#somehow this turned into a 5+1 fic
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alchemistc · 5 months ago
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what the agony had been for | bucktommy bonus chapter
To those of you who voted for the secret fic, told you I'd have this up before the poll even closed.
Shoutout to @chobani-flip for letting me shout about this a little so I didn't post about it on main.
“Hi there, beautiful.” He’s — he might be crying. Tommy is definitely crying, big fat tears leaking out of his eyes. There’s something magical in the air, something cozy and intimate even while the doula wipes at Liz’s brow and murmurs something low to her, and TJ curses in the kitchen moments after about the crash-bang of pans sounds. Buck can’t stop staring. He can’t stop pressing closer to Tommy, even though there’s barely any room between them not reserved for the bundle in Tommy’s arms. It’s too soon to tell whether the shade of blue will stay sparkling like Buck’s sky-blue eyes, or shift shades darker like Tommy’s — whether the wispy strands of hair atop her head will shine burnt auburn in the sun in ten years, or turn deeper and darker every winter until they match the chestnut of the crib they’d spent three hours arguing about how to build. No telling what those rosy cheeks will look like once her face isn’t still all smushed in, or whether or not she’ll always have that weird dent in the back of her skull.
bonus chapter on ao3 or start from the beginning
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asmolbirb · 6 months ago
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Temeraire is gonna send me back into a fic-writing fury, isn’t it
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nenoname · 3 months ago
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“he almost never called him stanford.” “he almost always called him stanley.” (names, nicknames and their meanings over two lives)
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update! channeling my ‘oh god studying something i hate is insanely boring and difficult i'm losing it’ onto stan and me being v sleepy onto ford
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bruh-changbin · 8 months ago
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I don’t remember writing sin city
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kyber-crystal · 10 months ago
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i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw
summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)
words: ~3.3k
warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO
a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)
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I. meet me in the middle
“Mav!”
You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”
“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 
“Be more specific.”
“I am being specific, Captain.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Fine, I need your daughter.”
“You always need her for something.”
“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”
“Actually, I’m hungry.”
“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”
“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”
“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”
“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”
You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 
It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.
“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 
“And?”
“You can sit over there.”
“I don’t want to, though.”
“Alright, then.” 
You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)
Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 
There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 
The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.
But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 
But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.
“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”
“Thanks…” 
He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 
“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”
���Yeah.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”
This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”
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II. waiting on you
As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 
“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”
Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 
Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 
“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 
“No.”
“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”
You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 
Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”
“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.
“Ah. Makes sense.”
“So, we need to do something about it.”
“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”
“You’re so right, man.”
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III. rose-tinted glasses
“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.
“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 
“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.
“Where?”
“I’m looking right at her.”
“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”
“No, you’re even better.”
You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 
“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”
Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 
“Wow…it sure is.”
He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 
Everything seems to fall into place. 
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IV. for you, i’d cross the line 
“Y/N, hey.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”
You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 
You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 
The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 
“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”
“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”
“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 
It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 
You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.
Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 
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V. saving grace
You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”
“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”
“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”
“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”
“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)
He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”
Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”
That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 
“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”
“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 
You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 
You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 
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epilogue—soul ties 
“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”
His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 
He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 
“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”
“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”
You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 
“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”
Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 
10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 
“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 
You shake your head. 
“Come on. It’s been all day.”
“No.”
“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”
“No,” you muttered bitterly. 
“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 
“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 
“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”
“What,” you exhaled.
"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."
Your heart stops.
Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 
You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 
This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.
“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”
You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”
You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 
“Sweetheart…”
“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”
“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I waited ten hours.”
“You should’ve gone home and slept.”
Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”
He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”
Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.
As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 
When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 
And you were most certainly right about that now. 
“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”
“What…what are you talking about?”
He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”
Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”
Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 
“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”
He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.
He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 
I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 
And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 
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tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi
(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)
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buddierecs · 27 days ago
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outsider pov buddie fics
these fics have a mixture of outsider pov, most from the 118 family tho all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)
paralytic narcolepsy guy hates buckley & diaz by: eightpackdiaz "paralytic narcolepsy guy is forced to listen to buckley and diaz talk to and about each other in his unconscious presence over the years. he insists he fucking hates them. but then he also accidentally helps them get engaged." word count: 5.4k important tags: 5+1 things, idiots in love, getting together good luck, babe by: hattalove "sometimes, when you've had a bad week, all you want is a romantic evening out with your wife over terrible pizza, and what you get instead is some kind of intricate gay ritual happening two tables away from you." word count: 2.1k important tags: crack, social media, jealous!eddie diaz jeep talking by: daisies_and_briars "a ride in the backseat of buck's Jeep with buck and eddie in the front gives chim new perspective on his brother-in-law's strange dynamic with his so-called "best friend.' and chim is sick of them being so oblivious." word count: 2.2k important tags: chimney han pov, oblivious!chimney han the sincerest form of flattery by: canadadry "in which brad torrence only almost passes out, and observes the aftermath." word count: 1.7k important tags: brad torrence pov, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, 8.03 fic
actually, truly by: milenadaniels "helena (and ramon) tries to find a way back into eddie's life and doesn't know what to make of finding buck around every corner she turns." word count: 14k important tags: helena diaz pov, post season 4, homophobia, pre-relationship, hurt!eddie diaz, therapy i'll call you mine by: coupe_de_foudre "5 times ravi witnesses eddie and buck fake a relationship, and the one time he realises they were married all along" word count: 9.1k important tags: 5+1 things, ravi panikkar pov, fake dating, fluff, misunderstandings, idiots in love does your firehouse know? by: allyasavedtheday "after chimney accidentally discovers buck and eddie are together they ask him to keep it a secret for a few weeks while they settle into their relationship. It goes about as well as expected." word count: 7.5k important tags: chimney han pov, secret relationship, crack a simple kind of love by: woodchoc_magnum "in which christopher watches as eddie and buck slowly fall in love." word count: 15k important tags: christopher diaz pov, pre-relationship, getting together, buckley-diaz family maybe it's the way you lean on his shoulder by: allyasavedtheday "in which naddie realises there might be more to buck and eddie's relationship than she'd originally thought." word count: 4.1k important tags: maddie han pov, feelings realisation, domestic fluff another man's child by: georges1982_96 "a 5+1 fic of chim realizing buck is chris's dad and buck gradually stumbling on the same realization" word count: 18k important tags: chimney han pov, 5+1 things, ptsd, medial trauma, homophobia, ableism, soft!buddie, protective!evan buckley don't need to be related to relate (don't need to share genes or a surname) by: champagne_for_breakfast "the one where bobby realizes he is somehow buck's father, eddie's father-in-law and christopher's grandfather all at the same time. and he may just be one conversation away from calling eddie out and making him kiss buck." word count: 10k important tags: bobby nash pov, idiots in love, getting together, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent shapes and spaces by: prettyunhinged "five times christopher calls buck his dad to other people, and the one time he finally gets to say it to buck." word count: 14k important tags: 5+1 things, christopher diaz has two dads, oblivious!buddie, getting together, team as family, fluff
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outermaybanks · 11 days ago
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possession - kinktober day three - stepcest + Rafe
a/n: pretend this isn't technically posted on nov 1 i wanted at least 3 kinktober fics i have learned my lesson next year i will pre-write at least 5 fics before oct
cw !! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT - definitely dubcon, possessive rafe, backshots, step-siblings
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You were only seven when your mom got married to your stepfather. She hadn’t taken you to meet him until they were engaged, so to your child brain, it felt like you gained 4 family members overnight. But even after the wedding, and the years following, there was one member of the family your mother put effort in keeping away from you: your stepbrother, Rafe. 
She never said it outright, no one really acknowledged it; the closest thing you got to some sort of undeniable proof was when Rafe offered to drive you to a party and your mom practically shouted at him that she wouldn’t allow that, an argument quickly breaking out until Ward just had to drive you. 
You don’t know why she insisted on keeping you two apart, maybe it was the way Rafe looked at you; maybe it was the way you looked at Rafe. By putting such effort in keeping you two distant, your mother succeeded in making you more curious in the boy. Like she dangled a carrot in front of you, then yanked it away. Sarah and Wheezie felt like siblings; so why didn’t Rafe?
Now that Ward was in a coma, your whole family minus Sarah uprooted, Rafe decided he was the man of the house,even going as far as to give himself a new hairstyle and hit the gym harder. But that didn’t stop your mom from trying to maintain control; especially when it came to you. 
“Y/N, clean up your shit, I’m tired of finding leggings in the bathroom” Rafe’s voice suddenly entered the living room before he threw your leggings at your head. You quickly tore them off, rolling your eyes at Rafe’s attitude, but then before you could even process what happened, his hand had a grip on your chin, fingers squeezing your cheeks to make you look at him. “What was that?”
You couldn’t reply, your heart racing as your eyes flickered between his, not to mention with how tight his grip on your face was, you doubt you could’ve gotten a coherent word out anyway.
“Hey, hey! What are you doing? Get away from her,” your mom shouted as she came into the living room. It was Rafe’s turn to roll his eyes as he reluctantly released his grip on you. “She needs to learn respect,” Rafe explained. “That’s not for you to decide. Go.” “Don’t talk to me like that, woman.”
It was like a stand-off. The air felt heavier, more intense now that Ward wasn’t here to get inbetween Rafe and your mom.
“It’s fine, mom, really,” you said, standing up from the couch and grabbing the leggings off the floor. “Good girl,” Rafe said quietly, but not softly. “No, no it is not fine. You do not touch her, got that?” Your mom challenged, turning her attention back to Rafe. “You’re not in charge of me.” Was all Rafe said before walking past your mother. She looked at you, almost apologetically, like this was somehow her fault, but you just walked upstairs to put your leggings in your hamper. 
That was the first time Rafe ever challenged your mother when it came to you. And he only grew more cocky as days passed. 
Rafe went out of town for business, at least that’s what your mother told you. He was gone for about a week, and when he came home in the middle of the day, seething, you had been home alone.
Rafe walked in like a man scorned, a man with an objective.
“Rafe? Mom said you would be gone for-” you couldn’t get the rest of your sentence out before Rafe took ahold of your face, fingers squishing your cheek as his large body backed you against the wall. “Shut the hell up,” he hissed. “Rafe-” “God, you just don’t know how to listen, do you? I said shut the hell up.”
Your eyes flickered between his, but not in fear, in wait; curious to see what he would do next. And Rafe took that as a challenge.
Without a word, he pulled your face forward to have enough momentum to push you over the arm of the couch, the impact knocked the wind out of you. Before you could even turn around, you heard the clinking of his belt.
“Rafe-” “Don’t play innocent. I see the way you look at me. I know you want this.”
You tried to stand up, Rafe just shoved you back down rougher, pulling his pants down to his knees before pressing himself against the flesh of your ass; the weight of him pinning you down.
“I know you feel the same way… and I know you feel this-” he rocked his hips so the tip of the tent in his boxer prodded against your traitor of a pussy. Before you could process what was happening, you felt a coolness hit you as Rafe pulled down your leggings and panties in one go. 
“Rafe- stop, this isn’t right-” “Fuck what’s right, you want it?” Rafe asked, rocking his hips more, his boxers starting to get a damp spot from your wetness. “I think she wants it…”
You let out a gasp at the feeling, your face felt hot with embarrassment, both at the betrayal of your body, and the realization his question posed. If Rafe wasn’t your step brother…
You didn’t have time to ponder, your breath caught in your throat as a strangled mix between a whine and a moan escaped at the feeling of Rafe’s thick cock pushing inside of you slowly. 
“Yeaahhhh, she fucking wanted it,” Rafe mumbled in a low voice. “Rafe!” “I know baby, s’okay… let me take care of it.”
You didn’t know if it was meant to refer to you, or his boner, but once you felt the stretch caused by him, you didn’t care, your brain practically mush as all your silly little daydreams from your horny middle school days came to life. You let out a soft moan when he started to move his hips.
“Mmmm that’s it, fucking take it,” Rafe seethed as his pace became merciless. “Rafe!” you cry out, a whiny moan following immediately after, your fingers digging into the plush of the couch. “Always knew I’d have you like this… now that your mommy isn’t here-” Rafe’s hand came down onto your ass and the sound of the slap rang in your ear. The sting of the skin perfectly complimenting the pleasure of him filling you. “Oh my god-” you breathed out like a sigh of relief as your body collapsed forward, but Rafe wrapped his thick bicep around your neck to pull you back up against him and keep you there.
“Stay right here, sweetheart… Be a good girl… so fuckin’ tight, what, those loser ain’t fuckin’ you right or somethin’?” Of course Rafe would find a way to give you shit while being balls deep inside of you. All you could do was whine in response. “Guess I gotta fuckin’ do everything ‘round here..”
His words made your walls flutter against him, and a low groan left his throat, his hand slapping your ass once more harshly gripping your hips to forcefully make you meet his thrusts. 
“Oh fuck- oh fuck- oh fuck-” you repeated yourself, too far gone to think of new words as he pushed you closer and closer to relief. “You gonna cum on your step brother’s dick, huh? Dirty girl… thought this was wrong? What would your mommy think?” You don’t know what disgusted you more, his words, or the effect they had on you, but all you could do was whine in response.
“Oh, baby girl doesn’t want to think about that?” Rafe’s pace increased, and never wavered. “What about Ward? Can’t wait to tell him how tight this pussy is-” “No- No-” You breathed out in a panic. Another slap on your ass. “There she is… let me hear you beg for it.” “Mmm- Rafe-” you whined breathlessly. “I said beg. Or I won’t let you cum,” Rafe pushed down on the small of your back to force you to arch, the tip of his dick deliciously hitting a new angle. “You’re so close… can feel it… can feel the way you're squeezin’ me.” 
“Please! Please, Rafe, let me-” “You can do better than that- c’mon, don’t make me stop-” his pace started to slow, eliciting a loud whine from you. “Nooo, please please please, don’t stop, Rafe!”
His pace tentatively increased, small whimpers and moans leaving you as all your resolve was officially gone, all you cared about was the feeling building in your stomach.
“There’s my good girl…” Rafe praised. You only muster a moan in response; trying to reach behind to pull him impossibly closer. Rafe hooked his arm around your throat, and pulled you up against his chest, his other arm crossing over your torso to hold you up. “Let me have it, baby… let me feel you cum on my cock.”
Your head fell back against Rafe’s shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut. Your hands reached behind you, desperate to hold onto him, something, anything. Your orgasm washed over your body like a wave, and Rafe’s relenting movements were the undertow, pulling you back for more and more.
“Oh- fuck- mmmm- fuuuucccckkk-” Rafe groaned as he came inside you, the warmth filling you being the exact thing you needed after the intense climax.
Rafe’s hold on you loosened, and you both slumped over the edge the couch, panting breathlessly. 
“I always get what I want, sweetheart. Everything- all of this… it’s all gonna be mine. And that includes you,” Rafe said softly, his fingers moving stray hairs behind your ear.
157 notes · View notes
cocomanga · 2 months ago
Text
The Sweetest Beat - Set 4
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Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader,
CW: Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Size Kink, Oral, BDSM, Unprotected Sex, Edging, Drunk Sex, Aggressive Sex, Overstimulation, NPD Abuse/Trauma, Intense Feral Megumi.
READER DISCRETION ADVISED: HEAVY Noncon/Dubcon Please DO NOT proceed if that triggers you. Yes, I'm so extra. Ha! This is the Megumi I want to royally f*ck up my life honey. I couldn't find him in fics so I created him myself. Brace yourself.
Note: please block me if my work is not your cup-o-tea. I do not own any of the character art Please respect my blog art.
Reader is encouraged to listen to music mentioned for context :)
Total WC : 15K
Wanna take it from the top? Start at Set 1🎶;)
<< The Sweetest Beat - Set 3
The Sweetest Beat - Set 5 >>
TSB - Masterlist ~ AO3 | Wattpad | Playlist
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro is the leader of a fresh new rock band. They're currently playing covers and gaining a following at an alarming rate, skyrocketing his career as an indie artist. But when his best friend introduces him to a beautiful someone and sparks fly, he's challenged to navigate her fear of loving freely.
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..... Minors: You have no business here. Love you, but please don't ....
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▶ SET 4 Your Interlude – Sabrina Claudio Lung - Vancouver Sleep ClinicPrototype – Andre 3000 Lippincott - Animals As Leaders The Pretender - Foo Fighters Smile Like that – Esperanza Spalding Closer To Me – H.E.R. Double Back – Coco Jones I’m not OK – H.E.R. Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean Love You Like I Do – Vancouver Sleep Clinic Fall In - Esperanza Spalding
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The office gave off a bit of a chill, with the exception of the body heat between Megumi and you. Most of the time no one was present there at this hour. The atmosphere was tranquil. Still and quiet, pierced through by the sound of the radio he always kept on in his office, the volume turned down extremely low for white noise, playing a familiar song:
Your Interlude - Sabrina Claudio.
The two of you rested peacefully together in these early hours of the morning, in one of his most precious spaces, somewhere important to him.
Megumi had awakened just before dawn, gently tugged out of the depths of his slumber by his consistently wandering mind. Even as he rested in his subconscious, his body, delightfully disoriented, reminded him that things were somehow not the same today.
Today, there was something very different. Something special.
You were there with him. Lying peacefully next to him. The warmth he felt was reminiscent of his childhood, waking up to a gift on Christmas morning. Your beautiful presence by his side.
You were his. And finally, in the most intimate way, completely relaxed and perfectly … vulnerable.
There was no denying how much he liked you. And yet, as of right now, unfortunately, this is a complicated position for the both of you to be in. On mornings like this, Megumi had a hard time.
His body seemed to have a mind of it's own and, of course, he preferred to tame it by something much warmer and softer than what he alone possessed.
Now, this time, he finally had someone. Someone soft. Someone sweet. Someone nice, warm, and cozy. Comfortable. Safe. Someone he truly not only wanted, but needed.
And it’s you. You’re his.
As he peered toward you, and his eyes adjusted to the dark, the shape of your face slowly came into view as slivers of light peeked through tiny openings in the thick drawn curtains. He turned his body toward you, on his soft, comfortable sleeper. It had been about six hours since you both passed out, and he couldn’t be happier to see you here, still next to him.
It felt as if it had taken so long to get you here. You are so beautiful to him. And somehow he could never get enough of you.
I knew I’d always want her. From the moment I saw her.
As relaxed as he is, Megumi’s a special type. The passionate type. The dominant type. The … insatiable type.
After taking time away from you, after getting a taste of you and you disappearing the way you did… last night? That wasn’t enough. Not even close. And seeing you like this? It was only a trigger. A trigger that quickly fired off another round in the barrel of his ravenous nature.
His heart beat heavily in his chest as his gaze rested on your sleeping face. His blood quickly warming in his veins as he took in the perfect image before him that he was sure to record in his mind. He wanted to always remember you like this. And the way he fiercely desired you. He hadn't quite told you. He wanted to show you.
I hope she knows what she’s gotten herself into…
Lung - Vancouver Sleep Clinic
began to play as you lay there, quiet and pretty, the blanket pulled over your back, your hair in a ruffled mess, strands twisted softly in random directions across your face and his arm as he lay next to you.
Your lips slightly parted, your breaths soft and slow, interrupted by tiny murmurs as your head rested comfortably on your forearm.
Megumi’s gaze hovered at your face, his desire stirring inside him, the desire to feel you all over again. To touch more. To taste more.
He gently pinched the blanket and pulled it down slowly, sliding it off of your back as he watched the fabric rise and fall over the outline of your body, unveiling your beautifully smooth skin, the side of your bare breast just barely revealing your nipple as you lay on your belly, his eyes riding each and every one of your curves like waves as they traveled up and down your body.
So fucking pretty.
He reached his large, calloused hand over toward you, his fingertips grazing across your supple skin, it's texture soft and smooth. Your tiny flinch and sleepy moan at his touch, and the contrast against his hand arousing him all the more.
His lids fell halfway over his eyes as he took in the sight of you. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss your soft shoulder which curved upward into your arm as it supported your head.
She still smells so good.
He inhaled deeply as he pulled the blankets down more, his temperature rising steadily with every extra inch of your body that his eyes could see, until the blanket was completely removed, revealing you in all your beautiful splendor.
Megumi had a tendency to get what he wanted. He never felt the need to speak much, because he’s confident in his value. Not overly confident, but… content. If he ever had something to prove, he had no issue doing so, simply by existing at his best, which was usually excellence. That consistently got him where he needed to be.
Anything it seemed he couldn’t get, he accepted as just not being meant for him. It was what he believed in. Getting shit done meant not being complacent, not settling. Doing what’s required.
He always felt that obtaining something truly meant to be, something he needed, was a sustainable responsibility. And you, you were absolutely something… no… some one he needed.
You were his next greatest accomplishment. Not only an attained goal, but him reaching yet another level of greatness in his life. He recognized greatness. And YOU were it. Precious. Amazing. He had no reason to desire less. He wanted someone as great as you.
Many of the people he regularly met were … abrasive to say the least. Personalities riddled with anger, disregard and ulterior motives, with the exception of his band and his best friend of course. The people that seemed to travel through his life always just wanted something. To attach themselves to him, or to somehow control him to get what they felt they needed.
But not you.
From the very beginning, your frequency was high. A genuine disposition on a wavelength of kindness, your voice a gentle vibration, and a level of humility that he rarely ever saw.
Your sweetness was like an addiction to him. It dripped from you like honey, and he could smell it on you like a starved grizzly.
Ever since the first night the saw you, He craved you. Constantly.
I need more. Right now.
You stirred as he carefully lifted your hips, pushing a pillow underneath you, just enough for him to gain access.
One more should do it.
Your body was completely limp as you lay there, unconscious.
He positioned himself behind you as he sat on his knees between your thighs, one of your knees propped up around the pillows, the other leg straight. He could see between them, but only just a little. He was unable to view your entrance clearly, let alone get inside without moving you a bit more.
His heart thumped faster each second as his hooded dark blues traversed up and down your legs. Your smooth, beautiful legs, leading up to that pretty round ass.
Megumi hovered his entire body over yours, leaning into you, his hands resting on each side of you in the position of a push up, his face nestled into the crook of your neck, pressing his chest softly into your back. His arms held him up as he inhaled your scent, nuzzling into your neck with his eyes closed, planting soft kisses in different areas of your nape and shoulders.
Haah… she drives me fucking crazy.
His hardness pressed firmly between the soft cheeks of the tops of your legs as he exhaled. His face and lips followed the curves of your back as he slid down lower, lifting a hand to slowly trace the outline of your body, pressing lightly against the sides of your breasts, gliding down to your waist as he peppered your back with kisses, strands of his hair following the patterns his lips left behind.
He reached your thighs, leaning his face in between your legs, dark blues staring into your center … that sweet peach that he gets to taste, hopefully now, as often as he wants.
Megumi began to recall that night he sat in this very room, gawking into his computer at you as you were in an entirely different country, slinking around on a bed that he couldn’t join you in.
How many times had he replayed those images in his mind? The sound of the moans you made echoing in his head, torturously audible as he visualized you touching yourself, calling out his name.
How many times had he revisited that moment in his mind as he lay alone in his bed, his cock pressing against the fabric of his boxers, swelling and aching for you to the point he had to free himself of the strain, the pain of it swelling, begging desperately for release that he had no choice but to grant himself?
How many times did he need to stroke it hard to make it soft? To tame it as it’s stiff, angry head leaked when he thought of you, that sweetness that dripped from you like honey, your beautiful body. Your sensual voice. Your big pretty eyes.
You seemed so untouchable then. So far away. He wondered when, or if he’d ever get the chance to see you like this again.
And here you are.
He won't let you go again. You tried it.
And if you try again, he'll stop you.
He'll stop you every time.
… she’s mine.
He gripped your thighs, spreading them apart as you laid there, unconscious. His dick twitching at the sight, his bottom lip disappearing into his mouth.
I want… just a little taste…
Megumi slid his hands upward from the middle of your thighs to your ass. He squeezed, eyes filled with lust, observing how the stretch of your skin caused your entrance to spread open just a bit, your pretty folds blossoming like a flower. He leaned in squeezing a bit more, biting his lip, gawking at your tiny hole, wondering how he ever fit inside.
His breathing became heavier, his body tingling as a hard line formed between his eyebrows. He was growing more ravenous.
She's so fucking hot.
His eyes dart up toward you, checking to see if you’re awake.
He hissed, feeling his dick pulse, begging for entry. His brows wrinkling more as he gripped your thighs, pressing your legs open and his thumbs in, pushing outward, spreading you even wider.
He flicked out his tongue, pressing it between your folds, dipping it into your hole softly as to not startle you awake, rotating it in tiny circles as it inched further inside with each small circle, then closing his lips around it with soft kisses.
As you lay on your belly, he kissed your clit, then slid his tongue up to your entrance, pressing it deeper inside your heat, then trapping the fleshy layers between the tender part of his lips as he sucked.
He repeated each pass again, kissing your clit, licking up to your hole, plunging it inside, sucking your flesh. Again and again, opening you wider each time. Your taste driving him nearly mad.
He remembered how that night, the first time he touched his tongue to your lower lips, how sweet you were. He couldn’t wait to taste you again. He could devour you every day and never get tired.
He remembered how he damn near desperately wanted to submerge his entire body inside you and bathe in your nectar. His cock throbbed almost painfully at the thought.
Megumi moaned against your core, his pulse quickening, his thoughts growing foggy from your intoxicating scent as he licked you like candy.
He used his thumbs to widen you even more, bringing your opening more clearly into view. He was now rutting his tongue inside, thrusting, pushing harder, desperate to go in as deep as possible.
He flicked it against your gummy walls, blissed out on your flavor.
His dick jolted eagerly, calling out to you. He reached down, holding it in a tight grip, as if telling it to wait its turn while he lapped up your juices with his tongue.
You stirred from the commotion, feeling strange sensations in your sleep. Your body tingling, tremors starting and stopping in intervals.
“Mgh!..” … Is it a dream?
You thought
She’s gonna wake up
He thought
Ah … she’s fucking delicious. “Mmgh” N-Need to get inside...
“Mmmh!”... you moaned, stirring even more, half asleep.
Your eyes rolled around behind your lids, tiny moans escaping your lips as Megumi continued, keeping his screaming cock at bay as his mouth fucked and sucked on your sex.
He noticed your squirming, your hair tossing around as you writhed.
He kissed you one last time on your glistening pussy, then hovered his face up over it. He held you open with a semi-strong grip, he coated his tongue with saliva, opened his mouth and watched it fall, glazing your opening.
“Haaah fuck”
He leaned into you, his hard body over yours, his solid muscles flexing as he propped himself up with his arm, his hair falling over his fiery eyes as he looked down at your face, your eyes still closed.
