#there is not a single thought going through that man's head

[jarofstyles]

Juno

Based off of the song Juno, I tried my hand at writing song inspired one shots again! this one is filthy but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways.

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WC- 3.5k

Warnings- heavy breeding kink, cum play, soft dom H, slight restraining, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up yall)

It had been a long fucking day.

Being the boss wasn't for the weak, apparently. Harry had been through the ringer today especially. People unable to communicate, an overly long and exastrubsating meeting, having to terminate an employee, all of it had made him itchy for the day to end- only for him to have to stay late to fix a problem. He had felt guilty texting his girlfriend that he was going to be home late, telling her his day had been a bit hellish.

Thankfully, he had been blessed with one of the most incredible women in the world, who assured him she was fine, not to worry about her and she would see him when he got home- but he hadn’t expected just an incredible sight to greet him as he opened the bedroom door.

It was like a vision he’d see in the most incredible of dreams.

Y/N was stretched out on the bed, her head propped up on a pile of pillows. She was wearing a tiny, frilly pink babydoll nightgown that barely covered her assets and showed off her legs- god, her fucking legs. The delicate fabric shimmered in the soft lighting, catching Harry's eye and drawing his gaze downward. Dragging his eyes down the perfectly wrapped present, he counted every single one of his blessings.

“Hi.” She spoke softly, clambering up to her knees and crawling to the end of the bed. “I missed you today, H.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as he watched her crawl towards him, his eyes taking in the delicate nightgown that flowed over her curves in all the right places, riding up her thighs as she sat on her knees waiting for him. He felt a surge of love wash over him, his exhaustion melting away at the sight of her. Crossing the room in long strides, he met her at the end of the bed. "I missed you too, baby," He murmured. “What’s all this, hm?”

“I got a package today. This was what was in it.” She shrugged, running her hand down her waist to show it off. “I figured you had a rough day, but you like when you see the pretty things I buy. I thought…. Maybe this would make you happy.” Her hands ran over his chest, peering up at him through her lashes. “I wanted to make you happy. I love you so much.”

His eyes softened, warmth spreading through his chest as he took in her words. She really had no idea how much she affected him, how much he absolutely adored her. Reaching out, his fingers brushing against the delicate, shimmery fabric, slowly running it up her thighs until it bunched around her waist. "It makes me very happy, my sweet girl." He murmured, his voice raspy as he took in the sight of her bare hips and thighs. "Come here." Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he urged her to straddle his lap, which she did without complaint.

“I know it’s hard to be the boss all day.” Her voice was silky as she ran her finger through his hair, the gel keeping it back having failed hours ago. The man looked slightly disheveled, and that did something to her. “I know you need to come home and have a soft place to land. You’re so good to me. I brag about you to my friends all the time. About everything.” Even the not so appropriate bits. She couldn’t help it! “I want to be the one to help you make your fantasies come true. You pay the bills here, so…” Shrugging her shoulders, she bit down on her glossy lip. “I figured I’d give you something pretty to come home to.”

Harry's large hands palmed her ass, squeezing lightly as she straddled him, her warmth pressing against him. Her words, her kindness, her thoughtfulness, it all made him want to be a better man. She was the soft place he landed every day, his happy place. He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed as her fingers combed through his disheveled hair. “You are… incredible. Fuck me. Can’t believe you’re real.”

“Do you like it?” Pressing her lips to the corner of his, she hooked her finger in his shirt and tugged the half undone tie to the ground. “What I put on for you? I know you like to say M’your little angel. Figured this was a little angelic for you.”

He growled softly in approval, his hands tightening on her ass as her fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. "It's perfect, just like you." He sighed, his voice hoarse with the amount he had yelled today, and his desire for the girl on his lap. His hands roamed over her curves, his touch gentle but greedy. The man could never get enough of her. He loved how she would let him have his way with her, no matter what he desired. Nothing and no one could compare to how she made him feel, playing into every base level instinct he had. "My little angel... Dressed like that... S’almost unfair."

Y/N let out a giggle, loving the effect she had on him. Knowing he was such a powerful man and yet he had a weakness in her was more arousing than she could have prepared herself for. She loved being his soft spot, his little angel. “It is fair, though. I wore it just for you. And I decided…” This was the part she had been nervous about all day. The decision she had made. She wanted him to lock her down. “I know we aren’t married yet, but I don’t think I can let you wait any longer to give you what you want.” Brushing her nose against his, she spoke against his lips. “I think m’gonna let you get me pregnant.”

Harry's breath hitched, his eyes widening for a moment before they filled with a heat that almost burned her. "Y/N..." He growled, his voice low and loaded. "Are you sure? We can wait if you're not ready." Even as he said the words, his hands tightened on her, pulling her closer against him. He wanted it, he wanted her, like this, forever. When she nodded to agree that she was absolutely sure, he let out a deep groan, eyes wild as they searched her own. " Say it again. Please."

“I want you….” She purred, leaning in so their chests were pressed together. “To get me pregnant. Knock me up.” Smearing their lips together, she sucked a soft kiss to his bottom lip before murmuring again. “Put a baby in me.”

A shudder ran through him at her words, his control snapping. "Fuck, Angel..." He groaned, crashing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, claiming her, tasting her. She tasted so fucking good, so much like his. He couldn’t get enough. One hand tangled in her hair while the other slid down to grip her thigh, squeezing, owning. Pulling her down fully, he ground up against her, letting her feel how hard she made him. It had started the moment he walked in to see her splayed out on the bed, but this was something else. His weakness. "You want my baby?"

“Uh-huh.” She giggled against his mouth, turning it into a whimper as she felt his cock rub up against her. Since coming to the decision she had been wet, aching for him to actually do it. She wanted to keep him, lock him down in every sense of the word. Be the only one for him. She wanted to be the mother of his children, all of them. There was no patience for waiting. The ring could come later- she had known he got one anyway. “I want to be yours so badly. I need it.”

"Shit, baby, you already are.." Standing up and with her in his arms, he turned them over and set her down on the mattress with her back against it, looking at her with intense eyes. "M’going to give you my baby, my everything. You're going to be so fucking pregnant with my child, everyone's going to know it." Fumbling with his belt, he tossed it down and hurriedly stepped out of his trousers, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders as he watched her sit back up.

Her hands went for his briefs, tugging them down with shaky fingers. Y/N was just as needy for it as he was, and it showed. He let his head fall back, a low groan rumbling in his chest as she wrapped her hands around his shaft and pumped slowly, leaning down to lick the tip. He twitched in her grasp, throbbing in her palm.

"That's it, baby..." He encouraged softly, his hands tangling in her hair as he guided her head down, slowly thrusting into her warm, wet mouth. "Just like that. Get it nice n’wet for me." He pulled out, his breathing heavy.

She came back up for air, her hand pumping him slowly as she looked up at him with wide, eager eyes. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Stick out your tongue." He watched intently as she obeyed, baring her neck and tilting her head back. He wrapped a hand around the base of his erection and slowly pumped, his eyes rolling back as he grew harder. "Thatta girl..." He guided the tip to her lips, rubbing the head on her bottom lip.

He fed her his length slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as he savored the hot sensation of her mouth wrapping back around him. He pulled back and thrust into her mouth again, his hands tangling in her hair and guiding her head. "Look at me, Y/N. Keep your eyes on me."

Her eyes fluttered open, her lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks as she looked up at him, her mouth stretched around his thick girth. She hummed against him, eyes watering as he thrust further into her mouth. She looked so good, taking him like that, and he couldn’t help but groan, his pace quickening. "That's my good girl. Such a sweet little thing f’me."

He gently thrust in and out of her mouth, his hands cradling her head. "Relax your jaw for me, Y/N... that's it... jus’ like that." He praised her softly, his voice a husky whisper. "You're doing so well, m’love." He thrust a little deeper, pulling back quickly when she gagged slightly, his eyes flashing with concern. "Careful, careful. Breathe through your nose, baby, you can take it… Y’know how to do it."

She breathed in through her nose as he instructed, her chest rising and falling. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes from the push but she didn't pull away, determined to please him. Her hands came up to grip his thighs for balance as he continued to slowly thrust. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked gently, her tongue swirling around the tip each time he pulled out.

He was absolutely stunning, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his chest heaving with each breath. The sight of his strong thighs tensing and flexing under her hands, the way his abs clenched... it was almost too much. She wanted to memorize every detail. She needed to be his, forever. His skin was flushed and damp with exertion, his hair disheveled. He was the picture of raw, masculine beauty. And he was all hers..

It was adorable, how she whimpered at the loss of his cock as he pulled it from her mouth, but he needed to have her fully. Claim her in the way she had promised to let him. “Mmm, shit. Baby, you’re too good. S’okay.” He panted, pulling her up by her arms and crushing his lips against hers. "I need inside, love. I can't...I can't wait any longer. I need t’put my baby in you."

She nodded eagerly against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he adjusted her against the fluffy duvet. Never in her life had she been this fucking horny, but that was simply the way the man tended to affect her. Her legs spread wide for him, her heels digging into the bed as she watched him move to hover over her. Positioning himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips firmly, admiring the beauty that was his angel underneath him. "Y/N...look at me, sweetheart. Keep your eyes on me, okay?" His voice was gentle, loving, but his face was contorted with raw, unbridled desire.

"Need you t’watch while I knock you up." He grit out, pressing forward and filling her with one long thrust. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out, his eyes fluttered shut in rapture. "Oh, fuck." He hissed, reveling in the feel of her wrapped around him. This was what he needed, the remedy to his long day. Always her. He stilled for a moment, giving her time to adjust to his size. It was a stretch, and he knew it. "Okay?" he asked softly, his hips flexing forward slightly.

“Uh-huh.” Her eyes were glued to his, wide and glassy as he filled her completely. The sensation of being so full, so stretched, was overwhelming. It never got old. When she got tipsy and slightly loose lipped, it was one of the things she alluded to with her friends- how big he was, how fulfilled he made her. She could feel every thick inch of him inside her, his heavy balls pressing against the plush of her ass. A soft whimper escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size, her walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to keep him inside. "S’so good.”

He began to move, slow and deep at first, savoring the exquisite drag of her silken walls. "That's it, baby... take it. Take every inch of me." He whispered, his hips rolling in a hypnotic rhythm. One hand slid down to rub tight circles over her clit as he fucked into her. "Gonna fill this sweet cunt. Pump you full of me."

His cock stretched her, a dull, delicious ache as he drove into her again and again, the wet sounds of the thrusts filling the room. He angled his hips, searching for that perfect spot inside her. He always did. He loved to make her go crazy, see her buck and cry out when he got it. They fit together so well, sometimes it was hard to believe they’d found each other naturally. When did find it he heard it, music to his fucking ears. The borderline frantic cry as she grabbed his arms where they held her hips, her back arching off the bed. "Yes, there! Just like that." Her nails dug into his forearms as he hit her spot dead on with each thrust.

His balls slapped against her ass with each deep stroke, the sound echoing through the room. “Yeah, I found my spot. Didn’t I?” He crooned, smirk on his face as he kept it up. If there was anything he allowed himself to be smug about, it was how good he made his woman feel. “S’good, I know. Hitting right where my girl needs. God, you’re fuckin’ perfect. Dressing up for me…” He grit his teeth. “Tellin’ me I can finally give you a baby. You love me, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I do. Shit, Harry.” She cried out, her voice high-pitched as her inner walls tightened around his thick shaft. She could barely think, let alone speak, with him filling her so perfectly. “Y-Yes, I love you so much- Please, please, please, please!” She chanted, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as he continued to fuck into her sopping cunt. “Please what, baby?” He taunted, looking down at her beautiful form. It was the prettiest picture only he got to see. “What d’you want?”

“I-I want you to-” She gasped as he hit her spot again, her toes curling in ecstasy. “I want you to knock me up, H. Please knock me up, get me pregnant like y’wanted. I don’t care, just wanna feel you inside me, I want my tummy to grow, I want all of it.” She pleaded, tugging him down to her as she felt her eyes water, looking up at him. “Please, baby- please, please.”

His face contorted as he looked down at her, love and possession shining in his eyes. "You're really going t’let me breed you like that, huh? All for me?" He grit out with clenched teeth, his hips snapping forward as his hands gathered her, wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head. "Y’want to carry my baby, grow round with it inside you?"

"Yes, yes, yes." She chanted with a lovedrunk smile on her face, her back arching as he took her harder. The new angle had him hitting impossibly deep. "Please Harry, I need it. Need you to fill me up, make me yours. I want everyone to know I'm your girl, carrying your baby." Her voice broke, overwhelmed with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm getting close."

"That's it, cum on my cock like a good girl." He growled, feeling her tighten around him like a vice. "Milk me, I'm gonna pump you full. Gonna flood this fertile little cunt with my cum." His balls drew up tight as he pounded into her relentlessly, the wet squelch of her arousal obscene in the room. "Fuck, m’close too. You want it baby?"

Y/N could barely speak as her orgasm took her faster than she had anticipated. It was his voice, his promise that took her there. The sensation was indescribable. Like being consumed, each hard thrust sending wave after wave of intense heat through her veins. She could feel every ridge and vein of his thick, pulsing length as it slid in and out of her slick hole. Her whole body was alight, every nerve ending on fire as he stretched her to the limit. The pressure built and built, her muscles tensing as the first waves of her release washed over her.

"Please, please... I want to feel you, inside me, filling me up. I want your baby, Harry. I want you to breed me." Her words were barely coherent, her mind fogged with desire as he continued to thrust into her, his powerful hips driving his thick cock home again and again. She could feel the heat of his body, the tautness of his muscles as he held back, intent on pouring into her just as she'd begged. “Wanna be the only one.”

“Shit.” He whined weakly, losing all resolve to hold on. Hearing her beg for it was the final straw on his composure. This was a day he had dreamed of, and she had so willingly handed it over to him. It was his turn to give it to her, just as he promised. “I’ll give it to you baby. Give you everything- only t’you. Fuck.” With a feral groan, he lost all control, slamming into her one final time as he erupted inside her. His hot, thick cum flooded her, painting her insides as he filled her to the brim. She could feel it pouring in, the warmth spreading through her belly as he continued to pump her full, his cock jerking and twitching inside her. “Take all of it.”

Her mouth parted on a silent 'O' as she felt him surge inside her, his warmth spreading through her. Her eyes fluttered closed as he released her hands, and her fingers immediately digging on his back as she found a way to cling to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to hold him closer. She didn’t want him to leave, wanted him to stay buried.

"That's it, baby... take it all." He encouraged softly, nuzzling her neck as he slowly thrust in and out, relishing in the feeling as he pulsed inside of her.

She moaned softly, her head tossing on the pillow. "It feels so warm, so good... S’so much inside of me. I love you so much." She whispered, a fucked out smile painting her lips. "I hope it takes."

Pulling out slowly, his cock glistened with them combined as he held her open, his load leaking out of her. The scene was absolutely filthy and everything he had hoped to see when they tried this. "Look at you... so full of my cum. So fucking perfect." He gently held her thigh open with one hand, his fingers on the other spreading her open to show off his work. "Look at how full you are, baby."

