps forward, ducking underneath the door to fit inside. He glares at the Inn Keeper, his icy blue eyes barely visible underneath his helmet. Ignoring the man, he reaches out and grabs your arm.
“No more running, Prinzessin. You’re coming home.”
“No!” you shout, pulling your arm back, trying to break free of his powerful grip.
“Get out of here! The both of you!”
“Shut the fuck up!” König turns, roaring at the smaller man.
The Innkeeper freezes in shock when the giant Knight snaps. He watches as König grabs your waist with his other hand and hoists you up over his shoulders. As he walks out of the doors, you fight him, kicking and screaming, demanding that he set you free.
König ignores your whining as he walks you outside to his horse. Your weak body is no match for him. He sits you on his horse, holding your hips firmly. “Don’t make me have to tie you up.” A cheeky grin pulls at his lips underneath his helmet.
You roll your eyes at him, crossing your arms remaining defiant. “I don’t even know how you caught up to me so quickly.”
“Caught up? Prinzessin, I knew you were gone the moment you left.”
Looking over your shoulder, you give him a surprised look. “You knew the whole time? Why did you let me go so far?”
“I wanted to see how far you would make it. Then I heard the man back there try to con you out of more coin; figured it let it go far enough.”
König sits behind you straddling the horse, his arms reach around your waist to grab the reins to begin his journey back to the castle. He’s been your guard since the day you became eight-teen. You’ve been a pain in his ass ever since. As you’ve grown into a woman, you’ve only become harder to keep control of.
“You should have just let me leave. It’s not like I’m important. I have four other sisters.”
“Each one of you is important.” König says in a huff.
“Yeah, to be a pawn in some political bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth Prinzessin, you’re already on thin ice.”
“On thin ice.” You mock. “What are you going to do? Punish me?” You scoff, crossing your arms.
“You could have cost me my life. I should punish you.”
“Stop talking!” You snap.
Deep down inside you do feel guilty for that idea. König has always been there for you, never really judging you the way others have in the past. While true, there is a deep want to live your life for yourself; König is just an obstacle in your way.
König ignores your attitude and just continues on focusing on getting you home safely. Your body relaxes back to König’s as the journey seems to drag on. There is a pit in your stomach, a deep dread of returning back to the castle. You know you’ll just wait there until you’re given away to a neighboring country.
Seeing the landscape of home approaching, you turn and look at König. “It would have been better if you let me run away.”
“The King would have simply ordered my head on a stake and send more men after you. Plus, you look and act like a little rich girl. You wouldn’t last two days out there.”
You say nothing back, knowing that he’s right. There are no limits you father wouldn’t go to just to get you back. Plus, who knows what type of men you could have possibly encountered. The sound of the gates drawing to allow the horse to enter, snaps you out of your own thoughts. The guards up front bow their heads in respect to you as you pass by.
König rides to the stables, slowing his horse to a stop before getting off. He turns to you with one hand out to help you. You place your hand in his, accepting his help begrudgingly. The second your feet touch the ground his arm snakes around your waist.
“König…” The annoyance in your voice is obvious.
“Where are you going?” He asks, pressing you closely to his body.
“To my room.”
“Not before you take your punishment.”
König reaches up, pulling his helmet off, placing it on the back of his horse. He presses his nose into the crook of your neck, smelling how sweaty you got after a full day on the run. He pulls off his gauntlets, tossing them down. You gasp as his hands reach up to cup your breasts, squeezing tightly.
“König! You know I'm to remain pure.”
“Prinzessin, I doubt the King assumes you’re pure anymore.” König chuckles.
You smirk remembering the little rendezvous with a stable boy when you were six-teen. König turns your body around to face him, your eyes focusing on his messy blonde hair and scarred face. All these years and you’ve never seen König past his eyes. Both of his massive hands up your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. A small moan leaves your lips as you feel the passion radiating for you. Still, you push away. You turn your head trying to reject him, but he holds you firmly in place.
“No, Prinzessin. Don’t act like you don’t want this.”
König’s lips trail down your neck, biting lightly as he goes. You feel your pussy getting wet, tingles running down your body with every bite. He drops one of his hands down to your ass, squeezing through the thick layers of fabric that cover you.
“You’re so beautiful, but you look better with my cum covering your face.” König growls.