He reached down, gripping his thick, hot, angry cock in his hand, pressing the tip into the wet mess he'd made.
He pressed in a little harder... his eyes fluttering, then flicking up toward your face as he waited for your reaction.
"Mmm… So tight…"
You moaned, and whimpered… a little louder than before.
He pressed in harder. Slowly…
You stirred more. Your eyebrows scrunched, “mmhh!”
what… “ahh”... what’s happening?
Harder still, halfway in, he let go of his throbbing cock, rock solid, and needing very little assistance going forward. He gripped your inner thigh, opening you up even more.
His darkened eyes watched you move around, his other arm gripping the sheets against the mattress next to your head for more leverage as he rocked his hips, thrusting his big dick further inside you, your gummy walls clenching around him.
Pressing deeper still... Megumi couldn’t contain his own whimper as he sank into your tight, hot, wet, cunt.
“mmmhh.... ~Megumi!”
Oh my god… He feels so good! “Ha-ah…”
He’s … so fucking big.
You could feel him shudder with every stroke, your voice riling him up even more, his steady rhythm wavering as he fought the urge to go over the edge, dying to cum inside you and fill you to the brim with his seed. He gripped your hips with a constraining hold so tight you’d think he was afraid you’d get away.
He’s so strong… that will... leave a mark...
He leaned in further, pressing his chest against your back, sucking hot pink blotches onto your neck and back as he continued to slide his length slowly in and out of your slick heat.
He’s… marking me… branding me.
Megumi propped himself up by his elbows as he grinded his hips slowly into you, savoring every inch of your passage that his length covered, his hands fisting into your hair after gently brushing it up off of your back and neck with his fingers.
His tongue feather-light as it glided along the line of your neck behind his wet kisses, sending shivers up your spine.
He groaned as his long shaft pumped slowly in and out, your bodies flush against each other, while he continued to color the skin on your nape with soft sucking motions, realizing you were fully awake by now.
“Can’t run from me anymore...” he hissed into your ear.
He was completely drunk on your pussy, steadily growing more feral. His body trembled, goosebumps pressing out against his skin as his dick dragged along the gummy walls of your tight heat.
More… fuck, I need more of her.
His hitched breaths wafted over your neck as he thrusted, his shaft disappearing even deeper into your core, reaching desperately for your sweet spot. “ha-ah wake up pretty girl.” his deep, raspy voice cooing directly into your ear, the warmth of his breath wafting down your neck, his jet-black hair tickling the side of your face.
“Ngh! … Me—gumi! You… you feel so good baby.” You whimpered into the pillow as your body trembled beneath him.
The feeling of him exploring you, his hands, his soft hair, his beautiful face, his deep dark blue eyes gazing over every part of your body in every secret place, his long, hot cock filling your insides, his deep sexy voice… every touch, look, or piece of attention you receive from him never failed to have you melting into slick hot puddles.
His words, and at the pace he was moving, felt so amazing, tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you relaxed, your combined vibrations gliding beautifully along the same wavelength.
“That’s my girl”. He purred, still holding you tightly in his grasp.
You lifted your waist up a bit from the pillows, granting him easier access to you as your face mushed back and forth, your lips parting as you gasped, eyes still closed, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.
Megumi responded, releasing your head, snaking his hand down curving it around your thigh toward the front, pausing his thrusts as he began massaging your clit with his middle fingers, the sharp sensations causing you to jerk his length even deeper inside you.
Your moans became even louder, your body entranced by the feeling of this man’s meticulous ministrations.
Megumi’s thick hardness throbbed deep inside your sweltering heat as it jerked and pulsed into you all on its own. The weight of his body held you still, forcing you to take everything he gave you.
Megumi pushed out a low grunt, then hissed softly into your ear. He pulled out slowly, just a bit, then pushed back in to the hilt. “Haah... fuck, you feel so good.”
You couldn’t help but moan his name. “M~Megumi!” as you held in your release.
“Who's pussy is this, love?”
“Megumi's.”
“Ngh…” he buried his face in your neck. “that’s right… Now, I need you to go ahead and cum on daddy’s dick.”
He pressed in one last time before lifting the weight of his torso off of you, pulling you by our waist from the pillows, spreading your thighs wider with his knees.
He tightened his grip on your hips as he flattened one of his hands against the small of your back, sliding it up to the middle, pressing it down.
You responded with a deep arch, feeling his length press inside you, impossibly deeper.
Your belly felt it’s absence as his heavy shaft pulled slightly out of you, then back in, over and over as he began to move faster, thrusting and squelching and pumping in and out of your soft hole.
His mind went dumb and his mouth gaped open as he rutted into your sex, sweat dripping, muscles spasming, blissed out as he ravished you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, beating and beating as your soft walls massaged his length.
Your chest and head pressed deeper into the mattress as Megumi’s hands firmly grasped your hips, drilling himself into your core.
His eyes rolled back with his head as his face turned toward the heavens, the euphoria of being inside you taking over his being. “Haaah…so wet … aaah! … you make … me … fucking… crazy” he beat harder, deeper, pounding relentlessly as he felt himself peak…
You whimpered as your arms stretched out wide, your hands tightly gripping the sheets around you, “Nghaaa! … I’m.. Ugh! I'm cumming baby! …” your entire body convulsed even as you climaxed, clutching him fiercely, the sound of skin on skin slapping, echoing throughout he room.
As Megumi felt you coat him, soaking his cock in your sweet cream, he doubled over, continued to fuck himself into your messy center, his tip kissing your cervix until every drop of his hot cum was milked from him, filling your hole to the brim.
You both rode out the high, moaning together, his chest rising and falling as it pressed into your back, his hot tongue making more long strokes across the back of your neck and shoulders.
Megumi had seared himself into your body.
And god, you loved how it burned.
*~*~*~*~*
Work was tedious, and as demanding as usual.
Mr. Geto took full advantage of your abilities, as well he should, since you had more than proven your worth at this gig. However, after that last work trip you took, it seemed to be much easier for you to work up the courage to ask for compensation whenever you were expected to stretch your self thinner.
“Would you be willing to go on another one?” Mr. Geto asked as he walked into the breakroom where you were filling your mug up with your 3rd cup of coffee.
“Another… What?” you asked, pouring in cream and sugar.
He closed his eyes and flashed you a huge fake smile, jokingly. “Another work trip of course.”
“Oof…” you said, raising your eyebrows as you nearly burned your mouth on the scorching hot coffee. “Maybe hire some more help?”
“I could do that… or you could get that bag” he quipped.
You chuckled, “Touché sir. Tch”.
“Hey, look, why should I train another group right away when I have one that’s more than capable right here.” He held out his hands, shrugging his shoulders.
“I get it, but the few of us can only do so much. Have you had any other employees train for this position?”
“I have, actually. We worked together for a while just before I transferred here. His name’s Sukuna. He’s a powerhouse. Great work ethic but kind of a hard ass. He’ll be coming by this office next week.”
“Well that’s a relief. Hopefully he’ll work well with our team.” You said, with a slightly concerned look in your eyes.
“I’m sure he will. I’ll keep you updated on the details. See you later.” Geto waved as he walked out of the breakroom back to his office.
You waved back, relieved that you’ll get a break from his overwhelming expectations, but hoped a brand new leader in your department wouldn’t cause any issues.
You decided not to worry too much about it, especially since you were able to trust Geto to take care of his team.
“Three hours left” you sighed, on your way to your desk. “I’ll be glad to get back home.”
*~*~*~*~*
You walked about two blocks from your work to the train station.
The air was crisp outside, as the temperature began to fall slightly below usual. You could feel the chill just underneath the breeze, welcoming Autumn, your favorite time of year where the leaves graced the ground in their fiery shades and tints of reds and yellows.
You stood at the edge of the platform as you watched your train approach. You took out your earbuds and popped them in, playing
Prototype – Andre 3000
Thoughts of Megumi began swirling around in your head. You never seemed to have to wait too long before your mind was filled with him. Your life, and everything in it seemed easier to manage now that he was a part of it. That was a warm feeling, but one you had strangely never known before.
The way he seems to lift the weight of the world from your shoulders was far too easy to become addicted to.
It was as if you had drifted off into an alternate universe. A universe where the people who made you happiest existed.
This wonderful, adventurous life, this one, is the one you had been looking for. The one you had been longing for.
After all, it was a life you were building for yourself. You had Nobara, Yuji, and now, you could say you had him. He had practically shown up out of nowhere. Unexpectedly, and spectacularly.
Your warm heart skipped a beat in your chest as you relaxed into your seat. You held your head down, the metal grinding against the tracks piercing through to your ears past your music, while flashes of Megumi's dark blues burning through your eyes sparked into your head.
Neurons fired in your brain, triggering a tingling sensation that spread throughout your body to your core as you blushed, recalling his touch, his intensity, and the way he just took you.
You periodically snuck quick glances up at the strangers’ faces on the train, hoping no one had noticed that deep blush on your cheeks as goosebumps peaked on your skin, and you pressed your knees together.
Everything Megumi was made him unbelievably desirable, especially to someone like you. Someone who desired to be taken.
You knew that this environment, this … atmosphere, between you and him, especially considering what has already happened, was like fertile ground. Fertile enough to cultivate whatever brooding emotions were lying dormant in your soul.
What better companion to share them, to nurture them with than him? Someone like-minded, who shared your interests, desires, and tastes... someone extremely compatible with you.
The train screeched to a halt, snapping you out of your daze as you smirked to yourself while rising from your seat. You jostled through the heard of people leaving the train, headed up the stairs, emerging out of the hole in the ground and started on your journey a couple blocks from the station back home.
Megumi had taken you home that morning, waited for you while you got ready for work, and had given you a ride there, considering how much energy he'd drained from you the night AND morning before.
“It’s the very least I can do” he said, with that cute smirk. He had come up for just a second without coming inside, to grab a copy of your track so he could listen in the car while you got ready.
You can still remember how you felt as he gazed at you, leaning his head on the back of his seat while he assured you he’d be there waiting for you when you’re done.
He was all over you now. In your life, in your head, and in your heart, and you welcomed him.
As amazing as it was, It still felt strange to think you were so much closer to being an item. And even more strange to know that your feelings for him had been turned up to a level you’d never experienced before.
With this knowledge, there was one thing for absolute certain. You needed to maintain a distraction to keep your anxious attachment at bay. This was yet another “thing” for you.
Thanks a lot dad.
Trusting yourself to keep a healthy distance was a tall order, unfortunately. Needless to say, your past relationships had more than reflected that. It wasn’t something new.
Of course, you were talented and pretty, so it wasn’t like you couldn’t have ended up with a guy at some point if you really wanted to. A guy isn’t the same as your guy though.
It’s this one. He is the one you want.
Unfortunately, it was that part that scared you the most. It often felt like the one you want always got away somehow. Your clingy nature had betrayed you more than once, and you refused to allow it to fuck you over again. You had worked out a way to fight this. Kinda.
You’d decided to take your time, to relish him, living in the moment, enjoying him for who he is right now, staying as grounded as possible. That’s as good as it gets for now. Nothing is set in stone, so it’s best to relax and just be mindful.
Megumi’s beauty, his inner beauty and outer beauty was as clear as crystal. Yet it was also quite obvious that thinking he was perfect was far from reasonable.
Life is life, and you’re only human. It was only a matter of moments, minutes, seconds, before you crashed headlong into one or more of those things that make him tick, those things that you have no idea are there until they show up. Inevitably present in either him, or you.
It was great and all to run into someone who seemed to be a perfect match, but you understood that you were just as deserving of greatness as he is, so you vowed to yourself to maintain your grip, but a loose one.
As you reached the door of your apartment, a vibration rattled inside your bag as you shuffled through all the junk in it to find your phone.
“Hey girl!” Nobara’s bright, cheerful voice was a refreshing welcome, blossoming through your heavy thoughts.
“Hey! What’s up girl?”
“Where you at?” she asked.
“Literally just making it home from work.” you opened your door to your quite messy place, things strewn about everywhere from this morning as you hurried, trying not to force Megumi to wait forever for you to get ready.
“It’s been a few days since we talked. How did everything go with Megumi that night? Are you guys, ok?”
You took a deep breath, plopping down on the sofa. “More than ok. He’s…” you looked up toward the ceiling, closing your eyes as you searched your mind for the right word to describe exactly what you were feeling about him. “…satisfying”.
Nobara’s smile slowly spread across her face. Genuinely happy to hear the contentment in your voice. “Wow.” She chuckled, “Glad to hear it honey.”
“Yeah. Thank you so much. For everything.” You said to her, loving the fullness and warmth in your heart.
“Of course. You know I love you. I’m here for you girl. I really am happy for you. You deserve this.”
Your smile seemed to spread even wider at her kind words. “The vibe is just so... nice. I really don’t wanna screw this up.”
“You won’t. I’m willing to bet that you can’t even if you tried.”
Your brow furrowed a bit as you processed what she said. “What do you mean by that?”
Nobara huffed, “Well, I don’t think that would be the case if you were someone else… Someone with low morals, or if you were a jerk or something. But you’re a sweet person.”
She continued, “What do you think I could do, as a real friend, that would cause you to never speak to me again?”
You squinted a bit, pondering. “Um… nothing really... outside of killing me. Which would suck.” You chuckled.
“Uh yeah! See?” She said. “If he’s yours, he’s yours.”
You giggled “so profound, professor!”
“Hey, I’m just saying.”
“Nah, I get you.” You smiled, “I suppose you’re right.”
“So… on another note, I wanted to let you know, someone texted me, asking where you were after you left me.”
“Who?”
“Your dad.” She replied with a snarky tone.
The heavy sigh you released seemed a little too loud. “What did he say?”
“He just asked where you were. Said you didn’t answer when he called. I assume he might've had something important to talk about since he called me. You might wanna ask.”
“Hmmm…” you frowned, “That’s weird. I didn’t see a call or text from him. Okay, I’ll reach out. Thanks for letting me know. How is Yuji doing?”
“Tch. As sweet as ever. I’ll be seeing him a little later. Probably you, too right?”
“Um… Yeah, sure?” You didn’t know what she meant by that, since you hadn’t planned anything but figured it was a general statement.
“OK cool. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay!”
“Byeeee!”
*~*~*~*~*
You hopped out of the shower feeling refreshed, having had a small meal since you weren’t that hungry. You decided to text your dad to see what he wanted, opting not to call. If you did, it was highly likely you’d end up listening to him talk for hours.
You: Hey dad. Nobara told me you were looking for me?
Dad: Oh hey daughter! I couldn’t get a hold of you at the time so I thought maybe you were with her.
You: Oh, ok. Whats up?
Dad: I have a show to do, I wondered if you had some free time to sing backup for me.
You: I’m not sure. Can you send me the details for the event?
Dad: Ok I will!
You: Ttyl!
You set the phone down on the couch next to you, slightly confused at the sudden request. It was really strange for him to ask this now, since it had been so long since you’d worked with him. The first thing you thought was that he must have had a contact fall through, or someone quit.
That was typical.
He wasn’t exactly kind to his singers. Not all of the time. Especially if he was comfortable with them or under stress. Whenever something was off, or if they got a note or understanding of something wrong, he could be pretty mean.
You figured it was a good chance for you to get your feet back into the water though. Of course Megumi is guilty of inspiring that in you. Maybe you should just warm up the old chords again.
Just then, your phone vibrated again. Speak of the hottie.
Megz: wya
You: Hey. Home. Whats up?
Megz: Come to rehearsal.
You: Really? What time?
Megz: About 6?
You: At the studio?
Megz: Yup.
You: K… See you there.
Wow. You could feel your entire body beam. A rehearsal?
So exciting. You wondered what he's like in his element, what he’d look and sound like bossing around his band mates, and now you get to see what could be an entirely different side of him.
This is his work. His livelihood. And he’s sharing it with you. Just as before, you felt like he was opening up his world to you. Inviting you to be a part of it with no hesitation. It was nice.
But what about Maki and the guys? You wondered if they’d be just as comfortable with you all up in their space like that.
Not to mention how ridiculously nervous you were about letting him hear your track. You’d talked about it before, briefly, but you were thinking since he’d played it in his car, he could just give you a quick, useful critique or something. But he hadn't mentioned it.
God forbid he plays it in front of anyone else.
Oh my god, I’ll die… he wouldn’t do that.
You couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy since, in your experience, studios are obviously the place where new music is heard, rehearsed and perfected.
He’d better not. Seriously, Megumi. Please don’t.
You mumbled to yourself as you plugged in an Uber ride and got ready to go.
*~*~*~*~*
You arrived at the studio around a quarter after, hoping you wouldn’t walk in on an important part of a song and interrupt something.
Your body was filled with curiosity and nervousness, especially considering the last time you were here, Megumi was fucking the life out of you. In his office no less. Your eyebrows wrinkled as a shudder went through you at the thought of it.
Embarrassment also crept through each of your nerves as you approached, the sound of their loud instruments and Choso’s voice vibrating in a muffled cadence against the windows and door as they played
The Pretender - Foo Fighters
Which would be performed at their next show.
You grabbed the handle pulling it open, and to your surprise, Yuji and Nobara were standing in the doorway to the control room from the foyer, hanging out as the band played behind the glass shield in the live room.
Your eyes brightened, your nerves relaxing a bit as you approached them with a smile and an excited gleam in your eyes. “Heeeey!”
“Told you I’d see you later.” Nobara beamed back at you as you sauntered over toward her and Itadori.
“I had no idea until Megz invited me! I’m so glad to see you guys!”
“Ah I see.” Nobara giggled. “Made it a surprise huh?”
Your smile lit up the room. “Hey Yuji!”
“Hey sweetheart. How’ve you been? You’re glowing like a new moon!” He replied.
“Oh my god… Am I?” You questioned with a frown, rolling your eyes, your hands swiftly moving to cover your face.
“Uh… yeah?” Nobara added, the contagion of your smile reaching her first. “It’s a good look on you.”
Itadori huffed, “Yeah, you look pretty happy”.
You nodded, your lips pressing into a thin line as you blushed toward the floor.
Itadori’s smile also widened as he observed you attempting to hide the heavy pink in your cheeks.
You elbowed him as you leaned in, pushing his arm playfully. “Gimme a break, guys.” You murmured.
Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulder, squeezing you close to him as he kissed you on your head. “I’m happy for you, babe.”
You caught a glimpse of Megumi watching you interact with your friends as you turned toward the glass window that allowed a clear view into the opposite room where the band played.
Your lips disappeared into your mouth as you made eye contact with him, and quickly averted your gaze as the pink filled your cheeks even deeper than they had a moment before.
As usual, Megumi’s eyes remained locked on to you, staring for what felt like far too long, smirking at your adorable shy face, granting you a quick upward nod before finally drawing his attention back to the guy next to him, who was apparently directing him.
Your heart thumped heavily in your chest. He made you feel like a love crazed schoolgirl. You continued to peek into the room where he sat at his kit as the guy you didn’t know talked to him, then turned to look at you, smiled, then turned his attention back to Megumi.
You were struck with curiosity and overwhelm as you observed the atmosphere, which felt was completely different compared to the last time you were there.
Obviously, more people and instruments were present, and the entire place, was lit up. Apparently Megumi had two kits here, one in the large main area of the studio, and one behind the glass where they recorded.
The band was back there with him going over their process, deciding which parts to replay. The director was apparently a guest producer that Megumi used as a neutral party to help him get everything recorded since he spent most of his time on that side of the window with the band.
Considering Megumi’s level of talent, and his high standards, the guy had to be just as excellent at his job, if not, better.
They all played their hearts out, as per usual, while you, Itadori, and Nobara sat quietly on the couch in the “control room”. The place looked beautifully professional. And … expensive.
You’d had plenty of experience working in different studios across the city, and understood many of the nuanced practices of performing, laying down, and mixing tracks in ones similar to this, but you could tell that Megumi and his family put a lot of time, energy, and money into this place.
You remembered what he’d mentioned before about bringing people here. You couldn’t imagine not monitoring and/or scrutinizing every soul that set foot into these rooms, let alone trusting them to begin with on the outset of inviting them here.
There were multiple mixing boards in the control room, computers, a couple guitars, and two keyboards. In the live room was several electric guitars, two acoustic electrics, two electric bass’ AND every band member was inside the “live room” holding an instrument.
There were multiple professional microphones including the ones in the isolation booths, as well as foot pedals, speakers, amps … you could go on. It was nuts.
There was money everywhere in here, and it was clear that every instrument was obviously used, yet close to pristine.
The room you sat in was comfy, which had a couple couches and a coffee table for guests, away from the music as to keep you from disrupting the recording.
It was amazing. You felt so special, being granted the opportunity to see this amazing band’s process, like being let in on exclusive content. It was only a matter of time, only a little time too, until they hit it big, and you could say you were here, at their beginning, witnessing even the hiccups and re-dos, and all the times they created something spectacular right on the spot.
The guy Megumi talked to was on his way out of an isolation booth, which was attached to the control room you were in. He was handsome, had a great vibe, and a warm smile. They seemed to get along really well. Megumi even smiled a lot more with him.
“Who is that guy?” you wondered, whispering to Yuji as you watched their interactions.
“That’s another one of Megumi’s good friends, Ino.” Yuji answered. “He also went to school with them, but graduated a year before Megumi left. He studied music production there and has a studio there also.”
“Wow.” You huffed, “No wonder”.
“No wonder what?” Yuji asked, hearing you thinking aloud.
“Oh, um, I was just thinking, ‘no wonder Megumi works with him’. He must really know his stuff.”
“Yeah for sure.” Itudori agreed. “You already know. Megz doesn’t play games when it comes to his work. Ino’s the same way.”
You couldn’t help but smile, watching him direct his attention to Maki and the others while twirling his sticks around between his fingers, as Ino now addressed the entire band.
He’s such a fucking badass.
… “God he’s hot.”…
Nobara’s eyes grew wide as she turned over to you, her mouth gaping open as she started to laugh.
“Oh, shit did I say that out loud?” you gasped as you covered your mouth with your hand, giggling.
“Girl, you are so funny!” She chuckled, rolling her eyes.
“My bad, I was just thinking and it slipped out!” You smirked. “He IS though… shit! I can't fucking contain myself!” you whispered, biting your lip.
Just then, Ino sauntered over to the mixing board interrupting your girl’s moment with the most serious, yet confident look on his face. “Hey there” he smiled, looking directly at you as he sat in the fancy swivel chair in front of the soundboard.
“Hey” you said, still giggling a little.
“I’m Ino.” He held his hand out to shake yours.
You shook his hand, gladly introducing yourself, excited to meet yet another extraordinary person, courtesy of Megumi.
“You’re coming out after this right?” he asked, turning toward the board as he tweaked a few knobs.
“Out?” Experiencing a little déjà vu, you asked, “out where?”
“Yeah,” Nobara agreed. “Time for another gathering” she expressed with a jump of her eyebrows. “Aaaand this time, I’m not wasted.”
“Yet.” Itadori interjected.
You let out a quick chuckle. “So where’s the meet-up this time?”
“Of course you don’t know.” Nobara added. “We’re going to Megumi’s”.
Your heart just about jumped out of your chest. All this time, you and Megumi had still not seen each other’s places.
Well, he saw the outside of yours that morning he walked you out of here and drove you home so that he could take you to work, but he didn’t come in. He said something about it being your personal space and he didn’t want to invade it until you were ready.
Damn charmer, right?
You’ll see his personal space now. Yet another one of his personal spaces. But with your friends… and his band… so… it wasn’t like… he was making it personal for you.
Your mouth hung open a bit as you processed the idea of being in Megumi’s home. Where he sleeps every night. Where he rests his head. I mean, you definitely didn’t want just anyone wandering around in your personal space, and knowing Megumi, he didn’t decide to invite just anyone over on a whim.
His selection is always curated. Just as it is for you. And it wouldn’t be a far fetched notion to presume he had instruments there, too.
You now understood how he felt about coming into your place. But this was … fun. Exciting.
You glanced over at the clear window into the next room where he sat, only to see him, yet again, staring over in your direction. It was as if he was waiting for your reaction to the invite.
Maki called him after a few moments, ripping his gaze from you. He looked over to see what he needed just as Ino was instructing them to finish the last song.
“Ok one more and then we’ll hear the new song.”
“New song? They’re doing another one?” you asked, curious.
“I dunno.” Nobara answered.
You were actually pretty excited to hear it, hoping it was one of the originals they've been doing. It was, the one you walked in on Megumi playing the last time you came here.
Lippincott - Animals As Leaders
They all laid it down perfectly, even Choso took part even though it was an instrumental, wrapping up that ridiculously complicated song.
“Okay, you’re up”. Ino said.
You looked at him, then looked around as if there ware another person near you that you didn’t realize was there.
“Excuse me? Are –” you looked over at Yuji then at Nobara, “are you talking to me?”
“Yup” Ino said with a little smirk.
“Up?” You squinted, “Up for – what exactly?”
“Why don’t you go talk to Megz for a sec?” he replied.
You looked over to Megumi as he simpered toward you.
You’ve got to be kidding me…
All you could think was ‘this sure as hell better not be what I think it is’. He wouldn’t do that, right? Reality hitting you as you got up to go talk to him.
What the hell were you feeling? You decided it was definitely fear, mixed with some other things… you looked over to Nobara for some understanding, mouthing the words “what the hell is going on?” confusion showing up all over your face.
Yeah, that’s what it was. The extra feeling was frustration. Maybe even anger. But you weren’t sure how to place it yet so you decided not to panic.
Though that was crazy, since you were walking into a live studio with a boatload of professional performers in the middle of a place you’ve only been in once to fuck the greatest man you’d ever known.
What the hell?
You creeped over toward the door, Megumi sitting at his kit behind a shield. Maki, Toge, Yuta and Choso were all in this room as well, chatting amongst themselves while you nervously approached Megumi, freaking out.
“What is going on?” you whispered to him, genuinely confused, but also scared as hell.
“Don’t be mad.” Megumi said as you approached him.
“What?” You replied, looking around feeling like you were the last person to know what was happening.
“I just… I let Inumaki hear your track, and he agreed to play it for you. I was hoping you’d sing it while we’re here.”
“What?! Are you kidding me?” your eyes were like a deer's in headlights.
“You can say no. I promise, its ok… I just … I was hoping you’d just let me master it for you.”
You hid your face in your hand, hoping the gesture would make you completely invisible. “Yeah. I’m gonna have to pass.”
“Please… let me take care of it for you?” His voice and expression was so sincere it almost pissed you off.
“Megumi…” you whispered, a little louder than necessary, but with a nervous smile. “Out of nowhere like this? You didn’t give me time to prepare or anything. I didn’t even know you were having rehearsal today until last minute!” You finished with a grimace as you turned your face toward him so only he could see it.