She whimpered, her eyes fluttering open as he displayed her to him. "Harry... It's so much. I can feel it dripping out of me. Don’t waste it." She whispered, her voice tiredly giddy. "We should try for round two... just to be sure, right?"

[whateverloomis]

Dilf!Billy Loomis x AFAB reader (Stepcest)

I honestly think Billy would be hella single as a grown ass man but for this one let's imagine he's maintaining a shallow relationship to get away with another killing :p

Warnings: Stepcest, predetermined family, fingering, teasing, p in v, roughness, infidelity, unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight degradation, mentions of Stu, age gap (middle aged Billy and reader in their 20s,) AFAB reader (no pronouns,) unedited

Your mother had never been shy with her love life. She's had multiple partners after your dad passed away. Random hookups with attractive older men happened pretty often too. You're sure it's all been to fill the void and drown the unwanted emotions.

You've never really had the best relationship with her, you bud heads a lot and have grown distant since your biological dad passed, not to mention the countless arguments about every little inconvenience.

For that reason and many others you haven't been secretive about the attraction towards your step father, Billy Loomis. You don't care if he actually loves her or not. You'll let any selfish thoughts cross your mind and oh boy, you want that man inside you as soon as possible.

He's been living with you and your mother for 2 years and as time went by it got more difficult to contain yourself around him, especially since he openly flirts with you and you swear that one of these days you're going to jump on his cock the second you find a chance.

One particular day your mother left for the weekend on a business trip. You were more than sure that she'd been cheating on Billy with his best friend, Stu Macher. They've worked together for years and it's so obvious that they've got something going on.

To be completely honest, you wouldn't mind having Stu as your next step father. He's just as hot as Billy and you never miss the way that he checks you out whenever you're around him. Gosh, if you could have both of them at the same time you know you'd cum the second they both lay hands on you.

Being alone with Billy for the weekend was going to be difficult. You haven't hooked up with anyone in so long and touching yourself isn't satisfying anymore. The way he shamelessly walks around shirtless with sweatpants that highlight his cock drives you crazy and you don't know how you'll survive around him.

Because of that you were feeling bold. You wanted to risk it all, and you did.

It was a Saturday morning and you wake up ready to take the day off to relax after a long week. After you brushed your teeth and showered, you went to the kitchen in just a thong, a thin cotton crop and knee high socks. You knew Billy would walk in the kitchen any second after hearing the water turn off in the shower and were ready to pounce at any moment.

"Well good morning to you too." The sound of his deep voice instantly sent shivers down your spine.

Billy was standing against the countertop behind you shamelessly looking at your exposed ass and gorgeous legs. His hair was damp from the shower and slicked back. No shirt on. Grey sweatpants. He was out to hunt and you were his easy prey.

Turning around, you smiled innocently at him and pointed at the stove, "You want pancakes? I'm making myself some."

Billy could see right through you and he wasn't playing your games.

At your question he chuckled and walked towards you. His hands instantly found your waist and his eyes captured yours, "I'm hungry for something else," he said and squeezed your flesh slightly, his eyes lingering on your tits before scanning your face.

He was driving you mad. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip to suppress a pathetic moan that threatened to come out of you.

Billy seemed to notice and smirked at your reaction, "I don't think your mother would like knowing you're walking around the house looking like that while I'm here," he said and it was your turn to chuckle at his nonchalant comment.

"I don't think she'd like to see her husband grab me like he is right now but here we are," you answered and he lost it.

Billy ran his hands down and under your ass cheeks before picking you up. He sat you on the counter and positioned himself between your legs. His large hands rested on your thighs and he occasionally squeezed them.

"Don't use that tone with me," he said half serious and you laughed teasingly as his words.

"Why? Is daddy gonna ground me? Hm?" you teased further and Billy grabbed your face with his right hand under your jaw, making you look into his eyes. You smirked at him and that was enough, the man crashed his lips against yours and kissed you hungrily.

You were desperate. Both of you were. Your hands were tangled in his hair and he was holding you impossibly close to his body. He groped your ass as you rocked against him slowly.

He was hard and needy before, but having you like this was going to make him cum right then and there if he wasn't careful.

Billy slid one of his hands from your ass to your hip, down your inner thigh and finally over your core. He felt the wetness through the fabric of your thong and he gasped at you mockingly, "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked," he said and you whined softly. So desperate to feel him inside you. Your body ached for his cock.

The man couldn't contain himself much longer. He was already pulling your panties to the side and playing with your cunt. Rubbing your sensitive bud in circular motions and running his fingers down to your throbbing hole, dipping them just enough to pleasure you but not enough to satisfy the craving. He was torturing you. Torturing himself.

"Mm... Billy please," you moaned and grabbed his big hand, pushing his fingers all the way inside you and whining at the feeling of finally being filled up. It still wasn't enough but fuck did it feel amazing when he started to fuck you with his fingers.

You throbbed around him and he groaned at the feeling.

"Fuck baby, you feel so good... I bet you'll feel better around my dick," he whispered in your ear as you fucked yourself with his fingers.

You grabbed his cock and felt how big he is. Gosh you were so right when you imagined him as you rode your dildo in your room alone at night.

"Mmphh... Please fuck me," you begged and Billy pulled his fingers out of your cunt, sucking on them teasingly and moaning at your taste.

He pulled you towards him by your thighs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. He held your legs around his middle and carried you to his and your mother's bedroom.

After he released you, you crawled on the bed and positioned yourself on the edge on all fours, giving him a perfect view of your behind. You slowly removed your thong for him and revealed your glistening cunt.

Billy groaned at the sight and pulled his sweatpants down just enough to release his throbbing cock. He wanted to eat you up and taste your whole body but right then he couldn't handle the sight of your waiting hole. He'd been wanting to bury himself inside you for so long, and when he finally did you both moaned at the same time.

He didn't bother to wear protection and you honestly didn't give a fuck at that point. You didn't care if your stepfather knocked you up, as fucked up as it sounds.

"Ahh fuck... Harder Daddy, harder!" You nearly screamed, and to that he complied.

Billy grabbed your hips harshly and pounded you hard enough that you felt his cock all the way up your stomach. He pressed your head against the mattress, your back arched perfectly for him and the sight of your ass cheeks bouncing against him was nearly enough to make him cum inside you, but he was smarter than that of course.

"Getting fucked by your stepfather, who does that?" He shamed you and it made you throb around him. You were nearly going to cum just by hearing his words, it was a chase for release between the two of you.

After a few more thrusts the knot inside you finally broke as his tip brushed against your gspot. You came around him and screamed at the feeling of the intense waves that were coursing through your body. You had one, two, three mini orgasms after the big O and fuck you needed more.

Billy nearly bust his load inside your sweet pussy, but he managed to pull out and cum all over your back. He took a mental picture at how good your body looked covered in his seed.

"I'll clean up the mess for you," he whispered teasingly before giving you a lingering kiss.

As he walked into the bathroom you heard the front door open. Your mom and Stus voice echoed in the living room.

Fuck.

"I'll take care of it..."

•

I know I know, we hate cliffhangers but I love teasing y'all :p ;)

Hope you enjoyed reading <33

[gay-dorito-dust]

Isekai Reader, looking at the half-bitten cookie: .....

Isekai Reader, looks at Damian and Duke: Are you guys sure none of you put anything in here?

Alfred, checking their temperature: I was with them the whole time and any type of liquid that should not be in my kitchen is strictly prohibited

Isekai Reader looks at the transparent couple behind the two boys: I think I saw Bruce's parents... am I high?

Damian: what are you blabbering at?

Isekai Reader: Ya deaf boy? I said I can see your grandmother and granfather from your father's side who is behind you

Alfred, concerned(a bit hopeful too): are you sure?

Martha looks at her husband: How bout you tell him this so he can believe you dear, he is the only one who knows of this

Isekai Reader: hey Mr. Alfred wanna know what miss Martha told me?

Alfred: I'm afraid I don't know would you care to?

Isekai Reader: Wanna bet?

.....

Alfred:....

Alfred, clears his throat: Ahem, I will appreciate it if you don't tell this to any of them no matter what the cost

Isekai Reader: Don't worry I won't traumatize your already traumatized grandkids even more

.....

Bruce: should we send you to a therapist?

Isekai Reader: you're coming with me then

Bruce: absolutely not

Isekai Reader: Then no♥️

Isekai reader either high as balls or actually seeing ghosts? More news at 5.

Isekai! Reader/ you: after all you’ve been through, have any of you ever been to therapy before? Like genuinely gone and or considered going?

Bruce: I’m rich

Dick: once or twice but then I remember that I have to open up. No thanks.

Jason: why pay for therapy when killing crime lords and drug dealers is completely free.

Damian: therapy is beneath me.

Tim: what’s that? Never heard of it.

Duke: I missed one session! One!

Isekai! Reader/ you: if I had money I’d open up a hospital and shove you all inside it. not you Duke, you’re my favourite right now.

Duke: :)

…

-I love this concept, thanks anon-

Isekai! Reader/you: *seeing Martha and Thomas again as they watched over Bruce* fuck sake I’m high again.

*martha and Thomas resting their hands on their son’s shoulders, smiling at him*

Isekai! Reader/ you: *feeling a little sentimental* awww. They’re watching over their baby boy. *smiles softly*

Bruce, noticed: why you smiling.

Isekai! Reader/ you: just remembering how stupid you looked when dressed up as nightwing.

Bruce: Dick and Jason showed you the pictures?

Isekai! Reader/ you: that suit was struggling to keep itself together and I thought your whole asshole was going to fall out if honestly is what your after.

Bruce: it was a phase! *buries head into hands*

Isekai! Reader/ you: that’s what they all say, but you dressing up as a bat and beating people so bad they’re left in a comatose state has to be the longest phases you’ve been in. Ever.

…

Jason: *does anything*

Isekai! Reader/ you: I can take him.

Duke: in a fight right?

Isekai! Reader/ you: :)

Duke, scared: in a fight right?!

Bruce, from a distance: STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!

Isekai! Reader/ you: I WILL FUCK YOUR SON WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT! HES TOO FINE TO BE LEFT SINGLE! ITS CRIMINAL!

Duke: …

Bruce: …

Jason: :)

…

Bruce: what you got there?

Isekai! Reader/ you: a big ass plushie that’s half my body height. *picks said plushie up and squeezes it*

Damian: are you a child?

Isekai! Reader/you: unlike you I had actually got to experience a childhood…at least I think…I can’t remember most of it but I’m sure that’s normal.

Bruce: …

Damian: …

Duke: I’m pretty sure that having gaps in your memory in regards of your childhood isn’t healthy nor a good reflection on your childhood. I could be wrong though so don’t take my word for it.

Isekai!reader/ you: …consider this healing the inner child with a rich man’s credit card.

[boofeine]

AAA – ljh

pairing: woozi x afab reader

genre: smut

summary: you decide to make jihoon cum under your good care and you wouldn't receive different.

warnings: mdni, oral (f and m receiving), handjob, gagging, a lot of spit, praise, slow sex, not penetrative, unprotected, fingering, body workship, cum play, swearing

a/n: happy jihoon day!!! birthday post for birthday boy and my strong thoughts of woozi having the greatest ace potential on seventeen as part of the ace community 🫡

tags: @huen1ngk4i @aaniag @svteensworld @kooqitas @unlikelysublimekryptonite @yorkutis

Jihoon is a shy man. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't lack attitude, quite the opposite, he takes a lot of action, he just needs time to make sure that's really what you both want and feel totally comfortable and in it. That's a big part of it, that's one of the reasons sex with Jihoon is so... addictive. It's intense and has not a single pullback or doubt. He needs to have that something more. Sex for just sex is not for him.

You were getting impatient, you tried seducting him through it. Sure, you could use your words, but it's more fun to make you both figure it out. Jihoon isn't dumb, he notices the way you shoot those hungry eyes to him. The way you smile pretending to give attention to everything he's saying. Your gaze going from his eyes to his lips and them back up again. He looks unbothered though, but that's because he's too afraid to sport a hard on if he stares for too long.

And you're all so sure about it, having your back pressed on the mattress, your wrists pinned by his hands on top of your head as he kisses the outline of your jaw and neck. You mewl under his soft lips that let open mouth kisses to your torso and love bites just above your nipples. Your back arching for him, in need of his mouth somewherelse more needed. "You're just so impatient, aren't you?" He whispers, looking up at your face and God how that needy eyes say so much, the brows shut and mouth agape, he wants to ruin you.

He smears his tongue around your nipple, the most erotic moan leaving your mouth as you finally get the feeling you've been waiting on. He sucks and licks as he cups your other breast, changing sides to give the same attention to the other boob, pinching and playing with the one who lost his mouth. It's all too much, the ache and wetness between your legs get way too uncomfortable before he trails down with his kisses. His hands leave your wrists to grip your waist instead, keeping you in place so he can lick a long stripe of your folds. Your legs spreading as if it were instincts. His tongue alternating between fucking your hole and draw circles on your clit. "Fuck, Jihoon! Feels so good!" you praise and whine. The knot on your stomach finally undoing as you come undone on his mouth. He growls and laps on your center, drinking in all your juices. His cock rock hard on his boxers, ruining the material with his precum.

He makes his way back up, hovering over you, keeping his weight up as he stares down at your naked form and fucked out state as your chest rise and fall out of breath. He doesn't waist time in kissing you, your tongues swirling together, your own taste adding to it as you whimper on his lips, your pussy heated all over again. "You're so hot. I can't ever get enough of this" He adds.

You feel your body burning hot, not wanting to wait anymore, you roll his body to the side, pressing him on the mattress as you take your place above him. Your mouths unattaches for a moment, but dives back to the kiss right after.

You let your fingers go inside his hair, grabbing a full hand of it. With your other free hand, you cage and bring his wrist to your hair, stopping the kiss to lend softly the words "Do it for me". Your foreheads press together, eyes locked as he pulls your hair back, arranging and taking it on a ponytail. Without saying much more, you go down on him. His breath hiss watching you getting on your knees in between his legs as he watches you hand his base, giving a kitten lick to his cockhead, a sigh of satisfaction coming out from him. You let a kiss over it, so teasingly soft that makes him want to lose his control and just thrust inside your mouth. You take his head first, wrapping your mouth around it and sucking it with hallow cheeks, leaving with a loud pop. You look up at him, your palm going up to smear your spit and his arousal around his head with your two middle fingers, you scissors it, making a fist right after, bumping down his length. That's enough to make him let out a breathy low moan, his head going back as you start to bump him. He swears under his breath as you take him on your warmth mouth again. Your head bobing around what you can take as you fist the end.

With your legs on each side of his laid body, you go up to kiss him again. You go back to his length, fisting it in circle motions. He can feel your soft hands on his lower belly and around his cock, the same for you as your belly get all wet with his pre cum. He slides his palm over your sides, grabbing your waist as he brings you closer, your clit pressing over his balls, making you moan. Your face going down on his jaw as he grabs your ass cheeks, pushing them aside.