His hand wraps around the back of your neck and turns you around, bending you over a stack of hay. He begins to bunch up your layers until he sees the skin of your bare ass. With one hand he reaches back, spanking you with great force. A loud groan leaves your lips.
“König!”
“Was? I said you’d be punished.” He spanks you once more.
Already you can feel a handprint beginning to form on your ass for his heavy hits. You feel his fingers push between your legs, swiping between your slit to feel how wet you are. A deep hum falls from his lips as he rubs back and forth between your folds, just grazing over your clit.
“Look at you…nice and ready.” He pulls back his arm, spanking you once more. Stepping back, he begins to take off his tasset to set his cock free.
You stand to turn to him, but he stops you, pressing you back into the hay. “Don’t move until I’m done with you.”
König’s cock springs free from its prison, he strokes it a few times before walking back behind you. He presses up against your entrance, the tip of his cock slipping in. A small whimper leaves your lips, you can’t believe he’s actually going through with this.
“König, you can’t do this. What if I get pregnant? What if we are found?” Panic begins to set in. Not that you’re opposed to being intimate with König, but what will happen if you get caught? Father will kill you both.
“Your father will have us both used as an example, so it’s best you stay quiet, ja?”
König grabs your hips to steady you before shoving more of his cock in. Inch by inch you get stretched by König’s giant cock. It’s been years since you’ve had sex, and he’s definitely making you feel like a virgin again.
“Oh—fuck!” You moan loudly.
“Shhh, Prinzessin.” He spanks your ass over the already sore skin.
Your eyes flutter back as he completely buries his cock into you. You reach out, grabbing handfuls of the stiff hay as you try your hardest to stay quiet. His thrust quickly become hard, leaving you no time to adjust to his size. He can feel your walls flutter around him.
“Mein Gott, you’re tight.” König says as his face scrunches in pleasure.
“K- König…” You moan out pathetically, each thrust knocking the air from your lungs. Your creamy cunt swallowed him whole, leaving a thick white ring around the base of his cock.
“Das ist es.” His voice raspy from the euphoria his body is experiencing. For the last ten years he’s been so busy with you that he hasn’t been allowed time to date. The women here in the castle fear him for his size or are simply too old for his liking.
You, you’re perfect. A trouble maker and a woman closer to his age. He knows you might never be married off at this age, so you’re free for him to claim. Pleasured huffs leave his lips as he picks up his pace, thrusting into you with no regard for how his cock might be too much for your small size. The sound of his skin hitting against you's echoing within the stalls.
A rush of ecstasy takes over your body. You whimper softly as your legs tense. Your cunt begins to clench around König’s length. He laughs and pulls out. With one hand he grabs a fistful of your hair and the other spanks you in rapid succession, until you begin to squirm to try and get away.
“You’re not allowed to cum, Prinzessin.” He yanks you back by your hair. “Kneel.” He’s demanding, not asking.
You look up at him and drop to your knees in front of him. He walks closer to you, the smell of your cunt and his sweaty must consuming your nostrils as his cock is presented to you. Your eyes fall to it, his foreskin hugging his pink head, his length covered in cream streaks of your arousal.
With your hair in his fist, he pushes your face towards his cock. You turn your head, getting your own slick smeared across your face. Your hands go to his armored thighs and push away.
“I’m not putting that in my mouth.”
“Ja, you are. Open up before I force you to.”
Your eyes gaze up into his sky-blue eyes, his pupils wide from lust. Slowly, you open your mouth for König. He wastes no time showing his cock in. You quickly gag as he tries to shove himself down your throat. Tears build up in your eyes and you cough, spitting up thick globs of spit that escape the sides of your lips.
König watches you struggle, panting and he thrust forward into your mouth. His heavy balls slap against your chin, feeling your saliva drip onto them. The loud sounds of your gargles adding to his experience.
“You’re doing such a good job taking my cock. Look at you, so beautiful with tears on your face.” His voice is shaky with pleasure. He won’t be able to last much longer.
König steps forwards, pinning your head between him and the hay. He moves his hands and just begins to thrust into your mouth as if he were fucking your pussy. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to not throw up, when he pulls out. You look up with wide eyes as a rope of cum lands on your face. Your body jerks from surprise as more cum falls on your face.