“Are you sure? I mean, Ino can just…”
“No Megumi.” you interrupted. “You said I can say no,” your eyebrows raised as you looked around the room, leaning further in to him, whispering, hoping no one could hear you. “… so I’m saying ‘no’. this feels too forced. I don’t like it.”
Megumi’s big dark blues looked down quickly at his sticks, then back up at you as they squinted slightly, a small grimace forming on his lips. “Okay.’
“Can we please talk about this later?” It was as if you could feel all of the eyes in the rooms on you and him.
“Of course.” He answered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You turned on your heels, and walked back to the other room, to your spot next to Nobara, your lips pressing into a straight line as you approached the couch, sitting down slowly and leaning in to her, extremely embarrassed by that interaction.
“Is everything ok?” Nobara asked, a troubled look on her face.
“I think so… I’m not sure.” You answered with a small frown, feeling as if the room was closing in on you.
Ino looked over to Megumi who actually, for the first time, appeared embarrassed himself. His face taking on the appearance of a child who had just been scolded. He maintained that look of serious thought as he stared down at his sticks for a moment, his brow furrowing a bit.
He glanced up at Toge, who appeared to be waiting for his queue from him. Megumi quickly, almost unnoticeably shook his head, then turned his attention to Ino, who apparently understood.
“Well, um… Okay then.” Ino continued. “Let’s listen to the last take of the first song again, see if you guys are ok with it, and I think we’re done.”
*~*~*~*~*
As you sat, processing what had just happened, you remembered you had to find out from your dad about his event.
Happy to have an excuse to escape from the tense environment, you excused yourself from the room to call. You noticed there was poor reception on the phone inside the studio. Only one bar displaying the closer you moved toward the front door.
It now made sense that your dad couldn’t reach you before, since you came here after meeting with Nobara that night when you missed his call.
You gave him a call, tapping the green button just as you reached the front door. It was fine though, as you had no desire to cause any interruptions in their performance.
“Hello, Daughter.” Your dad chimes in, sounding quite cheerful.”
“Hey. How’s it going?”
“Do you have time to chat?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks for calling. Our performance is this Saturday. I was hoping you could perform your song with us as well as background on songs you already know. We’re having a quick rehearsal with the band tomorrow night.”
“Saturday? And tomorrow? So soon...”
“Well, you might have guessed, someone quit on me.” He ended his statement with a loud hearty laugh.
“Oh. Uh… Well… I have a show that I’d already planned to go to this Saturday.”
“Our performance is early in the day. It’s for a wedding, so I can’t delay it or find anyone else soon enough to replace them.”
“Oh… well… okay. I think I can manage that, as long as it’s ok that I leave by 5.”
“Yeah! I’m doing the reception also that evening, but you don’t have to be there for that. Just the wedding, since they requested that one specifically.”
“Sounds good. Where is the rehearsal going to be tomorrow?”
“It’ll be at my house. And you may not need to stay for more than an hour or so.”
“Okay”
“Are you at a show now? I can hear music…”
“Well, I’m actually at a friend’s studio right now.”
“Really? What friend?”
“You don’t know him. I met him a few months ago. He’s a great a–”
“Hey I’m gonna have to go I’m sorry, I was supposed to be back thirty minutes ago. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”
Figures.
“That’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
As you gripped the phone in your hand, you lowered your arm to your side as it swung like a pendulum. You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath then closing them, turning your face up toward the ceiling.
Par for the course with him. The second you begin speaking about anything that doesn’t revolve around him, he’s completely uninterested, or has no time for it. It would be so nice if he’d care about or get involved in your life. Just a little.
You noticed the sound system on low as usual in this main room, the foyer of this studio as it played
Smile Like That – Esperanza Spalding
You suddenly hear the door open. Nobara walks over to you quietly, with an odd sense of urgency. She grabbed your hand, turning you toward the door.
“It’s time for you to come back inside” she said, as she let go of your hand while simultaneously turning the knob.
You entered the room, noticing Toge, Yuta, and Maki talking with Yuji, while Choso chatted at the soundboard next to Ino.
Megumi, however, still sat at his kit on the phone, smiling from ear to ear. You looked at him with a squint, tilting your head, then turned back to Nobara.
She looked back at you with a straight face, one of her eyebrows raised and whispered, “He said ‘what is it Nanako’, when he answered.” She crossed her arms, looking back through the window at him. “look, it might be nothing, but … I just thought you should be aware.”
He was sitting, slightly hunched at his kit, with one of the biggest smiles on his face that you’ve seen in a while.
What the hell is happening? Is he serious right now? What the fuck could be so funny if he’s talking to his ex?
You felt your stomach begin to turn. Along with the trajectory of this whole night apparently. You were beginning to feel a pretty ugly emotion take over. One that made you considerably uncomfortable.
You looked away from him, inexplicably disgusted for a second, down to the floor as you bit the inside of your jaw, and as your eyes made their way back up, they happened to land on Choso’s face.
“Hey singer!” he joked, as a huge smile spread across his lips.
You took a deep breath, licked your lips glanced back over at Megumi, then back down to the floor as you contemplated what your next move should be.
Choso glanced over at Megumi, then back at you, as his smile faded. He slowly stood up from his chair and walked over to you, “Hey. Everything ok?” he asked with a tiny wrinkle between his brows, His voice much kinder than you’d probably ever heard it since you met him.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you swallowed hard, taking another deep breath before answering, worried that the sound may not carry the way you needed it to.
“Uh… You know…” you looked up at Choso’s surprisingly concerned face as you smirked nervously. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll head home.”
“Do you need a ride?” He asked, a tiny frown on his face.
“Yeah, there are a couple cars here that can get you where you need to go.” Nobara offered.
“No, sweetie it’s fine. You stay with Yuji, k? I want you to have fun”. You turned to Choso. “Hey, are you having company? I don’t want to cause you trouble, too.”
“No, I’m not. And it’s nothing, don’t worry. Just let me know when you’re ready. Ok?”
You nodded a couple times, flashed him a smile, and he wandered back over to sit next to Ino.
You were pleasantly surprised at his behavior, especially his consideration toward you. It seems Yuji was right about him.
Megumi was apparently having an interesting conversation. He barely looked up from the phone. Whatever, or whoever it was damn sure had him pretty enamored.
You found yourself in the same place as in the beginning. A spot where you didn’t wanna make “it” your business. It was time to go.
You took a few slow steps over to the window where he sat and knocked twice. He looked up, his smile fading almost immediately as he caught the not-so-happy expression on your face.
You flashed him a quick peace sign. And turned around to leave, motioning to Choso that you were ready with a quick upward nod.
“Love you. I’ll call you tomorrow” Nobara said with disquieted eyes as she held out her arms to hug you goodbye.
“K.” you felt her warmth in the hug.
She squeezed you extra hard, “It’ll work itself out. Don’t worry, ok? Just trust yourself.” She whispered as Choso walked over to open the door to the main room for you.
You stepped through after waving goodbye to Itadori and the others.
Closer To Me – H.E.R.
was now playing on the system. Just as you and Choso made it to the middle of the main room, Megumi reached you. The door to the control room closing behind him.
“Hey! You’re leaving?” he asked, apparently genuinely confused.
“Yeah” you huffed softly. “I have to get up early and I uh, I have a commitment that I have to keep for tomorrow night, so…” you said as you nodded toward the door, avoiding his gaze.
Megumi glanced toward Choso, squinting as he addressed you. “I can take you if you really need to leave now.”
“Well,” you looked up at him square in the eyes. “you seem a little… preoccupied. I’d hate to be a distraction.”
Choso’s eyes dropped to the floor, then back up at Megumi, then you. “I’ll give you guys a minute.” He said, as he made his way back into the control room.
The vibe was so awkward. It was starting to annoy you.
Still, you didn’t know exactly what to say. Why would he be talking to his ex while you’re waiting for him? How could he do that while you were there, kekeing in your face with another chick?
It was … disrespectful to say the least. And flat out made you uncomfortable.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“You looked away, your lips disappearing into your mouth as you inhaled, then exhaled.”
“Please look at me.”
You turned your hesitant gaze toward him.
“If something’s on your mind, I really wish you’d say so.” He said, quite nonchalantly.
“I don’t like drama, Megumi.” It felt as if your breath was leaving your body faster than you could use it to form your words.
It was like anything you said to him would sound like a complaint. You didn’t wanna speak. Not because you didn’t have anything to say, but expending the energy to do so seemed like … too much. The thought of it was exhausting.
You stood there, arms crossed around the strap of your bag and your jacket, staring into his eyes.
He stood before you, frozen, his expression blank. His hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized grey sweatpants, the ankles at the hem almost swallowing his black and white converse, the waistline covered by the hem of his thick black hoodie.
He seemed to have all the time in the world as he waited patiently for you to say what was on your mind.
“Why … did you invite me here?” you asked, bluntly. You figured getting this over with quickly would be the least tiring route.
“Because I wanted you here.”
“To see you flirting on the phone?”
“I wasn’t flirting.”
You rolled your eyes, pausing for a moment, taking another deep breath. “Look. I’m not your boss.”
“Yes, you are.”
“What?” you huffed.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need a ride home.”
“I’ll take you. What else?”
“I need you to not embarrass me in front of your friends, by forcing me to do something important without discussing it with me.”
“Done. He frowned. And I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Nanako.”
“Why?”
“She called, asking about Ino, and whether he would be staying here overnight.”
“Is that what was so funny?”
“Were you upset that I was laughing?”
“At her? Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because if you’re mine, you’re mine.”
You could see Megumi forcing back a smile, as he blushed ever so slightly down toward the floor.
“…it won’t happen again.” he smirked, looking back up at you.
“Are you going to answer my question?” you asked, pointedly.
“Of course. Her sister jumped on the line in an attempt to convince me to not be too hard on her, while also mocking her. I thought it was funny. I wasn’t talking to Nanako at that point.”
“Fine. But if she wants to talk to Ino, what is she calling you for?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. I’ll address that, too.”
You looked away.
Megumi’s eyes grew smaller as he gazed at your pouty face, his bottom lip disappearing into his mouth.
“Come home with me.” He asked, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Maybe another time.”
“Please?”
“No.”
His tangible gaze never left your face as he smirked. “Okay. I’ll take you to your place … for now.”
You cut your eyes at him slightly. “Thank you.”
*~*~*~*~*
The ride home was pretty quiet. The deep blue console of his quite beautiful sleek black ride lit up your faces in the night as
Coco Jones – Double Back
played on his system. You worked hard to keep your eyes on the road, or at least on the dark features of the different people of all shapes and sizes whooshing by, along with the nightlife lights, casting various shadows as you stared out the window. The cool evening breeze glided across your skin, gently tousling your hair.
As you stole glances over at Megumi, you couldn’t help but notice how amazing he looked just driving. His long legs stretching out from under the steering wheel, his thighs resting far apart, surely providing “him” some breathing room for that beautiful bulge peeking out from under his thick grey sweatpants.
His full, long, veiny hands rested on the steering wheel as he drove you safely where you needed to go. As you approached a stop light, your eyes traveled up from his legs, to his hands, up his arms, to his face, only to find him staring back at you. As he propped his elbow up on the window, turned toward you, his body mimicked the same position he had that first night backstage after his show, when he sat next to you on the couch.
Your gaze lingered a couple seconds longer than necessary, as you pressed your knees together, rubbing the side of your neck as you turned to look out the window.
It’s so hard with him. It felt nearly impossible to rip your mind away from him. But you had to get back. Tonight was … different. And you needed some space for now.
As disappointing it was to realize, apparently Nanako is still a factor somehow, and you were going to find out exactly how much of a factor she is. Lingering exes is a “no” for you. Megumi pulled up to your door, parked the car, and got out.
What is he doing?
You were surprised to find that he was making his way over to open your door for you.
“Thank you” you said, as you stepped out onto the pavement, the cool air hitting you a little harder than expected. You hadn’t realized how hot your body was becoming, sitting next to him in the car.
He closed the door as you stepped out, looking down at you, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Will you be at the show on Saturday night?”
“Mhm. I’ll see you there.”
“Okay. Goodnight”.
“Goodnight Megumi.”
His eyes followed your figure as you walked up to your apartment door. You fumbled for your keys for a moment, finally finding them and unlocking it.
You turned to see Megumi leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to get safely into your house before he got back in and pulled away.
*~*~*~*~*
You rolled around on your bed, having kicked off your thick blankets. Your mind reeling.
Ugh, what is my problem?
You turned over toward your bedside table, the small light brightly illuminated on your clock, which displayed four am.
You remembered that your bestie spent last night at Megumi’s. You wondered if she and Itadori had stayed over. Your mind wandered to what Megumi was doing, and if Nanako had called him again.
It was so irritating to not be able to keep him off of your mind. You turned to lay on your back, your eyes fixed onto the ceiling, your fan whirring slowly above you. You tossed your arm over your eyes as your Bluetooth played
I’m Not OK – H.E.R.
quietly. You sat up and slid your bunny slippers on in one quick motion to grab some water from the kitchen. Suddenly the room felt extra cold for some reason. Your hand gripped the edge of the counter, the cold sending a chill up your spine. You gulped down your water, placed your glass in the sink, and headed back to the bed. You lay there, sprawled out, facing the ceiling.
As your lids lowered back over your eyes, Megumi’s face flashed into your memory. His eyes gazing intently at you as you confronted him about his behavior. How can he be so beautiful while pissing you off? He’s always so goddamned chill.
You recalled his body as he drove you here in his sleek black car. The way he stared back at you, the feelings that rushed through you as you made eye contact.
Your hands made their way down between your inner thighs. You realized your body was hot. Your thoughts, full of him. Your hand continued to rub the inside of your legs, sliding up toward your clothed center. You slid your fingers up and down your slit, grazing across, slightly teasing your clit. You flinched, as a visual of Megumi’s long fingers and his sexy smirk crossed your mind.
Your eyes fluttered shut, your brow furrowing as you squeezed your legs closed over your hand, trapping it between your thighs.
Ugh… stop it.
You said to yourself, Go to sleep. Please.
You hand reached up to grab the side of your neck, as you thought of how thick his bulge looked under his pants. You recalled the feeling of his long fingers wrapped around your neck. Chills covered your body, your hand gliding down toward your chest as you gripped your breast, a moan escaping your lips before you bit it.
Your other hand reached up to grab the other breast, as your fingers pinched the hardened buds. An image of him looking up at you from between your legs flashed into your head. Your body trembled as your breathing hitched, your thighs rubbing together as your core clenched.
No, girl.
You moaned as your clit seemed to get more sensitive by the second, your thighs pressing against it making you flinch.
Not now. Just go to sleep already!
You peeled your hands away, curling up into the fetal position, locking your hands under your cheek. You let out a big sigh, you asked yourself why you were so uneasy. Yes, you wanted Megumi. You always wanted him.
But you didn't need to be so … anxious though. Why are you like this? You really only had one answer.
Your family had worked so much of that shit into you, it was really hard to break away from. And you could only do so much on your own. The fastest way you could think of to get past it is to dive in and face it all head on.
What you really didn’t want, is to hurt anyone in the process of you figuring things out. You cared so much about your friends that you truly didn’t want them caught in the crossfire. But what could you do?
They had already scolded you before for backtracking. “Trust yourself” that’s what Nobara said. But how, when you feel you’ve betrayed your own best interest so many times?
It was so scary thinking you’d have to sing in that environment, directly in front of such professionals when you really hadn’t even rehearsed, and wasn’t even told about it. You weren’t even sure you wanted to sing that one if at all. It really was that part that bothered you the most. Not so much Megumi asking you to do it, but how you felt doing it at all.
Did I overreact?
Maybe, but… it’s easy to apologize. And Megumi seems to be a reasonable guy. He still should have told you first, though. Your brain was turning thoughts of these things over and over in your head.
You picked up your phone, thinking you should text something to him, only to find that he had texted you at two thirty-seven a.m.
Megumi: I really am sorry for upsetting you. Forgive me.
You sigh to yourself in an attempt to calm the obvious fire in your damn loins, rolling your eyes and shaking your head to yourself as you drift back into sleep.
*~*~*~*~*
“So, how was everything last night?” You asked.
“It was amazing, actually.” Nobara replied, chomping on her snack she was having in the middle of her lunch break at work. “Well, Dori and I had a great time. Megumi is super hospitable. Had food there for us and everything. It was nice… sorry.”
You giggled “Why are you apologizing?”
She whined “I’m sorry about what happened! I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I admit, I felt some kinda way about him being on the phone with Nanako too, but it wasn’t my place to stir anything up.”
You smiled, “Its ok. Thank you for saying that, but it was my responsibility to stay cool. You know you’re my girl, and I love you. I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“Yeah, but … you know me!” She continued, “I got ahead of myself. I had to apologize to Megumi, too by the way. I felt so bad for getting up in your business.”
“Yes, I do know you, and that’s exactly why its ok. Really.”
“He said that, too.” She huffed. “Are you on your way to your dads?”
“Yeah. It won’t take long. I already know the songs we’re doing, and there aren’t many. I have to sing one solo. I practiced a bit before work. Been drinking warm water all day and doing warmups.”
“Mmm. … Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, whats up?”
“Why didn’t you wanna sing last night? Megumi told me.”
You paused for a minute while considering it. “Scared.” You huffed. “That’s basically it. Plain old fear.” You uttered as you rolled your eyes. “Part of me was annoyed and upset at Megumi for putting me on the spot like that, but mostly it was just me freaking out. I didn’t wanna screw up too bad in front of everyone.”
“Why so worried, though? You’ve done this like a million times.”
“I know. I just… I think I’m also like, putting him on a pedestal. It sucks. I’m fucking irritating myself.”
Nobara giggled, “I totally get it. I felt like that around Yuji when I first met him. I ran from the bar every time I ordered from him, freaking out about how hot he is like some teenager.”
You chuckled, “He’s is super adorable. Can’t blame you for that.”
“You just need an icebreaker or something to help you get over it. Even though you guys have already slept together…”
“Yeah, I know. They’re just so good at what they do. I’d want to make the best impression.”
“I have an idea.” Nobara chuckled to herself, “sorry, I just said I didn’t wanna stir anything up and here I go again!”
“What? tell me.”
"Why don’t you ask him to come to the wedding?”
You pondered the idea for a second. And of course it made you nervous. “You think I should?”
“Well, you’ll already be singing, mostly in your comfort zone with your dad’s band, and if he comes, it’ll just be him and not his whole group.”
“Hmmm,” you giggled. “Really?”
“Do it. Seems like a chance for you to break the ice a bit more and relax around him. Especially while you’re essentially in the middle of doing something you love.”
“Yeah. It definitely still makes me nervous. But its worth a try for sure.” You smirked for just a second as you thought about something. “Not you and Itadori being my relationship coaches lately…”
“Girl, look!” Nobara chuckled, “Whatever works, ok? I’m here for you, and I’m sure he is, too! Go for it. We’re rooting for you guys.”
“Thank you, love. I really appreciate you guys, too.” You replied.
“I’m gonna get back to work.” Nobara grunted. “Weekend’s almost here! I’ll see you Saturday night?”
“Yup!”
“Talk to you later.”
“K!”
*~*~*~*~*
You arrived at your dads home, and as you approached the door, you could hear music thrumming from inside. You walked right in, since he usually kept the door unlocked for artists as they arrived. It was likely a knock wouldn’t be heard over the music.
Upon entry, you waved at everyone, saying hello as you looked around for a place to sit. His full 5 piece band was present, and 3 backup singers, only one of which you knew.
“Hey! How are you?” your dad asked, as he saw you come in.
The drummer, bass and guitar players were rehearsing a specific part. You found a seat, and waited patiently for them to finish as you spoke to the singer you knew.
You’d forgotten how much you loved the smell of instruments collected in a space, and the feeling of accomplishment you got, from even arriving at a rehearsal.
Being part of a group that has a similar goal, knowing you had a performance to do, and that people would be waiting to see you was always a satisfying thrill to you.
You wondered why you didn’t feel this right away when you arrived at Megumi’s studio. It’s almost as if you forget yourself when you’re around him. He’d drawn you in so much, that you forgot to relax.
The rehearsal went smoothly for the most part, you laughed and joked around with the girls, even at some of the jokes that were made by some of the band members at your dad’s expense.
Then it was time for him to teach the girls a part for one of the songs. You knew your dad had a tendency to forget things sometimes as he played. It might have simply been his old age, but he’d often play something, ask the group to execute it, change it, then get angry when it was done the original way.
It happened on several occasions, and each time, he’d take his frustration out on the musicians. Yet another reason you didn’t care much to work with him.
He taught the part he wanted you all to learn, played in C, but then changed it to C#. They didn’t quite understand how to execute it and kept singing it in C when the chord progression changed.
It was a common mistake for many singers to make, especially when one of them was consistently louder than the others, and inadvertently caused confusion.
However, the way your dad handled it was less than desirable. “Whats goin’ on here?” he asked with a frown, pacing back and forth in front of the group. “How are you not getting this?”
The girl you knew, Joy, answered, “I feel like we get it, we just have a habit of singing it a certain way and need a minute to learn the new way.”
“Yeah, but” your dad continued, “Y'all sang it once correctly but you keep reverting back to the original key! Its not that hard.” He turned to you, and asked you to do it as he sat at his keyboard.
He played the progression, and you sang it in C#. He still managed to get upset. “Why are you singing it like that?”
“What?” you looked at him in confusion. “That’s the way you just told us to do it.”
He stood there for a moment, cutting his eyes at you. “No – are you kidding me?! Y'all ain't gon’ make a fool out of me on MY stage. People are coming to see me, not y’all messing up.”
Joy looked at you, as she was the only other person singing it correctly, and all you could do was nod to her in agreement and roll your eyes at the way he was treating you all. The tension in the air was thick, and exhausting.
The entire band could see how erroneous his behavior was, and you were honestly glad that you weren’t the only one to witness it this time. When it was time to go, you were more than happy to leave.
*~*~*~*~*
Thinkin Bout You - Frank Ocean
played as you sat on your bed, exhausted after having your shower, ready to go to sleep. You thought about Megumi. He’d danced around in your head the entire time you were at the rehearsal. The difference between his methods of teaching and your dad’s were like night and day.
You decided to call him this time.
“Hello?”
The sound of his voice was like music to your ears. It was like your heart lit up, and illuminated your entire body. “Hey. You busy?”
“Hey there.” He sounded happy to hear from you. “not for you. How are you?”
“I’m actually pretty exhausted to be honest.” You said with a sigh.
“Oh yeah? Your hot date not go well?”
“What?”
He chuckled softly. “You said you had a commitment to keep tonight, right?”
“Oh, yes. But it definitely wasn’t that.” You retorted with a huff.
“That’s good to know. So, what happened?”
“I just had a rehearsal with my father.”
“Oh wow… How did that go?”
“It was … a lot” you sighed again. I’m glad to be home. And so happy to hear your voice.”
“Hmmm… well, I’m sorry to hear you had a hard time. But I’m glad to hear yours too.”
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“Would you be willing to come to a wedding tomorrow?”
“Wow. This is so sudden. But my answer is still ‘yes’”
You laughed at his joke. “Not mine, silly. I have to sing a solo there, and I wanted to ask you if you’d like to come”.
He paused, for what felt like a full minute. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” You smiled. “I’d actually love for you to come if you can. I know you have your show tomo –”
“I’d love to come. Thank you for inviting me. Sounds exciting.”
“Exciting? It’s a stuffy wedding.”
“Yeah, but I get to hear you sing. LIVE. I can’t wait.”
You blushed so hard you could swear he’d see it over the phone. “It starts at 11am.”
“Can I drive you?”
“You’d do that?”
“You have no idea what I’d do for you.”
“Okay. It’s a date.” You sat in silence for a moment, feeling his presence over the phone. “And then I get to see you perform.”
“Yes. So we’ll be together all day?” He asked, excitedly.
“Is that what you want?”
“That’s what I want.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” You agreed. “I also, would like to apologize.”
“For what?”
“I feel like I… overreacted a little last night. I still wanted you to talk to me first, but I got scared and freaked out. I’m sorry for that.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I should have asked first.”
“I also… miss you” you felt your heart skip a beat at your own admission. You both sat with the phone between you, listening to the silence on the other end as you relaxed in that moment. You were happy to have let him know how you truly feel.
Megumi took a deep breath over the phone, intentionally, it seemed, as if he wanted you to hear it. … “I miss you, too.” He replied, softly.
“Come and get me at ten, okay?”
“Sharp.”
*~*~*~*~*
You were ready by nine thirty.
Finally, your weekend was here.
You were so tempted to have a mimosa with your one waffle and one egg you ate for breakfast. God forbid you ate too much, ridding yourself of space in your belly for “air” you’d need while singing, and you didn’t want to hurl from freaking out.
You had some “Throat Coat” tea, warm but not hot, and sipped plenty of water. Hopefully not too much, since you’d end spending more time in the bathroom than you would at the microphone.
The butterflies fluttered in your belly, relentlessly tickling your insides, keeping you from settling down.
Megumi would be there any minute, and you couldn’t be more nervous. So much happening at once, a performance, a solo, one you had to do with your dad no less, it had been a while for you, and you were doing this in front of your new guy, someone you respected as a talented artist.
If you were honest, what you felt was a blend of excitement and pure nerves. It was practically like an official date, and you really missed hanging out with him, but it was all so overwhelming.
Your dress was simple, sleek and form fitting, a bodycon, black, asymmetrical neckline, while your hair was pulled back in a beautiful messy braid, the tail of it traveling down toward the middle of your back. You had all of your earrings in, four up one ear and five up the other, with a chain linking from your helix to your lobe.
Then, finally, a knock at the door.
You clicked over to it in your black 4.5” open toe stiletto’s, stood there for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened it.
You stood there, holding your breath for a minute, as a hard line formed between Megumi’s brows as he took in the sight of you.
You released your breath, a smile spreading across your face. “Hey.”
“Wow.” He stood in the doorway, gazing, his eyes traveling up and down your form as his lips parted.
As you motioned for him to come in, he covered his mouth with his hand. And turned his head to the right, grabbing his lips. He stuffed both of his hands in his pockets as he hung his head low.
You closed the door as he walked in, flattening out any wrinkles in your dress with your hands.
With his head in that position, he licked his lips and looked up at you with a smirk. “You look absolutely ravishing”.
His smile was breathtaking.
He was wearing a slightly oversized black v-neck cashmere sweater, the fabric settling beautifully on the curves of his chest, relaxed at the hem, scrunched up in the middle of his forearms. His pants were a slim fit, black, and tapered at the ankle, not his usual baggy attire, but still his style, and fit him beautifully.
His Doc. Martens were perfectly black, as was his hair, sleek and still spikey, but styled a little differently, concentrated to the left, shorter spiked strands reaching for his face on the right side, contrasting against his slightly pale skin and beautiful dark blue eyes. He looked as hot as he did the very first time you saw him. Only a little more … shiny.