"Shit, baby, feels so good" His grip on your hair tightens when you finally reach for his balls, massaging it. You can see his eyes rolling back by your hooded view as he lets out a proper moan from the back of his throat. He've lost control, cuping your face and making you stay in place as he starts to thrust inside your mouth. The change in who has the control makes your legs press together as he pushes in more than you believe you can take. Your eyes watering as you dig your digits onto the skin of his thighs. You whimper and whine around him, a final thrusts making his cockhead poke the back of your throat as you gag around him, he groans pleasantly, taking his length out slowly, leaving your lips with a sloppy sound and a line of spit connecting them two together. You try to catch your breath, your chin all wet as well as his dick, your saliva and his arousal slipping down to his balls. Jihoon caresses his thumb on your cheeks, caging your chin on his grip to make you look up at him "Fucking gorgeous. Come over here" He praises, pulling you to him by the hair.

You push your upper body up, your palms landing on his abs as you suddenly move. Jihoon's face changes in confusion as you turn your back to him, going down again. Your legs are spread, your wet cunt just there in front of his face. "Fuck, you're going to ruin me" He lets out as he spreads your folds apart, your pussy clenching with the motion as he smears your arosal on it. "You're dripping, babe" He states, his fingers sliding easily as you moan his name, the pet name doing wonders to you as your body responds, a rush of your juices coming out of your entrance as Jihoon stares hungrily, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as he watches.

In the same position you are in, you take him in your mouth again, his cock twitching under your tongue before you start moving. On the other side, he draws circles to your sensitive muscle, teasing your entrance with his fingers. You whine, your ass wiggling asking for more of him. He laughs endeared by your neediness. Hearing your prayers, he thrust two fingers in, making you whimper and hault the rhythm you've set around his length. He keeps thrusting slowly, easing your hole as he goes more inside each time. Your whole body squirm when he reaches your further spot, your mouth leaving him, not being able to get anything done. "Fuck, Jihoon!" You moan out, at least bumping him so he feels something too. The tip of his fingers pressing over your g spot as your back arch with a whine.

He sighs, out of breath, his body losing weight as he lets go of you. You move to face him again as he isn't aware, feeling the post orgasm thrill, his eyes closed and body light. "Look at me" You say softly as he opens his eyes slowly. As soon as your presence is known, you lick his newly hot cum from his skin, his toned abs hardening under your tongue as you lick him dry. "Goddamit!" The sight nasty enough to make his cock spurr one last line of cum before starting to get back to its flacid state again. You suck everything clean, drinking his every drop, sitting down on the back of your legs with a small smile to your face that mirrors his under you.

"Oh! Do you like that, pretty?" He teases. There's no doubt by the way your walls pulsate around his digits and hug them tightly. Before you know, he's back at thrusting his fingers, his thumb making his way up to your clit as he caresses your ass with his free hand. You swear the room is spinning, your whole body hissing as the familiar knot starts to build on your stomach. You know it wont take much for you to cum. So, taking some action, you press his cock down over his lower belly, keeping massaging the flesh as you take his ball on your mouth. His legs shake under you, and you smirk proudly. Your tongue goes flat where his balls connected, licking the thin flash. Jihoon's hips bulk up to your mouth as he swears and moans, his fingers going faster on your whole, giving in how desesparate he is. "Shit, Yn, I'm gonna cum" he announces. His fingers curling inside you again as you moan and suck him harder. He feels the way your pussy sucks him in, he knows you're close too "Gonna cum with me, hm? Cum for me, babe" He pushes your high, his palm leaving your ass to fuck your clit instead.

It's all too much, your face burring to his legs as you, unintentionally, puts force around the grip you have on his cock as he grunts, stopping everything he's doing to grab your waist and pull your ass to him. His tongue laps on your center, his soft tongue on you clit while your head goes back as you finally cum on his mouth. He hums, drinking in all your cum that keeps coming out. Goosebumps spreading all over your body and the sweet taste of you on his tongue, soon after he can't take it anymore either. Jihoon cums. His hot white spread, messing all over his belly and stomach. Yours going down on your inner thigh.

[bettyfrommars]

When the Night Comes

Steve Harrington x Reader

I received an ask from @madaboutjoe for option #2 from our Stranger Prompts which is: You mistake him for the man who is supposed to be your blind date, and he goes along with it, with Steve. I put my own spin on it and made it extra weird.

18+ONLY for horror, mention of gore and adult themes, fear of the unknown, hurt/comfort I suppose, she/her pronouns used for reader. WC: 11.8k

Summary: After being single for a while, a personal ad in the classifieds catches your eye, and the guy who posted it invites you to meet for coffee. There's a tree blocking the road, causing you to detour, and once you get to Hawkins you find it's not at all what you expected. Mention of Robin, and appearances from Hopper, Joyce, and Eddie Munson.

Author's Note: This was inspired by the horror show From (which I highly recommend), but you do not have to be familiar with it to understand/enjoy this. In fact, it might be even better if you don't know anything about it. Also, the Benny's described in this fic is a cross between the original burger joint and the diner in the show.

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It was mostly by accident that Steve and Robin took over Benny’s. One day, they were hunkering down there to hide, scared as hell, trying not to make a sound, and the next thing they knew, they were painting the walls and adding items to the menu.  

When caught in a hellscape, it was important to have a place to go to bask in the illusion of safety, even if just for a meal.  

Things generally slowed down in the afternoon on Wednesdays, as it was post lunch rush and right before the seniors dropped in for that early bird special.  Robin was with Vickie tending to the farm animals across town, and the only customers at the time were Claudia Henderson chatting with a friend over coffee and pie.  Steve would bus the table once he made a list of supplies he’d need to go searching for the next day.  .  

At a booth nearest the front door, in his trusty red and black flannel that was missing two buttons and a pair of jeans, Steve wore a white apron around his waist. He took the blue bandana off his head to let his glossy mane flop free, running a hand through it a few times, sweeping it to one side.

2

“Is this it?” You mumbled from behind the steering wheel of your car, peering ahead through the windshield at the first signs of a town after a long stretch of forest.  The pavement was cracked and worn, giving you a passing thought about where their tax dollars were going if not to those improvements.  The Welcome to Hawkins sign was just as weathered and also pockmarked with bullet holes.  

A certain gloom settled around the town, like those places that exist in the lower valley between two mountains, nestled in a sea of fog.  The afternoon had been fairly bright and sunny until you approached the Hawkins border and had to take your sunglasses off in order to see.  

He said you’d be able to see it from the road, that burger place Steve said he’d meet you at.  You took a right down the first street and craned your neck to read a sign scrawled in black marker on a sandwich board out in front of the post office:

62 Days Without Incident

You didn’t have long to ponder it before you were pulling into the parking spot at the far end of Benny’s.  One of the windows had a menacing spider web crack in it that appeared to be mended with duct tape, and if not for the station wagon in the lot and the dim lighting inside, you’d think the building was abandoned.

Hawkins felt like someone's memory of a town, and the memory was fading.

“It’s just coffee,” you whispered, pacing on the other side of the building near your car.  “It’s just coffee with a complete stranger.”

A complete stranger you contacted through a personal ad in the paper, to be exact.  

You considered having a smoke first, but didn’t want the nicotine smell to cling to you.  Maybe he was also an occasional smoker, you’d have to wait and see.  You stepped into view of the front window, and then jerked yourself back to lean against the slate gray wall, cringing as if you’d just stubbed your toe.

You hadn’t been on a date in over a year, but there was something about the ad in the classifieds that made him sound so…normal.  Unlike the others. 

SWM 5’10, brown hair, hazel eyes, 30yr old business owner, hopeful romantic seeks SF for friendship and adventure with the potential for something more.  I like to cook and want to make you laugh. UB kind, curious, homebody looking for LTR.     

You’d left a message for him in the extension given by the paper, and then he’d messaged you back almost immediately, inviting you to an afternoon coffee date at a diner in Hawkins.  

You were 98% certain that he did not have the voice of a serial killer, whatever that meant.  

Fairly new to Indiana, you’d never ventured to Hawkins before, and there happened to be a downed tree blocking the exit you would usually take to the highway, forcing you to use the backroads instead.

A glance at your watch let you know you were fifteen minutes early, all things considered.   

The interior of the diner was cozy dark wood with cream tile at your feet.  Burnt orange nestled here and there as accents, including on the vinyl covers for the booth seats. A cigarette smoldered in a brown glass ashtray nearby, and to your right, two women spoke softly across the table to each other, but paused mid-conversation to nod suspiciously in your direction.

Maybe you’d have a chance to find a seat and order something to drink before he—-

3

Steve had to do a double take when he looked up at the sound of the bell ding.  There was a stain on his white Hanes tee the shape of Australia and faint purple moons carved under overly caffeinated, bloodshot eyes. 

 At first, he assumed you were just another patron, but then you met his casual stare with enthusiasm, and offered a nervous yet generous smile, beelining in his direction as if the two of you were familiar.  

You were new, and such a thing was a rare and unsettling thing to see in Hawkins.  

He’d asked Robin to put fliers up at the post office and the library announcing that they were looking for waitstaff help, but that was only a few hours ago.  Surely, someone wasn’t inquiring already.

It was hard for you not to run in the other direction when you saw how handsome he was.  What the hell was a guy that good looking doing paying to post a personal ad?  Better question—-what was a person like you doing answering one?  

He’d been frowning down at the notepad in front of him before he glanced up, warm maple hair long enough to tuck behind his ears. Brown diner mug near his elbow, confusion tightened around his eyes when you jutted an arm out to shake his hand.

You introduced yourself.  “And I thought I was the early one,” your cheeks felt hot, clutching your bag to your side.  

“Uh, hi,” was all he could manage at the time, returning the generous hand squeeze.  It took him a few seconds, but then he realized what the only possible explanation could be.  “You must be here because of the ad?”

You slid into the booth seat across from him.  Maybe he was trying to be funny, like it was some type of dry wit.

“Am I not what you were expecting?” 

“No, no, that’s not—” he stammered, jerking his arm to the side so fast that he hit the coffee mug, causing liquid to splash out onto the table. He clawed some napkins out of the dispenser to wipe up the spill, a stray curl of hair bobbing over his forehead as he did so. “I just mean, I wasn’t expecting you this early, that’s all.”  

You weren’t what he’d been expecting to walk through his door that afternoon in many ways.  

First of all, he was attracted to you, so taking you in as an employee might not be the brightest idea, but also, why had he never seen you around before? Even if he didn’t know everyone in Hawkins personally, they’d all for sure crossed his path at one point.

The town was funny like that.

A hard pit in his stomach told him that you weren’t from town at all, and he really hoped that was not the case, for your sake. 

A few beats of silence hung in the air, and the bell dinged again to herald the exit of Claudia and her friend, chattering as they went.  

“Is the food good here?” You settled back in your seat, eying the display case near the register while shrugging out of your coat.  “The pies look yummy.”

Like a trout thrown to the ground, Steve’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and he pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, finding his words.  “They’re pretty good, yeah, I think. The guy who makes them is a bit of a nut and takes his pastries pretty seriously.”

There were creased paper menus that looked hand-typed tucked in between the ketchup and the tiny, tableside jukebox.  You grabbed one and put it in front of you, eyes roaming over the words without really reading a thing.  

“I didn’t expect you to be so handsome,” your tongue was often faster than your brain, and you flicked a nervous glance up at him after realizing what you’d said.  “Sorry.”

Totally inappropriate for a professional conversation, but why did it make Steve feel all tingly? 

“Don’t be sorry,” he muttered.  To avoid eye contact, he picked up the nearby pencil and started drawing squiggles on the yellow notepad in front of him.  

“Do you have any experience waiting tables?” He cut right to the chase, not that any experience would make a difference. He wasn’t going to be able to pay you, anyway, that wasn’t how it worked around there.  

You were not at all thrown off by the question; you figured there’d be a good helping of small talk.

“For a year in high school, yeah,” you were flicking the corner of the menu with your thumb.  “It was a 24 hour waffle house. Met a lot of interesting people.”

“I bet.” He tried to sound casual, but the nervous eruption of a laugh bubbled out.

So, there it was: you were definitely not from there.  

The idea that you would soon go through the stages of shock and denial and depression that was common for everyone who resided in what they’d once known as Hawkins, made his stomach drop.  

He didn’t want to be the one to watch the light drain from your eyes.  

4

You straightened up from staring at the menu to search for whoever might be behind the kitchen hatch.  “Do we walk up there to give our order? Or will someone come to the table?”

“That’s, um, I can—let me,” Steve stuttered before taking a breath. “Uh, do you know what you want?”

“Just iced tea for now I think,” you were concentrating on the offerings, bottom lip sucked in between your teeth.  “I’m not very hungry. Some of those steak fries maybe? Would you eat some with me?”

There were plenty of mysteries about the town that no one had been able to solve yet, including the way vegetable crops and farm animals showed up in various spots out of the blue. People found garbage bags full of packaged, grocery store quality bread in their backyards as if dropped from the sky.  A few months ago while scavenging, Jonathan Byers stumbled upon a concrete door in the ground that led to a bunker stocked with endless dry goods. Steve didn’t ask questions much anymore, he was just grateful they had resources.

He figured whatever trapped them all there wanted to toy with them and fattened them up for the kill.  

There was something very casual and familiar about your disposition that made him even more curious about what universal tide washed you up onto his shore.

To most people, ending up in their corner of the world felt like a punishment, but one that they’d somewhat adapted to over time. One day, hopefully, you would find your peace with it too.  Maybe even share a piece of pie with him and tell him stories about what he’d missed out in the real world.  

For now, you’d have iced tea and fries and pretend none of the horrors were real.

Steve got up from the booth, tucking his chin as he spoke.   “I’m serious, I’ll make you anything you want.  I mean, within reason.”

Your head snapped up.  “Wait, you work here?”

He couldn’t help but frown at your genuine display of confusion.

“I kinda run the place, yeah. It’s not much but,” he shrugged. “My best friend and I, we—”

You blinked a few times.  “I feel so stupid, I didn’t realize—”

“You’re not stupid,” he interrupted, planting his hands square on his hips. “Gimme…ten minutes, okay? Just need to throw them in the fryer.”

Your head snapped a few quick nods in a row, unable to settle the feelings of embarrassment.

“Oh, wait,” he spun around, snapping his fingers once in the air.  “You like lemon in your tea?” 

“Sure.” The more you looked around, the more you sensed something was really…off about the place.  Not just the diner, but the entire town. 

Outside, the grass was either dead or overgrown and there’d been a wrecked car--possibly and old Chrysler LeBaron---sticking out of an empty public pool on the corner when you first drove in.  You remembered the way those two women at the other table glared at you, like maybe you were not at all welcome there at all, no matter what the tattered doormat out front said.  

Steve returned to set your iced tea in front of you.  There were a couple cubes of ice in the glass, a pretty lemon wedge perched on the lip, and a straw sticking out of it with the paper end still on to protect the sanitation of it.  The only odd thing was the pint glass that it came in: it said Shiloh Inn Lounge on it.  

“Sugar?” At first you thought he was calling you by a pet name and it gave you a heart palpitation,  but instead he set a few packets of actual sugar down that were all different brands. “If you like.”

His eyes were kind and weary and you sensed a weight hanging in the air like maybe he wanted to tell you something but didn’t know how.

He hovered there, refusing to sit back down, and you took that as a hint that he just wasn’t feeling a connection.  If that was the case, you didn’t want to waste any more of your time.  

“If you’re not interested, I understand,” you took the paper off of your red and white striped straw.  “That’s what things like this are for, right? To see if you want to get to know someone better.”