“Suck the tip.” He says pushing his cock back to your mouth, a glob of his cum dangling from the head. As he shoves himself back in, the taste of his salty cum consumes your senses. You gag from the taste, but you still suck it for him. Your eyes gazing up at him as you do.
“I knew you’d look beautiful on your knees.” König says with a cheeky grin on his lips.
Part 2
#please read the warnings#tw: noncon#konig#konig x reader#könig#konig x y/n#könig cod#könig x reader#konig cod#konig smut#könig mw2#könig smut#könig call of duty#konig call of duty#könig x y/n#könig x you#konig x you#konig mw2#konig x reader smut#cod smut#smut#cod konig#cod könig
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"FIRST LOVE💗 " - RIO X READER
➨ rio's library - good girl nbc
「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」
Summary: For the girls who wanted a younger rio x reader. Here it is; Rio’s fallen for the daughter of his boxing coach. Based around this ask.
Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Reader
Warnings: none this is fluffy 🐻 🐻 🐻
Word Count: 1K
“Tell me you love me” Rio laughs, pulling you to him. His thumbs looped into the belt loops of your jeans as his hands rest on your butt. Looking up you laugh at the sight of him wearing your puppies of choice.
“No” you respond and he pulls you in closer.
“Don’t play with me” he laughs sitting on the trunk of his car.
“Tell me you love me” he repeats and you look up at him about to respond when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. Taking your hands from his knees you reach into it to see your dad in the caller ID.
“Dad?” You question picking up.
“Maria says we also need vegetables, I texted you the list. Don’t come back without it” he says talking about your stepmom.
“Okay, it’ll take a little longer” you respond.
“Hurry we’re all hungry” your father says and Rio hips down from his car swinging an arm around you as you hand up.
“Lucky for you I know where all this shit is” he smiles, taking the phone from you. The two of you walk like that from the very back of the parking lot into the store. You grab a cart and Rio leads the way. His abuelita has taught him well or he’s excellent at bullshitting.
“Hey, Y/N it’s nice to see you” one of your friends' moms says, eyeing Rio.
“Nice to see you too Ma’am” you smile.
“One of your brother's friends?” She pries, ready to sell your secrets for a chance to be with your father.
“Yeah, he works at the gym” you don’t hesitate.
“Christopher” Rio smiles.
“Mhm, be good sweetie and stay away from boys who look at you the way he does. They’re all trouble” she advises before walking away. Everyone’s already made plans for the kind of man they want you to be with.
“So you don’t love me?” Rio whispers in your ear to taunt you.
“I told you not to get that neck tatt” you laugh evading the question and he smiles laughing.
“I’ll get one for you, when you tell me you love me” Rio whispers in your ear again, in good humour.
“We should tell my dad.” You sigh.
“Why?”
“Because he’s your boxing coach and it could get messy if he thinks you’re a fox in the hen house” you explain.
“You won’t even tell me you love me, he doesn’t have to worry about us having sex” Rio scoffs, placing the final ingredients in your cart. You smile happy he knows and he smiles back winking at you.
“You’re okay with that?” You ask and he shrugs walking at your side.
“I’m seeing you when your dad can fuck me up, my heads already gone. Probably best for my well being you don’t sleep with me yet so I can stop spinning” Rio says making you blush.
“My dad likes you” you share candidly.
“For now” Rio says knowing how things work.
“I don’t think us dating changes that. Just makes you the enemy first, his pupil second.” You explain and Rio gets his money out to pay ahead of you.
“Keep it” he smiles, allowing you to pocket the money your father gave you for the errand.
“Rio-“ you object.
“Shh” he says before helping you bring the groceries to his car. You both second guess parking so far out for some privacy. Rio gets your door and you sit passenger side waiting for him to get in. He pulls off and you look at each other smiling before the blushing happens and you’re both filled with butterflies. Rio’s hand interlocks fingers with yours and he kisses thrm. “I’ll tell him” he relents.
“Thank you” , you sigh with relief.
“Then we can go places together and go on dates” you say with excitement.
“Where do you want to go first?” Rio asks and you relax against the headrest pondering the thought. Rio watches your eyes sparkle. He watches the thoughts roll through your head as he waits for the red light to turn green.
“Let’s go to the roller skating rink”
“No way I’m not busting my ass in front of you on our first date” Rio smiles.