“And you look… like…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked him up and down.
Megumi walked over to you slowly, his chest stopping less than an inch from your face. He looked down into your eyes. “What do I look like?”
“Like, uh…” you shook your head, at a loss for words.
His hands reached up to your neck, his fingers snaking around to your nape, his thumb pressing your chin up. His lips hovered close enough to steal breath from between yours. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. The sensation piercing straight to your core.
It felt like it had been an eternity since you’d kissed him. It was as if you could finally breathe again.
His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently and sensually against you, landing several kisses before parting yours slightly, his tongue requesting entry. You were more than happy to invite him inside. He slipped his tongue in, sliding it across yours.
The taste of his kiss was like receiving drops of cool water after nearly dying of thirst. Every stroke of his tongue left you wanting more, you opened your mouth wider, tilting your head back, melting into his arms as he pressed forward granting your wish.
His hand remained around your neck, as you always loved it to be, as his other hand curved around your waist, pulling you even closer. Feeling his body against yours made you weak, his stiff member pressing against the curves of your belly.
You wanted nothing more in this moment than to open up to him completely as his strong arms maintained their firm hold your body.
But he broke the kiss, trailing them along your jaw as his lips reached your earlobe where he planted a single kiss. His arm wrapped around you tighter, as his hand gripped you at your waist, fingers digging in, tickling your side. “We’d better go… before I lose control and devour you right here”.
Your heart skipped a beat, electricity surging through your veins as he spoke. What this man does to your body is sometimes inexplicable. But he was right. It’s time to go, or you’ll become extremely irresponsible in this moment.
You let out a heavy sigh, lifting your head up as he held you, looking into his eyes with a sultry gaze, suddenly feeling a surge of confidence. “Then let’s go, baby.” You whispered. Then leaned over to the couch, grabbing your bag and jacket.
*~*~*~*~*
The building was filled to capacity, the low hum of individual conversations floating throughout the beautiful, bright space. The wedding was being held in a large church, majestic and pretty, decorated with the couple’s chosen themed colors, florals and fabrics.
Love You Like I Do – Vancouver Sleep Clinic
played in the background.
The platform you were positioned on was set up high in the back of the building. The band was on the right side of the platform. Your dad at the grand piano to the left of you, the band to the left of him while the other singers were slightly behind you to the right.
Megumi was in the audience, surprisingly close to the front, having taken the seat of someone who conveniently didn’t show up. An enormous grin plastered across his face the entire time as he sat wide-eyed, watching your every move.
Every few minutes or so, you’d see him chatting with the elderly woman sitting next to him, her smile clear evidence of his charming nature. He’d look up periodically, lock eyes with you, smirk, and flash his teeth. You’d chuckle each time, rolling your eyes.
Nobara was right. You could feel some of the disconcerting tension melting away the longer he spent in your presence.
Suddenly you hear your dad, snapping at one of the helpers for not getting him a water when he’d asked. Your smile slowly fading as you saw the frustration on the face of the person he’d yelled at.
“Y/N! Can you get me one of the waters I asked for? PLEASE!” he practically screamed across the stage.
Your eyes flicked over to Megumi, who was watching you intently, his eyebrows wrinkled, and a squint in his eyes.
You looked down toward the floor in embarrassment as you got up from your seat, walking off of the stage to help them grab the waters. “I’m sorry about this” you whispered to the helper, resting your hand on their shoulder.
“Don’t apologize to them! That’s their job! They should have this stuff ready for me!” your dad yelled down from the stage.
The helper looked at you, “We had to wait until they brought them back from the grocery store. There was someone assigned to bring them, and they forgot. I’m sorry” he uttered.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. We have them now. It’s not a big deal. Thank you so much for providing them for us.” You whispered to him. You took a deep breath, and the waters, and walked them back up to the stage, passing them out to each of the band members, your dad snatching one from your hand.
You sat back down in your stool, waiting for the announcement of the bride. I just wanna get this over with. Is all you could think, as you squeezed your hands together, and slowly breathed in and out, working to relax your mind again.
You glanced out toward Megumi. He was now sitting back against his seat, arms crossed, his eyes locked on you. A frown in his forehead and his lips scrunched up in the corner of his mouth.
Your lids fell over your eyes a bit as you observed his obvious concern. You mouthed the words “Don't worry. It's okay.” a smile tugging at your lips.
Finally, the announcer said, “May I ask everyone to please stand for the bride?”
Butterflies tickled your belly as you stood, locking eyes with Megumi again as you approached the microphone, your smile now spreading wider. It was a beautiful thing; his presence alone, knowing he was there for you, made this experience exponentially more tolerable.
Everyone turned toward the front of the church as the doors opened for the beautiful bride, Megumi being one of the only people still facing the stage, his dark blues glued to your face. Your father played the intro, you took a breath, closed your eyes, and began singing:
Fall In – Esperanza Spalding
After singing your first line, your eyes opened slowly to the very spot Megumi stood. You maintained fierce eye contact with him as his widened. Your beautiful notes filled the room, echoing off of the walls, rounding out the sounds of the notes flowing from the piano.
Megumi's face dropped toward the floor, looking back up toward you with a beautiful blush as you continued to sing to him.
Your hands reached up toward the handle of the microphone, sliding up and down the stand as you became more engulfed in the song, your chest rising and falling with your breaths. Your eyes never left his, even for a second as you sang from the depths of your heart.
As the bride made her way to her beloved, Megumi's blue eyes came more clearly into view as he stood frozen in place, his gaze growing more intense. You leaned into this moment, enjoying the effect you and your beautiful song had on him.
You felt completely in sync with him again. Your connection had always been empowering, with him always being an inspiration. But today, the feelings rooted in your heart for him seemed to dig themselves deeper, spreading out further, finding new places to settle in it’s recesses.
The intense desire to be even closer to him grew stronger. You needed more moments like this. To know him more. And to show him more of you. To open up areas of your heart for him to see that you typically wouldn’t show a soul. No matter how scary, no matter how secret.
Megumi was unable to take his eyes off you.
Likewise, you were unable to take yours off him.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
And tonight, your body will surely follow suit.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
<< Set 3 | Set 5 >>
Set 5 Preview: ... You took a deep breath and a long pause, your eyes wandering a moment, then surveying his features coolly. “Then, you’ll have to commit, too.”
He huffed, rubbing the back of his hand down your cheek, his long fingers sliding around toward the back of your neck, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin of your bottom lip as he met your gaze.
“Hmph, that’s the easy part. And … I’ll have you in my studio every night.” He purred, lifting your head as he leaned in, rubbing his lips up your neck, then laying a soft kiss on your lobe.
“Such a hard worker you are.” you moaned, his body weight and his touch, stealing your breath.
Megumi huffed, “You have no idea.” ...
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Fanart Art: Courtesy of @Pinterest/@Berserker049 Ombre Caution/DNI & Animated lines: Courtesy of @CafeKitsune
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discordantwritings · 9 months ago
Text
The Sand Dragon and I Pt. 1 (Dragon! Sir Crocodile x Reader)
Part 1 / Part 2
Warnings: this chapter is SFW but the next one won’t be so still MDNI 18+, gn afab! Reader, Dragon Shifter! Sir Crocodile, the power dynamics are whack in this one not gonna lie, canon typical violence, Crocodile calls you pet
WC: 4.6k
Summary: You’re set to be sacrificed to the fearsome Dragon of the Sands as a tribute for your town. When you get down to the caves and get face to face with him however- you make a different choice.
Notes: this fic is for me ngl this is just me fully shoving my monsterfucking dragon loving desires onto sir crocodile and I hope other people like it
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You knew long before your name was called that you were going to be the tribute to the sand dragon. No living family, you worked a non-essential job, healthy enough to make the journey to his cave- you checked all the sacrificial boxes. No one else seemed surprised either, very few people made the effort to even look sad for you. It was something that you were used to since you never made the effort to connect with anyone in your town.
You were independent- a symptom of your parents dying young and you having no family to take you in. No one else made the effort to help you, so you made no effort to help them whenever situations came up. You didn’t hate anyone, and no one hated you, but there was a large gap that you accepted a long time ago.
So when it was time to select a human tribute for the terrifying sand dragon that made his home in the caverns miles from your town- a ritual that happened once every 5 years to appease him on top of the annual gold tribute- everyone knew it was you. You had your bags packed at home already- not that you needed to pack much. The journey would take a day on horseback and as you strapped your bags to the horse’s saddle you couldn’t help but feel bad for her.
A sacrifice to be eaten, just like you.
A few people saw you off, mostly to be polite. A small token of appreciation to the person who was going to die so they could live worry free for another few years. It meant nothing to you.
The journey was painfully uneventful. Miles of sand dusting over craggy rocks with no other life in sight. You had hoped for something- anything- to keep your thoughts away from your impending doom but you never got that reprieve. So you stirred, and thought, and stewed until resentment and anger came bubbling up.
Why did you have to die? Just because your life sucked already? Because there was no one to stick up for you? Years of being alone suddenly tore through you- sadness hardening over into anger.
And then something else.
You don’t know what it is yet but it drives you to continue your journey until you reach the giant cavern opening jutting out of the dunes and rocks. You leave the horse at the entrance just underneath the lip of the cavern for some shade. Giving her your remaining water you leave her untied, hoping she’ll have a better chance than you.
It’s a long and dark journey down into the caverns below the desert, a single torch lighting your way. At first it was just rocks and sand lining the path down but soon it turned to bones and dented armor. You don’t look down for too long, knowing you’ll lose your nerve if you have to look at the discarded bodies knowing your skeleton might soon reside with them.
It takes you an hour, maybe, time is hard to gauge down here, to get to the first opening. Your torch lights only a fraction of the vast cavern but you quickly find you don’t need it- golden braziers line the stone walls and flicker with fire illuminating the space.
Initially you wonder if you were somehow transported somewhere else- because a place this nice existing in a deep underground cavern was vexing. The stone floor was covered in the most luxurious rugs you’ve ever seen. Deep reds, golds, and blacks overlap and you fight the urge to run your hands over the fabric. Mismatched furniture liters the space- all expensive in their own rights but seemingly misplaced as none of them are quite set up in a logical formation. A pleasant humidity hangs in the air and you look and see a small natural fountain in one of the far corners of the cave. On the opposite side of that there’s another tunnel that seems to continue down further into the earth.
What use does a dragon have for a living room?
“Seems like a little morsel has arrived at my doorstep.” A low voice echoes off the dark stone walls and practically shakes the ground you’re standing on. It’s hard to deny the deep instinct to run away- all of the cells in your body signal to you that this is a predator and you are prey.
From the far tunnel you hear the distinct sound of claws against stone and you know he’s coming. You hold your breath as a giant crocodile-esque head slides into view. If it wasn’t for the sheer size of this creature you think you could mistake him for a crocodile- the long flat snout and smooth scales resembling a mosaic across dark green skin. But the way the scales shine like emeralds flecked with gold set him apart. As his legs come into view your eyes are drawn to his front left leg. In contrast to the dark green of the rest of his body his front left leg from the elbow down was a bright shimmering gold. It almost seemed liquid the way it connected with his body but the way it landed with a hard thud with each step solidified its hardness. A deep gash ran across his snout, dull and long healed over. Bat like wings folded against his long body as he finally made the last few strides into the cavern with you.
It’s hard not to be in awe of a creature so terrifying yet stunning- fear overloading and loosing all meaning and giving way to appreciation. Colorless eyes lock in on you and his pupils contract into slivers. You truly and deeply feel like prey under his gaze.
“Your heart is beating so fast little tribute. Will you run? Will you fight? Or are you just going to stand there and let me eat you? I do love seeing how your little human brains scramble…” His maw opens and you see large, shining teeth- each probably as big as you. You’re not sure if a dragon can smile but you get the impression from his voice that he is, there must be something deeply amusing to him to see you falter under his gaze.
You don’t know what comes over you. That emotion that had puzzled you for the last day now rips up and into your throat, saying works your brain hasn’t even processed.
“What if I can make myself useful to you.”
Defiance.
That catches him off guard, his large head tilting slightly. He’s only confused for a second before he chuckles, a deep sound that shakes your ribcage. “Well this is new. And what do you think you could possibly do for me?”
And now your brain has caught up, desperately searching for good answers. “I can cook, I can clean, I can organize- I’m sure a dragon as important as yourself has much better things to do than worry about the day to day.”
There’s a painful silence as the dragon mauls over your answer, terrifying eyes dragging over your form. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself grounded.
“I have to admit, it is an interesting proposition.” He steps closer and lowers his head to the ground, jaws only a few feet from you. “It wouldn’t be a good life, serving under me.”
“It would be a life.”
“I guess it would.” You feel the heat of his breath wash over you. “If you ever underperform I will not hesitate to kill you.”
“I understand.”
“And you will do whatever I ask?”
“I will.”
“Then we have a deal.”
You feel like you’ve just sold your soul to the devil. In a way, you probably have. But you don’t feel bad about it at all.
His head swings up and away from you, standing up and nearly scraping the ceiling. “You’ll stay in here until I clear out a space for you. I’ll lay out where you can and cannot go and what your daily routine should be.”
You nod, knowing he probably doesn’t need to hear much more from you.
“Get some rest. I’ll start working you to the bone tomorrow.”
And with that he leaves you, thundering steps disappearing into the depths of the further tunnels. When you can no longer hear and feel the steps you collapse to the ground, exhausted from bargaining for your life. Every muscle in your body had been tensed and you work your way through your body, individually willing your body to relax.
This was your life now. You needed to get used to this fucked up situation very fast.
Gathering yourself you find the largest couch and drag it over by the fountain and begin putting together your makeshift bed. It was surprisingly comfortable and the sound of running water did a lot to block out your worst thoughts.
You shut your eyes and before you know it a sleep of sheer exhaustion catches you, dragging you down into unconsciousness.
You’re not sure how much sleep you got, there was no way to tell the time this deep underground. But you feel as rested as you probably could get under the circumstances and quickly move the couch back to where you found it before the dragon could come and see you’ve disturbed his room. Piling your stuff neatly behind a rock on along the wall of the cavern you wait for your instructions.
You pace the heavily rugged floor trying to keep an ear out for the distinctive sound of a dragon approaching. You don’t have to wait too long for some noise- but it’s not what you expect. You hear regular human foot steps echo through the far tunnel- are you not the only human here? Did someone sneak past you in the middle of the night? All your questions are stopped in their tracks when a man walks out of the tunnel.
Well, not quite a man.
He’s mostly human, standing on two legs with tanned skin and slicked back black hair. Dressed in an immaculate suit with a fur lined cloak covering his broad shoulders. But of course- there were the other features. You first notice his hands- one covered in green scales and ending in sharp claws, the other a molten gold molded into similar claws. His ears are longer and more pointed than a humans and across his face is a long dark scar. And of course you can’t miss the thick crocodile tail dragging behind him, the same deep emerald green scales of the dragon you faced yesterday.
As he walks closer you notice that he’s still so much bigger than you- towering over your form by three feet or more. His eyes had the same reptilian slit to them as he looked you up and down.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d think you’d be remiss not to call him handsome. But the fear for your life drowns out most of those traitorous thoughts.
“Surprised to see you didn’t try and scamper off during the night.” His voice, while certainly not as loud, still resonates deep in your chest as it echoes off the tall stone walls of the cavern.
“I made a deal, I intend to see it through.” You make the choice not to look him in the eyes out of fear of disrespecting him.
“Good to see you have some sense. Here.” He reaches into his coat and pulls out a rolled up piece of paper. You take it and unfold it and see a map. “This is your map of my lair. I’ve labeled the caverns you can go in and which ones you can’t. You step a single foot into somewhere you’re not supposed to be- I’ll kill you.”
“Understood.” You reply, looking over the map. You knew this place had to be massive but looking over the paper in your hand it was so much vaster than you imagined. Dozens of caves and tunnels interlinking, going over and under each other. It made your head swim.
“I’ll guide you to the important rooms so you don’t get lost. But after that I expect you to be able to navigate on your own.” He starts walking and you follow close behind as you try and track where you’re going on the map.
You travel down deep, following him as he quickly navigates the tunnels. Thankfully everything is lit by the same type of flaming braziers that are in the large entrance cavern.
“You don’t need to worry about preparing food for me- I only eat every few months and I eat more than you could possibly physically handle. You’re here to keep my lair neat and organized. Initial cleaning of the caverns I indicate and then if you do a good job- and only if- you can begin cataloguing my hoard.” He doesn’t make any effort to speak directly to you or to make sure you’re matching his pace.
“Yes my… lord?” It comes off more of a question as you quickly realize you have no idea what to refer to him as.
He stops in his tracks so abruptly you almost collide with his tail, but thankfully you’re able to stop just short. “This is the dry food storage, silly human foods that they leave as tribute. Should be enough for you to live on.”
You peek in, expecting a sparse and dingy space but are pleasantly surprised when you see all manner of foods. Beans, grains, dried fruits, spices, and probably more in the dark wooden cabinets and shelves. You only have that brief moment before he is walking off again and you hastily follow.
“Sir Crocodile. That’s the best name you humans have given me, so you can refer to me as such. My true name is unpronounceable for human forms.”
You nod, not like he can see you but better safe than sorry. Only a few tunnels later he stops again and points to the smallest cavern yet. It’s not actually small by most definitions of the word but as you gaze in you might actually call it cozy.
There’s a mismatch of elegant furniture piled in there- a dresser, a cabinet, a large bed, and rugs covering the stone floor. The bed is unmade but linens sit on top of it and even from this distance you know they are higher quality than you have ever even seen.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping and existing when not performing your duties. I don’t want you out wandering when I haven’t assigned you something.” And then he’s back to walking. You were expecting to just be thrown in a bare room but seemingly he put forth some effort… you’re not sure what to think about that.
The next stretch of your journey is long and you purposefully make sure your eyes don’t wander into any caverns you’re not stopping at. You focus on tracing your path, finger dragging along the rough paper of the map as you go.
“This is the last cave you’ll be allowed in until you prove yourself trustworthy.” He stops and finally fully turns around to face you. “This is my surplus- the stuff left to me that I deemed not worthy of my hoard. It’s been sitting and collecting dust for too long. I need to know what exactly is here and if I should keep it in storage or dispose of it. After you’re done cleaning the previous spaces and the tunnels between you can get to work on organizing and cataloging everything in here.”
To call this place a mess would be kind. Layers of junk and books haphazardly thrown into a cave that you honestly can’t tell the size of. There’s only room to get maybe five feet through the entrance before the wall of stuff is piled nearly as high as the ceiling. And on top of everything is a thick layer of dust and dirt. This might take your lifetime to sort through.
You turn your glance back to Sir Crocodile and realize he’s been carefully watching you this whole time, sharp gaze dragging over your body. Suddenly it’s ten degrees hotter in the tunnel and you force your eyes back to the ground. Did he purposefully make his human form attractive or was that just the default? And why did you even find the creature that could kill you without a second thought attractive. Stupid stupid base instincts.
“I suggest you clean the tunnels first so you learn your way. Then the entrance, food storage, and lastly here. You clean your room on your own time. I expect you to work at least eight hours a day- keep track with this.” That golden clawed hand extends out and you see a pocket watch settled in his palm. You reach out and take it, fingertips gliding over the cold metal of his hand.
“Thank you sir.” Pressing the small button on the top you find out what time it is- just before noon.
“Do your best not to make too much noise. If there is something so completely wrong you cannot deal with yourself just yell. I will hear. Just like I will hear if you try to leave, understood?”
“Yes.” Silence hangs awkwardly in the air and you look upward for a second to see him glaring down at you.
“Yes sir.” You correct, and his face returns to neutral.
“Alright, don’t make yourself too comfortable. I’ll check back soon.” And with that he turns and walks away, down a tunnel that you don’t have permission to tread into.
You let out a long breath, taking in all of the information he’s just given you. Using your map you (slowly) make your way back up through the tunnels to where you started. As you passed by the few spaces you were allowed in you couldn’t help but think about how much better this whole situation was than you expected.
Sure, scrubbing rock for weeks wouldn’t be fun but you expected much worse like cleaning his scales or butchering meals. You even had a space of your own that rivaled your room back home. Of course there’s no sunlight and you have the hanging threat of being eaten alive but you can’t help but feel a weird sense of relief. It’s not like you have anyone that you miss or responsibilities that you’ve left behind. This was just the newest (and incredibly bizarre) chapter in your life.
Well.
Time to get cleaning.
It takes you two weeks to clean the entrance, food storage, and the tunnels connecting them all. You worked more than your mandatory hours- what else were you going to do anyways, stare at stone walls? The work wasn’t fun by any means, dragging water to and from the fountain in the entrance cave was a serious workout, but there was something fulfilling once you were completely done with a space.
The entrance was the easiest given the water source was right there. You had taken one of the worse looking rugs and ripped it up to use as you cloths figuring you shouldn’t pester Sir Crocodile for cleaning supplies when you could figure out something on your own. Once everything had been as cleared of sand and dust as it could get you got to organize out the room- something actually a little fun.
You matched together furniture and set it up perfectly for gatherings. Not like there was actually ever going to be a gathering but at least your arrangement will never be messed up. You made sure to leave ample room for a dragon sized being to make it from the far tunnel to the exit- he probably leaves at some point.
The food storage wasn’t that bad either. You worked your way through it in between cleaning the entry cave and the tunnels, mostly when it was time to eat. There was a huge variety of food, most expensive and long lasting. It made sense, given that it was meant for Sir Crocodile and that no one would offer him anything less than their best for fear of being eaten. You were eating better than you had been in a while.
Throwing yourself into the work you could nearly forget why you were here in the first place. You hadn’t seen Sir Crocodile since he gave you that initial tour- you hadn’t even heard or felt movement deeper in the tunnels. Despite having no signs of him you could still feel his presence somehow. Every time you turned around you expected to see him standing there, judging you. But he never was. Maybe it was a sign you were doing a good enough job but you had no confidence in that.
No matter if your job was up to the correct standards or not you were onto your final task- cleaning and organizing the overstock. Far away the most daunting task. You have your bucket and cloths but honestly you have no idea where to start.
“From the top.” That deep voice comes from right behind you and the yelp that leaves you as you jump is mortifying.
You whip around and see Sir Crocodile in his humanoid form, clearly pleased with the reaction he got from you. He’s got a nasty grin, showing that his teeth are just as sharp as they are in his draconic form.
“I’m sorry sir?” You do your best to return your heart rate to its normal rhythm as you straighten yourself out.
“You were trying to figure out how to start here. From the top. Taking anything from the base even if it seems loose might cause the whole pile to collapse and crush you to death.” There’s a few terrifying seconds where you think he can read your mind but you shove that away- it was probably incredibly obvious how lost you were.
“Thank you sir.” It was probably simple advice but getting a clear starting point was relieving.
“Of course, I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”
Your brain struggles to process that statement, a weird mix of emotions swirling in your stomach at his words. You shove it all down for now- you can parse through that later.
“I’m glad my work is up to your standards sir. Was there something you needed?” Your hands grip your water bucket tight as his gaze bores into you.
“I’m just making sure that you are still aware of my presence. For a human though, you do seem pretty competent. You haven’t even tried to run away once.” He steps closer to you, invading your space. “Why is that?”
“I-“ You suck in a breath as you try and fight the urge to cower. “I have nothing to go back to.”
His pupils are narrow slits as they rake over your face for a few painfully silent moments. He then straightens up, barely exiting your personal space. “Interesting.”
He turns and slowly walks away, a clawed hand waving in the air. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
You finally exhale when he leaves the space, able to relax just a bit. Shoving down all your thoughts for now you focus on cleaning in a way that doesn’t destabilize the pile and crush you. It works for a while as a distraction but you slowly lose your focus and need to stop for the day.
It wasn’t until you were tucked in bed that you allowed your emotions to surface.
“I couldn’t have my new pet getting killed after they’ve done some decent work.”
It should disgust you to be called a pet. It should be dehumanizing and humiliating to have someone else look at you and see you as something so small, something they own. You search and hope that’s what’s churning deep in your stomach.
It’s not.
A shameful realization washes over you as the words repeat in your head, that low, terrifying voice somehow praising you while putting you down. You weren’t disgusted.
Heat pools in the pit of your body, a sick reaction you couldn’t will away.
You loved when he called you his pet.
You were fucked.
For the next few weeks your work slowed considerably. Not because you were less motivated- but because the overstock room had so many wonderful things. Sure there was a fair share of junk- broken porcelain dishes, rotting wooden statues, things that are so beaten you can’t even hope to identify. But the things that aren’t junk are fascinating.
You find trinkets and toys that spin and dance in ways you can’t figure out. Jewelry that despite being dusty, rusted, or dented was still gorgeous. Hand woven blankets and rugs that you could see the time and energy put in despite the holes and fraying edges. And then there were the books.
Most were non-fiction and on topics you could have only ever hoped to have learned about. From science to history to mathematics and everything in between every single page was fascinating. Every day you collected all the new books you would find and saved them for yourself later.
You’ve made yourself a reading corner in that cavern- cast off rugs and blankets folded and placed over the stone so you can sit somewhat comfortably. You fall back to only working your exact hours so you can spend the rest of your time reading. Pages old and new fill your head and you can only wonder that if these were the books dismissed by the sand dragon- what books lay in his true hoard?
“And what are you doing?” How someone so large continues to sneak up on you you’ll never understand.
You jump up, fear gripping your chest as he catches you decidedly not working. His face is decidedly unamused and you think that maybe you’ve really fucked up.
“I-“ For a second you debate lying, debate saying that you were thumbing through the pages to properly organize the book. But you aren’t the best liar- certainly not in the face of someone so terrifying. “I’m spending my off time reading through some of your books sir. I figured asking if I could read through some of your spare books was a question I shouldn’t have bothered you with.”
“Smart move pet.” Your body relaxes slightly, having made the right move. “What are you reading?”
That question catches you off guard, not expecting him to care. “Oh, this is a book on astronomy.”
“And is that interesting to you?” You can’t tell if it’s just his natural tone that makes it sound almost like an accusation or if he’s judging you.
“It’s something I never had the chance to learn about before so I decided to take the opportunity to educate myself.”
Crocodile nods, seemingly pleased with your answer. “A good use of your spare time. Just don’t get carried away.”
“Yes, of course sir.”
And like that he’s gone again. The conversation lingers in your mind until the next day when you come back to the cavern to see a plush chair situated where your rugs had been set up.
You can’t stop yourself from flushing as you look over your gift. You try not to let your thoughts and emotions get away from you, there was probably a banal reason he put a chair in here for you. I mean, sitting on the floor was probably bad for your back and if it was bad for your back then your work could be impacted.
It’s that and not that he might care about you.