He frowned, cocking his head to one side, curling his lip. “Not interested?”

“You know…in me.” You squeezed a bit of the lemon in. A seed shot out and almost got you in the eye.

Steve softened, crossing one arm over his chest to hold onto the other, absently guarding himself.  “Okay, but why wouldn’t I be interested in you?”

You snorted a laugh.  “You can just say I’m not your type, it’s fine.  You don’t have to be weird about it.”

Outside, an avocado green Ford Pinto pulled up to the curb and parked.  

5

“Why did you come here?” He asked, massaging the elbow area where he clutched his arm.

You considered the weight of that question and all of the answers you could give.  Practically everyone you loved was either dead or no longer a part of your life.  You hated your job with the intensity of a thousand suns, but you’d acquired too much debt to up and quit.  There was no family money or support to act as a safety net; no savings account to pull from.  The last time you were in a committed relationship, you had your heart tramped, and to be honest, your wounds from that were still open and weeping.

All things on the table, you had no business floundering around in the dating world.  You were the walking wounded just looking for a distraction from the emptiness.  

Why did you come here?

“To meet you, obviously,” you scowled into your drink, trying to mask a hot wave of insecurity.  It felt like a hornet was stuck in your throat.  “But I can just go back the way I came, it’s no biggie.”

“See, that’s just it,” he wet his lips a few times.  “You can’t go back the way you came. No one can.”

His heart stuttered at the idea of having to break the news to you right then, or ever, but it would be dark soon, and he’d need to make sure you were safe. Leaving you out without protection, out there for The Others to find you was not an option.  

That made you bark a laugh.  “Oh yeah? What is this? Hotel California?”

The accuracy made him feel like someone just dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt. “Something like that, yeah.”

The front bell dinged again and in walked a dark haired woman with one of the most likable faces you’d ever seen.  The shins of her jeans were dirty like she’d been working in the garden, and there was a tear in the shoulder seam of the hunter green button-down shirt that she’d left untucked.  It was about 2 sizes too big for her, sleeves rolled up so that her hands wouldn’t drown in the material.  

She looked right at you and a vacant smile quivered at the corners of her mouth, as if she was forcing it in place with all her mite. It felt like she had absolutely nothing to be smiling about, but wanted to put you at ease. 

“Hi I’m Joyce,” she held one open palm up in greeting, approaching with the caution of someone trying not to scare off a feral cat.  

“Word travels fast,” Steve muttered under his breath, introducing you.

“Hopper saw the car on his way by,” she progressed to wringing her hands in front of her.  “And I came over to see if it was true.  To see if…see if you needed any help…

…it will be dark in an hour or so.”

They were having a private conversation with their eyes right in front of you and a heady mix of disorientating fear prickled the back of your neck.  

“I think I missed something,” you fisted a handful of the material on your jacket, ready to head for the door.  “I think this was a bad idea.”

But the two of them were blocking your path at that point, and you sensed they had no intention of moving.

“Hey, listen,” Joyce made a steeple out of her hands as if she were about to pray.  “I know this is absolutely not what you want to hear, and believe me, I know it’s bonkers, but we can’t let you get back on that road tonight.”

Your mouth went dry and you turned to Steve thinking he might offer comfort, but his jaw was set, muscles ticking on one side as he ground his back teeth.  

“You can’t be serious.”  You let out a chuckle that was void of humor.

Joyce vibrated loving mother energy and as much as you wanted to get out of that diner, you also wanted to hear whatever it was she had to say.  Maybe even get a hug from her.

“I know this sucks,” she continued.  “It sucks and there’s a lot we need to explain to you, but pretty soon��the roads won’t be safe.”

Your breath caught in your chest, tightening there.

“There’s a spare bedroom at my place,” her expression made it seem like she was offering you a trip to Disneyland. “Clean sheets, I’ve got some soup on the stove. I can take you there now and we can have some coffee, you can meet my sons, and I’ll tell you everything, but you can’t drive back into the woods.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass,” despite the tough exterior, your voice wavered.  “Not to sound ungrateful for the hospitality, but this is crazy.”

You waited for them to burst into laughter and tell you they were kidding.  Ha. Ha. 

“It is fucking crazy, tell me about it,” Steve mumbled. “We just want to make sure you…” he trailed off, staring up as if trying to remember his lines. 

The entire thing was turning out to be some twilight zone shit, and it was no longer amusing. Sure, Steve was hot and you already liked him plenty, but clearly there was lead paint in the water or black mold in the walls because the two people in front of you were off their rockers. 

Your steady gaze landed on your blind date.  “Is that why you put the ad in the paper? So that you could get me here and abduct me?”

“Paper?” Confused, he frowned at Joyce and then at you.  “What paper? What ad?”

Ice and thorns shot through your blood.

“The personal ad, Steve. The one you put in the gazette, the one I answered.  You left a message saying to meet you here.”

When they talk about a “pregnant” pause, well that pause gripped the air like it was having quadruplets. 

“Personal ad?” Joyce peered at Steve, but he only shrugged and shook his head like he had no idea what was going on.  Because he didn’t. 

You raised your voice then, practically shouting.  “And why do you two keep looking at each other like that? What am I missing? You invited me here for coffee and now you’re telling me I can’t leave? This is bullshit, I’m sorry, I’m going.”

You prepared yourself to fight to get beyond them, but they parted easily and gave no resistance when you bolted from the booth, strapping your bag across your body with a grumbled curse.  

“I didn’t put a personal ad in any paper,” Steve said softly, but his words had enough impact to make you freeze in your tracks halfway to the door.  

6

Hawkins, as they knew it, didn’t even have a circulating newspaper anymore.  Nancy and a few others kept The Post going for as long as possible to keep morale afloat with a sense of normalcy, but after a while started to run out of supplies and purpose for such an endeavor, especially since they had no line to the outside world.  She did publish a pamphlet every so often that announced local events, and whenever one of The Others got a hold of a member of the community, she would be the one to break the news to those who weren’t privy to the information.  

…62 Days Without Incident….

“Who did I come here to meet then?” You kept your back to them, asking the question more to yourself.

“Sweetheart, I promise I’ll explain everything to you once we—” Joyce hugged herself as she spoke, watching you storm the rest of the way to the door and then jerk it open to the tune of a violent rattling of the bell.

“Please, wait!” Steve jogged to your side.

“I want you to have this,” he tugged down the front of his shirt to pull out a quarter size, oblong chunk of rock attached to some type of cream colored string.  He lifted it up over his head, fluffing the back of his hair in the process, and held it out to you.

There was some sort of design on the smoke gray stone, a symbol that itched a part of your brain as being familiar.

He had it dangling in front of your face and your stare narrowed beyond the swinging cord to find the colors in his hazel eyes swirling like some uncharted universe.  They made you want to go swimming in the stars.

“If you want to go, I can’t stop you,” he shifted close enough for you to smell the fruity scent of his hair product and coffee on his breath.  “But please wear this.”

You winced at the necklace without touching it.  “What is that?”

You might as well have been asking him to teach you conversational German in the span of ten minutes, even though he only knew a few letters from their alphabet.  

“As long as you have this with you inside wherever you are, They can’t get to you.  I’m telling you, I don’t even know how it works.  But, if you won’t stay here with me or go with Joyce, I need you to put this on and keep all of the windows up on your car.  All of the doors stay locked, got it?”

“Who is They?” You did not receive a verbal answer to your questions, only more clandestine looks.

It hit you like a flying brick just then that they were indeed not being malicious, nor were they trying to drug you to put you in a well and skin you alive.  Steve and Joyce truly believed everything they were telling you: 

Some unspecified Things come out at nightfall and kill people, but wearing a stone around your neck magically keeps them at bay. Got it. 

You didn’t know why they came across as so sheltered and endangered when anyone could hop on the highway and be back in civilization in ten minutes.  There were probably wild animals out there in the woods; coyotes and wolves and maybe even bears, and those were the things that showed up to terrorize the locals at nightfall, not some nocturnal horde of zombies.  

Your survival instinct won out over curiosity, and you mumbled “bye Steve” over your shoulder, dashing out into the parking lot.

Behind you, Joyce took hold of Steve’s arm to keep him from following in your wake.

“She’ll have to learn this one the hard way, unfortunately,” she whispered to him. “Like most of us did.”

They watched you throw yourself in behind the steering wheel, and then heard your door lock after it slammed shut.

“I’ll fix up the cot in the supply room just in case she—-” he didn’t finish, but Joyce knew what he meant. 

You’d be back once you realized there was nowhere else to go, and hopefully your pride wouldn’t keep you out too long after dark. He’d wait up and keep the light on.

Without one of the stones of protection, it wouldn’t matter if you were in a concrete bunker, The Others would still be able to get to you if they wanted to.  

Maybe if you got stranded in your car, you’d be smart enough to hide under a blanket and stay quiet until morning.  

What if you tried to run from them on foot or, worse yet, tried to physically defend yourself? 

As far as Steve knew, those things they called The Others couldn’t be stopped. 

7

You literally squealed out of town, tires leaving fishtail skid marks on the pavement. 

“What the fuck was that?” You mumbled, breathless, eyeballing the two in your rearview mirror as you got back on the highway and were swallowed up by fog.  

The misty forest continued for about a mile, and then it wasn’t long before you were approaching another town.  Had you somehow passed through a similar place without realizing on your way in? Seemed impossible, but you rationalized it as first date nerves getting the best of you.

And what a fucking bonkers “first date” that had been.  One for the books. 

Shame because Steve had one of those faces you’d never get tired of looking at.  

All the same, you were grateful to be out of Hawkins, but you needed gas.  You’d be able to get home with what you had in the tank, but didn’t want to have to take time to fill up on your way to work in the morning.  

On your right, you passed another weathered Welcome to Hawkins sign.

No, that was a mistake.  The natural light was fading rapidly but surely you’d misread it without your headlights on.

You slowed to honor the speed limit through to the center of whatever town it was.  There was an establishment called Melvald’s, a Radio Shack, and further down was a Family Video, but the streets were deserted.  It was barely dusk and not a single soul strolled the sidewalks or drove by in a vehicle.  

A church bell rang in the distance, and you spotted a woman hustling three young children up a flight of stairs. The youngest didn’t seem to be taking the steps fast enough, so she picked him up and carried him the rest of the way to a door that slammed shut as once they were all inside.  

They were acting as if the moonlight was poison and they couldn’t get any on their skin.

Pink and orange blossomed over the horizon while the sun sank behind the mountains, and the church bell persisted with its haunting tune.  A little further and there were cars parked outside of fenced houses, but not a single human or animal to be found. A pair of seats on a swing set swayed back and forth as if occupied by ghosts.

Coming to a halt at a stop sign, there was a very familiar sight:

62 Days Without Incident

The same sandwich board, the same cursive handwriting in black marker in front of the same red brick post office building.

“Nononono..no. This is not right…” you started mumbling to yourself, inching along the pavement.

It wasn't long before you spotted the empty swimming pool with the back end of a wrecked car sticking out of it.  If you turned down that first street, you knew you’d find Benny’s Burgers and Steve probably at the front window, waiting with flex cuffs to tie you up in his basement.

You’d missed a turn, that was all. That was the only explanation.

You went extra slow the next time through the forest, making sure to spot whatever exit or turn you’d missed before.

But then the trees opened up to a town and there was the Welcome to Hawkins sign.  Melvald’s and Radio Shack.  Family Video. 62 Days Without Incident.  Wrecked car in an empty pool.

White knuckle grip on the wheel, frustrated tears welled hot at your lash line.  

“This can’t be right.”

You tried it again, going no more than 10 mph through the woods, and it didn’t help that the smog was billowing thick as cream.

Why hadn’t you passed any other cars on the road?

On your fourth time back around, after a good cry, you reasoned that maybe you’d taken the wrong way out of town somehow, but you’d have to ask someone in the morning and try again due to the staggering lack of visibility you were currently faced with. 

Plus, according to your gas gauge, you’d be coasting on nothing but fumes soon.

Wiping wet cheeks with the back of your hand, you flicked the blinker and coasted in under a metal awning alongside two gas pumps that were connected to a single mechanics garage and a mini mart.

“Please be open,” you said to the glass front door of the service station which, once again, looked like it had been abandoned for the evening, or possibly for the entire year. 

When you turned the engine off you realized that the church bell was no longer thumping to the beat of your headache, and the dead calm silence settled around like a veil, much like the ambiance of a horror film.

The type of horror film your character didn’t make it out of.

You shook your head and thought about slapping yourself in the face.  This was all just some wild mixup.  You’d get gas, get a room at the motel you’d spotted a few blocks back, and find your bearings first thing in the morning.  

Deep breaths in and out of your nose a few times while you sat trying to psych yourself up to get out and find someone to pay for the gas, pending the pumps weren’t dry.

Relief blossomed when you spotted a person approaching from the street.  With each steady step, they took their time to cross the distance, as if calculating if they should .

“Oh thank god, a person,” you said on an exhale.

8

He was balding, but his dishwater blonde hair was combed over to try and hide it, he wore an oddly formal brown suit jacket and slacks. Polka dot orange and chocolate necktie, his hands relaxed at his sides, he reminded you of a used car salesman thinking he spotted an easy mark.  

The smile was wide and plastered to his face, unwavering, as if his teeth were clamped shut and he was gritting through some private pain

“Hey,” you said, stepping out of the car, but keeping the open door in front of you as a barrier. “I was hoping to get some gas.  Do you happen to know if anyone works here?”

His pace did not falter, nor did his deranged grin. 

You thought maybe he hadn’t heard you clearly at first, so you waited for him to get a few feet closer.  Nearly three car lengths away at that point and you made the decision to stay put, ignoring the sharp gut instinct telling you to start the engine and go.  

“Sorry, do you work here?” You weren’t sure why that came out of your mouth considering his attire. “I only need a couple gallons.  I have cash if—-”

“You shouldn’t be here,” the smiling man said, maintaining a show of teeth.

He also said your name.  Somehow, he knew your name.

An alarm went off in your gut.  “Do I know you?”

You hadn’t yet had time to process the idea that you’d gone to the wrong place entirely for your date, and Steve wasn’t even the one you were supposed to meet.  

The smiling man got closer, only a car length away by then.  

With a start, you noticed that a woman in an old fashioned Nurse uniform—like the type one might wear for Halloween—was not far behind the man in the suit, headed toward you at the same pace with her hair done in two platinum blonde braids..

Her smile was not as wide but just as unsettling.  

“Hello?” You yelled in the direction of the service station, knowing you should go over and try to knock, but your feet felt like they had concrete shoes on.  

“Hello?” A high-pitched voice came from somewhere behind you, and it was clearly mocking, complete with a maniacal giggle at the end.  

You spun around to find that the smog was a curtain, and you were unable to see beyond it.  It was gathering around you legs too, as if preparing to drag you into the void.

Disoriented and panting, you watched a car come flying up over the curb, gunning the engine so hard that one of the hubcaps flew off.

The avocado green Ford Pinto caught air for a second before the bumper crashed into the smiling man, bending him in half like a rag doll.  It pinned him into the stone of the building with a loud, sickening crunch. 