“Where then?” You ask.
“Take you somewhere nice to eat so you can get all dressed up and I can show you off” Rio says with his priorities all over the place. You laugh.
“After you show me off?”
“A drive in, we can watch something scary so you have an excuse to be all over me” Rio proposes and you love it.
“No imagination” you sigh, acting like it’s a bad suggestion.
“I don’t care as long as you’re happy and I’m not busting my ass,” Rio concludes.
“What about an art class? I could look for something. A workshop activity we could do?” You ask obliterating Rio’s idea of romance which was everything he’d ever seen on television.
“If it makes you happy” Rio shrugs.
“Okay, I’ll find something” you smile, getting ahead of yourself.
The rest of the ride is short and you find your father waiting out front. He scrunches his face at the sight of Rio taking the bags of food from you.
“It’s all here” you tell your father.
“Christopher” your dad nods in acknowledgement.
“Sir” Rio nods.
“You staying for dinner? The boys aren’t back yet” Your dad says.
“I’d like to speak to you about something” Rio’s voice cracks a little.
“Sure” your dad says heading in to set down the groceries. You sigh watching from the kitchen as they talk outside. Maria, your father’s current fixation watches you like a hawk.
“Told you he likes you” she smiles. “Don’t work, I’ll convince your dad you should be allowed to date, if you try and get him to take me on a trip for my birthday. Three days away can go a long way” she comments, chopping up the produce.
“Why don’t we just make dinner like we said we would?” You ask peeling your eyes away from the outside window. She smiles hearing your dad’s voice raise.
“Kid has some balls” she scoffs as your heart races. He gets louder and she stops putting the knife down to head outside. You stay out of it wanting to speak to Rio but not wanting things to get worse. “Babe she’s a good kid, you should reward honesty. She’s not having sex and she wanted him to tell you. Be her hero not her warden. You can’t protect her from everything. If he messes up guess what, you’re still her dad, you can go off” Maria says reasoning with him.
“I like the kid. I don’t want to have to kill him. But that’s my baby girl” your father snaps.
________-
Authors Note: Testing, I wanted this to be longer but I haven't written teenage puppy love in so long I hope I did okay. This was supposed to be one long update but I had to break it up so you all could have something in relatively timely matter.
Let me know if you enjoyed it.
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F@cking the boss - Harvey x Reader Part 2/2
Summary: after weeks of being sexual with Harvey he catches you trying to get with a guy after he flirts with thousands of females, Harvey immediately reminds y/n who she belongs to.
Warning: S M U T.
It had been three amazing weeks of being with Harvey Specter, the bizarre surprises, the midnight sex, the office sex, everything about it was amazing, but something was bothering you. Harvey never called you his girlfriend, never said it was exclusive, so you went out to the club with Lisa, someone you met on the firm, you ended up getting a little too drunk and had what you thought was an amazing idea at the time. You called Harvey's driver to bring you home, you attempted to bring a guy home with you but the driver refused, so you drunkingly apologized and flopped in the seat.
You woke up on your couch, your head was pounding, you had no idea how you got inside from the driver's car and you still felt tipsy and why was all of the lights off except for one? and why were there legs hanging off the chair in the corner? Sitting up straight you tried to blink the drowsiness and alcohol away as you stared at the person in the corner "Harvey?" You questioned as you noticed his bag and suit jacket laying on the counter. "My driver called." He huffed "How did I get inside?" You asked groaning as he flipped on the living room light "I was the one who picked you up." He stated "You were too drunk to realize and so was Lisa. I'm disappointed in you both. and you trying to take home a gas station clerk? really?" He asked, you felt like every defendant you heard him question on the stand in his trials. "I..You!..In my defense Harvey you've never stated what we were! You always flirt with girls so I thought it was a casual boss and receptionist deal" You huffed crossing your arms "Cut the bullshit Y/n" He said sharply standing up, you looked up at him raising your eyebrows "You have commitment problems, Harvey" You challenged, it was dangerous when you two argued, it either ended up in Jessica being mediator to make you two get along or it ended in rough make-up sex where Harvey refuses to say he's wrong, you both were hard headed and stubborn and both fought to get whatever you wanted.