No matter what, reading is a lot nicer when you’re not sitting on a stone floor.
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fandom-which-one · 1 year ago
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I need people to write so many fics for Trolls 3.
My friends went and saw it and immediately were like " we need these as fics and hope someone finds inspiration to write some based off of these:
1. Branch is the one captured (alternative he somehow sacrifices himself to swap with it save Floyd)
2. All the drama lowdown of the bros finding out and actually reacting to the fact that Grandma died and they left their baby bro for over 2p years essentially alone, even if they were not aware that he was alone.
2B. Plus the fact that because of the trauma he spent so much of his life gray and while he has more color again he still has some permanent effects from that ex: while not black his hair is still a darker blue and his skin isn't as pigmented blue as it was when he was a kid.
3. Really just any addressing of Branches fear of abandonment (like when they are singing as (Sp)Bruce's restaurant he's singing to them the lines of the song "you're all I ever wanted ...ect")
4. Any situation where they came looking for him sooner.
5. This is a bit more out there but I'm including in the list for my friend, "Somehow Branch gets turned into a kid again, maybe without full memory but enough that they have to build trust with him again because the fear of abandonment is still there (poppy can just be made a friend in this for slight au purposes if regressed Branch is permanent)
6 literally just all the Branch whump and hurt/comfort fics people wanna give.
Once again please feel free to use these as prompts if you want or as inspiration for fics.
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luneaticlab · 11 months ago
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AMORE (Chapter 1)
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Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)
synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.
Word count- 1.4k
IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.
•I do not own any of the pictures•
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
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"come again?"
hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"
"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.
"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.
"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.
"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.
you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.
His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.
Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .
He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?
"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.
"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.
"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"
"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.
:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。
"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh
Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-
you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.
:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:
next day , 7.39 a.m
You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.
Fuck it, it's now or never.
you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.
You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.
You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you
"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand
Bingo
"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.
Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.
'"Come in"
"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.
He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."
You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.
"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.
Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.
Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.
・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜
3.39 p.m
"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.
He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.
You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.
"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.
"I didn't have time to"
"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.
"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.
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You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,
"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"
You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.
"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.
You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.
He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."
well damn, at least it was worth the try.
You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.
"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.
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7:51 p.m, Daegu.
It was pouring cats and dogs.
"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.
"But i don't have any spare clothes."
"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.
"I think we should."
----------------------------------------------------------
You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.
"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.
"Sure , sir"
You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.
When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"
You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.
"Please" You practically whimpered.
Just like that, his lips were on yours.
To be continued
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winterdaphne2 · 5 months ago
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Favorite Johnlock Fics (BBC Sherlock)
I went on a bit of a fic-reading spree this spring, and this list of favorites is the result! There are many other fics that I’ve enjoyed reading, but these are the ones that I’ve really loved for one reason or another.
I’ve tagged the authors whose tumblrs I could find. If that’s you, thank you so much for sharing your writing with us. If your work is on here, you wrote something that I really treasure.
1. A River Without Banks, by Chryse. E, 203,286 words. Starts right after Season 3. A mix of Sherlock’s perspective, John’s perspective, and the perspectives of other characters. Sherlock-focused for the first half.
Author’s summary: “‘You love this, being Sherlock Holmes.’ He had once. When had it all gone so wrong?”
This is my absolute favorite. The author’s characterization of Sherlock is amazingly accurate, and Sherlock’s character development over the course of the story is breathtakingly executed and moving. The plot is fantastic and takes you on a page-turning emotional roller coaster, especially for about the first half of the story. I was also continually impressed by how many details from the show and references to earlier parts of the fic the author was able to weave in throughout while still keeping the story creative and original. Most importantly, though, I love this fic for the message that it sends about Sherlock and John’s love, which is a far more positive message than the one that the actual show settled upon in the end. I’m grateful that we have this version of their love story, and, personally, I like to pretend that this was Season 4 and how the show ended.
2. Another Country, by Chryse. E, 67,414 words. Starts right after the end of TAB. Sherlock’s perspective.
Sherlock spends one month and three days under house arrest in 221B, trying to get clean from the drugs, track down the new Moriarty, and figure out what the hell is going on between him and John.
Another fantastic work by Chryse. This author really gets Sherlock’s character, and once again the characterization of Sherlock is spot-on and convincing. There are a few other elements that also make this a compelling story, including smart use of minor characters, a solid central mystery, and a complicated relationship between Sherlock and John that includes a pretty convincing post-Season-3 version of John. Excellent.
3. walk through ghosts, by @augustbird. M, 6,125 words. Written between Seasons 2 and 3. Sherlock’s perspective.
Author’s summary: “The thing is: Sherlock thought that the two of them would have forever to figure it out.”
This is the saddest fic I have ever read, and so beautifully written. The author captures Season 2 Sherlock’s character perfectly; the fact that this story feels so real is what makes it devastating. The day after I read this, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and walked around with my heart physically aching in my chest.
4. Nature and Nurture, by @earlgreytea68. M, 203,273 words. Set sometime after Season 2. Alternates between John’s and Sherlock’s perspectives, but mostly told from John’s.
The British government clones Sherlock. He and John decide to raise the baby.
A true fandom classic. The premise sounds super cracky, but somehow it really works. This fic is surprisingly serious at times, but overall it is the cutest and funniest thing I have ever read in my life. Basically 200,000+ words of Sherlock and John being adorable gay fathers together and working through some feelings, with line-by-line some of the most hilarious dialogue ever. The five accompanying ficlets that the author wrote as short follow-ups are also worth checking out; my favorites were School (T, 4,753 words) and The Radovljica Apicultural Museum (T, 4,540 words).
5. To a Friend Who Sent Me Roses, by @algyswinburne. E, 16,147 words. Set sometime after Season 4 (but ignores TFP, as we all should lol). Sherlock’s perspective.
Author’s summary: “Five times Sherlock is mistaken for John’s partner and Rosie’s father, and one time it isn’t a mistake.”
This fic is sad, sweet, and hot by turns. Absolutely lovely to read in so many ways, and with so many great details and lines. I think this story offers convincing portrayals of what Sherlock’s and John’s characters might be like after it all and how they might finally get together. This and A River Without Banks are my favorite alternate endings to the show. Beautiful!
6. for all that bitter delights will sour, by @darcylindbergh. E, 9,585 words. Set sometime after Season 3. Sherlock’s perspective.
John initiates a sexually and emotionally abusive relationship with Sherlock.
The second saddest fic I have read. I would never want what happens in this fic to happen to Sherlock and John, so I don’t exactly recommend it as a Johnlock fic. But as a short story, this is a gem, full of absolutely gorgeous and incredibly moving writing. It depicts difficult themes very deftly, in lines and paragraphs that I had to stop to read over and over. I appreciate this as an emotionally powerful and thought-provoking piece of writing inspired by Sherlock, so for that reason I think it deserves to be on this list.
7. The Ground Beneath Your Feet, by Chryse. E, 68,803 words. Set after Season 3, but as if the last two minutes of HLV never happened. “The plane went on to Eastern Europe, and this is what came after.” John’s perspective.
This fic is pretty dark; the author describes it as “a PTSD story in which John was wholly devoted to Sherlock.” I don’t love it quite as much as the other two fics by Chryse that I’ve listed here, but that’s mostly because those two are just so amazing! I still really enjoyed this one. It was wonderful to see a kind and caring version of John emerge out of Season 3, and the story had several memorable moments, including one particularly nail-biting scene. I also really liked seeing John and Mycroft become friends as they bonded over their shared concern for Sherlock.
8. The Adventures of a Single Girl in London (Plus a Consulting Detective), by @earlgreytea68. M, 32,913 words. Set soon after Season 3. Alternates between different characters’ perspectives.
Bored with life at her new cottage in Sussex, Janine returns to London and moves in with Sherlock at 221B. Hilarity, heartbreak, and eventual Johnlock ensue.
This is a Season 3 fix-it fic that features an absolutely lovely friendship between Sherlock and Janine and the best version of Janine that I’ve come across in a fic. Sherlock is vulnerable and sweet, John is an absolute idiot, Janine is perfect, and the last two chapters just make me scream. Great stuff.
And that’s it for now! If you know of any other fics that I might like based on the above, I’d be happy to hear about them, so drop me a line!
Happy reading 😊
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stevie-petey · 10 months ago
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episode eight: the upside down
You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends? “Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused.  “Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!” “We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted. Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”
summary: drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.
rating: general, cursing and slight scary violence
warnings: violence, use of fire and weapons, guns, use of fem!reader and use of y/n, slight mentions of blood and death
words: 13.7k
before you swing in: the final chapter ,,, my heart </3 please enjoy my child, i put so much into this chapter. action scenes scare me, they're hard and i'm weak, so i hope this lives up to everything you guys wanted n more ;) i cannot believe we're at the end (but i do have another chapter planned that's set in season 1, so shhhh). thank you so so so much for all your support. i never thought this silly lil fic would get that much attention, but i'm insanely flattered and grateful for each and every one of y'all. i'm so proud of what i've created and you guys are my beloveds ,,, anyways, enjoy !!!
-
You almost miss Jonathan and Nancy sneaking off. 
You had been explaining a comic book that had been in your bag to El when you noticed a shift in your periphery. Turning your head, you see Jonathan stand, offer Nancy his hand to help her up, and then walk towards the main doors together. 
What the fuck. 
“They wouldn’t dare…” You excuse yourself and run out the gym and into the hallway to follow them, absolutely furious. You’re so sick of their bullshit, of Jonathan’s bullshit and putting Nancy first. This isn’t even a petty jealousy thing, this is about the years of friendship between the two of you that has just suddenly disappeared within a damn week all due to circumstances completely out of your control. 
The slam of the main door is the only warning Jonathan gets before you’re yanking him by his coat and flinging him back, forcing him to look at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
You’ve never, ever yelled at him like this before. Not even earlier this week when he’d given you that bullshit apology after screaming at you for being in his room, for saying the two of you weren’t family. You didn’t yell at him for hiding Nancy’s pictures from you, for going off without you to find the monster. Despite everything, you’ve never been this cruel to him, even if he may have deserved it at times.
Jonathan’s wide eyes stare down at your hand that’s still clutched around his coat, frightened. “Bug, we were just–”
“Just what? Sneaking off without me?”
“It’s not like that, Y/N.” Nancy now steps in, her hands held up as if you’re some rabid dog she wants to calm down. “We just figured we’d help Joyce and Hopper.”
“‘We’? Are you fucking kidding me? You two talked about this, had an entire conversation, and still somehow came to the conclusion that ditching me was a great fucking idea?” You scoff, deeply hurt by the fact that the two of them had an entire conversation without thinking to include you in it. 
“Bug, can we talk about this one on one?” Jonathan asks, his voice lowered. You can see the genuine upset in his eyes and for a moment your grip on him lessens, but then you see Nancy behind him and your anger only returns. 
“No, we can discuss this right here.” 
He sighs and tries to grab the hand not clutching his coat, but you slap it away. “Bug–”
“You’ve lost that privilege.” 
“Bug–I mean, Y/N,” His voice falters. “Look, my mom and Hopper are out there right now trying to find Will while that monster is still out. Nance and I… We want to finish what we started.” 
“Without me?” You don’t mean for it to happen, but your voice catches at the end.
Jonathan’s gaze softens and this time he succeeds in grabbing your hand. You let go of him and allow him to pull you in, weak against him as always. “I’m doing this to protect them, to protect you, Y/N. I’m always trying to protect you. You know that, right?”
You used to think that you did, but now? You’re not so sure, and it terrifies you. 
Nancy has stepped away from the conversation, now kicking at rocks while you’re with Jonathan, and you can’t help but think about how wrong all of this feels. 
Throughout this entire week it’s felt like someone has given you a photo of Jonathan, smeared its lines and edges, removed his moles and his crooked smile and made it neater, altered so that if you squint you can see the boy you grew up with underneath it all… But it’s fuzzy, almost too unclear to really see. 
Now he’s standing in front of you, his smile once more crooked and cunning and his moles faded underneath the moonlight and for a second you can see him. There he is, clear and untouched and him in a way that’s never quite been yours.
“I know,” you tell him. “But how many more times do you expect me to forgive you for lying and ditching me? If you want to protect me, you need to talk to me.”
Jonathan winces. “I know, I know it sounds stupid and I know I’ve fucked up more than enough this week, I just get caught up in wanting to make sure you’re safe. It’d kill me if I let anything happen to you… I just, I can’t lose you, bug.”
“So pushing me away is your grand plan of keeping me?”
“I’ve always been an idiot.” He manages a smile, and you can’t help but laugh. 
“That’s true, but if you attempt to ditch me one more time I swear to god I’ll pour tar all over your car.”
The boy laughs and for a brief moment everything feels okay again, but it doesn’t last very long. “In our defense, we figured you’d be better off with the kids since you’re not really a fighter, ya know?” 
You drop his hand. “Excuse me?” 
Jonathan’s smile is gone. “What?”
“I’m not really a fighter? You’re kidding, right?”
“Hey, no I didn’t mean it like that–” Jonathan fumbles over his words, clearly taken aback by your sudden mood change. 
You step away from him. “How many times did I defend you against Lonnie? Better yet, remind me how we became friends in the first place. Wasn’t it because I threw milk at a bunch of idiots bullying you? Huh?”
“Y/N–”
“God, I can’t believe I almost let you get away with it again! I mean, do you even hear the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?” You deepen your voice, now doing a poor impersonation of him. “‘Hey, bug! You know I love you, right? Cool! Now, I’m gonna go do fuck all and ignore you and ditch you and then somehow turn it into me being a good guy because duh! I can never do any wrong!’”
“Please, just–”
“Did I get it right? It was a pretty good impersonation in my opinion. I mean, I am the one who has had to deal with this shit all fucking week. I think I'm an expert on this topic now.” 
Jonathan looks pained but you don’t fucking care anymore. You’ve reached your limit, you’re sick and tired of being treated like some delicate creature that’s incapable of taking care of itself. You literally slapped Tommy Hagan this afternoon in order to help Jonathan, yet here he is basically calling you weak. 
And yet Nancy is the fighter. She’s the one who gets to go along on the adventure while you’re sidelined because for some damn reason you’re always the second option. Never taking matters into your own hands, always the one left behind to clean up the mess and take care of those also discarded. 
You’re sick of it. 
You step closer to Jonathan again, so that you’re nose to nose, and whisper, “I’m tired of never being good enough.” 
And with that, you reach into his coat and snatch up his keys, a game you’ve always played with him but now has turned into a bitter taste in your mouth, and run back into the gym. Someone has to inform the kids of the plan, make sure they’ll be okay on their own. 
Dustin sees you approach and smiles, but when he notices the angry pace in your steps, he frowns. “Uh oh.”
“Yeah, uh oh.” 
“Jonathan again?”
You nod, still too angry to trust your words. “Yeah.” 
He notices the keys in your hand. “Where are you going?”
Mike and Lucas look over now, curious as to what’s happening. 
You sigh. “I’m going with Nancy and Jonathan to the Byers house, we’re going to kill the monster.” 
“Why the hell are you going?” Dustin exclaims while Mike shoutes “sick!” and Lucas mumbles “great, alone again”. El remains quiet, still resting. 
You flick your brother’s hat. “I have to, Dustin.”
“For Jonathan?” He shakes his head. “I like him, but aren’t you mad at him right now?”
“Is it just me, or is she always mad at him these days?” Mike whispers over to Lucas, who simply shrugs. 
“Girls, man.” 
You ignore them and focus on Dustin. “It doesn’t matter. He needs my help, and no one in the party gets left behind. Remember?”
“Y/N–”
“I love you,” you kiss the top of his head. “I promise I’ll be safe, just be careful, okay? I’m putting you in charge, so don’t let me down. If everything goes according to plan, I’ll see you in a few hours tops!”
Dustin tries to argue some more, but you quickly run back outside before he can get another word in. You feel horrible leaving him behind, but you know this is the right decision. If you can kill the monster, there’s less of a chance of the kids or Joyce and Hopper getting hurt. Jonathan and Nancy may be fine on their own, but there’s always power in numbers and they’ll need all the help they can get. 
You just… you have to help. You know this is what you’re supposed to be doing, even if it pains you to do so. Dustin and the kids are smart; as long as they stay at the school, they’ll be fine. 
In theory, that is.
Nancy and Jonathan are waiting for you outside. You push past them and march towards Jonathan’s care; they awkwardly follow after you. You unlock it, throw yourself into the backseat, and promptly dig through your backpack to make sure you have everything. 
The two teens get in a few minutes after you. Not one word is spoken as Jonathan starts the car and the three of you drive off, leaving Hawkins Middle behind. 
– 
You thought the car ride with Nancy and Jonathan from the funeral home had been tense, but this one? Downright painful. 
Jonathan has a tight grip on the steering wheel and keeps trying to catch your eye through the rearview mirror but you avoid his gaze. You’ve spent the last five minutes arranging and rearranging your backpack to give you something to do while Nancy has tried three times to make conversation to make this car ride bearable. 
“El seems nice.” 
“You said four words to her, Nancy.” You retort, switching open your switchblade once more to watch the moonlight dance off of its blades. 
“Right.” 
Nancy shifts uncomfortably in the passenger seat. You know she realizes she’s once again upset the balance in your relationship with Jonathan. It was only an hour ago that she tried getting you to admit your feelings for him before convincing the boy to up and leave you. Sure, Jonathan made his own decision in the end, but damn. She could’ve at least pretended to want you around. 
She notices your knives and tries to spark conversation again. “I love the color of the handle, it’s beautiful.” 
“Thanks,” you switch the blades closed and sit up in your seat. “Anyways, you geniuses have a plan or were you just counting on ditching me and winging it from there?”
“Y/N–”
“No, Nancy. I insist, let’s talk about a plan. We’re here to kill a monster, right?”
She closes her mouth and frowns, turning to Jonathan for help, but he’s no use. He’s busy tapping his fingers against the wheel and praying that the world will just swallow him up whole. Too bad for him you’re a stubborn pain in the ass and would simply pluck him back up so you can torture him some more. 
Nancy sighs. “Well, Jonathan and I were thinking we use the supplies we got earlier and lure the monster to his place, then we kill it.” 
“Awesome plan, guys!” You say, your voice dripping with sickly sweetness that leaves them both feeling even more uncomfortable. “But may I suggest some actual details or shall we just bank off of this wonderfully dull and vague plan?” 
“Sure, Y/N. Tell us what you had in mind.” Nancy rubs her face tiredly, knowing she deserves this. 
“Great! I’m assuming we’re luring the monster with blood?” They nod at you, so you continue. “Okay, so before we lure it I think we should completely booby-trap Jonathan’s house. Nail the bear trap down onto the floor, make sure the floor is cleared of anything that could trip us up. Then, once we’ve got the house secured, we knick ourselves to draw some blood and pray to whatever god is up there that we can kill the thing.” 
You pause for a moment, remembering how all the Christmas lights had been unscrewed by Joyce earlier. “The lights, we need to fix them. The monster communicates through the lights so if we have them, then we can track it.”
“That all sounds great, bug.” Jonathan finally speaks up, ass kissing. 
“Thanks, pal. Still don’t have the bug privilege back, but I’m sure you simply forgot.” 
He gulps, once more going back to being silent as he drives you and Nancy to his house. 
Nancy again tries to diffuse the tension. “How do we even kill the monster though? I mean, will my bullets be enough?”
“I have this idea, but it’s… well, it’s out there.” You bite your lip, now feeling your cocky demeanor slipping. “If we can safely set fire to it, I think that’s our best bet.”
“Fire?” Jonathan exclaims, but Nancy shushes him. 
“I think you’re right.” 
“Y/N, I know you’re mad at me but do we really have to set fire to my house–”
Now it’s your turn to shush Jonathan. “This isn’t about that. I wouldn’t burn your house down, I already told you I’d just pour tar on your car whenever I get the chance. For now, I really do think the best thing to do is burn the monster alive. In every horror movie and book, fire always gets the job done.” 
Despite herself, Nancy lets out a soft chuckle as Jonathan parks the car, now at his house. “She’s right, Jonathan. And who burns down houses these days? Tar really is the best form of revenge.” 
“I’m flattered, Wheeler. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be off my shitlist in no time.” You tell her, patting her on the shoulder before getting out of the car. You quickly open up the trunk and gather the monster hunting supplies while Jonathan and Nancy take their time getting out. 
You let yourself into the Byers home using your own key to the place. It’s been nestled in between the key to your house and the spare key to Jonathan’s car on your keychain for a few years now. 
The first thing you get started on are the lights. There’s hundreds of them to get through, but you drop your supplies and begin screwing them in one by one. Nancy and Jonathan come in soon after and silently begin to help. 
No conversation is made besides the necessary comments about the prep work. You’re all too focused on the possibility of what could happen next; the danger of the situation has finally set in. After the lights have all been fixed, you instruct Jonathan to begin nailing the bear trap down while you and Nancy discuss where to pour the gasoline. You both agree to make a path from the living room to Will’s room. 
As Nancy pours the gasoline, you follow behind her and pick up any flammables. You weren't lying to Jonathan earlier, you really don’t want to burn his house down. While the house is wrecked, it’s still a home despite everything that’s happened in it. You practically grew up within its walls, you’d do anything to keep it as protected as possible. 
When you’re done, you watch Nancy load her gun. A shiver runs down our spine; she looks at ease with it, which you figure should be reassuring, but the gravity of everything leaves you feeling on edge. You leave her alone and walk into the kitchen where Jonathan is, now hammering a ton of nails into his bat. 
You begin to sharpen your blades next to him, still finding that you only feel secure by his side. The rhythmic sound of his hammering calms you, in a sense. It serves as a distraction. You know you insisted on coming, you don’t regret it and you know you’re stronger than everyone seems to give you credit for, but you’re also terrified. This isn’t just some adventure in the woods; this could kill the ones you love dearly. 
Once you’re both done preparing your weapons, the two of you walk to Will’s room and rig up a simple snare. Jonathan grabs a yo-yo and you pull up a chair to set it on. The idea is that when the string gets pulled, it’ll alert you that the monster has sprung the bear trap. It’s not the most efficient warning system, but it’ll have to do. 
The last thing to do is set the bear trap, which takes all three of you to achieve. Jonathan and Nancy hold down the edges with their body weight and you very carefully set the trap with your hand. You shake a bit as you do so, but you force your nerves down. You remind yourself that Jonathan thinks you’re too weak, too cowardly, you have to prove him wrong. 
When the bear trap clicks into place, you let out a harsh exhale and sink against the wall, your heart still pounding. Jonathan and Nancy copy you and the three of you sit in silence. You’re still shaking a bit, and Jonathan is next to you just as tense, but for the first time since you’ve met him you can’t reach out to grab his hand to steady yourself. He’s too far, both literally and figuratively. Even with him next to you, you couldn’t be more far apart. 
In the back of your mind, you hope the kids are alright. Hopefully they’re having a better night than you currently are. 
“C’mon,” you say after a few minutes, getting up to walk over to the living room. “We’ve done all we can, now we just have to draw some blood and be the prettiest bait in Hawkins.”
– 
Nancy and Jonathan decide to cut the palm of their hands, but you respectfully would rather die than have a matching scar with them. The idea makes you so uncomfortable you visibly cringe when Jonathan tells you the idea. “Yeah, no thanks. I think I’ll find somewhere else to cut.” 
He looks hurt by what you’ve said but doesn’t voice it. Instead, the three of you stand in the living room in a triangle facing each other and he begins reciting the plan. “Remember…”
Nancy goes first. “Straight into Will’s room and–” 
“Don’t step on the trap.” You finish.
Jonathan nods. “And then?”
“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” The girl says. 
“Then…” Jonathan flicks the lighter on.
You whistle low. “Let there be light…” 
“Right. Light.” The boy nods again. “Alright, we ready?”
“Ready.”
“Scar time.” 
Jonathan and Nancy bring their hands up and place their knives flat against their palms. You roll up your sleeve and place your own knife against the upper part of your arm, just below your shoulder, and take a deep breath. 
“On three,” Jonathan says. He begins counting and you all can’t seem to stop shaking. He senses your unease and looks up at you and Nancy. “You guys don’t have to do this.”
Nancy glares at him, her own voice shaky. “Jonathan, stop talking.”
You nod. “Yeah, what she said.”
Jonathan tries to argue, but Nancy squeezes her eyes shut and yells, “Three!”
You close your own eyes and slice at your arm, the pain immediate. You gasp out, never having been good with pain, but you know you have to do this for Will. The blood trails down your arm, dripping from your elbow onto the ground, and you watch as blood from Jonathan’s and Nancy’s own cuts falls onto the ground too. 
Well, at least it’ll be an easy scar to hide compared to theirs. 
“Fuck, that stings.” You say to break the silence, and Nancy nods her head in agreement. 
“Not the most pleasant feeling.” 
Jonathan guides the two of you over to the couch and grabs the first aid kit that you had prepared on the coffee table. He sits in the middle, leaving room for both you and Nancy on each side of him, but you’re still pissed at him and opt to sit on the floor in front of the couch.
Nancy begins to patch up his wound, and it takes everything within you not to reach over and help him yourself. It feels unnatural to watch someone else taking care of him, but the space between you still feels too vast to cross. 
You patch up your own cut while the two of them talk quietly. You wind a bandage tight around your arm, ensuring you won’t bleed through, and Jonathan watches above you with guilt in his eyes. Nancy is trying to reassure him that everything will be okay, but as he watches you struggle to tie the bandage he wonders if he’s fucked up more than just your friendship.
“Bug, let me help with that.” He leans down and ties your bandage before you can stop him. 
You glare at him, still having not said anything to Jonathan besides what was needed for preparation. Nancy distracts herself by cleaning up around his cut and your stomach twists into knots. This is all so miserable. 
“Y/N, I know you’re upset with me and you can go whenever. I won’t blame you, you’ve done enough for me.” Jonathan says, trying to catch your eye. 
You turn away and inspect your bandage, still reeling over the fact that he tied it for you. “I’m here for Will, and only Will.”
“Y/N…” There’s a hurt in his voice that almost makes you turn around to throw your arms around his neck and whisper a million apologies to him. To tell him everything, that you love him and that you’d do anything for him and that’s why you’re so terrified of how you feel. You know you’d burn yourself up if it meant he’d be taken care of, if it meant he was safe and happy and far away from anything that could harm him. You know you’d use up everything within you to love him. 
Instead, you remain silent.
After getting no response from you, Jonathan clears his throat and begins to say something about how the lights will serve as an alarm for the monster, trying to pretend that everything is okay, but he’s cut off by a sudden pounding on the door.
You all jump and your fingers tighten around your switchblade, ready to open it. As your heart pounds you think of all the possible ways the plan could go wrong. When you’re on possibility number twelve, a voice calls through the door. 