You would’ve screamed but your breath caught on a sharp inhale, making you choke.  

Clearly broken by the impact, the smiling man’s expression never faultered, and he was still staring pointedly at you while bits from the wall crumbled around him.

Black blood dripped from his lips and eyes like tar.

“Fuckfuckfuckwhatthefuck,” you babbled while Joyce flapped her arms to try and get your attention from the window of the passenger seat.

“Hurry, get in!” She shouted, her voice cracking at the end.

Steve was driving, and he backed up enough so that the body of the smiling man slumped to the ground.

Throwing the vehicle into park, Steve bolted from his seat with what looked like a baseball bat covered in jumbo nails like a medieval mace. 

He swung to strike the woman in the nurse uniform with it, but missed, and she hissed at him. Her mouth grew 5 times its original size, crowded full with rows of sharp teeth.  Her eyes stretched into empty, cavernous holes with nothing behind them, her fingers were long claws and her…her….

It was then that you realized you were screaming.

9

“Steve watch out!” Joyce had a hold of your hand, dragging you along with all of her mite.

The thing that was once the woman in the nurse uniform let out a shrill cry just before the nail bat made contact with its skull.  Its head whacked into the side of the Pinto and bounced off, causing a spray of black blood.

It barely made a difference.  

It lunged jerkily and swiped at him; mouth gaping, eyes two spirling tunnels to hell, but before it could make contact, Joyce pulled a tiny firearm out of her sleeve and took aim, cracking the thing in the cheek with a bullet. 

“I hate these things,” she muttered under her breath while the tip smoked, and you weren’t sure if she meant guns or the Other thing that tried to take a bite out of Steve; possibly both.

The nurse stumbled back behind the pumps and fell out of view.

“GET. IN.” Joyce was stronger than she looked as she stuffed you into the back seat of the Pinto.  In haste, you scraped your knee on a piece of metal behind the passenger seat, but had no idea until you saw the blood running down your leg some time later.  

The smiling man shuffled to his feet like he was being tugged up by strings.

His guts were spilling out of him but yet, he was able to stand.  Stand and smile.  With inky ooze dripping from everywhere like melting wax.  

Joyce was in the process of shutting her door as Steve backed up.  You felt the jarring bump when the wheels went over the nurse.  

You caught Steve’s eye in the rearview mirror.  “Are you okay?” He demanded.  “Did any of them touch you?”

On the seat next to you was the nail bat; some of the nurses’ blonde hair was sticking to it.

“No, uh, no, I don’t think so. What are they? Did you just kill that woman? Take me back to my car.  Tell me what is going on!”

He was lightning fast on the gears once he’d backed up into the street, just in time for you to see the nurse sit upright; black tar leaking from the hole in the back of her head. 

“That’s not a woman,” he grunted, flooring the pedal. “It's not even human.”

“What does that mean?” Shaking, you listened to your own horrified voice as if from a distance.

Joyce swiveled in her seat to give you the best comforting twist of her lips that she could muster.  “I’ll do my best to explain, back at the diner.”

“Why aren’t they dead?” You whined, staring back at the nurse one last time before the gas station disappeared in the smog.

Through the window you saw that there were more of those Things that resembled people lining the sidewalk, standing shoulder to shoulder. They swarmed in from the shadows one by one to watch the vehicle pass with vested interest.  

Their eyes followed you like the pinto was a one-man parade. Or perhaps a meals-on-wheels.

“Where did they all come from?” You asked, almost certain you wouldn’t get an answer.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Steve sighed.

He was awfully calm considering what you’d just witnessed.

From the rearview mirror dangled a similar stone to the one Steve wore around his neck, suspended by cream string or twine.  

There was a crackling noise and then a new voice sounded like it was coming from a radio.

“Joyce, are you there?” A pause and more crackling. “Need you to talk to me Joyce. Harrington? Anyone?”

There was a CB radio attached to the dash.  Joyce unhooked the mouthpiece from its metal hinge and put it to her mouth, depressing the side button.

“I’m here, Hop,” Joyce was doing her best not to sound rattled, adjusting her collar.  Her glance flicked to the back seat.  “We’re safe.  We got her.”

The following silence hissed static before Hopper cleared his throat.  “Good, that’s good.  And Steve?”

“He’s here,” she assured.  “Not a scratch.”

Jim was all the way on the other side of town about to take his shoes off and have some of the potato vodka his buddy Scott distilled in his basement when he got word that Joyce and Steve were going after you.  He’d begged Joyce to wait for him, but knew she wouldn’t.  He’d sped to the scene as fast as he could.

“I’ll be at Benny’s in two,” he said.  “Be careful. Over and out.”

10

Gravel crunched under the tires as Steve pulled into the diner.  Three of the things with the same posture as the smiling man were slinking out of the woods.  Two from the left, and one from around the corner on the right.  

They had the same lock-jawed grins, but this time, one was a high school boy in a green letterman’s jacket, one was an elderly woman in a robe with a shower cap on her head, and the third was a boy no older than twelve.

Disarming at first, but then you recognized the dead eyes, assessing you like a shark.

“There’s more,” Joyce gestured behind at the handful that were meandering up from the street. They all had a certain gait to them; like those serial killers in movies to go at a snail pace, but somehow always catch up to the victim. 

Steve looked over his shoulder to get a look through the back window, and then his gaze landed on you again.

His scowl was more stern than he meant for it to be.  “If you run, I can’t promise I’ll be able to save you again,” he swallowed, softening.  “Joyce is going to head into the diner first, you follow her, and I’ll take up the rear, got it?”

You thought you gave a response, but maybe not.

“Nod if you understand,” he rumbled.

“I understand,” you said weakly, noticing that your cheeks were wet.

The things had the gait of zombies, but they were far from brain dead, and their skin suits weren’t composed of rotting flesh.  Aliens, maybe? Vampires? How the fuck was this even happening? 

“Ready?” Joyce had her fist around the door handle, ready to jump out and push her seat forward for your exit.

The old woman and the little boy with a mop of raven hair were only a few yards away, and you remembered how the nurse’s face had changed into a horrific maw of terror.

“Don’t look at them,” Joyce urged.  “You just grab onto the back of my shirt and keep your eyes forward.  They’re scary fuckers, but they are also really slow.”

You broke through the wall of fear that had you frozen in place, and tried not to think about how close the old woman was when you bolted from the back seat and tripped.  

Of course you would trip.

Your knee caught all of your weight making you gasp in pain, but a surge of adrenaline pushed you through it, snatching Joyce’s hand as you went.

“Good to see you again, Joyce,” the old woman purred.  “Who is your friend?”

“Fuck you!” Joyce said from the front door of the diner, yanking a janitor cluster of keys from the crossbody bag she wore.  

You kept your gaze glued to the back of her head, but peripheral vision showed that the duo were almost within arms reach.  Ice cold breath prickled down your spine.

Steve was behind you then, warm body crushed against yours, shielding you from the Others while Joyce undid the lock. All of you practically landed in a dogpile on the floor inside the diner.  

Joyce sank down on the ground right where she was on the tile, panting while the strange Others begin to huddle at the entrance, peering in at you with salacious intent.

“She’s pretty,” the little boy said. “We just want to introduce ourselves.”

“You can’t keep her from us forever,” said the guy in the letterman’s jacket. Now that you had a closer look, you could see that the gums around his pearly white teeth were the color of rot.  

Steve rolled his shoulders back, nostrils flaring while he maintained the stand-off with nothing but a single pane of glass between them.  .

You took hold of his arm, unnerved by how close he was and how easily the glass could be shattered.

“Steve, get away from—-”

“They can’t do shit,” he snapped, more to them than to you. He pointed to a stone that was ten times the size of the one around his neck and mounted on the wall.  “They can’t touch us now.”

How those rough cut rocks with some type of symbol carved into the surface kept anything out was another mystery.  Was it like the symbol of the cross for demons and vampires?

Were those things some breed of demon?

Blinded by a sudden white flash, you had to shield your face when a pair of headlights bounced into the lot. 

“It’s Hopper,” Joyce sounded relieved, getting to her feet.  

The three that had been crowding at the door to leer in at you shuffled off to go and check it out.

The next thing you heard was the discharge of a gun.  The jolt of it made you throw your arms around Steve, but then you quickly pushed off, clutching a hand over your heart.

Another gunshot, and then another.

One more for good luck.  

A large man in a tan uniform and a substantial mustache squeezed his thick shoulders through the diner door, holstering his gun.  He took his hat off once he was inside and swept a large hand through the new haircut Joyce had given him.  

Outside, you could see the high school kid face down on the ground, sprawled like a starfish.

“It won’t kill them,” Hopper said, as if he could read your thoughts.  “But it does slow them down a bit.”

He fished a toothpick from his front pocket and bit down on it.  “We try to keep bullet use to a minimum, but that sure felt good.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Joyce tucked herself under his open arm and hugged him.  “I told you Steve and I had it covered.”

“Yeah, well,” he closed his eyes and perched his chin on the top of her head.  “It’s not every day we get someone new in town.”

You must’ve looked like you were about to throw up or pass out because Steve started making comforting circles on your back with the flat of his hand.  

“You guys are only a few miles off the freeway,” the synapses in your brain were still fighting for a chance to make sense of it all.  “How do the authorities not know about this?”

You couldn’t peel your attention away from the sprawled body out on the pavement.  In the distance, groups of Others lumbered toward the building.

“I am the authorities,” the man introduced as Jim Hopper said with a glint of humor in his eye.  

“She’s with me,” Steve blurted. The comment came so far out of left field that everyone turned to stare at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.  

“I mean,” he stammered, nibbling his bottom lip. “She can stay here with me if she wants, on the pullout in the store room.  I’ll be fine in one of the booths.”

There were 7-8 of those things waiting outside the door at that point, including the ones that had been shot by Hopper, but those were all rising like marionettes by then.  A busty woman with long red hair joined the stalkers, as well as a balding middle-aged man, and what appeared to be an elderly Priest.  

Hopper put his hat down on a nearby table and sank into a chair as if it was just another day.  “Coffee if you’ve got it.”

“Um, yeah, sure, I’ll make a fresh pot,” Steve moved around the partition toward the kitchen, grazing your hand with the tips of his fingers to urge you to move with him.

He leaned over to whisper.  “We need to wait 15-20 minutes before they can go back out.  Those things will get bored and wander off somewhere else.  Back to hell or wherever they are from.”

“Sit here,” he tapped the end of the counter and a padded stool so that he could talk to you while he made the brew.  

11

He put several scoops of grounds into a filter at the top of the machine and made sure it was filled with water.  He’d removed his flannel at some point, and you caught yourself watching his back muscles twitch under the thin material of his white tee. The water he used was not from the sink, but in a plastic gallon jug with a duct taped handle.

You were still standing when he turned and wiped his hands down his denim-clad hips.

“That guy at the gas station,” you started.  “The one you…the one in the suit, he…”

Tasting bile, you tried to find your words and Steve did not try to rush you.

“That thing…he knew my name. How could he know that?”

On an exhale, Steve leaned forward to rest his forearms on the counter.  He wanted nothing more than to be able to put you at ease and say you had nothing to worry about, but alas.

“Yeah so it’s one of those mysteries I’ve been trying to figure out since I got here,” he opened his hand and ran his thumb over the calluses on the opposite palm.  “They know things they shouldn’t know and they survive things no living organism should survive.  The only way we know how to kill them is—-”

“Since you got here?” You blurted.  “Did you just show up like I did? How long have you been here?”

“Well, I guess you could say I showed up like you did, but not really,” he rolled his head, stretching the sides of his neck so that something popped.  “One day I was in a place I refer to as Normal Hawkins, and then I was in this very different version of the same town.  We all were.”

“Wait, so,” you frowned, simultaneously comforted by the familiar warm scent of brewing coffee. The machine spit and sputtered. “You mean this isn’t Hawkins?”

“No, it is,” he swiped a tongue over his top teeth. “It’s hard to explain.  Robin and I have been reading up on, you know, alternate universes and such.  Parallel worlds.  We think this might be one of those.”

“Robin?” Your eyebrow shot up.  

“My best friend. I mentioned her before.”

“Oh yes, right. Where is she tonight?”

“Safe at home, I hope,” he went over to get a couple mismatched mugs from a light blue drying rack. “We used to live together but she moved in with her girlfriend and—” he stealed himself, realizing he was about to ramble on about his personal life.   

“We’re out of cream today, but I have a lot of sugar,” he plucked a few packets from his magic apron pocket: one pink, one white, and one brown.  

He loved offering you sugar.

He took the other two steaming mugs over to Joyce and Hopper while you stirred in the white crystals with a tiny spoon.  It crossed your mind that maybe never left your apartment, and were actually asleep on the couch, dreaming all of this.  

Easing down to take a reluctant seat, you perched on the edge of the stool. The deep orange of the upholstery was worn and split down the middle, exposing the white stuffing.

You took a peek over your shoulder to find that half of those Things were gone; only the redhead, the priest, and the high school kid remained.  Where the bullet hole tore through his cheek was almost completely healed, but the weeping black blood remained like tear-soaked mascara.

His evil smile widened when he caught your eye, making you swiftly spin away.  You scooted down to the opposite end of the counter so that you wouldn’t be within view.

Steve observed your seat change and did what he should’ve done when they first got there, which was to walk over and pull the shades down to cover the glass on the door.  He was so used to ignoring them, he’d forgotten what it was like to comprehend their existence for the first time.

“I promise, you’re safe in here with us,” Steve leaned in to whisper. “I don’t know how the stones work, but they do.”

In a few days, it would be exactly two years since he’d been forced to cohabitate with those…ghouls.

A ghoul was the closest he’d come to describing them.  But they weren’t a typical braindead zombie on the ravenous hunt for fresh organs like he’d seen in the old George Romero movies; they were unfortunately intelligent and possessed some type of psychic ability or hive mind.

The only thing that could kill them was decapitation, which also synced up with common zombie lore. If bitten or attacked, the person afflicted did not turn into one of them, which was a small mercy.  Steve’s good friend Tommy had been one of the first to meet such a fate; they’d buried all of his mauled body parts out near Skull Rock.  

Twenty months later, there were several rows of marked graves to accompany him.

“Steve?” He liked the way you said his name.  

“Uh huh,” popping a hip out to rest it on the counter, he took a sip of his coffee from a Star Wars Ewok mug, addressing you over the rim.

“So, you never put a personal ad in the newspaper?” One hand was trembling, so you slotted it between your knees. 

He inhaled to speak, but you continued.  “The voice message I got sounded just like you, and it told me to meet you here.”

Your mug was beige with brown lettering that said: Accountant’s Never Die, They Just Lose Their Balance.

“It wasn’t me,” he said softly.  “Believe me, I would never want to drag anyone into this.”

He continued, frowning.  “I wonder if it was Other Steve that put the ad in the paper?

“Other Steve?”

He shrugged.  “I mean, if this is a case of parallel worlds, there is a chance that there is another version of me back in that other version of Hawkins.  The version that didn’t keep us trapped like rats in a cage.”

Even though it sounded ludacris, you considered it, because even that was quite a bit more comforting than the alternative.

He said your name, making you look up.

“So, you were supposed to go on a date with some other Steve guy?” It had been a while since he felt that particular brand of jealousy. “What a small world.”