"Stand up" He ordered, you stood your ground, not giving in "You kneel, Harvey" You ordered back, he glared, narrowing his eyes towards you, you were both glaring before finally Harvey took a large stride forward grabbing your top pulling you to your feet "You wanna be with me? Let's do it. You wanna ride my dick? Go right ahead princess. You wanna make this a real thing? let's do it" He said pulling you closer before resting his hands on your hips. You looked at him nodding before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands immediately coming up to rest on your ass. You leaned forward kissing his neck while he walked forward until he hit the closest wall like thing near you both, the large windows of your apartment that were only giving you privacy by the shitty curtains that didn't even reach the bottom of the curtains. As your back hit the wall you let your head fall back, you could feel his hot breath on your neck as he slowly moved one hand to your hair to tug lightly "Do you want this, Princess?" He whispered, you nodded whimpering and mentally crumbling because of the nickname. "Good. Because I've had a feeling I need to show you who's mine" He grunted as he pulled your hair more causing you to look fully up, You gasped as all of a sudden you felt him press himself against you while kissing your neck and squeezing and twisting your nipple. As fast as it started though, it was just as fast stopping, Harvey watched as you basically held onto his shoulders to keep yourself from sinking to your knees in desperation. "See? See how fast I can take this all away?" He grunted before holding your hips pulling you towards your room pushing you onto the bed, slowly pulling off your dress and coat, you smirk at him thinking he's going to continue whining and groaning as you saw him start to put on your sleep shorts and tanktop, only now do you take in his bed head, his nightpants and t-shirt that was lazily thrown on, and the time, three-twenty-six AM. Harvey woke up and came and got you? Then stayed? All when he has a deposition tomorrow morning at nine AM, Maybe he did love you.
You woke up again at Six that morning to Harvey climbing out of bed. "Harv?.." You whispered watching as he tiredly turned around to look at you, resting a hand on your cheek "hmm?" he hummed softly in curiosity "I love you" you whispered "I love you too" He whispered tiredly kissing your forehead before going to take a shower. You took the to plan.
The office was closed, everybody but a couple people left a bit ago and you took your opportunity to hide under Harvey’s desk, waiting for him. It only took a couple of minutes before you saw him take a seat and scoot forward, you slowly started undoing his belt. “Y/n. What’re you doing? You’re not suppose to be here I gave you the day off” he questioned holding a hand over one of yours, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand “came to thank you for taking care of me..for waking up and doing all of that for me..and for loving me” You whispered looking up at him as he scooted back to see you.
“Oh really?” He asked “who says I love you?” He questioned teasingly “shut up, jerk, you said so this morning” you grumbled smacking his hand playfully “I’m kidding, I love you” he smiled leaning down to peck your lips “go ahead my princess, but don’t get caught”
You smirked as he scooted his chair forward again helping you undo his slacks and belt, you smiled leaning in to give a playful bite to his thigh, he grabbed your hair tugging a bit “gentle” he demanded taking his suit jacket and vest off, leaving him in his shirt, tie, and slacks, his dick being pulled out between his boxers and slacks. You took your time, taking in the sight before licking your hand a couple of times, wrapping it around his dick and starting to motion your hand up and down. You changed your pace, from fast to slower, you were listening to Harvey’s breathing, how it’d pick up and relax. “Get to work, slut.” He grunted growing frustrated with your half-ass teasing, you smiled peeking up at him through the small crack between the desk and his torso, he had a rough glare directed towards you. He raised his eyebrows as you gave him a swift nod, allowing him to grab your hair and lower your head to where you were taking his dick in your mouth. You immediately took over swallowing around him as you moved your head up and down, he kept a hold on your hair trying to focus on keeping a straight face as the late night workers passed by.
You could feel yourself getting wet in your thong but you didn’t really care at the moment, you slowly brought your tongue up the shaft and around his tip before Harvey pushed your head down farther making you take his dick down your throat. You whimpered a bit as you swallowed around him hearing the door open and close “hey Harvey, I’ve got those Briefing done for you a day early I’ve also gotta talk to you about a case” Mike said standing in the middle of the office “thank you mike. Leave it on my desk and we can talk tomorrow” Harvey demanded dismissing him “but I really think these need to be handled tonight” he protested “Ross! Go home! Get rest!” Harvey snapped watching the kid rush out towards his office then the elevators.