“Jonathan?”
“Is that… Steve?” You say out loud, in complete disbelief. 
Steve continues to pound on the door. “Are you there, man? It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!”
You’re the first to react, standing up to run over to the door. You fling it open and step outside, making sure Steve won’t be able to see inside the house. When he sees you, he stumbles back a bit. “Henderson?”
His face is still bleeding from earlier and his hair is a mess, and yet there’s a softness to him that you haven’t seen before with him. “Steve, now isn’t really a good time.”
“Can I just talk to Jonathan real quick? I just… I want to apologize about what happened earlier, see if we can maybe–” His eyes land on your bandaged arm. You curse and roll down your sleeve, feeling like an idiot for forgetting to hide the wound before going outside. 
Steve reaches out to touch it, a hint of worry on his face and his voice is now full of concern. “Hey, are you okay?”
You shiver at his touch, it’s gentle as he skims along the bandage and inspects it for any other problems. You pull away, now hiding the wound. “It’s nothing, but you should really go.”
“I want to help you, Y/N. Do you need me to get you anything?” His face is so full of worry for you that it makes you ache. Then a thought occurs to him. “Wait, where’s Byers? Why isn’t he here to help you?”
You’re about to make up a lie, but Nancy flings the door open. “Steve, listen to me.”
He looks between the two of you in complete shock. “Okay, what–”
“You need to leave.” Nancy orders.
Steve looks at you. “I’m not trying to start anything, okay?”
“I know, but–” You get cut off by Nancy.
“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.”
Steve begins to plead with the girl and you step away a bit, not wanting to intrude. You feel bad for him, he looks so beat down by what’s happened today and you suppose that you can’t really blame him. After spending maybe a total of ten hours with Nancy and Jonathan, you also have come close to losing your mind. 
If you were with Jonathan, if you truly had him, you’d react the same as Steve. Begging for the girl he loves to listen to him, to give him another chance with the promise of him changing. 
“I just want to make things right.” Steve says, impressing you with his vulnerability. He’s openly admitting to his mistakes and taking accountability mere hours after the situation has occurred, leaving you both in awe of him and also saddened for him. He loves Nancy more than anything, you can hear it in his voice. 
He deserves better. 
As you’re thinking this, you see his eyes flicker down towards Nancy’s bandaged hand and his brows furrow. “What happened to your hand? Is that blood?” His eyes now flicker over to you again. “Why are you both hurt?”
“We’re clumsy?” You say as Nancy yanks her hand away from Steve.
“It was an accident.” She agrees. 
Steve looks between the two of you, now sensing that something else is wrong. “What’s going on?” 
“Nothing!” Nancy insists, but something in Steve’s demeanor shifts. 
“Wait a second, did he do this to you? To Y/N?” His once soft voice is now filled with anger and you step in front of him. 
“Steve, it wasn’t Jonathan. You need to go, I promise I’ll explain everything later–” 
He grabs you by your side and gently moves you so that he can get past and shove through the door. Nancy yells at him to stop and tries to push him out, but she’s useless against his strength. When he manages to break in, he stumbles inside and scans over the house. 
“Shit!” You follow after him, your brain running a million miles a second trying to figure out how to explain everything to him. 
“What the fuck?” Steve mumbles, eyeing the bat with nails in it. “Y/N, what’s going on here?”
He’s looking to you for reassurance and you guess he assumes that the two of you are allies in this Jonathan and Nancy situation. You really wish you could explain, but Jonathan has grabbed him by the shoulders and is trying to push him outside. The two stumble around for a few seconds and you just helplessly watch. 
“Steve, there’s no time to explain, please just listen to Jonathan and get out of here!” You’re helping Jonathan now, trying to get Steve out the door and away from harm’s reach, but he’s still fighting back confused and lost as ever and you pity him. 
You hear a click and turn around, gasping when you see Nancy holding her gun up to Steve. “Woah, what the fuck Nancy?”
“What! What is going on?” Steve yells, now more panicked than anything else. 
While Jonathan has stepped away, you find yourself standing in front of Steve as if to somehow block the bullet. You can’t let him get hurt, he doesn’t have any part of this, he can still have a normal and happy life if he just leaves now. “Nancy, put the fucking gun down, this isn’t helping!”
Steve pleads with her as well and the two of you scream at the girl to just listen and not swing around loaded weapons, but Nancy remains firm in her stance. “You have five seconds to get out of here. I’m doing this for you.”
“Because holding a gun to his head is any better than telling him the truth?” You exclaim, entirely over the situation. 
As the four of you are arguing, the lights begin to flicker. Steve and Nancy don’t seem to notice, but you do. You look at Jonathan and say your first real words to him in hours. “Jonathan…”
He hears you and he runs over to your side, grabbing your hand as the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder. You feel your heartbeat race and you can feel him shaking beside you. He’s terrified, so are you, but his hand around yours manages to steady you. 
“Nancy!” Jonathan tries to get the girl’s attention, but she’s too busy counting down to hear him. 
He shouts at her again and the lights start to flicker more wildly and you draw your switchblade out, adrenaline coursing through you. It’s time. 
Jonathan yells once more and finally catches Nancy’s attention. “The lights!”
She whips her head around and curses, Jonathan, still tightly holding your hand, tugs you along so that you follow him as he secures his weapons and grabs the bat. “It’s here.”
“What’s here?” Steve is flailing around, utterly lost.
You all ignore him and now stand back to back in a triangle. Nancy holds up her gun, Jonathan wields his bat, and you flick your wrist to bring out your knives. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know!” 
The lights flicker rapidly and you feel overwhelmed. They were supposed to serve as a guide towards the monster, but there's no possible way to see which direction it’ll come from and for a fleeting moment you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 
Steve is still screaming, demanding answers, but you’re too busy scanning your surroundings to offer him some information. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going–”
The roof opens up, cutting Steve off, and you scream as the monster attempts to come down right above you. Jonathan shields you from the fallen debris and you cling onto him in utter fear. This isn’t real. This cannot be happening. 
Nancy begins to shoot at the thing while Jonathan guides you to safety. He brings you to the edge of the living room and holds your face in his hands, forcing you to really look at him for the first time all night. “Listen to me, stay here while I get Nancy.”
He kisses your forehead and then leaves, rushing over to Nancy to pull her away and guide her towards Will’s room. Steve stands next to you, frozen, and it forces you back to reality. The plan, you have to stick to the plan. 
You grab Steve’s hand and yank him so that he follows. The monster has dropped down now, a horrible creature on all fours that opens its gaping mouth to let out a horrible screech that you feel deep within your bones. This is what killed Barb. 
The four of you run to Will’s room and you only just barely have enough time to warn Steve about the bear trap. You look over your shoulder and shout, “Jump!” right as your ankle catches on its chains. 
You fall. Hard. 
Pain sears through your ankle and you try to get up, but any pressure on it sends flames through your entire body and you let out another scream. The monster catches up, looming over you, and you brace for your death. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this. 
You squeeze your eyes as the monster stalks close to you, its ugly mouth open and ready to kill you. Jonathan is screaming at you to get up, but Nancy is holding him back from helping. You’re relieved by this, knowing that someone has to be there for Will once this is all done. He’ll need his brother, and Nancy seems to understand this. You catch her eye and nod at her, sending a silent thank you. 
“Bug! No, let go of me! I have to help her, Nancy!” Jonathan’s voice becomes hoarse by how loud he screams, his voice breaking with fear and desperation. 
Then, right before the monster lunges at you, you feel a familiar pair of arms slide underneath your legs and pick you up. “What–”
Steve Harrington has swooped in to save you, picking you up as if you weigh nothing, ever the athlete, and swiftly jumps over the bear trap while screaming his head off. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
You’re so delirious from the pain in your ankle and the adrenaline pumping through your veins that you can’t help but let a laugh escape you. No fucking way is any of this real. Steve Harrington is carrying you bridal style into Will’s bedroom with Jonathan and Nancy as witnesses. 
What a life. 
Once you’re both secured in the room, Steve sets you down gently right as Nancy yells at him to shut up. As soon as Steve lets go of you, Jonathan is at your side and pulls you into a crushing hug. 
“Bug.” He breathes out against your ear, relief heavy. 
“I’m okay.” You tell him, threading your fingers through his hair. He’s shaking harder than ever, and holding onto you as if he’s scared he’ll lose you again. “I’m okay, bee.” 
He pulls away and his hands are all over you, checking everywhere for any other injuries. “Did it hurt you, are you bleeding? There should be a first aid kit–”
You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, which seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m fine, just twisted my ankle. If you help me up, I’m sure I’ll be able to stand again.” 
Jonathan quickly helps you to your feet and you lean against him for the extra support. While you put on a brave face for Jonathan, you’re terrified out of your fucking mind. You almost died. Jonathan is still holding your hand and he’s looking at you as if seeing you for the first time and you force yourself to look away. It’s the same look from the field days ago, when you thought he’d kiss you. 
You have to focus on what’s at stake.
How the hell are you guys supposed to kill this thing?
The monster screeches, breaking the moment between you and Jonathan, and he flicks his lighter on and forces you to stand behind him. Nancy holds up her gun and you bring your knives closer to your face, Steve standing weaponless behind you. 
You all wait, tense, for the monster. It stalks closer to the room, its awful growls alerting you of its proximity, but it doesn’t appear. 
“What’s it doing?” Nancy asks, frustrated. 
“I don’t know.” You respond, equally as frustrated and scared. 
Another few agonizing seconds pass, and you stare at the yo-yo and hope that it remains still. Then, the lights stop flickering and it becomes quiet. All you can hear is your blood roaring in your ears. 
Nancy looks around. “Do you hear anything?”
“No,” Jonathan shakes his head, inching closer to the door. 
“Wait!” You tug at your still interlocked hands. You pick up his bat that had been thrown on the ground and hand it to him. “Be careful. Please.”
He gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go, accepting the bat.
As Jonathan pokes his head out to see if the monster is outside, Steve bends his head down and whispers in your ear, “Romantic.”
“Shut. Up.” You hit him in the chest, fearfully watching your best friend to make sure he doesn't die. When he motions an all clear, Nancy follows him outside, then you, then Steve. 
The house is silent and your heart sinks when you see that the bear trap has been left untouched. You realize with a horrible gut wrench that the monster is smarter than the three of you had anticipated. 
So much for your plan, then.
“It’s smarter than we thought.” 
“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees with dismay. 
He stalks against the wall towards the living room and you all follow in a single file line. You do your best to stick close to the wall but you limp with every step. Your ankle is definitely out of commission for now. Great. 
All of you are on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It couldn’t have been that easy, there’s no possible way that the monster simply up and left. You enter the living room, which has gotten even more wrecked due the monster. The wallpaper has been torn off of some parts of the wall and you see papers scattered everywhere. 
“Shit…” you mumble, kicking at a shredded wallpaper strip. 
In the corner, Steve has started to hyperventilate and mumble to himself. “This is crazy, this is so crazy, this is fucking crazy.” 
You limp over to him and grab his shoulders, making him face you. “Steve, hey. It’s okay, I’m here.”
“Y/N, what the hell just happened?” 
“It’s… complicated. For now, can you trust me that everything will be okay?” 
“Of course I trust you, it’s just…” He nods, his eyes softening. You lessen your hold on him and give him a smile, he seems to be calming down. Then, he looks around the room and seemingly remembers where he is. “This is crazy!” 
Steve lunges for the phone on the wall and tries to call for help. 
You stumble after him, the pain in your ankle slowing you down. “Steve, wait–”
Nancy gets to him first, grabbing the phone out of his hand and throwing it across the room. He looks at her, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”
“It’s going to come back!” Nancy yells at him, and you wince at the way she treats him. You know Steve will only listen to her, but she could at least be nicer about the whole situation. The three of you have had some time to process everything happening, Steve was thrown into the deep end. 
“You could be a little nicer,” you mumble, and Nancy sends you a glare. You raise your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” 
“Steve, you need to leave. Right now.”
He looks so overwhelmed and you give him a pitying look. He stares at you, reminiscent of the way he looked at you earlier in the alley, silently begging you to say something, anything, but again you can only shake your head at him. You won’t force him to stay, it wouldn’t be fair.
“Y/N, please…” He tries one more time to get you on his side, but you can’t. Frustrated by your lack of response, Steve groans. “Fuck it!” 
He runs out the door. 
You’ll admit that you’re a bit disappointed, but you also understand. Who in their right mind would stay? 
You and Nancy share a look before the lights begin to flicker again. Dread fills you. “Fuck…”
Jonathan is back by your side and he and Nancy again form a triangle with you, all your backs pressed together as you desperately try to locate the monster. You all stumble in a circle, searching for any sign of the thing, but there’s nothing. 
“Where is it?” Nancy gasps out.
“Just fucking show yourself!” You shout, just wanting this all to be over with. Your body is drained from living in a state of fear for so long. 
“Come on you son of a bitch!” Jonathan echoes your taunts. 
Suddenly the lights turn off and you’re left alone in complete darkness. Faintly you can hear the monster’s familiar growl approaching from behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, the air stands still. It’s back. Before you can react, it pounces on Jonathan. 
“Jonathan!” You scream alongside Nancy. Desperation takes over you and before you can even process what’s happening, you ignore the pain in your ankle and jump onto its back, stabbing repeatedly at it. 
Your blades only bounce off of its thick skin and the monster struggles to get you off. You hold on as tight as you can, shouting and kicking at it so that it can’t hurt him, but then it opens its mouth and for a horrifying moment you’re afraid that Jonathan will die.
“No!” You scream even louder than before and double down on your effort, stabbing and slashing as much as you possibly can to try and create some damage, but your arms are starting to ache and your ankle now feels like it’s on fire. 
“Nancy, its skin is too thick!” You sob out, nearing complete exhaustion. Then, just as you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, gunshots fill the room. 
Nancy begins to shoot at the monster and with the help of your blades, the two of you manage to pierce its skin, but even then the damage is minimal. It’s not enough, it won’t be enough. Tears stream down your face and the monster only gets closer to Jonathan, so you do the only thing you can think of: you crawl onto the top of its body and stab at its mouth. 
The monster lets out a blood curdling scream and flings you off of its back. You go flying across the room and land against the wall with a groan. All the air has been knocked out of you and your ribs are definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. Every part of you aches, but you manage to lift your head up and blearily process the monster now approaching Nancy as she continues to shoot at it, but it remains unphased. 
You crawl over to Jonathan, who is still laying on the ground. He’s motionless, and you fight everything within you not to break down and sob. You have to keep going, he has to be alive. As you reach Jonathan and frantically check for a pulse, the monster has now cornered Nancy and her gun seems to be out of bullets.
It’s over. You know it is. 
Right as you’ve accepted your fate, a screaming Steve Harrington wielding Jonathan’s bat once again manages to save the day. 
He hits the monster with the bat, effectively saving Nancy and you’re so impressed with his batting skills that you almost find him attractive with how easily he hits and dodges the monster. However, you file those thoughts away for later and finally manage to wake Jonathan up. He startles with a gasp and you check over his chest, scared he may have gotten pierced by the monster’s claws. 
“I’m fine, we need to help.”
You help each other up and you have to lean heavily against him due to your ankle. You bull riding the monster has only made the sprain worse; you’re too afraid to look down and see the damage that’s been done. 
As the two of you hobble over to Nancy, Jonathan looks at you. “Is Harrington really here right now?”
“Yes.”
“Lovely.”
Steve manages to lure the monster closer and closer to the bear trap and you watch him in awe. He’s quick footed and so sure of himself, the complete opposite of the boy from only ten minutes ago who had run out of the house screaming his head off. Now, Steve is swift with his hits and even twirls the bat in his hand to show off. The small act causes you to smile despite the horrible circumstances. 
By the time you and Jonathan are up and recovered, Steve has successfully led the monster straight into the trap. It clamps around the monster’s foot and it screeches, flailing around in the trap. Steve still has his bat held up, now frantically looking over to everyone else. “He’s in the trap! He’s stuck!”
“Jonathan, now!” Nancy screams, motioning over at him to use his lighter. 
Jonathan listens, using his free hand to flick the lighter on and then drops it onto the ground, right into the trail of gasoline. Immediately the monster goes up in flames, letting out horrible noises. You all shield your faces from the flames and Jonathan pulls you closer into him, still having yet to let go of you; you feel yourself sink into his side as you watch the monster wither away.
“Bug, I have to get the fire extinguisher, do you think you can stand on your own?” Jonathan asks you, his voice soft but urgent. 
You quickly nod and brace yourself for his departure. “Yeah, go.” 
He lets go of you as gently as possible before running to grab the extinguisher. When he has it, he orders everyone to get back and then smothers the flames. It takes a couple seconds, but eventually the fire gets put out, leaving behind an awful stench that makes everyone cough and gag. 
“Holy fuck,” you wheeze out, hunched over. “Burnt monster smells horrible.” 
“Yeah, no kidding.” Steve coughs out. 
Nancy covers her face with her jacket. “Where did it go?”
“It has to be dead.” Jonathan pants against the wall, looking like he’s three seconds away from passing out. “It has to be.”
“It fucking better be dead.” You mumble, hobbling closer to see what exactly was left behind. When you get closer and see the giant lump of melted skin all over the bear trap, you gag. “Oh god. Yeah, okay. It’s dead.”
Everyone sighs with relief. 
Then, you notice a Christmas light above you flicker on. Your heart stops, terrified that the monster has somehow survived, but then a second one turns on, then a third, until a path seems to be guiding you towards the living room. 
You all follow, cautious but curious, but these lights don’t feel threatening. There’s an energy to them, a comforting one that leaves you breathless. When you get to the living room, tears form in your eyes, now understanding what this all is. You look at Jonathan, who also seems to be thinking what you are. 
It’s Joyce, you know it is. 
“Mom,” he breathes out. 
You limp over to him and grab his hand. He turns to you, his eyes shining with an appreciation that he only ever has for you. He seems to be drinking you in, as if now realizing just how close the two of you came to dying tonight. You’re doing the same, thankful that he’s alive and standing next to you despite everything. There’s so much the two of you want to say, but as always the words aren’t needed. You understand each other perfectly, the balance between you centered once more. 
You put your head on Jonathan’s shoulder and he brings his hand to your hair to softly stroke it. The two of you stand like that for a second, breathing each other in and enjoying the tenderness after such a miserable day, before you slowly break apart and follow the lights going outside. 
The porch light flickers and Nancy stands next to you, watching it with uncertainty. “Where’s it going?”
“I don’t think it’s the monster.” Jonathan tells her. 
“It’s Will.” You don’t know how you know this, or what makes you feel so certain that you’re right, but somehow you know that you are. Somewhere deep within you, you feel the faint outline of hope flicker. 
A new silence surrounds the four of you at your words, and for once there’s hope between you all. Then, after a minute or so of silence, everyone begins to head back inside. Steve first, then Nancy, and finally Jonathan, leaving you alone with the crisp early winter air.
You take a deep breath, the cold air serving as a reminder that you’re alive. You let it fill your lungs until you can’t breathe in anymore, then you release the air through an exhale and feel your body settle into its exhaustion. This is the first time you’ve had a moment to yourself, so you let the exhaustion weigh upon you like a warm blanket. 
Will is safe, you can feel it. Despite everything, he’s safe and alive. Jonathan is too, still your best friend regardless of all the unspoken words between the two of you. Dustin is at the school with the kids, away from danger. Everything is okay, it’ll be okay. 
You let the moment wash over you, incredibly grateful to be lucky enough to have survived it all. Everyone you love and hold close to you is safe. You didn’t fuck up this time. God, you did it. 
Jonathan comes running out after a while, his face alight with joy and he crashes into you and picks you up to twirl you around. You laugh, loud and freely, and bury your face in his hair as he continues. “Bee, stop! Put me down, you dummy!” 
He does as he’s told, but doesn’t let go of you once your feet are on the ground. “My mom just called, they saved Will. He–he’s in the hospital, he’s okay.” 
You squeal and throw your arms around Jonathan again, squeezing him so hard that you’re afraid you'll hurt him, but he simply laughs and squeezes you just as tight. Tears come again, but this time they’re happy ones, and if it weren’t for your ankle you’d be jumping up and down right now. 
Jonathan’s laughter dies down and he cups your chin around his fingers so that you look up at him. “You did it.” 
“We did it, bug.” You softly push against him. You can’t take all the credit. 
His eyes are shining again, you haven’t seen him this happy in so long, you get lost in it. His face is lit up and his smile is back and you’re so in love with him that it claws against your throat and threatens to spill out in excess.
A beat of silence passes and Jonathan just soaks your presence in. You can’t quite read his face, but for once this doesn’t frighten you. You enjoy it, you relish in the fact that he’s still yours yet now forming into someone new and lovely and wonderful. 
“You never gave up.” He whispers at last, adoration in his voice. 
“Never.” 
“You never left me.” 
“Never.” You breathe out, the word so simple with such heavy weight behind it. 
The moment is so raw, so tender, and Jonathan is giving you that look again, the one that leaves you feeling like the sun itself has settled upon you and kissed your cheek. His eyes flick down to your lips and you smile, taunting him to lean in. He seems to understand, giving you his own teasing smile before leaning in. You lean in as well, every part of you buzzing, and right before your lips touch his, Steve bursts through the door.
“Jonathan, dude, do you have like, any food in the house?” He asks, completely oblivious to what he’s just interrupted. 
You and Jonathan break apart, laughing the tension away. He ducks his head down, clears his throat, and turns to Steve. “Sorry, man. Been a little busy this week for grocery shopping.”
Steve’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Oh shit, right. Sorry, okay. Uh… Well, I’ll be inside, I guess.” 
“We’ll be in shortly.” You tell Steve. You want to be frustrated by his timing, but something tells you that you’ll have all the time in the world to tell Jonathan how you feel. Now just isn’t the time. 
– 
The moment you arrive at the hospital, Jonathan sprints out of the car and straight towards the front desk to find out where Will is. You and Nancy follow behind, figuring you won’t be able to see Will for a while since you’re not blood related, so the two of you wish Jonathan goodbye and head towards the waiting room. 
Steve lags behind, obviously unsure where to go. Nancy immediately walks inside, but you notice his hesitation and nudge his shoulder. “I’m sure that the cut on your eyebrow needs to be looked out. Let’s go sit, okay?”
He sighs deeply. “Yeah, sure. Totally. Let’s go sit in a room full of people who probably hate me. No biggie.”
“Either come or don’t.” You shrug. “But the way I see it, you can start mending some metaphorical wounds while you wait in there.”
You don’t wait for Steve to figure out what to do, you know that Dustin is somewhere inside the waiting room and you’re buzzing to see him and the rest of the kids. You hobble inside, still very much in pain due to your injuries, but the moment you see your brother it all fades away. 
He runs into your arms and almost knocks you down with the force. Dustin clings onto you, mumbling over and over again how sorry he is. 
“Hey, wait a second,” you pull him away and crouch down, groaning a bit at the pain. “What are you sorry about? What happened?”
You look around the room and see everyone there. Nancy, Hopper, the kids, Steve, even Nancy’s parents, but there’s someone missing…
“El,” you breathe out. 
Dustin’s lip trembles and he begins to cry. You soothe him, grabbing his hand to bring him over to the seats and sit between him and Mike. Lucas is to the left of Dustin and you can’t help but notice how all the boys have dried tears in their eyes. 
When they’re ready, you have the kids explain what happened, and the more they tell you, the more guilty you feel. You should’ve been there for them, you left them all alone with that monster. You got Will back, and yet you’ve lost El as a result. It seems that no matter what you do, it’ll never quite be enough in the end. 
“It’s not your fault.” You tell Dustin, who still keeps apologizing. It was you who had left him in charge, you’re why El ended up vanquished by the monster. “You did everything you could. I shouldn’t have left you guys all alone, but I’m proud that you all took care of one another, okay?”
He sniffs and nods his head, but you know he doesn’t believe you. All the boys are somber; you know it’ll take time for them to recover. So, you do what you do best, you console them. You hold their hands and rub their backs and offer your spare comics in your bag. You do whatever you can to comfort them, to reassure them that they’re safe now and that no one will hurt them, but the light in their eyes has dimmed. 
They’ll never be the same again. 
And El… she had been so young, you don’t think you’ll ever not feel the heavy weight of guilt whenever you think of her. She had been so sweet and had trusted you. 
You should’ve been there, you wish you could’ve saved her.
Steve watches from his seat across from you. He listens in as you comfort the boys, taking care of them in such a natural way. He admires this softer side of you, one he hasn’t quite seen before. Sure, you’ve always been gentle and sincere, but watching you with the kids is something special in itself. You manage to get them to laugh, you offer them your shoulder to cry or sleep on, and you read aloud to them stories from your comics and Steve finds himself drawn towards your interactions with the kids. 
It’s sweet, something delicate and lovely, and Steve admires everything that you are. When he sees you awkwardly stand up and stumble over to the vending machines in the hall, Steve finds himself following after you. 
-
“Bitch!” You slam the palm of your hand against the vending machine in vain. The bag of chips hangs by the little spiral, taunting you. 
“That’s not a very nice word, Henderson.” 
You turn and see Steve, leaning against the wall with a fond expression. “You stalking me?”
“Nah, just wanted to watch you fight against a vending machine.”
“Ha,” you snort, turning back to the machine. “Unless you can help me get this last chip bag, you’re free to go sit back down.”
You mean it to be a joke, not expecting Steve to actually listen, but he’s at your side within a second. “Step back, let Steve handle her.” 
“What–”
Steve motions for you to move, so you reluctantly do as you’re told. Once you’re out of the way, Steve claps his hands, stretches out his neck, and then begins to aggressively shake the vending machine. 
“That is so not what you’re supposed to do–”
Suddenly the bag drops down from the hook and into the retrieval slot. Steve reaches inside, grabs the bag, and then dangles it in the air. “Tada!” 
You laugh and grab the bag from him. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was impressive.” 
“What can I say? I’m charming like that.” 
“Sure,” you smile at him, neither of you have moved yet. He’s still standing in front of you with that cocky smile on his face that’s slowly started to warm on you. You truly do understand why so many girls have fallen for him. If you ever saw Steve on the street, a stranger passing by, you’d fall a little bit in love with him yourself.
The thought startles you. “Well, uh…”
“Yes?” Steve raises his eyebrows at you, smiling. 
“Thank you for the chips. The kids haven’t eaten anything in hours, so…” You wave the three bags in your arms. “Gotta keep 'em fed.”
“Wait a second, there’s only three bags there. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”
“I only had enough money for the boy’s chips.” You say, feeling suddenly sheepish. “It’s fine, though. I’ll just eat a few pieces from them and wait until we get home.”
Steve scoffs. “Yeah, no.”