“You could say that,” you swallowed, feeling judged. “I should’ve known that the only promising personal ad would lead to more horrors.”

He gave a low chuckle, feeling bad for the other parallel version of him who probably waited at Benny’s for a solid hour, thinking he got ditched.  

If only Other Him knew you were absolutely worth waiting for.  

“Steve?” 

“Mhmhm,” he scratched the stubble on his jaw.

“Are we dead?” It bubbled out of your chest as you stared into your coffee.  “Did I die out there on the highway or something?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, tucking his chin. “I’ve wondered that too, like, a lot, but I don’t think this is the end.  I think we’ll make it out of here one day.  I know we will.”

Something vibrated in the shared silence and you found yourself staring at his parted lips.

“I’m not ready to die.”

Your whisper was interrupted by a sudden, obnoxious noise coming from the back room.

It sounded like the rattling of a doorknob, like someone trying to get in.

12

“Stay here,” Steve instinctively grabbed the closest and biggest knife, held it aloft like Michael Myers, and went to investigate.

He put a hand over the stone under his shirt too, reminding himself that this building was protected.  Those things could try to open the door, but even then they’d be powerless to step over the threshold, much like a vampire without a proper invitation.

The ghouls that had been huddling like cattle at the front door were all gone as far as you could see, and you wondered if maybe they’d wandered around to try another way in.

“What’s going on?” Jim scooted his chair out and stood to see why Steve was holding the knife like that.

Without answering, Steve made his way around a metal supply rack, eyes narrowing on the brass knob of the back door.  

It was wiggling violently, causing Steve’s heart to explode in his throat.

The jostling stopped only long enough for there to be a loud thud and quake of the door frame while whatever was on the other side rammed itself against the wood. 

By then, Hopper had unholstered his gun and was on his way over.  

You and Joyce had the same idea at the same time and both started looking for a weapon.  Joyce found a pair of scissors, but all you could find was a fork.

“Let me in, motherfuckers!”  A voice shouted from the other side of the door.

Another thud, more frantic twisting of the knob.

“Wait,” Steve put his hand up to slow Hopper from going ahead of him.

The possible intruder went still.

“Munson?” Steve asked.  “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me man. You need a secret code or something? I’ve got one of those freaks on my ass, please open the fuck up!”

Hopper’s shoulders sagged and he lowered his weapon.  Out of habit, Steve checked above the door to make sure the protection stone was still mounted there before he searched to see where you were.  The ghouls were capable of mimicking voices to trick people into dropping defenses for them, but if there was even a tiny chance it really was Eddie, he had to check it out.

He planned to drill a peephole in that door the first chance he got.

Steve twisted open the lock and stepped way back.  “It’s open.”

The guy who blew into the kitchen before slamming the door behind him to lean against it shivering was definitely not one of those things from earlier.

Panting, Eddie clicked the lock.  “Fuck me Harrington, that thing almost got me. There were two of them, fuck, maybe ten.  I stopped counting once I started running.”

“Eddie, what happened?” Joyce pushed by Hopper.  “Where are your shoes?”

It was just then that you realized Eddie’s feet were bare. He wore a pair of tattered jeans and a worn shirt with the faded phrase Hellfire Club on the front.  His long hair was wet and if he’d already taken a shower, the looks of his feet said he needed another one.

“Leave it to me to lock myself out of the trailer again,” his teeth were chattering, and without asking for one, Joyce handed him a multicolored, crocheted blanket from the broom closet to put around his shoulders.  “I was headed over to find Wayne at Claudia’s, but then I got cornered and well, the rest is history.”

“Why didn’t you use the front door?” Steve crossed his arms with the point of the knife sticking up.

“I don’t know, man,” Eddie pulled the blanket tight around himself like a cocoon and shut his eyes tight.  “Why doesn’t anyone do anything?  Sorry if I scared you or whatever.”

Joyce introduced you as Eddie shuffled out to the dining area, and all he said was, “hey,” in greeting before he slumped into one of the booths, adjusting so that his back was to the wall and his legs straight along the bench seat.

“You got any shoes I can borrow?” The visitor with the long, wet hair asked Steve. 

Steve put the knife back in the slot with the others.  “Borrow as in I get them back tomorrow or borrow as in they become yours and I’ll never see them again?”

“Just forget it,” Eddie grunted.  It wasn’t long before Steve threw a pair of flip flops at him and brought him a cup of coffee.

“Looks like it’s safe for us to split,” Jim announced a few minutes later, putting his hat back on. The parking lot was quiet, and even if there were any creepy ghouls nearby, they’d be able to get behind the wheel of their cars without making contact.  

“You need a ride back to your place, Eddie?” Joyce asked while she walked their coffee mugs over to the back sink. “I still have a spare key from that time you let me and Will stay there.”

“Yeah that’s cool,” Eddie said absently.  His attention had shifted and you realized he was staring at you.

“So, wait, you’re new here?” Eddie asked. 

“Just came into town a few hours ago,” Steve answered somberly.

You’d been sitting with your back to Eddie, but then turned on your stool to make eye contact across the room.

“Shit, that sucks,” Eddie blurted.  “I mean, you don’t suck, but just like, I’m not sure what type of bad luck makes people end up here.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you simply nodded a few times in agreement; it did, indeed, feel like bad luck, or something worse.

After a beat, Eddie cleared his throat.  “You, um, don’t happen to have any smokes on you by chance?”

“Yeah, I do, actually,” you could almost hear a soft whine of relief come out of him.  “Well, not on me. There’s an untouched pack in the glovebox of my car but it’s…”

You trailed off realizing that your bag with all of your ID and personal shit were back in the car, too.  You’d left in such a hurry, the keys were probably still in the ignition. Fuck, the last thing you needed was for someone to steal your car and your bag.  Could those zombie things drive? You’d almost forgotten about that secret pack of Camel Lights that you’d stuffed in there for emergencies, but you never expected it to be for an actual emergency.  

“Yeah? Where’s your car?” He sat up, alert.  

“Back at the gas station,” Joyce rolled up one of her oversized cuffs.  “There was a run in with a few of those Things earlier and we had to leave in a hurry.”

“I should probably go back there and get my things,” you mused. 

“Not a good idea, not tonight,” Steve interrupted, swinging his arm out as if to block you from the rest of the group.  “In the morning I’ll take you.  Those things usually don’t bother with inanimate objects, unless they are attached to a living-breathing human.”

Eddie mumbled. “Better not catch one of them enjoying a fresh cigarette, or I’m gonna be pissed.”

You stood up, addressing Eddie. “If you want to go by there and take the pack, you are welcome to them. I quit a while ago, so—”

“Yeah, so did I,” Eddie blew a raspberry of a laugh. “But not willingly. They don’t exactly grow on trees here.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest again, rolling his shoulders back.  “I don’t think anyone should be making any unnecessary stops tonight.”

“I agree,” Hopper voiced.

“I’d say it’s necessary,” Eddie countered, knowing that Steve was right.  The safety of morning light would come soon enough.  

Steve shut off the overhead lights and released the blinds that covered the door to peer out.  Eddie shuffled over in Steve’s flip flops and the blanket around him like a little kid leaving for a sleepover.

The three made the decision to take Hopper’s Bronco, and Joyce told Steve to take care.  She kissed his cheek while Eddie gave him a fist bump that Steve seemed unsure how to respond to at first.

“See ya later, alligator,” Steve told them before turning the lock to seal the building again.

You stood side by side and watched until they were safely on the road.  In their wake, something bolted out of the woods and threw its head back to wail like a beast.  It had a bald head and pointed ears and crouched to all fours like an animal.

“Why is that one different than the others?” You asked, clutching onto Steve’s arm.  

“We think those are the older ones,” he cleared his throat.  “But there are only a few of them that I know of.”

“Why do you think they’re older?”  Your gaze was locked on the Thing as it lumbered back out of sight.  

Steve shifted on his feet before pulling the blinds back down.  “It’s just a hunch really, but they seem to be faster and smarter than the others.  Those are the ones that can mimic voices.”

You shrugged away and put your face in your hands.  “This can’t be real.  This has to be a fucking nightmare.”

“It is a nightmare alright,” Steve agreed with you.  “But the thing is, we’re not asleep.”

“How do you know that though? This is probably one of those deep REM dreams that we won’t even remember once we wake up.”

“If this is a dream,” he had his hands on his hips and the sides of his mouth wiggled with a repressed grin.  “How can I find you when we wake up? Do you have a phone number I can call or?”

You shifted your gaze to the floor so that you wouldn’t get lost in his eyes.  “When you wake up, put another personal ad in the paper for me to find.”

“Deal,” he offered a genuine smile that time.  The guy had perfect teeth; it almost made you self-conscious.

13

You had the impression that Steve lived somewhere on the premises, but that was not the case.  The “spare room” he’d mentioned was a cot in the pantry. Apparently he lived in the family home he’d grown up in, but crashed at the diner more often than not. He changed the sheets and threw a Sesame Street comforter on that had probably once been on a twin bed for a child while you were in the bathroom. He handed you a spare toothbrush and before you went in, you asked if the toilet worked.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Steve was honestly confused.

“Well,” you gestured around vaguely.  “If this is some type of post-apocalyptic wasteland where nothing new comes or goes, where is the electricity and water coming from?”

There was a main generator that powered the town, but he didn’t have a chance to get the words out.

Your throat constricted.  “We are dead, we have to be.”

“Because the toilets flush?” He chuckled.

You bristled with annoyance and turned away.  Not annoyance with Steve in particular but with your shit show of a life that refused to let you know peace.  

“Hey listen, I know—-” Steve reached out for you only to freeze his hand in mid-air.

There was music coming from the dining area.

The sound was shrill static at first but then the chorus bloomed, and it took you a second to recognize that the song was When the Night Comes by Joe Cocker.

“I just wanna be the one you run to

I just wanna be the one you come to

I just wanna be there for someone

When the night comes”

“Steve…what is happening?” With each word you were moving toward the sound, disregarding the protests of your gut.

“Let's put all the cares behind us

And go where they'll never find us”

With the only other light being the moon shining through the slats in the blinds, the neon red and yellow caught your attention.

At a table near the window was a replica of an old jukebox, no taller than a bowling ball.  There was a coin slot at the top and white buttons at the bottom to choose from the flipcards with song titles on them.  As you approached, you checked out the window above it to see the shadows made by rows of trees and wondered what could possibly be lurking there, observing you.

“It does that sometimes,” Steve was a few steps behind, combing fingers through his hair.

“Two spirits in the night

That can leave before the morning light

When there's nothing left to lose

And nothing left to fear”

You stood at the end of the booth and stared at the machine.  “Is it the same song every time?”

“Different ones,” his chest was inches from your back, his warm breath on your neck. “But this one is a favorite.”

“I know there'll be a time for you and I

Just take my hand and run away”

“Do you want to wear this?” He’d picked up the flannel and put it over your shoulders.  “I saw you shivering.”

“Think of all the pieces of the shattered dream

We're gonna make it out some day”

Without taking your eyes off of the jukebox, you let him wrap the wool shirt with a quilted lining over you and then, without hesitation, your hand slipped into his and he held it there, interlacing his fingers to step to your side.

A strange weight lifted off of you at the idea of not being able to go home.  

“Do you really think we’ll get out of here one day?” You asked in a whisper.

“I just wanna be there beside you

When the night comes”

Steve admired your profile.  “I hope so,” his voice was a murmur.  “But it doesn’t seem so bad here all of a sudden.”

The jukebox did not run on batteries and it was not plugged into a socket on the wall.

You tipped your chin up slowly to meet his gaze and, just then, out in the street, something inhuman scampered through the parking lot and into the woods.  

His thumb gently rubbed along yours and you could smell a touch of cologne on the flannel.

“Steve, I think we should have some pie.”

He was staring at your mouth while he nodded in agreement.

The music cut off before the song was finished, and the jukebox went dark.

-----

My friends, thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed.

-----

[jadkyll]

i like thinking about azul and a spiritual reader-

cw: azul has a single thought alluding to his past body issues, azul doesn’t believe in zodiacs 😞 but he will now 😼

—

azul seeing you one day, legs across your heartslabyul friends lap on a bench in the court yard.

jade, actually, was the one to point you out (more like sharply elbow into his gills- ribs he meant!) to the octomer.

you were boredly flicking through your phone as the one called ‘mackeral’ by floyd chased grim around groups of lingering students. “like those cartoons of the chicken chasing the wolf” floyd mused with his brother. but azul was too busy screen peeking as he walked by.

you were on that mage-tok, and a document in your notes.

azul’s eyes widen when you scroll down and start typing into search ‘retrograde’- yet he was too far past to see what else you were typing.

he didn’t need to look back to know what you were searching.

“it seems like our little prefect is looking for some… celestial guidance” jade’s smile is damning as he looks at his brother, arms lyingly behind his head giving the moray a bored demeanor.

yet his brother and octofriend know the truth. the three already devising a plan.

‘a happy accident’ azul scowls externally at the memory of jade’s knowing eyes. but what was worse than that stupid glint in his eye was the evil shine in his pearly white, carnivorous smile.

a shit eating grin, if you would.

azul shook himself of the thought and paced in front of the ‘operation: make [name] fall in love with the power of fate!’ or MNFLPF for short.

“man i dunno why’re yer so outta shape ov’r this.” azul’s pacing stops at the lilt in floyd’s voice.

“because” azul swiftly runs both of his pointer fingers and thumbs across the metal pointer. azul’s oversized jacket ruffling as he steps towards the lounging eels. dressed to the nines in their monstro lounge uniforms, azul had called them in for a ‘strategy meeting for next month.’ yet here they were, staring you and 20 red, dizzying strings in the face. wrapped around thumb tacks like kelp to a boat’s motor, the connected to different photos, written paragraphs, a star chart? no. two star charts.

your’s and- presumably- azul’s

“there is no such thing as fate, only preparation, hard work, grit” azul squeezes his baton inspirationally.

“but” his face softens, his shoulders relaxing into an almost dissapointed shrug. “[name] thinks differently- which is why” he takes a step back, smacking the chart with it’s own lines and symbols on it. “-we’re going to push her in the right direction?” jade finished with a poised sip of tea, legs crossed elegantly compared to his brother’s brutish man spreading.

“precisely” azul hums.

“why not just ask ‘er out?” floyd asks, drilling for gold in his ear, inspecting it, it appears he got nothing. he meet’s his ‘boss’’ gaze in a challenge.

“it’ll beat whatever” he ways his pinkie dismissingly “this is”

“none sense floyd. if azul think’s he needs help from the stats then let him consult his lucky one. who are we to judge, hm?” jade sips his tea, hooded eyes drinking in the offended octopi’s expression.

“you- no! i am merely convincing [name] that i am the right one via playing along with their horoscope.” he points to a ‘O’ with horns, bright red marker under it.

“according to” he rolls his eyes at the twin’s snickering “the stars- yes yes, it says that for the next month a ‘romantic oppurunity will make itself known, so stay villgient’ verbatium from the app they use- privy to jade and his, resources”

jade’s free gloved hand bows for him, floyd ‘whooping’ and celebrating his twin. a ‘go jade!’ spurring the twin to stand up and full bow. floyd only started clapping aggressively not because he cared, but because of the blooming blue blush that was making it was on azul’s cheeks.