Harvey tugged your hair pulling you off before scooting back pulling you up to sit on his lap, you could feel his erection between your legs, and just by the look he was giving you, you knew you were about to have to be carried home. “Take em off.” He whispered in your eye watching you push your thong off out from under your skirt, he helped you position yourself over his dick and lap before you slowly lowered yourself feeling his dick enter you and stretch you out to his size and liking. “I had to wake up at one in the fucking morning” he grunted as he thrusted up against your hips, you immediately jerked forward feeling his tip hit your cervix as you dug your nails into his back “come pick up your drunk ass. Had to run off a guy you were trying to let fuck you.” He growled thrusting his hips more often forcing you to bite his shoulder to stay quiet. “Then deal with having to see you in the hottest fucking lingerie I’ve ever seen on your amazing body, and yet the only thing I could think of- god Damnit it” he huffed before lifting you up with ease carrying you to his couch before laying you down pushing his dick back inside of your pussy. You whimpered wrapping your legs around his waist “-was you wearing it for some other guy. Whenever you belong to me. You’re my fucking slut. Only mine” he grunted starting to fuck you a lot harder, wrapping his hand around your throat squeezing lightly. You whined tightening your legs around him as he took his tie off shoving it into your mouth to keep quiet “now be quiet while daddy fucks your brains out and reminds you that you’re mine.” He whispered to you before using his other hand to start rubbing your clit, your back arched immediately as you turned your head to the side, between his finger work and fucking you it was too much. He was too much. He was too good. “Fuck princess. Good girl, you’re such a good slut for me” he huffed in your ear as he sped up his thrusts. You whimpered attempting to close your legs whenever you heard the elevator ding, meaning someone was just a couple feet from Harvey’s office, he smirked, and you could swear you saw a devious glint in his eye. He pressed his hips further into you making your back arch and you gasp. He slowed his pace making you try and push your hips back to feel him fill you up again but he stayed before grabbing your hips pulling you up making you sit on his lap to ride him. “Ride my cock, slut.” He demanded “you want me to know you’re sorry for trying to fuck someone else? Ride me until I say we’re done.” He demanded watching you bite your lip and nod “such a desperate slut” Harvey growled using his thumb to slowly go over your clit as you slowly rolled your hips making both you and Harvey moan. You immediately started to bounce your hips after that, loving the feeling of him holding your hips and directing your moves as you rode his cock. “F-fuck Harvey” you tried to groan through his tie, he ripped it out of your mouth as you pulled his torso closer, never failing the motion of your hips as he started kissing your neck and exposed cleavage. “My desperate Slut. Nobody can fuck you like this and I’m gonna make sure you know.” He grunted in your ear, you whined tightening around him making him halt his movements as he started to cum inside of you making you whine and moan moving your hips, Harvey quick to keep your hips still as he finished “Pleaaaase daddy” you whined as he slowly pulled out crawling down between your legs.
Harvey gave your Clit a solid lick making your hips jolt and your hands get entangled in his hair. You moaned and thrived around as he started to show no mercy against you or your pussy. By the fifth time you came your legs were shaking like crazy and you had tears going down your cheeks from pleasure. You watched as he slowly leaned up wiping his mouth with his thumb before popping it in his mouth sucking any flavor left off of his thumb. You whimpered watching him before he slowly pulled your thong back on your body, he fixed himself back into his slacks before lifting you up ready to help you out to the car “that’s just go one, princess..we’re going again when we get home” he whispered in your ear making you squeeze your legs together in anticipation and whine holding his hair tightly in your hands.
#harvey specter#harvey specter x reader#Harvey suits#suits#suits usa#suits netflix#mike ross#Harvey specter smut
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— soft moments with lando norris.
the two of you were chilling on the couch when lando suddenly asks to take a picture of you both to test out his new polaroid camera. as you inch closer and put your arms around each other to pose for the camera, a thought comes into your mind and that is to catch him off-guard by tickling him just as the camera clicks. little do you know he had the same plan brewing in his mind. the result is a picture of you two bursting out laughing. and lando keeps the polaroid picture in his wallet so that he can look at it whenever he misses you.