You frown at him, confused as he rustles through his jean pocket and pulls out his wallet. “I don’t want your money–”
He doesn’t listen and simply puts the cash into the vending machine and punches in a few numbers. Slowly, one by one, multiple different bags of sweets and chips come falling down within the machine. Once the last one has dropped, Steve bends down and offers the huge stash to you. 
“A feast, on me.” He winks at you and you can’t help but blush. 
“T–thanks, I guess.” You now carefully balance the rest of the snacks in your arms, the mound almost blocking your view. You’re not sure how much Steve just paid, but with all these snacks you and the kids will surely be well fed. 
Steve shrugs, and if you weren’t so tired you’d think the blush on his face was a real one. “It’s the least I can do, all things considered.”
His words give you pause. You know he’s referencing earlier today, back in the alley where fists slammed against skin and he had dragged you away from your best friend, but the memory feels like years ago. So much has happened since then, Steve has saved your life since then. 
“Steve…” Your ankle is starting to sting again from standing for so long, so you adjust your footing and try to figure out what you want to say. “I never got to thank you back at Jonathan’s.”
“Thank me?” His face scrunches in confusion in a sickeningly cute way that it almost distracts you.
“Yes. You saved my life tonight, Steve. I won’t ever forget that.” 
“Oh…There’s no need to thank me. I mean, what are friends for?” Steve freezes and clears his throat. “I mean, shit. We aren’t friends, you keep saying that. Sorry. You know what I mean.”
You know you shouldn’t, but you laugh. Honestly, after everything you’ve been through tonight with Steve, how can he possibly think the two of you aren’t friends?
“Why are you laughing?” Steve mumbles, confused. 
“Sorry,” you wheeze out, still uncontrollably laughing. “It’s just–I mean, dude! We almost died together, of course we’re friends now!”
“We are?” He looks like a little kid on Christmas day being given the gift he’s always wanted.
Your heart warms. “Yes, idiot.”
Steve starts moving around in what you can only guess is a happy dance. “Sweet! Does this mean I get a cool nickname, too?”
“A nickname?” A bag of chips threatens to fall from your arms, but Steve catches it before it can land on the ground and takes a few more snacks off of your hands. 
He readjusts the snacks he now has so that he can carry them easier. “Yeah, I mean. Byers has one, why can’t I?”
You don’t think you’ll ever stop feeling so thrown every time Steve mentions a small detail about you that he’s somehow come to notice. He has a habit of doing that, surprising you by how much he seems to pay attention to you. You thought that no one ever had before, but Steve continues to prove you wrong. 
“I’ll tell ya what,” you begin to walk back towards the waiting room, careful to step carefully to not drop anything or upset your ankle. “Let’s see how this ‘friends’ thing works out, then I’ll decide what nickname fits you best. Deal?”
Steve thinks for a moment and follows. “Hmm. I don’t know, I think I’ll need some type of precaution to make sure you give me a nickname in the end. I want one, Y/N. I’m so serious right now.”
You laugh at his pleading tone. “I can add you to my baking list. Whatever I bake, you’ll get a piece of it. Is that better?”
“God, yes!” Steve punches the air and cheers. 
You’re smiling so much that your face aches. You haven’t felt this light and carefree in so long, you’d almost forgotten what it’s like. The two of you don’t say anything else as you walk back to the waiting room, though Steve seems to slow down so that you don’t hurt your ankle keeping up, though you still let out a few winces and groans.
When you’ve arrived back at your seat, Steve sets down the snacks and runs off without another word. You’re confused by his sudden departure but don’t think much of it. Instead, you wake the boys up and show them your array of snacks, which wakes them up immediately. 
You’re mediating a fight between Mike and Lucas over who gets the bag of Chips Ahoy when a nurse interrupts. “Excuse me, ma’am. This young man over here told me I should come over and check out your ankle?”
The woman smiles and you look past her and see Steve sheepishly waving from his seat across from you. You’re stunned. Had he really gone out of his way to ensure your ankle gets treated?
You shake the thoughts out of your head and inform the woman all she needs to know. You tell her how you’d fallen and what type of pain you feel when you stand up. She inspects the ankle, her fingers cold but kind, and within a few minutes has diagnosed you with a sprained ankle. 
“All you can really do is stay off of it for a few weeks while it heals. I can go and get you some crutches, if you’d like?” She asks, rolling her gloves off and tucking them back into her pocket.
You nod. “If you wouldn’t mind, that’d be great.”
The nurse leaves with the promise of being back soon. In the meantime she instructs you to keep your ankle elevated, so you prop it against the coffee table and wait. You’re annoyed that you even have to have crutches, but then you think of Barb, of El. You’re luckier than you should be. 
– 
After an hour or so, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He spots you and Mike talking softly with each other and whistles over to catch your attention. When Mike looks up, Jonathan nods at him and the boy scrambles out of his seat. 
“Guys! Guys! He’s up, Will is up!” Mike shakes awake Lucas and Dustin, who had been cuddling on the seats fast asleep. “Will’s up!”
Once they’re awake, they quickly follow after Mike and the three boys are gone in an instant, sprinting down the hall towards Will’s room. Clearly they’re eager to see their friend. 
You do your best to get up as fast as possible, but your new crutches serve more as a nuisance rather than an aid. As you struggle to get up, somehow knocking over the mountain of snacks, Steve rushes over. 
He grabs the crutches and offers you his hand. “Here, careful.”
“Thanks,” you awkwardly accept his hand and get up. Jonathan watches from the doorway, a curious look on his face. Nancy does the same from her seat, not saying a word as she watches Steve gently help you navigate the waiting room with your injury. 
Jonathan holds the door open for you and takes over once you’re out the door. He grabs the crutches from Steve and is now the one to hold your hand, balancing you. “I can take it from here, Harrington.”
“Right, yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his head and coughs. “I’ll just… yeah.” 
He heads back inside and you and Jonathan watch as he leaves. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jonathan turns to you. “Are you two friends now or something?”
“We almost died tonight, bee. I think it’s safe to call Steve a friend now.”
Jonathan bites his lip, though there’s a far off look in his eye that leaves you feeling like you’ve missed something in the conversation. “Guess that’s true. Anyways, let’s get you to Will.”
By the time you make it to the room, the boys have swarmed around Will and are telling him everything he’s missed this week. He’s listening eagerly as they’re telling him about El, but when he sees you enter the room, his eyes light up and he tries to sit up. 
“Y/N!” Will calls out, pure excitement in his voice. 
You practically fall over in your haste to get to him. The second you’re close enough, you collapse onto his bed and give him the tightest hug you possibly can without hurting him. He feels so small against you, smaller than he’s ever felt before, and his sunken eyes and pale skin make you want to cry. 
But he’s alive and here and in your arms once again, happy and wonderful and safe. 
“Little bee,” you try not to cry, but tears are thick in your voice. “I missed you.”
Will manages a weak smile and shrugs, trying to play off the gravity of the situation. “Took a little detour home.” 
You laugh and ruffle his hair. “At least you came home, that’s all that matters.”
“Ahem,” Mike obnoxiously clears his throat, effectively ending your moment with Will. “You’re hogging Will, move over.” 
You laugh again and move away, allowing the boys to resume their millions of updates. You maneuver your crutches and walk over to Jonathan, who is standing by the door. He’s looking at the boys and Will with a soft smile on his face and you join him, standing side by side as you watch your boys finally come together again. 
Then, you feel a pair of eyes on you and you turn around. Nancy is leaning against the doorway behind you; she looks frail and distraught. There’s a sadness in her eyes as she watches the kids. You know that watching the boys reunite with their friend must remind her of Barb. She never got her happy reunion. 
You feel awful for the girl, so when her bittersweet smile drops and she turns to leave the room, you nudge Jonathan to make him aware of the situation. He sees her fleeing and begins to follow after her, but he stops. 
“What are you waiting for? Go.” You tell him, knowing it’s for the best. 
He shifts his weight, uncertain. “Are you sure?”
You’re not sure how to decipher the hidden meanings underneath those three words, but you find that you’re exhausted trying to keep reading between the lines. The feelings you’ve kept buried bubble to the surface, but you remind yourself that he loves Nancy, despite your weird moments of almost with him. There’s something there between you and Jonathan, you both can feel it, but it feels too raw and fragile to bring into the light. 
Without having to ask, you know that Jonathan will choose her. 
It breaks your heart, but you look over at Dustin and Will, who are laughing about some joke while Joyce gazes at them fondly, and you know that you can’t lose this. Maybe Jonathan knows this, too. The small family you’ve built together, it’s too precious to ruin. 
Joyce and your boys, you can’t lose them. They’re yours, and Jonathan is yours in a way that you can’t quite keep to yourself forever, but for now it’s enough. You approach Joyce, grab her hand and give her a tired smile, and the smile she returns to you reminds you that this is more than enough for you. 
You turn to Jonathan, pushing down your feelings once more in favor of appreciating the fact that Will is looking at you again, alive. “Go, bee.” 
Jonathan gives you one last look. You study his face for a moment, watching as it shifts from confusion, to hurt, then finally into acceptance. You’ll never be sure of what exactly he’d been thinking in that moment, but it seemed to have been enough for him, too.
He smiles, lets out a deep breath, and then leaves.
The door closes softly behind him. 
– 
A month later you find yourself in the passenger seat of Jonathan's car, tired from your shift at Bookstrordinary but excited to pick up your brothers. Somehow, even after missing three consecutive shifts last month, Mrs. Waters refused to fire you. 
But Jonathan? He hadn’t been so lucky. His boss fired him from the Hawk, but he hadn’t been too upset. He still drives you to and from work, so you suppose things could be worse. 
It’s late, but the two of you take your time driving to the Wheeler’s. Nothing much has changed between you two following Will’s reappearance. Sure, maybe you’re at his house more just to make sure Will is adapting well, but besides that everything seemed to go back to normal. 
Well, almost normal. 
Steve appeared at your job a few days after your conversation in the hospital. He had surprised you when you walked in, and when you asked what he was doing in a bookstore, Steve simply shrugged and said, “You can’t figure out my nickname if we don’t hang out, right? So, I’m here.”
He had become a regular at the store, stopping by whenever he could, and slowly the two of you became good friends. You’ve come to enjoy Steve’s presence, something that you never thought would ever happen. But he keeps you company as you work, he wanders around and explores the comics and books you recommend to him, and it’s nice having someone to goof off with. 
Plus, you did promise to add him to your baking list, so he’s also become your taste tester who happily eats any creation you bring in for him.
As for Nancy…
That was more of a sore subject for Jonathan. 
There was a few weeks following Will’s reappearance that you thought Jonathan and Nancy would get together, but it never happened. You’re not quite sure why, maybe it had something to do with Jonathan’s hesitation of approaching her, but it had crushed him when you and he saw Nancy and Steve making out in the hall as if nothing bad had ever happened. 
The way Jonathan’s face crumbled when he saw the couple only solidified that he’d never be yours, but you comforted him anyways. You told him he deserved better and then dragged him away. It’d taken him a few days, but eventually Jonathan was able to fake a smile again. 
You haven’t spoken about it since that day, but you leave your window open most nights for him to crawl in. The nightmares from that night fighting the monster plague you both, and the loneliness feels a little heavier than usual, but at least you have each other. 
“Jonathan! Y/N! Come in, the boys are downstairs.” Mrs. Wheeler answers the door, letting the two of you in. “And Y/N, I love that sweater on you.”
You thank the woman. “It was a gift from my mom. She claims I need to up my wardrobe, whatever that means.”
“Well, I think she has lovely taste.” 
“I’ll let you know you think so!” You open the basement door and motion for Jonathan to go down first. 
When he reaches the bottom of the steps, Jonathan makes a face. “Woah, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?”
“My vote is farting.” You say, hopping down the last step. Your ankle has mostly healed by now, but sometimes if you land on it wrong it makes a weird clicking noise followed by some pain, but you choose to pretend that it’s normal. 
The boys laugh and Lucas points at your brother. “Oh, that’s just Dustin. He farted.”
He begins making fart noises with his mouth and you and Dustin share a look. “Very mature, Lucas.”
The boy continues to sing and make fart noises and you can’t believe that this is your life. You’re standing in a smelly basement while picking up your stubborn brother all while simultaneously enjoying the fact that you get to call this your life. 
Jonathan calls over to Will to grab his things, so you follow suit and gently berate Lucas. “Alright, that’s enough. I gotta get Dustin home.”
“What, I thought I got to stay–”
“Jonathan is our ride and I made cookies, so let’s go.”
The moment the word “cookies” leaves your mouth, Dustin hops up and collects his things without any further argument. 
Once he’s ready, he and Lucas play wrestle as they say goodbye. While they’re distracted, you walk over to Mike and discreetly hand him a container full of double fudge brownies. You’d specifically made them for him, knowing they were his favorite, because you noticed how hard it’s been for him to adjust to El being gone. He really cared about her, anyone could see that. 
Mike’s eyes widen and he throws his arms around you. “Thanks, Y/N.”
You pat his back. “Anytime, Wheeler.”
Dustin breaks away from Lucas and runs up the stairs, so you take that as your cue to leave. 
Upstairs, Jonathan and Will are talking to Mrs. Wheeler. When they see you enter, the woman turns to you and asks if you’ll be bringing over your usual round of holiday treats. “Of course, I’ll get started on them tomorrow. You guys still like the sugarbread cookies?”
“If you make them, I think I’ll die of happiness.” Mrs. Wheeler informs you, and you laugh and tell her that you’ll have them ready as soon as possible. 
You bid her goodbye, Dustin now by your side, and you follow Jonathan and Will to the front door. Right before you open the door, Nancy calls Jonathan’s name from the top of the stairs. 
“Hey, Jonathan, wait up!” 
You, Dustin, and Will stand awkwardly in the back while Nancy hands Jonathan a wrapped gift and wishes him a merry Christmas. They share an awkward exchange since Jonathan hadn’t gotten her anything, but Nancy assures him that it’s fine. The interaction is painful to watch as Nancy doesn’t spare you a single glance. Dustin and Will look at you uncertainly when she kisses Jonathan’s cheek, but you ignore them and pretend to be interested in a Christmas decoration on the table.
This will never get any easier. 
“You ready?” Jonathan turns back to you guys, a blush on his face, and all you can do is silently nod. 
In the car you sit in the back with Dustin, who squeezes your arm in reassurance. He’s come to understand your complex feelings for Jonathan and has pieced together Nancy’s involvement. While he’s never outright consoled you, he’s shown his support in other small and wonderful ways. 
“Thanks,” you whisper, and Dustin smiles. 
“We all buckled up?” Jonathan asks as he starts up the car. 
“Yes, captain.” You mock salute. 
Will giggles at you before he sees the gift and looks up at Jonathan. “Can I open it?”
“Yeah, sure.” 
You and Dustin lean forward so you can see what’s in the box. When Will unwraps a beautiful, and no doubt expensive, camera, you gasp. The bitterness and hurt from moments ago vanishes. This gift is from Steve, you know it is, and something warm settles deep within your bones. 
You think about last month, how you’d told him not everyone can just afford a camera. 
Seems like Steve listened. 
Maybe he isn’t so bad after all. 
– 
A week later you knock on the Byers’ door, a giant container of your annual holiday cookies in your arms. 
“Bug!” Jonathan answers the door with an excited smile on his face. His new camera is in his hands and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s already taken a photo of you with your crooked earmuffs and oversized box of cookies.
He’s been using the camera ever since he got it. There’s now multiple pictures of you, always unaware or caught off guard, now hanging in the kitchen. It makes you blush to think about. 
“You didn’t even give me a chance to smile.” You complain, shoving your way inside. It’s snowing and you’re freezing. 
Joyce grabs the container to help you as soon as she sees you. “Here, honey. I’ve got it.”
You thank her and walk over to Will, who is drawing at the kitchen table. “Hey little bee. Whatcha drawing?”
“Hi, Y/N.” He slides over his picture and you’re shown a quick sketch of you and the party, this time fighting what appears to be a misshapen dog. “It’s a Dire Wolf, we’re fighting it in our latest campaign.”
“Ah, I see. Looks fluffy, though. Can’t possibly be a dangerous creature.”
Will rolls his eyes at you. “This is why you don’t play with us.”
“Careful, you’re sassing the girl who has just bravely ridden her bike through the snow to deliver her famous Christmas cookies.”
Will is out of his seat in an instant, running over to his mom, who has just placed the container on the counter. “Did you make the oatmeal raisin cookies?”
“Duh,” you snort. 
“And the chocolate chip?”
“I sure did.” You stand next to him and point at a new cookie you’re trying out this year. “This batch is a caramel banana one. Steve seemed to like it and I think it’s pretty good, so I hope you do too.”
Jonathan swoops over and kisses your head. “Of course we’ll like it, bug.”
“He’s right, you know. We always love whatever you make us, honey.” Joyce informs you, her mouth now full of cookies. 
“I’d hope so, this is like my fifth year making these for you guys. It’d be awkward if you hated my baking.” You say, now securing your earmuffs back on your head. “Anyways, I should get going. It’s Christmas, my mom won’t want me out too long.” 
Joyce looks out the window and frowns. “Did you really bike here in this weather?”
“It wasn’t too bad, I’ll be fine–”
“No. Jonathan, grab your keys and drive Y/N home.” She stares you down, daring you to argue with her, but you don’t. You know better than to argue with Joyce Byers. 
Once Jonathan has his keys, you say goodbye to everyone and wish them a merry Christmas. Jonathan throws your bike in his trunk and soon you’re off on the road. The drive is quiet but cozy. The snowflakes fall in a pretty spiral and there’s a soft song playing on the radio. 
Sometimes, if you close your eyes, you can pretend that the events from last month never happened. Will never disappeared. You never discovered that you love Jonathan. Nancy Wheeler never became friends with Jonathan, possibly something more had there been more time. When you close your eyes and sit still, you can imagine that your brother never has nightmares that wake him up screaming. That your heart doesn’t hurt when you make your best friend laugh. 
For a moment, you can forget. 
“Can we always stay like this?” You ask Jonathan softly, almost as if you’ll disturb the peace that winter has brought with its quiet snow. 
“Like what?”
You’re not sure how to express what you’re feeling. “This, us. Together.”
“Of course we’ll always stay like this.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. He says this like it’s a fact, the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Pinky promise me.” You hold your pinky up. You know it’s silly, but you need him to hear you, to understand what you’re saying.
Jonathan looks over at you. “Y/N–”
“Please, promise me, bee.”
He’s silent for a moment, seeming to understand the weight of everything between, around, and within the two of you. Then, he extends his pinky finger and wraps it around yours. “I promise, bug.” 
And you believe him.
[END OF SEASON 1]
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kikixreverie · 2 years ago
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Sweeter mornings
Roommate!Bucky x Female reader
Summary - After an intense night with your roommate, Bucky Barnes, you wake in his arms with the promise he had made to you only hours before playing on your mind, he definitely intends to keep it. Part 2 of sleepless nights.
Word count - 2.8k
Warnings - (18+) smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, friends to lovers, fluff.
A/N - Part 2 of sleepless nights is finally here! After many sleepless nights of my own I might add. Hopefully you all enjoy and it can live amongst it's famed sibling (my most liked/rebloged fic ever). Also this fic could probably be read alone if you haven't read part 1 but I still would recommend reading it for full context.
Sleepless nights (part 1)
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It was almost afternoon when you woke up. No loud alarm to jolt you awake, no rushing to get yourself dressed for work, it was still and calm, something you hadn't experienced much living in an apartment in Brooklyn.
You eyes fluttered open and closed, feeling rested for the first time in a long time, you'd finally slept longer than 5 hours in weeks, though well into the late morning as you could tell.
Thank god for weekends... and thank god for Bucky.
You peaked your eyes open at the reminder of him, and the reminder of what had occurred between you last night, and despite the soothing warmth that surrounded you, for a moment, you worried he would have already fled, but with a gentle tug of an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, your worries were mere worries.
Bucky had stayed.
You didn't let yourself dwell on what that could mean for the both of you, instead you snuggled into his warmth, resting your own hand on the metal one he had on your stomach, pushing away any insecurities and letting yourself enjoy this while you had it.
His legs were entangled with yours under the duvet, nose pressed against the nape of your neck, his other arm under the pillow you rested your head on. You were surrounded by him in the best possible way, that touch-starved part of you basking in the affection of his embrace.
Your eyes fluttered closed again, sinking into the bed when Bucky shifted behind you, his nose pressing against that sensitive spot below your ear, nuzzling slightly before kissing he kisses you there, soft and slow.
You couldn't help but release a pleased sigh, biting your lip when he continued his kissing, trailing his lips down your neck, then kissing your shoulder. You turned in his arms, facing him, and Bucky squeezed your hip in appreciation when you didn't waste any time with kissing him properly, placing your hand on his cheek to rub your thumb across his cheekbone.
Bucky shifted his hand to your thigh, grabbing above your knee to hitch your leg over his, effectively pressing your body against his, and you could already feel his arousal.
You almost felt guilty as you recalled last night, remembering that you had gone to sleep before returning the favour, leaving Bucky to deal with himself.
You wondered if he had managed to get himself off, but considering he had cuddled up to you last night in the same position you woke in, you doubt he had the chance. Which is why you didn't hesitate to push him onto his back, straddling his stomach as you kissed him harder.
You were both out of breath, lips kiss bitten and cheeks heated when Bucky pulled away from you, panting with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed.
You were in a similar state, though you tried to force down a smile when you realised that you had somehow managed to get a super solider out of breath, something you knew didn't happen often.
"I should get you some food, it's the afternoon." Bucky said in a raspy, unbelievably sexy, morning voice, the first words spoken since last night. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you instantly recalled the image of his head between your legs last night, and huffed a laugh at the almost shy look he had on his face now.
"I'm not hungry." You replied, pouting slightly, shifting yourself backwards to sit further on his hips, your ass brushing against his hard cock still confined to his boxers, and a rush of air slipped past Bucky's lips, quickly reaching for your waist and holding you in place.
"Honey, I-" He stopped himself, getting distracted by the sight of your bare chest above him, before dragging his eyes back to yours again, his cheeks pinker. He licked his lips as he failed to regain his focus, furrowing his brows to try to seem more stern, "You need to eat."
"And I will, after you fulfil that promise you made to me last night." You reminded him, kissing his soft lips again, watching how his eyes fluttered closed and he lifted his head to follow your lips when you pulled back, desperate for it to continue. His hips lifted of the own accord from the mattress when you crawled down his body, trailing kisses as you went, just as Bucky had to you last night. You thought it only fair for you to torture him the same sweet way he did you.
You looked up at him when you reached his boxers, watching as he wet his lips with his tongue while you lowered yourself to kiss the dip between his abs, biting your lip in appreciation of the sight of the happy trail that led from his navel, down to where his boxers covered him.
You smiled up at him when Bucky finally lifted his hips slightly to let you slide them off.
God was he a pretty sight.
His cock was desperately hard, already leaking and a deep flush of red from the tip down, Bucky hissed at the sensation of the cool air alone against him, you could only imagine how sensitive he'd be for your tongue.
You gently took his cock in your hand, watching Bucky's face the entire time, not wanting to take your eyes away from him.
As you pumped him from base to tip, he instantly lifted his hips, whispering curses under his breath, you wondered how long it had been since he last came, by the sight of him, it was a while.
"You okay, Buck?" You asked sweetly, continuing to pump your hand on his length slowly, before rubbing your thumb across the slit at the tip, spreading his desire down his cock, using it to make the soft glide of your hand smoother.
He nodded, his lips parted, watching you with bated breath. You lowered your head closer to him, and Bucky fought with that desperate urge to lift his hips again, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth when you kissed the tip of him, and again, and again and again. Kisses peppered across his cock until he was practically begging.
"Please, honey."
You throbbed between your legs at the sound of him begging you, calling you honey with a voice sweeter than the stuff. You squeezed them together to relieve the ache before you gave him what he needed. How couldn't you?
He moaned when you finally took him into your mouth, teasing the tip of him with your tongue before taking him deeper and hollowing your cheeks around him, your own moan vibrating around his cock when his flesh hand found its way to your head, not forcing any movement, only encouraging you at your own pace.
His body seemed to be out of his control, and Bucky never expected that feeling not to fill him with fear, though in this moment, all he could focus on was the feeling of your hot, wet tongue against his cock, that lust in your eyes when you looked up at him through your lashes.
He didn't think much before he said it, just suddenly filled with the desperation to be as close to you as possible, to be inside of you, make up on that promise.
"Can I fuck you, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice still rough and his breath uneven. He let out another sweet sound when you swirled your tongue around him before pulling your mouth away, nodding in agreement as you quickly crawled back up his body and crashed your lips to his, Bucky's hand cupping your face as he leant up on his elbow, meeting you halfway, kissing you senseless as you situated yourself above his cock and reached between you to sink down onto him, already wet and throbbing with need.
Bucky's eyes rolled back as you slowly sank onto him, tight and wet and fucking perfect. His hand slid between your thighs to gently rub your clit, not wanting you to experience any discomfort, and you moaned against his lips, pressing your forehead to his when you were finally seated, Bucky's cock buried deep inside you.
"Fuck." He breathed, waiting patiently for you to start moving, and when you started rocking your hips, grinding yourself down against him, he smiled as he bit his lip, before he used his other hand to grip your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger, guiding your open mouth to his.
"Bucky-" You rasped, moaning as he teased his tongue into your mouth, his flesh hand still focused on rubbing your clit, his cock barely moving inside you, only keeping you nice and full.
"You close already, sweetheart?" He joked, though the words held no judgement, he was smitten with himself, pulling back to watch your face contort as you edged closer and closer to an orgasm, his fingers moving faster, your hips bucking against him, which only made his cock nudge a spot deep inside you that made you see stars. You were clenching around him and Bucky groaned as you did so. "C'mon honey, cum on my cock."
Your head tipped back as you fell over the edge, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves as Bucky guided you through it, rubbing your clit until it had passed.
"Good girl. You're so perfect, doll." Said Bucky, giving you a few more seconds to recuperate as he kissed down your neck.
When he pulled back to look at you again, that devious smile you had seen a glimpse of last night had returned to his face, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, his metal hand moving to your thigh, dimpling your flesh with the gentlest of squeezes. You almost asked him to squeeze harder.
You bit your lip at his words, huffing a laugh at the state of yourself as you came down from your high, though you were still incredibly hyper-aware of Bucky's cock still inside you, throbbing with need, along with your heart racing in your chest.
You were taken by surprise when he flipped you over, your back hitting the bed with him looming over you, pure, wanton lust in his blue eyes.
You moaned when the movement made the tip of his cock nudge against a spot inside of you that brought a jolt of pleasure, and Bucky seemed to appreciate the sound, watching you as he rolled his hips forward, so perfectly deep inside you.
"C'mon, Buck." You begged, that need for him to finally take you rising steadily in your core.