“enough!” his hand slashes for attention and respect! his foot stomping in anger and a juvenile show of emotions. but the twins shaking bodies quickly deflates the bubble of control. a defeated sigh and a calming brush through his silver locks, his pinkie catching his long bang, he looks back to the board.

he circled the board once to attempt diffusing his embarrassment. “so for the entire month i will put myself and the prefect in situations where attraction can- and will, spark. that may lead to further progressions in our relationship-“

“just ask ‘em out!” the twins had sat down in their respected spots on the couch like nothing happened. floyd, not one to keep his thoughts to himself sounds from the peanut gallery.

azul ignores him, turning to the board with an eyes roll.

“now!” he swats the board again “the plan.”

“so the plan’s bullshit”

by the end of the month azul and the twins had navigated rose mazes in heartslabyul and scaled sand dunes in scarbia and had nothing to show for it.

except for an embarrassing amount of black mail material the twins had gathered up. that was something that made this whole crapshot worth it.

by some higher power (jade thinks the universe should tip them for keeping you safe from azul’s tentacular hold) you had alluded and or missed every attempt azul had planned to ensnare your heart by convenience.

your umbrella was magically missing? why, a kind soul like azul has one to spare! better yet, why not share it?

except he didn’t account for you hoisting your jacket over your head, grim’s fat stomach tussling you hair as you both held onto the makeshift covering and ran for it.

tsk. fine. one of many plans he had in mind.

your lunch money was pick picketed by an expert thief [for hire]? how troubling indeed dear prefect, how about you allow him to- and off you ran to your friends, chastising ace about him ‘owing you one from that one time that one time’

azul bites his lip in a vain attempt to control his emotions.

no matter, he has ample opportunity.

yet none came as time after time his plans would get foiled by you or own of your anemone friends.

it was the last day of the month on a full when azul decided, uncharacteristically of him, to go on a moonlit walk. usually, his daily routine guided him into his dorm at the end of the day, yet a flicker of melancholy and nostalgia of lonely moonlit night spurred this need for moonlight.

so there he was, on a bench head in his lap and hands tugging his hair as his mind races over the prolonged abuse he had suffered.

he’d never admit it, bur with each attempt his heart sunk lower, and deeper into the pits of this human stomach he’s borrowing. yet with grit in his teeth and determination in his eye he stoodfast and did his best. azul prided himself in the thought that he was better than everyone else.

over coming the tragedy of childhood loneliness is a feat many cannot brag about, but not him. he showed them, beat every single bully at their own game, rose to the tops in academia and had the oppurunity to continue his studies on land- something his classmates can only dream of.

he’s azul ashengrotto! a house warden in his sophmore year, en-route to be salutatorian points behind riddle rosehearts, he has a successful business at the age of 17 for crying out loud! he is better! smarter! skinnier than everyone else! so why-

“hey-“

azul jerks up with a gasp. eyes stinging behind his foggy glasses, novemeber air biting his nose.

fuck.

it was you.

“you okay?” cold air puffed from your lips as you tilted your head quizzically. he hated the way your eyes carful picked at him, he felt exposed in you gaze. so he did what he did best, and hid behind his practiced charm.

“naturally, i was just enjoying the crisp november evening…“ ‘a half lie,’ he thinks. he wasn’t enjoying any of it. yes, the cold weather soothed a pit in his stomach and calmed his frying nerves, but he couldn’t escape the mental torment raging inside his mind.

the constant flexing and un-flexing of his hands and toes, gritting of his teeth and sudden bursts of intense, anxious breathing.

he wasn’t enjoying any of it.

like a march lit against a match box in a pitch black room, you had managed to steal his attention away yet again.

you hum in agreement, looking around at the scenery. the black metal street lamps warmed the forever growing leaf piles that decorated the walkway in fall. different reds and browns contrasted with the glowing greens, the light wind rustling and messing with the fallen leaves.

“i had the weirdest dream”

“is that so?”

you sit down next to him, fiddling with that necklace you have on. running your thumb over its grooves and ridges. you had told him once that you got it at some shop for a few bucks. whatever ‘a few bucks’ meant, he assumed it must’ve been quite the penny with how you talk about it. how he’s never seen you without it once. the black yarn holding up the pendant could’ve been fused to your skin as far as he was aware.

“it was about…” you look at him, your eyes narrowing a millimeter in thought as you raked over his slightly more relaxed form. his body language betraying every nerve he thought he had hidden as he struggles to suavely sit back against the bench.

“you actually”

azul’s blue blood ran white as he felt his entire body freeze up.

“w-what?”

you gave him no time to finish as you scotted closer to him, bright eyes peering at him unnaturally.

“you sell yourself short mr-“ you raised your hands in quotation marks “20-step-plan”

a fire was lit in his as the november air turned his suit and jacket into a sauna suit. his cheeks were calming up as his mouth was gaping like a fish thrown on board.

you fix the croaked fedora on his head and lovingly close his mouth.

“i’d love to go on a date with you azul, text me the deets, ‘kay!” like a switched flip you scooted away, bounced on your heels up and continued on your merry way.

no need to tell azul about the day dream of two whispering eels in PE. especially not the one where you saw him trip and fall over his own shoe laces trying to catch up with you.

you decided (and the twins) decided he needed a little lucky star of his own.

fate, if you would.

boo i got lazy at the end

[darlingdaisyfarm]

im so sorry, i don’t even know how to explain myself at this point, consider this my apology for all the filthy nonsense i post here

so, this is a lil bonus to this post

nsfw (not really, but mentions of sex)

Ford is dead. Not literally (you check his pulse just to be sure), but emotionally and physically, this man has perished. Such a beautiful ruined mess underneath you, he’s sprawled out like a crime scene chalk outline, drenched in sweat, staring blankly at the ceiling as if questioning all his life choices.

But you’re not doing much better. Your legs shaking so much you can barely sit up, whole body feels like jelly and your brain isn’t working either. Somehow, you manage to flop next to Ford, throwing a limp arm over his scarred chest.

“Bravo, folks!” Bill exclaims. “what a show! Truly the pinnacle of human endurance and stamina! Sixer, gotta say, i missed seeing you like this, ah, the good old days!”

Ford groans faintly. “I hate you. . .”

“You’re so mean,” you mutter at Bill, glaring up at him with half-lidded eyes. “why’d you even join in? That’s not what we agreed on.”

The moment these words leave your mouth, you know you’ve fucked up. Ford’s body stiffens under your arm as his exhausted brain cells rapidly recalculating everything.

“What— what did you just say?” although his voice is hoarse from all sounds he made earlier, you still catch a note of seriousness in it. His head turns toward you in slow motion, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What do you mean. . . agreed on?”

You panic. “Wait, I mean, uh—”

“Oh, let me tell him!” Bill interrupts. “she’s talking about the little deal we made! you know, where I said, ‘hey, doll, wanna fuck your dusty old man to death?’ and she said, ‘of course, Bill, but no creepy tendrils, okay?’”

Ford looks like he’s been hit by a bus. “WHAT?”

You swear you feel yourself sweat from panic and embarrassment as you look at Bill in pure fear. “I thought you’d just watch! Not—”

Demon cuts you off with a laugh. “Oh, sure, you thought! And by the way, Sixer? these pathetic, desperate little whimpers, ugh, they’ll echo in my mind for eternity! I’ve waited so long to see you like that. A helpless, sloppy mess, both of you, my little huma—”

Ford's face flushes with either shame or anger, and you think he’s going to explode. But no. He pushes himself up, pushes himself up, the madman, and throws the sheet off in anger.

But Bill keeps. “I mean, you came so hard I’m surprised you didn’t pass out after the first round, old ma—”

Ford looks at that demonic creature. “That’s it. That’s it, Cipher, you’ve gone too far this time.”

You barely manage a “Ford, wait—” as he pulls on his boxers with surprising speed for a man who five seconds ago looked like he was on the brink of death.

“I’ll make you pay for this,” Ford declares dramatically. “Mark my words, Cipher, I’ll find a way to make you regret ever stepping into my house again.”

Both you and Bill fall silent, watching Ford’s boxers riding low on his hips as he marches out of the bedroom.

You watch your Ford walk away, eyes wide with panic, realising what just happened, but then your gaze goes lower. At that tattoo.

Flirty Gal.

Bill floats beside you, narrowing his single eye slyly. “I know what you’re looking at, doll.”

You glare at him, exhausted and annoyed. “I hate you.”

Cipher’s gaze flicks to the doorway Ford just walked through. “hate me all you want, but you've got good taste. Sixer's got a hell of an ass for an old man.”

“STOP TALKING.”

[rose24207]

More dark Mafia lando!!!! Please, or even just Mafia lando 🙏🙏😪😪

Shadows

Summary: Lando’s ruthless mafia life is shaken when his vulnerability, Y/N, becomes a target, forcing him to protect her at all costs.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, dark, fluff at the end

TW: Mafia, guns, threats

A/N: Thank you for the request! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The rain lashed against the tall, arched windows of Lando Norris’s sprawling estate, each drop echoing in the oppressive silence of the grand hall. You stood at the edge of the room, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The faint hum of voices filtered in from a distant room, but you were too consumed by the weight of tonight’s events to notice.

Your life had taken an unrecognizable turn since you’d met Lando. What started as a charming stranger walking into your café had spiraled into a dangerous reality you were still learning to navigate. Lando wasn’t just the man who made your heart race—he was the heir to one of the most powerful mafia empires in Europe. And now, because of him, you had a target on your back.

You met Lando eight months ago during a quiet Friday evening at your café. He’d strolled in with an effortless confidence that turned heads, his dark curls slightly damp from the drizzle outside.

“Just a coffee, please,” he’d said, offering a smile that had disarmed you instantly.

Over time, his visits became routine. He was kind but reserved, always asking about your day, occasionally teasing you about your taste in music. You hadn’t thought much of it—until the day he invited you out for dinner.

What followed were months of quiet dates, stolen moments, and the growing realization that Lando was far more complicated than he let on. He was protective, secretive, and occasionally disappeared for days without explanation. When you finally confronted him, he didn’t lie.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he’d said, his voice heavy with regret.

That night, he told you everything. And instead of running, you stayed.

Tonight was different.

It started with a package left on the steps of your apartment. A black box, tied with a crimson ribbon. Inside was a single bullet and a note:

Stay away from him, or this has your name on it.

You hadn’t called Lando right away. You’d paced your apartment for hours, trying to convince yourself it was a prank. But when you finally showed him the note, the change in his demeanor was immediate.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t panic. He simply pulled out his phone, made a single call, and within minutes, his men were escorting you to his estate.

“Stay here,” Lando’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He was standing in the doorway of his office, his expression unreadable.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“They’re trying to get to me through you,” he said simply, stepping into the room. His presence filled the space, making the grand office feel smaller. “And I won’t allow it.”

Your stomach twisted. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, his tone dark, “that they’ve made a mistake.”

You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. “Lando, don’t—”

He covered your hand with his, his touch surprisingly gentle. “You don’t need to worry about this. Let me handle it.”

“I’m not worried about me,” you said, your voice breaking slightly. “I’m worried about you.”

His gaze softened for a brief moment before hardening again. “They won’t touch you. I’ll make sure of it.”

Hours later, you sat in the study, your mind racing. Lando’s men were stationed throughout the estate, their presence a constant reminder of the danger you were in.

The distant sound of shouting pulled you from your thoughts. You froze, your breath catching as the noise grew louder. Then came the unmistakable crack of gunfire.

Panic surged through you. You wanted to move, to run, but Lando’s words echoed in your mind: Stay here. Don’t open the door for anyone but me.

The door burst open moments later, and your heart leapt into your throat. But it wasn’t a stranger—it was Lando.

He stepped inside, his chest rising and falling rapidly, a streak of blood on his cheek. His shirt was untucked, the top buttons undone, revealing the faint hint of a tattoo peeking out from his collarbone.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms. “It’s over,” he said softly, his hand resting on the back of your head.

“What happened?” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

“They won’t come near you again,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

You pulled back slightly, searching his face. “Lando, did you—”

“They had a choice,” he interrupted, his expression unreadable. “They made the wrong one.”

You wanted to press further, but the weight of the night caught up with you. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his steady heartbeat calm you.

Later that night, as you sat together in the quiet of his bedroom, you finally spoke.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando turned to you, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me keep you safe.”

“But at what cost?” you asked, your voice breaking. “How many more people have to get hurt because of me?”

His jaw tightened. “None. Because I’ll end this before it gets that far.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “I didn’t ask for this, Lando. I didn’t ask to be a part of your world.”

“I know,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt. “But you are. And I can’t change that. I can’t change how much I—”

He stopped himself, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“How much you what?” you pressed, your heart pounding.

He looked up, his eyes locking onto yours. “How much I need you,” he said finally. “You’re my weakness, Y/N. And that terrifies me more than anything.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening at the raw vulnerability in his voice. Despite everything—the danger, the chaos, the bloodshed—you couldn’t deny what you felt for him.

“I don’t want to be your weakness,” you said softly.

“You’re not,” he replied, reaching for your hand. “You’re my strength. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. No matter what.”

In that moment, you realized there was no turning back. Lando’s world was dark and dangerous, but as long as you were with him, you knew you’d face it together.

Thank you for reading!

[snurtsnurtcreations]

Been thinking thoughts about a good ol' soulmate au with kyle garrick... hmmmmm

Step counter au where you’ve got a counter that shows how many steps away your soulmate is. And the few times that yours had gotten low were always during some sort of disaster when your safety was a much higher priority than finding your soulmate. You’ve gotta be the unluckiest person ever to have been in the near vicinity of multiple public threats- shootings, bombers, terrorists… or maybe you’re the luckiest person since you always get out of it with minimal damage. Either way, you’ve noted how each time your counter has gone significantly down, so you figure your soulmate must be an emergency responder then or something of the sort. You’ve never really had the chance to figure out who it could be, considering each time the counter went down you were 1) in a crowded area and 2) fearing for your life and trying to get out of the situation. 

It’s just your luck that somehow your place of work gets attacked by terrorists this time. How do you keep getting into these situations? You wonder briefly. And you’re afraid this time you might not be getting out of it- you’re barely holding on to consciousness pressed up into a corner. Everything hurts and you’re not sure if help will get here in time. With hazy eyes you focus on the counter on your arm, and find a small comfort in the numbers flitting back and forth- and then they start going down significantly. Down to double digits, and closing in faster and faster.

Through blurry vision you bring your eyes up as the door is kicked in and in come a team of soldiers armed to the teeth, clearing the room with big guns and bigger bodies. One of them catches your gaze and you vaguely hear him exchanging words with the others, but your head feels like it’s swimming and you can’t be bothered to try to decipher their words through the thick fog in your mind. You look back to your counter- oh. When did that get into single digits? And it’s still going down… you flit your eyes up as one of the soldiers tries to get your attention, crouching down in front of you, swiftly tending to your wound. (oh god he’s gotta be the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. How can someone so intimidating all dressed out in military garb have such a tender expression and make you feel so safe?)

“Don’t you worry, love, you’ll be right as rain here in a bit, yeah?” 