on lazy days when you’re both bored, he likes to do your make-up, letting you straddle him on his lap while he sits on the couch or a chair. sometimes, you playfully tickle him or interrupt him by placing multiple kisses all over his face just because you can. he tries to look annoyed but he can’t stop a shy and bright smile from appearing on his lips as he orders you to stop messing around and to stay still but before he continues, he gives you a peck on the lips, claiming that “you missed that spot earlier.”
one day, you’re giggling at something he said, looking ahead at the colorful sky painted by the setting sun. little do you know that he’s staring at your side profile, completely lovestruck. with a smile on his face, he cups your cheek and guides your face towards him as he leans in. it’s a sweet kiss, neither able to stop yourselves from smiling into the kiss.
it’s 3 a.m, the two of you lying in bed, him in your hoodie, you in his sweatshirt. both sleepy but not enough to actually fall asleep. and honestly you don’t want to. sharing earbuds as you listen to your favorite songs from your late-night playlist. admiring the way the dim night-light falls on each other’s faces as you gaze at one another with tired eyes and soft smiles.
him gently caressing your body with his fingers in the morning while he waits for you to wake up, then smiling at you and saying a soft ‘hi’ when you open your eyes to sleepily gaze at him.
him resting his chin in his palm as he listens to you ramble about your favorite things even though he’s confused as hell and doesn’t really understand. but the little smile on his face and his bright eyes is evident that he just enjoys listening to you talk.
playing and dancing in the rain when it starts pouring in the middle of your date on the rooftop; splashing at each other, spinning together like the goofballs you are; him falling in love all over again as he watches the way your eyes crinkle while you laugh; and you falling in love all over again as you watch his smile widen while he looks at you. in the back of your minds, both of you know that you’ll question your decision when tomorrow comes and you get sick but right now, nothing else really matters as you let yourselves get lost in the moment.
it’s the feeling of walking into your home after being outside for a long time during a winter day, being greeted by his warm embrace, and feeling instantly at home. he makes you two hot chocolate and you sit on the couch, sharing a fluffy blanket while you watch something or talk about your days or anything that comes to mind.
it’s him trying his best to quietly and gently adjust something around you when you’ve fallen asleep: taking off your glasses, securing the blanket around you, pulling the open book away so that you don’t bend the pages and bookmarking it for you, etc.
you go to an arcade together and see two kids playing a game, they say it’s too hard and you two just exchange looks like “bullshit, we can handle it”; but when you two start playing the game, you both realize that those kids were really overreacting, because the game is harder than they said. you two barely blink as you try to finish the game and you just realize you’ve gone too far when one of the arcade staff says they’re closing and you two need to leave. you look at each other, knowing that tomorrow you will come back to finish this damn game..
it’s you two going to your favorite places and starting make funny stories for each person in the place, like a man asking for strong black coffee probably hasn’t slept in two days, or a tired looking woman probably has three cats and one of them is called a smelly cat.. you two just realize how far you’ve gone when your stomachs start to hurt from laughing so hard.
#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n
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Stranger Than Fiction
Part 28: Games
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...
AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse
It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms.
Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics.
“People think I’m insane, because I’m frowning all the time… I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind.”
“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy.
“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him.
“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume. Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song.
“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”
Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well.
“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.
“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.
“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk.
“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh.
“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them.
“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house.
“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around.
“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic.
Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room.
“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach.
“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy.
“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable.
“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly.
“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially.
“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain.
“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face.
“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow.
“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead.
“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room.
“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan.
“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years.
“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago.
“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it.
“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.
“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.
“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.
This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it.
“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly.
“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile.
“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves.
Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately.
“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.
“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking.
“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.
“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance.
“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.
“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-
“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door.
“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed.
“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans.
“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind.
“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow.
“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes.
“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters.
Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism.
“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder.
“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too.
Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.
“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her.
“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you.
“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly.
“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs.
“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll.
The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out.
“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car.
“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness.
“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return.
“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word.
“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth.
“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes.
“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.
“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk.
“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb.
It turns out that you ARE that bad.
Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores.
The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from.
Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group.
After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game.
Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging.
“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.
“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other.
“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak.
“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.
“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him.
“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe.
“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders.
“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.
“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.
“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling.
“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game.
“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words.
“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.
“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question.
“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on.
“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath.
“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission.
“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.
“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga.
“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game.
“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.
“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.
AN: sorry this took so long... again!
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𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑠.