His eyes darkened and he took your wrists in his hands, pressing them into the mattress above your head with his right hand, as his left travelled to your chest, slowly rubbing your nipple with his thumb.
"You can ask me nicer than that, honey. C'mon pretty baby, say it again. Ask me better. Tell me what you want." He practically purred, his voice liquid honey. His head dipped to lick the nipple he hadn't yet paid attention too, looking up at you when he took it into his mouth, and you arched into his touch, every word that comes out of his mouth only building your desire.
With a mouth like that, you would do virtually anything he asked you to.
"Please, James. I need you to fuck me. God, please, I need it so bad." You whispered breathily, not even comprehending that you had called him by his first name, something you had never done, and he all but growled.
His lips were on yours instantly, tongue dipping past your lips as he finally released your hands and used his arm to wrap around your thighs, just about bending you in half as he finally began to thrust into you, starting slower than you knew he wanted to.
When you threw your head back and cried out at the satisfaction of it, Bucky knew he would be okay to fuck you harder, and before you knew it, his hips were slamming into yours hard, the friction of his cock rubbing against your walls and finding home deep inside you had you arching your body into him, your hands grasping his back, nails scratching into his skin, you almost felt like you would cum again already.
Bucky was just as much of a mess as you, sinful noises escaping past his parted lips, his eyebrows furrowed tightly as he chased his pleasure, dizzy with need, and enraptured with the feel of your hot, wet cunt clenching around him, a perfect fucking fit.
He couldn't help but watch you, your teeth holding your bottom lip, eyes closed.
He released your legs so that he could kiss you again, moaning into your mouth when your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling gently.
Holding himself up with his right arm, his left hand drifted to your chest again, cupping your breast as he tugged at your lip with his teeth, before gliding his thumb across your nipple, the gentle stimulation a perfect contrast to the way he fucked you harder than you ever knew you desperately needed.
You could barely keep yourself quiet, the experience of having sex with your roommate, whom you've been obsessing over for months, was beyond your comprehension. You knew Bucky had already ruined any prospect of another man, not that you would ever want another man anyway.
It was rough and needy, a sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, almost feral but god knows the both of you needed it. There was still somehow a softness at the same time, the subtle touches felt just as intense as everything else.
Neither of you wanted it to end, but neither of you had much hope of holding out for much longer.
Bucky was already surprised he'd lasted this long, having technically accidentally edged himself last night, and with the way your mouth was on him earlier, he was absolutely intoxicated with your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good." Bucky husked, resting his forehead on yours so that you could both breath once you'd run out of air. You opened your eyes to meet his as he continued to fuck you into the mattress, your second orgasm creeping closer and closer. "Do you feel good, sweet girl? Look how good you take me, fucking perfect."
Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning at every sensation, gasping at his words, seconds away from coming undone, "James, please."
"Fuck, sweetheart, open your eyes. That's it, look at me, baby. Are you gonna cum?" He asked, though he knew the answer, your legs had wrapped themselves around his waist, your pussy clenching down on him perfectly. He certainly wouldn't be far behind.
You nodded, staring into those blue eyes with your own half lidded, your lips parted and kiss bitten, his metal hand held your jaw gently, only inches away from where he could be holding your throat instead, though you fought the urge you had to move his hand, knowing it might cross a line for him. That didn't stop you from imagining him doing it anyway, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing just enough to not be uncomfortable, but still make your heart beat faster in your chest.
Your orgasm hit you then, washing over you with an intensity you were learning apparently came with Bucky's touch. Your hips lifted to meet his, his cock so deep inside you as you clenched down on him.
Bucky came with a broken moan, rolling his hips into yours with deep, shallow thrusts, painting your walls with his cum.
It soothed a burning heat deep inside him, the both of you completely blissed out in the afterglow as you came down, catching your breath as his head dipped to rest on your collarbone.
Your hands were in his hair as he relaxed on top of you, though he still held most of his own weight as to not completely squish you.
"Fuck, Bucky." You breathed, smiling and shaking your head as you played with his hair.
He lifted his head and looked at you, that puppy dog look returning as though he hadn't just fucked you like his life depended on it only minutes ago.
"You okay?" He asked, chiding himself mentally that he hadn't checked up on you already, too lost in the ongoing sensations, and the fact that he was still inside of you.
You nodded, smiling, your fingers drifting to dust across his cheeks, tracing his features gently with your fingertips, the soft touches soothing not only Bucky but yourself too. He closed his eyes at the gentle touch, then kissed you, softer, but somehow more intense, and with something in his eyes when he pulled back that made you blush like you weren't naked beneath him.
"You're the best roommate ever." You joked, raising your eyebrows at him and holding his face in your hands, Bucky laughed softly.
"Well, I was hoping I could be something more than that?" He replied, tilting his head at you, smiling when you nudged your nose against his.
A part of you was still insecure, worried that he didn't like you in the way you did him, but another part of you told you to look at the way he was looking back at you, soft, sweet eyes, and his hands hadn't left your skin all morning, unable to tear them away. You'd both talk properly soon, and you were hopeful of how that conversation would go.
"Hm, I think that could be a good idea, Mr Barnes." You kissed him again, though he pulled away before you were done.
A smirk grew on his lips and the sight made your stomach flutter. He shifted impossibly closer to you. "You keep talking like that, sweetheart, and I'm gonna have to fuck you again."
His ability to switch between puppy dog and cocky bastard was definitely going to be something you were gonna have to get used to, but it wasn't something you didn't appreciate, you smirked all the same, fingers brushing through his soft hair, "You'd be more than welcome to... Mr Barnes."
He laughed quietly, "Oh I will, darling. Still gotta get some food into you first though."
You rolled your eyes playfully, though didn't disagree with him, your light dinner last night did not account for the intense cardio you did not expect yourself to be doing this morning. Nodding along to his words, you kissed him again, wrapping your limbs around his body to pull him as close as possible. You just couldn't get enough.
The kiss ended but Bucky stayed close, whispering against your lips, "If you're a good girl, I'll take you on the kitchen counter."
You couldn't have gotten out of bed and into the kitchen quicker, leaving Bucky smiling to himself in your bed.
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cobaltperun · 6 hours ago
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Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics
5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't
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(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader
Masterlist
Word count: 3.1k
Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.
But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.
This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.
"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.
“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.
“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.
“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.
“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”
She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.
Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.
“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.
Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.
Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.
“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.
“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.
“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.
“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.
“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.
“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.
About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.
“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.
“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.
~X~
The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.
“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.
You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.
“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.
She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.
“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.
You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.
Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.
“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?
“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.
She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.
You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”
“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.
~X~
“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.
“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?
“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.
She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.
“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.
“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.
“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.
And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.
~X~
It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.
Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.
“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.
“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.
“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.
“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.
Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.
~X~
“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.
“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.
“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.
“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.
“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.
“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.
~X~
You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.
You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.
“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.
At least you hoped she would.
You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.
“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.
“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.
“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.
“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.
“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.
“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”
Unlike you, she had a way to flee.
But that meant you would be alone with Sam.
“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.
“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.
“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”
Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.
“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.
“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.
Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.
“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.
“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.
“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.
“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.
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podcastenthusiast · 5 months ago
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Dead Boy Detectives Fic Rec List
Mostly payneland <3 I will update as I find more fics.
“I don’t like this, mate,” Charles muttered.
The Things We Can, and Cannot, Do by MDJensen
Paul Rowland is dead. It's not just that, though.
Oh, Lonely Bones, Have You Forgotten? by DontOffendTheBees
“No,” Edwin agreed, gravely. “Nor do I.”
Frankly, taking this case was probably an unwise decision. The meagre payment offered by the sickly-looking ghost of the old groundskeeper would fall far, far short of the emotional cost of the expedition. And yet when Edwin had looked over to Charles and met his eyes, there had been no doubt, no hesitation. Perhaps it was the notion of unfinished business; that mysterious force that compelled ghosts to sites of personal trauma as sirens compelled sailors to the unforgiving rocks. Perhaps they were both mere gluttons for punishment.
Either way, they were here now. It was with heavy hearts and wary eyes that on the evening of June twenty-sixth, Edwin and Charles – along with Crystal – set foot once more on the grounds of St. Hilarion's School for Boys.   In which a very, very old case is re-opened.
Mom Says It's My Turn to Jump on the Grenade by RoseGanymede95
Charles tried to pay attention, because Edwin was really upset, and Charles still didn’t understand why, and it seemed like this might be important. It was just, they’d been at this for a while, and Edwin kept asking him the same questions and not leaving him time to answer, so. His mind may have wandered a bit to how he would reinforce the next cricket bat. His attention snapped back to the present when Edwin said, “This can’t happen. You can’t risk this, I can’t be the reason you risk it. You have to move on.” “Move on?” Charles repeated blankly. “Move on from what?” “From here, Charles!” Edwin shouted, suddenly furious again, suddenly shouting even though his eyes were filled with tears. “You have to go with Death! You have to leave!” “I don’t want to go with Her,” Charles said, nonplussed. “Fine, that’s your business, but you can’t keep hanging around me!” Edwin snapped. Charles’ world suddenly tilted on its axis, sending everything askew. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice small, his heart wide open and exposed.
Let me bleed instead of you by mellxncollie
The question rang like a cracked bell in what had only just become someplace Edwin had started to contemplate calling home. “What was Hell like?” - Charles and Edwin keep secrets from one another. The list isn't long, but it's not empty. Eventually, they start tumbling out in soft whispers, in tear-reddened eyes, in shocked expressions, in choked up phrases.
Or, 40 years and 8 secrets.
Indelible by Arisprite
Charles is feeling a lot and also not much at all in the immediate aftermath of returning from Hell. He also can tell Edwin is wearing thin from holding himself together. Who wouldn't be, after that? It's okay, though. Charles can take care of him, and he always always will.
Done Running by Asidian
Charles has gone a peculiar off color, all the blood blanched from his cheeks. He glances to the arm, and then back up to Edwin's face. "Any break's a bad break, innit?"
"Some have more drawbacks than others," says Edwin, detached and scholarly. "For instance, unless the nerves are compromised, it is possible to make use of the injured arm in cases of extreme –"
"Bloody hell," breathes Charles.
Joi de Vivre by olympus_mons
Edwin Payne crawls out of Hell twice. Somehow, his problems begin in the aftermath.
so many ways to give in by piilu
“I think there’s something really wrong with me, mate,” Charles sobs, the remains of the bat falling from his hand. ---- Charles struggles with his anger issues. Again.
A Room of One's Own by DarkStars (Worlds_Okayest_Goalie)
Crystal is so tired of watching Charles and Edwin stare longingly at each other. OR 5 times Crystal tells Charles and Edwin to get a room and 1 time they do.
Shape Me by dearheartdont
At least twice a year Charles and his mum packed their cases and caught a train to Birmingham, leaving his dad behind with a freezer full of carefully labelled Tupperware.
Charles Rowland and his relationship with his extended family and heritage.
(Part of a series of snapshots of Charles’ life in the 1980s.)
half of my soul, as the poets say by thegirlofthorns
Edwin existed, just as Charles had. Charles, who occupied a space in loving memory. A much-deserved space – Edwin would have wanted it no other way – but the core of him wanted to scream that he had been here, too. He never would be again, but he had lived, and he had breathed and laughed and moved with too much frippery and frill to continue on breathing, and he had been a whole person, once. And it had not mattered. So looked at CHARLES ROWLAND through tears, allowed himself to. Even Charles's hammer on metal on stone was not enough to dull the pain, but it was enough to remind him that he was still here, even if he was no longer living. It was an awful sound, a jarring sound, and tears shone in Charles’s eyes as he focused intently on carving out the A in his surname, but it was something. They were there, together, and they were feeling.
- Or, Charles finds Edwin's unmarked grave and will, in the lightest of terms, not be having it.
Terrible, Horrible, No Good, and Very Bad by hibye
It was about the torture. The torture he was experiencing presently, and also every minute of every hour of every day, standing alongside Edwin Payne and saying nothing out of the ordinary at all.
O Spirit From The Great Beyond! by InTwainFiction
Edwin is ignoring Charles.
They haven't spoken in almost twelve hours, and all because of a little incident involving some puppies. Yes, said incident may have been Charles' fault, but he has apologised a million times.
Charles is getting desperate to find a way to get Edwin to talk to him again, and a little walk away from the office provides just the thing Charles needs.
He hopes it will get Edwin to talk to him, but at the very least it will be a laugh.
a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches
“The house is… sad,” the client responds.
“Again, we can’t help with selling the house. Maybe try some decorations. That’ll brighten the old place up,” Charles suggests.
“No, you misunderstand. The house doesn’t look sad. The house is sad. It is depressed.”
“How do you figure?” Edwin says, sitting up in his chair now that the client has said something potentially interesting.
or A new case brings up old feelings, and maybe something more.
A Heaven Like They Talk About by LikeMmCookies
After managing to piss off yet another witch, Edwin and Charles are cursed as punishment. Bewildered, powerless, and lacking answers, they face their greatest challenge yet: being human again.
With Edwin doing novel things like picking out shampoo and wearing different pants, Charles finds his body reacting in strange ways to his best friend. He questions if these are new feelings, or if they'd been there all along.
But the biggest question remains - do they stay alive or do they find a way to go back?
being unknown by The_IPRE
Edwin does know Charles, or at least he likes to think that he does. He knows that Charles is far better with the clients than he is, quick to offer a smile or extend sympathy while Edwin is far more interested in delving deeper into the details of the case. He knows that Charles has a wicked swing with his cricket bat, but prefers to leave that as a second resort when he believes there's a way for them to come to a compromise. He knows that Charles chooses to hope for the best from people, even after having seen the worst they have to offer–and in fact, having been killed by it.
As Charles sits in front of him, the strain in his shoulders at odds with the easy grin on his face, Edwin wonders how much of his friend he is failing to see. -- 5 times Edwin didn't press the issue, and one time he did.
The Kind of Light That Means Just Love (When My Baby Smiles at Me) by DontOffendTheBees
“Charles,” Edwin admonished, gently closing his book with a finger tucked between the pages to hold his place. “I have asked you to stop fooling around with that contraption and get some work done.”
“I have been!” Charles defended, gesturing broadly at the higgledy-piggledy array of items around him. Evidently, taking stock of the contents of his bag of tricks was an expansive task. “Taking a break.” He snatched the small square of paper from the Polaroid camera and began to shake it with abandon.   In which Charles partakes in some amateur ghost photography, and Edwin (fondly) bemoans the futility of the exercise.
The Good Left Undone by plutosheaven
Help comes from unlikely places when Edwin is once again faced with a threat worse than death.
the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero (ahyperactiverhero)
Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.
Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.
XXX
“Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”
“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.
“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.
Form 239, Schedule L by sanctuary_for_all
At the top of a small pile of papers was a copy of Form 239, Schedule L, filled out with achingly familiar handwriting. At the top, the word "Approved" was stamped in large red letters.
This Darkness, Enduring by kickingtheladder
“Your son is gone,” they tell her. “It was… an Act of God.”
She cannot think of a single thing to say for a very long moment. And then she has many things to say, most of which are not at all appropriate for polite company. --- Edwin Payne's mother, before and after.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by kickingtheladder
“Your son is gone," they tell her. "He ran away." She doesn't say anything. --- Charles Rowland's mother, afterwards.
dreaming of the things you said / hoping that it's meant by ohmyfuckinggod420
Edwin turns away with a deep breath, ignoring the fluttering in his stomach. His non-existent, ghostly stomach. It seems so ridiculously cruel and on theme for his current situation. Not only is he in love with his best friend, and not only does his best friend not love him back, but he’s feeling things that he shouldn’t be feeling on top of things that he physically should not be able to feel. or
The gang is back in London. Niko is gone, Crystal is on the cusp of a breakdown, Charles is still a flirt, and Edwin is... trying his best.
Oh, and he keeps feeling his pulse. As a ghost. A very dead ghost.
The trouble really never ends.
the ghost of the past that you live in by ObsessedWithFandom
It didn’t start as much. As anything, really. Charles noticed him in the hallways only because he was new, which was rare in Year 11, and because he smiled shyly whenever Charles said hi. Aysar, he’d introduced himself, and Charles liked the way the syllables formed in his mouth. He wanted to be Aysar’s friend.
Or: five boys Charles didn't date, and one he did.
Aftermath by sophisticatedyet
“What are you humming?”
Charles’ polo muffled his question, and the pause before Charles answered was so long that Edwin wondered if he hadn’t heard him at all. But then he said, "A lullaby.”
The answer made Edwin smile bemusedly. “Why? I can't fall asleep.”
“Yeah, duh, I know. It's just meant to soothing.”
“Oh.” Edwin rested his head back against Charles’ chest. “I suppose I do feel quite soothed.”
Dance the Night by Gruoch
“What is that?” Crystal asks, looking Edwin up and down with an expression of abject befuddlement that borders on disgust.
“It is my disguise,” Edwin replies a little stiffly in response to her tone. “You told me to wear a disguise.”
“You look like Margaret Thatcher,” Crystal says flatly. “You’re going undercover at a nightclub, not a library. This—“ she plucks at Edwin’s long tweed skirt, her lip curling— “is not appropriate nightclub attire. You’re gonna attract too much attention.”
“I thought attracting attention was the point of this ludicrous exercise,” Edwin snaps back.
“Yes, the right kind of attention,” Crystal stresses. “This—” she waves a hand broadly at him—“will get the wrong kind of attention.”
~~
In which the gang returns home to discover something sinister stalking London’s party scene after dark, Edwin lets his hair down, Charles’ confidence is shaken, and Crystal pursues a new lease on life (and hopefully doesn’t die in the process).
Everywhere, Everything (wanna love you) by WildCookieKeef
Freedom, as it seems, is suffocating. Decades spent running away from death herself and yet now more than ever does Edwin feel restless. Hell is behind him for the second time. He might’ve escaped his fate of eternal torture, but rabidly approaching are revelations he would’ve kept buried for far longer.
He’d never be so flustered and disorganized if it hadn’t been for Crystal or the Cat King or Monty or the Night Nurse or that horrible witch Esther or Simon, god not Simon, or practically reenacting old Greek tales with his best mate or. . .
No. It’s no one’s fault but his own. If he could sleep he’s sure he’d have nightmares.
Of what? There’s lots to choose from, but he can just feel it. Maybe some spirit malady has taken root in his body. He can sense the tension under his skin. Aches of pain that he knows aren’t physical.
He never should’ve told Charles. What was he thinking?
or After the end of S1, Edwin reasons that Charles rejected his confession and fears the worst while trying to suffer silently. Charles is very bad at letting Edwin suffer in peace.
the eight layers of hell, reversed by Zairielon
There's a lot that Edwin and Charles don't talk about. Frankly, after 30 years together, you don't have to say much for the other person to get the point. But Port Townsend and Crystal and Niko knocked their dynamic off-kilter, and by the time they return to London and finally get back to "normal," "normal" has changed. "Normal" is now Crystal's bright laughter, Niko's earnest affection, and Edwin's faint smiles. "Normal" is an unnameable ball of emotions tangled up in Charles' chest. "Normal" is Edwin looking at him, and Charles hearing those words all over again.
Charles, I'm in love with you.
OR, Charles figures out what it means that Edwin is the only person in the world he'd run into Hell for.
When We Walk Together We Tend To Walk Alone by UneducatedAuthor
She’s never unexpected, but she’s always a surprise. And when Charles meets her, it's nothing like the nightmare he's built up in his own head, being split away from Edwin and cursed to an afterlife without him. She's kind and gentle and familiar, and she gives him a chance to say goodbye to his mother.
Or, the one where Charles meets Death. They have a lot to talk about. But it's okay. They have time.
it's you that i hold on to by lrvzender
A pair of lips press shakily on his temple. Charles Rowland’s blood definitely runs hot, Edwin decides, definitely.
“You’re not asking anything, mate. But you have to understand that you are worth saving, a thousand times over. You are worth knowing, Edwin.”
Something bigger than the whole, wide sky. Something bigger than death, perhaps.
(where Edwin does not ask to be known, but Charles knows anyway)
and your song, it haunts me like hunger does the crow by kay_cricketed
After they return to London, Charles notices an escalation in people approaching Edwin with their attentions. Which is fine! It's not that Charles is jealous. He wants Edwin to be happy and to have a chance at a fulfilling relationship, yeah? The problem is, Charles is aware that Edwin is unpracticed with these kinds of emotions and other people, and it would be very easy for someone to take advantage. And that’s not going to happen, not on Charles’ watch.
To make matters worse, the admirers are getting a little too intense. And Charles is starting to suspect there's more at work than everyone realizing his best mate is brills.
(Or: In which the damage to Edwin's soul across years of torture has had an unusual effect, and Charles needs to fix it before he's compelled to violence. Again.)
trína chéile, le chéile, claochlaithe / entangled, together, transformed by theroyalsavage
Edwin Payne and Charles Roland are not Orpheus and Eurydice. They are not tragic figures of myth, children of gods and spirits, immortalized in verse by the poets of old. They’re nothing special at all – just two boys too stubborn to move on. With that said, however… Edwin must admit that there are certain similarities.
Came up from that lake of fire by ghostinthelibrary
"Are you a zombie?” Niko peers into Edwin’s eyes. “Because the Night Nurse told me zombies exist. Do you hunger for brains, Edwin?”
“Hardly.” Remembering being splattered with gray matter in the not-so-distant past, Edwin shudders. He cannot imagine consuming it. “I’m not a zombie.”
“What about a vampire?” She almost looks excited by the prospect. “We’re only a couple of hours from Forks. It would be perfect!””   When they’re caught during their escape from Hell, Charles and Edwin have no choice but to make a deal: they have one hundred days to find and entrap a powerful, malevolent spirit, or both of their souls are forfeit. But when they’re both temporarily restored to living bodies to aid in their search, being alive brings with it a host of new feelings, which neither of them know how to cope with, especially as their deadline looms closer and their quarry proves increasingly dangerous.
Unbreakable by Asexual_Enjolras
Edwin feels as though he owes Charles an apology because he cannot offer support to his best friend in the same way that Crystal can. And Charles tells him exactly where to stick that apology the moment he does.
Or, Edwin feels like he is broken and Charles does not agree.
after the insects have laid their claim by lolotr
“Where are you buried, do you’ve any idea?”
“My body was never found,” he replies softly. “There is a memorial marker next to my parents’ graves, but my remains are not there.”
The idea is so horrifying that it stuns Charles into silence for a couple seconds. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?”
Edwin’s shoulders tense. “The whole thing is bloody tragic enough as it is.”
Grabbing his wrist, Charles begins marching them back in the direction of the pond they used to get here. Edwin doesn’t resist, but he does argue, because of course he does. “Charles, where are we going?”
“St. Hilarion’s. We’ve got a new case, don’t we?”
Hold This by RoseGanymede95
“Alright, listen,” Charles said, after trying not to think at all for at least five minutes. “Hear me out.”
“Any ideas?” Edwin asked, not looking up from his page.
“It’s just. What would actually happen if you cut my hand off?”
Edwin jerked his head up so fast, Charles wondered that he didn’t brain himself against the stone wall. He looked more offended than he had when he found out about the live snake in Charles’ bag.
“What the hell kind of a question is that?” He hissed.
“I’m not saying we should do it!” Charles backpedaled. “I’m just curious! These cuffs make us proper solid, don’t they? We could probably lop it off and get me out.”
“No,” said Edwin emphatically. “We are not discussing this. I don’t want you getting any ideas and chewing your own arm off like a trapped weasel.”
“Not my whole arm, just my hand.”
the start of something beautiful (the spoiler-free remix) by KiaraSayre
Four cases from the Dead Boy Detectives casebook, featuring amnesia, corporeality, a time loop, and a chill hang sesh.
If I'm Batman, You're Robin by ahyperactivehero
Charles misses a lot of things from life. One of those is the movies. Edwin volunteers to go with him.
XXX
“Batman Returns?” Edwin asked, reading the title. “What sort of creature is a Batman?”
Charles couldn’t help the bark of a laugh he let out. “No, he’s not a creature, mate. He’s a superhero.” At the totally blank look on Edwin’s face he tried again. “He’s like a detective. But he fights crime with his fists, too.”
“Ah,” Edwin said with a knowing look. “One of your heroes, I see.”
offer me that deathless death by websters_lieb
It takes the better part of two days for Charles’s body to even be found, and in the end, Edwin is forced to turn on all the lights in the gymnasium attic where Charles had died in order to get a janitor to come upstairs. No one had even been looking for him, yet. - or Edwin and Charles attend a funeral, look for a gravestone, and decide to become detectives.
Edwin's Payne tolerance by RabidWatermelon
Charles knew Edwin had a high pain tolerance. How could he not, having endured the tortures of hell? He just didn’t expect it to be so… useful.
AKA I want to write drabbles about Edwin's pain tolerance because I think it's something that would come up over thirty years together and be mildly concerning to someone who went through abuse in life. No fixed plot or posting schedule. Will update tags as chapter come out w new content.
The Case of Edwin's Missing Notebook by thewalkingstone
Edwin forgot his notebook at the office.
Not a problem. He prided himself on having an excellent memory. He certainly liked to jot down notes as he worked, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t work without it. He would just have to remember things until they returned to the office.
It was fine. He was a professional, and professionals did not delay an investigation because they forgot their notebook. OR Just months after escaping Hell, Edwin accidentally forgets his notebook on a case. He does not handle it well. Luckily, his new best mate is there to help him out.
The Scenic Route by DontOffendTheBees
"Cheer up, Edwin," said Charles, brightly. "Might never happen."
Edwin gave Charles a look so haughty it had its own title. "It very much has happened, Charles." He sniffed and straightened out his newspaper with attitude, the rustle of it loud and sharp as a whip crack. "I don't see why we couldn't have simply hopped through the mirror and met Crystal there."
"At this point, Edwin, I'm in total fucking agreement," said Crystal, not opening her eyes. She was burrowed under her coat like a blanket, doing her best to make the uncomfortable upright seat look like a cosy bed. Fortunately this train car was basically empty, so she had space to stretch across two seats – and no one close by to comment on the floating newspaper across the table and the fact she was having a barney with it. "You're like, the worst person to travel with."   In which the agency takes the scenic route to their next case; and Edwin finally receives some answers he's been waiting for.
what some circumstance stole by Chrome
For a magic-user intent on siphoning pain for power, both Hob Gadling and Edwin Payne represent unique opportunities. United in dire circumstances, a man incapable of dying and a boy long dead forge an unusual friendship--and try to survive the experience. --- “When you died,” Hob said. “How old were you?” “Sixteen.” “That,” Hob said, “Is awful.” Edwin shrugged. “Life is, I’m afraid,” he said. “Can be wonderful, too,” Hob said. “I promise.”
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