PAIRING: tdc!gally x fem!reader WARNINGS: gally's death, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: i miss you by adele WORD COUNT: 928 A/N: this was really fast paced but i've had the end part in my mind for weeks now so sorry if its rushed :)
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they could never make you hate him, even after what happened to chuck.
as much as you wanted to, you just couldn’t do it. he had been your best friend, your crush, your rock, your lover.
it was so good at first, maybe too good to be true, whatever it was it felt right with him. gally was the only thing in the glade keeping you sane, whole.
with thomas grabbing you by your waist, pulling you away from his body. gally giving you a last “it’s okay,” before you were snatched away from him.
tears streaming down your cheeks as you reached out for him, squirming in thomas’s hold trying to free yourself, as you were both tugged through the exit by others in full combat gear.
you were finally out of the maze, but at what cost?
after his death, you were distant from the others except from newt. he always made sure you were eating and drinking, checking up on you when distanced yourself from everyone.
newt was like a brother to you, having him close helped, but then again what could he do for what only felt like heartache.
your eyes swollen and puffy as tears rolled down your cheeks, trying to keep your sniffles muffled by the sleeve of your jacket as the others slept.
time heals. well that’s what people used to say, but you think that’s complete utter bullshit because how does this ever get better?
everytime you closed your eyes you could see him, his hand shakily holding the gun in thomas’s direction, his eyes full of tears, the infection spreading across his skin. then bang! jilting yourself out of bed, chest tightening, tears. it was the same cycle every time you slept.
feeling as it was almost selfish, you got to live, you got a chance to try to survive, but here you were here moping. losing winston only added to your heartache.
nearing the last city the sound of angered shouts echoed far, definitely too many for the eight of you to take on, so you got closer to figure out what to do next.
gently pushing through the crowd, trying to get to the front to see what was happening. a hand covered your mouth, muffling you crying out for help. the other around your waist as the person who grabbed you lifted you off the ground.
the others were still ahead of you, not noticing what was happening, until it was too late. out of nowhere mini missiles were getting shot at the ground beside you, making the person who had you fumble, almost letting you go.
another person in a gas mask watched this happen, they started to grab your legs and dragged you towards a truck, if you were gonna go, you were gonna go kicking and screaming all the way.
“get off of her!” newt yelled, dragging the man who had your feet off of you, but another two came up behind him and got him too.
both of you were soon thrown into a beaten down blue truck, leaving you sat side by side, breathing heavily. a certain are you alright? look shared between the two of you before staring down the three armed, masked people in front of you.
the car ride tense and rocky as the vehicle drifted around corners, making you bump shoulders with newt.
it soon came to an abrupt stop, the doors being pulled open and the two of you nudged out of it. looking around you, you could see an abandoned car park, thomas and brenda, multiple guys with masks.
the sounds of muffled fighting could be heard in the van beside you, then bursts out jumping on the person, jorge punching them.
shouting about where brenda was, but soon stopped when he found her.
“it’s alright, we’re on the same side,”
thomas stepping closer, pushing you protectively behind him, “who the hell are you?”
after a long pause the unknown leader takes off his mask, “gally?” you mutter in disbelief, peeking out from behind thomas.
his eyes soften at the sight of you, “hey sweetheart,” giving you that familiar smile that you had missed so much.
it doesn’t take long for you to bound up to him, throwing your arms around his neck, bringing him into a bone crushing hug. he hugged you back even tighter, lifting you off of the ground with ease.
you moved back just enough to look at his face, a soft smile danced over your lips as tears filled your eyes once again, “what the fuck. how is this real?”
“i’ll explain everything inside, c’mon,” he placed you back on the ground, grasping your hand in his own as he signalled the others to follow him.
bonus:
you were now cuddled up in bed with gally. your head on his chest, legs intertwined, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist pulling you closer to him.
“i never thought we’d have this again,” speaking softly as you looked up at him, “i really thought i lost you.”
he gazes down at you, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, “whether you like it or not, i'm not going to give up on you…on us.”
“that’s what i like to hear,” you joke, playfully elbowing his side with your arm, earning a chuckle from him as you cuddled closer to each other.
for the first time in months you’d finally be able to sleep peacefully with him by your side again.
comments and reblogs are appreciated ♡
© ruewrote 2024.
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