All you can think is that this man’s got an angelic voice. “‘Re you my guardian angel?” Your words slur a bit but you get your point across as the man lets out a breathy little chuckle- and oh a sound such as that is simply beautiful. You want to make him laugh and smile again and again forever and ever.

“Let’s just say I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one at the moment, eh?”

[heavenlyraindrops]

The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader

ch.1/? | also on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag to find other chapters | warnings: pre- s1 (for now), profanity, mentions of death and addiction

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

The undercity was certainly something.

Especially at night, when shadows extended their smoky tendrils to allow those dabbling in unsavoury business to lurk, gloomy buildings hiding things you’d be safer off not knowing within. People milling about, going about their private, dangerous business.

Water splashed across the street as your foot landed in a puddle, ankle twisting the wrong way as you tore through the filthy streets, enforcers hot on your heels. All this for heckling an officer? You clutched your shawl around you as the wind almost buffered it away.

It was ridiculous.

After bumping into a large man, a mother and her child, and knocking over a crate of sludge-y creatures, shouts trailing after you, you found an alleyway to disappear into. You scrambled up some wooden beams, eventually emerging onto the flat roof of the low, squatting building. You watched the idiotic Pilties run straight ahead, missing your small detour entirely, and scoffed, stepping away from the edge.

You turned, and made your way across the rooftops of Zaun. 

You’d reached an impasse. Well, not really- nothing a simple jump couldn’t fix. You squinted down into the dusty darkness of the narrow alley below your feet. This part of the undercity was silent- but you could hear the lapping water, and knew you were close to the river.

Vaulting over a concrete bar and pushing off with your feet, you landed on the other side of the gap with a thud. The roof shook, and you yelped as a tile slid off the edge, and crashed into the darkness.

Holding your breath, you heard nothing. The water continued to rumble. You turned to leave.

Until- 

“Fuck.”

You froze in horror. 

Creeping back towards the piped edge of the roof, weight on the backs of your feet, you peered into the darkness. The glowing end of a cigarette burned orange. You gulped.

A man emerged, stepping into your view. His brow was furrowed. Your hands were shaking. “I-I’m sorry!” You called out, and he scowled. 

“You nearly hit me!” He almost-yelled back. But taking a look at your face his expression softened. Against better judgement, you slid down the pipe, feet landing on the ground with an oof.

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. Someone in the undercity coming down to personally apologise for something like that instead of laughing in one’s face and running away was rare. He looked at the apologetic look on your face, and watched as you opened your mouth to speak while also stretching out your hand.

“I’m sorry…”

He reached for your hand too, ready to dismissively accept your apology and move on with his night.

“…But can I have a cigarette?”

His expression dropped.

You lazily took the cigarette from his hands and took a long, deep drag, tendrils of smoke curling from your mouth. At his frown, you moved it from your lips to speak.

“What? You don’t have herpes, do you? I’m not going to get it, am I?”

Wordlessly, he shook his head. You studied his face. Strong features, blue-green eyes. He wasn’t half bad looking.

I wouldn’t mind getting an STD from him.

Without a single reaction to your rather graphic thought you took another drag on the cigarette, before handing it back to him. “Thanks. Not everyone here knows that sharing is caring.”

He laughs, guarded, and then stops himself, surprised such a sound even came out at your words. You smiled at him sweetly. “And sorry for almost hitting your head and bashing it in with a tile. Though it wasn’t my fault, was it?”

“I suppose it was an accident,” he said stiffly, a strand of hair falling in front of his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Miss…”

“[name]. Janna, I really needed to calm my nerves.” You stretched, arching your back like a cat, feeling the bones pop and muscles stretch deliciously. The man wet his lips, looking out at the street through the alley.

“And why would that be?” His voice was smooth. You readjusted your shawl. 

“Some enforcers were chasing me. The usual.” You let out a slow sigh, going to leave the alley without as much as a goodbye. He didn’t say anything, just watched you leave.

You planted a foot out into the street.

“That’s her!” 

You whipped your head around, watching a gaggle enforcers charging towards you. A scream tore from your lips you rushed back into the alleyway. The man grabbed you as you almost crashed into his chest.

“Fucking run!”

Shimmying up the pipe, you were back on the roof. You didn’t spare a turn to look back as your heavy lunges rattled the roofs, leaping over bars and gaps. You turned and saw an enforcer slip through a gap in the roofs, crashing into the street below. The man from the alley was just at your shoulder. Without a sparing a second you turned and left.

Once you were certain you’d lost the enforcers you stopped, chest heaving, and slumped onto the ground- roof- beneath you. The man stayed standing, eyeing you with an unreadable expression.

“Okay,” you gasped, turning over. “Now I’m actually sorry.” Coughing while trying to catch your breath you extended a hand. “Do you have water or something? I’m sorry.”

He let out a heavy sigh, not knowing how to behave in this situation as he took out a flask, crouching down and holding it out to you as you continuously mumbled apologies. You gulped down the water inside. “It isn’t poisoned, is it?” You sighed, wiping your mouth as you handed it back. He sat down as he took it, joining you on the slanted roof. 

“You only think to ask that after you’ve downed half the thing?” His voice was filled with amusement. You ignored him.

“I’m sorry, mister…”

“Silco.”

You stared at him as he took out another cigarette, patting his pockets for a lighter. Without a word you took one out, flicking it open and pushing down to activate the flame. You held it in front of his face. “I’m sorry, Silco.”

The cigarette lit up. You studied his profile, mainly the line of his sharp nose as he inhaled deeply.

“It’s fine. Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I got you involved in a chase with enforcers after almost dropping a tile on your head and taking your cigarette.”

“You didn’t have to take the cigarette,” he muttered, miffed. You ignored him, the lighter snapping shut. “And my plans for the night have been ruined…”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. He looked at you, chuckling. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, if you want.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Such generosity is rare.”

“Not generosity. Justice.”

He laughed again, at your dramatics this time as he rolled the cigarette in between his long fingers. “Right. Justice.”

“So, one favour.”

“That’s a dangerous offer, [name].” A thought struck him, and he furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me you’re from topside.”

You stared at him for a minute, then scoffed. “Of course I’m not. What makes you think that?”

“Your naivety.” He blew smoke from his lungs, and you watched as it curled over the rooftops. “It’s not a good idea to go around offering favours to strangers.”

“I’m as much of a trencher as you are, Silco,” you scoffed.

At this, he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You stared at him in shock as his lip curled, expression furious. You blinked, unmoving. 

“Zaunite.”

“Wh-what?”

“Use Zaunite. Not the name they gave us.” His grip on your wrist loosened before falling away completely. You nodded.

“Right.”

It fell silent.

“And I’ll never cash in that favour.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because, it’s a stupid idea. If anything, I’m doing you a favour.” Another drag. You turned over to look at the sky.

“Thanks… I guess?”

He chuckled again, smoke curling from in between his teeth. Your face felt warm. “You’re strange.”

“So I’ve been told. What exactly were the plans for your night that I so rudely ruined?”

He didn’t say anything.

“I hope you weren’t visiting a cathouse.”

He groaned, and you laughed, snatching the cigarette off of him. He didn’t stop you. “Certainly not. Not for the cats, at least.”

“The cats?”

“The women, [name].”

“Well, what else would you go there for?”

“You’d be surprised.”

You frown. “Right… so no prostitutes.”

“Definitely not. It’s an immoral practice.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “A trencher with morals. I see.”

“Zaunite,” he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, sucking on the cigarette. “Well, I don’t care. They’re just making a living.”

“And what would you consider immoral?”

You blew out a cloud of smoke, and for a moment you considered saying something that he’d agree with, racking your brains for an appropriate answer. He clearly hated topside…

“What those Pilties are doing. Their prejudice against us,” you said proudly. He gave a small laugh.

“Right. Everyone thinks that. Something unique, please.”

You stayed silent. “Well… I do believe capitalising on addiction is quite immoral.”

“Ironic, considering that cigarette you’re holding.”

“There are extremes.” Your voice was low, and it was clear there was a story behind the subject. He didn’t press you, simply watching you put out the cigarette on the tin roof, your appetite for nicotine crushed.

After a quiet moment you spoke. “My sister was pregnant. Some… drug lord got her hooked onto something.” You rested your head down. “It was dangerous. They don’t make it anymore.” He hummed silently. “I lost both her and the baby. And she was all I had left, so…”

“The father?”

You scoffed, and that told him more than he needed to know.

“That… drug… business owner… whatever he was- he didn’t need money. He was filthy rich,” you spat. “A-“ your eyes slid to Silco- “A Zaunite, hoarding money, sucking life out of his own people, and not sharing a single drop. I hate that bastard.”

“What became of him?”

“Business crushed, killed by enforcers.” Your response was curt.

He hummed. “Well, in that case, I certainly won’t go down that path.”

“…I suppose I won’t work in a brothel either.”

“Or own one,” he added. You laughed.

“Or own one.”

You sighed gently, standing up. “Well, I hope whatever business you missed gets resolved. Goodbye, Silco.” You made to climb down to the street.

“Wait-“

You looked up.

“You said you don’t have anyone. If you’re ever… looking for company, go to the Last Drop. Tell the bartender you’re looking for Silco.”

Your eyes enlarged as you stowed the name in your memory. “The Last Drop,” you repeated, then nodded.

“Goodbye, [name].” 

You smiled again, and dropped down into the crowd.

When you looked back up to the sky, to the roof, he was gone.

-

[spicywriter]

HIDE AND SEEK : JOHN PRICE

cw: stalking. knife play. fingering. shit gets wild.

an: posted for the first time. enjoy, nasty fucks. more writing coming soon;)

I can’t let him get the satisfaction of seeing me tremble within my skin. I can’t let him win every single time he decides to scare me by roaming outside my house, trying to instill a sense of dread inside me. I can’t even talk to anyone without making sure they don’t lose their lives— especially guys.

I know that if a guy even wishes to talk to me, he’s probably going to sew their vocals chords shut. No, he’s definitely going to. No amount of security can confine this man. Nothing. Everything I’ve tried has failed. He always finds some way to maneuver around the system. But that’s okay, because this time I’ll show him that I’m not scared of him. Even if I am, like every night, he’ll stop by— he’ll roam around my house like always, sometimes would send me a text message, and then he’ll leave.

But this time I’ll find the perfect moment, just a small crack in his plan and I’ll flee away from here. He’ll be here soon. Just the thought of him makes my hair stand. I focused on my breathing, listening intently to outside noises. My head whips towards the noise of a branch cracking outside. He’s here.

I grab a knife just in case things don’t go accordingly— and tiptoe towards a window in my living room. I peeked through the tiny opening while looking at his hooded figure, my breath hitches. He halts in his steps, taking out his phone, seeing his fingers rapidly pressing on the screen.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket before slowly taking it out…

Unknown number: I must be looking good today, seeing how hard you’re staring at me.

Furrowing my brows, I look away from the screen and back at him just to see him looking right directly at me. Shit.

He begins walking west from my front door, starting to roam around my house like usual. I wait for a minute, knowing that he’ll be on the opposite side from my front door, and then I rush towards the door. But I immediately freeze hearing keys jingle. Wait a damn minute, why is he here? He’s supposed to be on the other side.

I hear him inserting the key in the lock. My legs develop a mind of their own as I dashed to the nearest wall and hid behind it. The door cracks open, revealing a tall hooded figure as he starts to walk around. Few minutes later, I hear his footsteps going upstairs. Now’s my chance.

I charge for the door when suddenly I stopped dead in my track. “Going somewhere, my love?” I gulped and slowly turned around and there he was, walking downstairs. I feel the liquid adrenaline pumping through my body. I just froze, I couldn’t even move an inch. His deep British accent voice rings inside my skull

“You’re too scared to run, aren’t you?” I whimper involuntarily. He’s right. My knees begin to tremble while he grin widens, knowing he got under my skin. I come back to my senses before holding my knife up— my hands slightly shaking violently.

“Stay the fuck away from me.” I muttered out, my voice slightly cracking.

“Do you like games, love?” He questions challengingly, his words drenched in cockiness. I shake my head slowly. He slightly smirks before continuing.

“How about a game called Hide and Seek? If you can hide for ten minutes without being caught, then I’ll leave, forever.” He raises his eyebrows, studying my face. For someone who has been infatuated with me for almost three months, disappearing altogether in ten minutes doesn’t sound promising. Either way, I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes— and if ten minutes is all it takes, then so be it.

“Start counting.” He commands, before he exits out of the front door and circling my house— making sure I don’t try to officially run away in the process. There are absolutely no hiding spots in my fucking house. I managed to find a compact space in my closet, just enough for my body to squeeze in.

A few minutes later, I hear the front door close— and his heavy boots clanking on the floor. I count the minutes in my head. Approximately seven minutes later, I realize that I don’t hear him.

I quietly crawl out, making sure I don’t creak my floor which ends up taking some time to reach. He’s nowhere. I have about fourteen seconds, and it’s over. I swiftly moved— being cautions of my surroundings as I make my way to the front door. Counting down the seconds in my head, I reached for the doorknob, twisting it and flipping the door opened on the last few seconds.

Before I could dashed out, someone grabs me by my waist and pushed me on the hard cold floor— my back colliding harshly with it. “Gotcha. Did you think you can really outsmart me? You have no fucking idea who I am. You can’t get past me even if you wanted to. I hope what I’m going to do next answers your previous questions, yeah?” He hisses before hovering above me— his hands are on my throat, slightly knocking the air out of my lungs.

I struggled, attempting to shove him away but my efforts are futile. Suddenly, he leans down close to me and presses his lips onto mines— this shouldn’t feel good— I shouldn’t like this. The way his lips mould with mine, leaving no space between us. How is tongue explores my mouth greedily, licking into me. How he touches me everywhere. I don’t have a damn choice— I managed to roughly push him off of me, gasping for air. My chest was slightly burning while my heart was racing rapidly.

One of his hands is around my throat while the other grabs the knife is my hand that I had long forgotten about. “What should I do with you, hm?” I struggle against him, but his strong hold is tight. He waves the knife around my cheek, my shaking body risking getting sliced. “or maybe I should cut that pretty tongue of yours.” He slightly scoffs, the tip of the knife slightly pushing onto my bottom lip, making a tiny cut as blood tickles down my chin.

“Open your mouth.” He orders, and I comply, feeling his grip on my throat slowly loosen. I opened my mouth which was slightly twitching and trembling in fear before he slowly inserts the knife, the flat blunt surface of the cold metal on my tongue— being careful not to cut the inside of my mouth. “Or maybe I should…” his sentence trails off as his eyes set on my throbbing cunt. He slowly leads the tip of the knife between my legs, only a centimeter away from my core. “Take it off.” He demands, gently gazing against my clit through my shorts.

“Come on sweetheart, take ‘em off.” His tone sounds so reassuring but his actions are the complete opposite. My fingers move and hook around the hem of my shorts, pulling them off roughly. I can feel the pool of my arousal painting my thighs and soaking my panties.

His orbs instantly latch down there. “Does this excite you? How fucking adorable.” His smokey laugh pinches my ears, and I feel the humiliation swell my skin. The knife slips under the hem and cuts off the string on both sides.

I gasped— completely bottomless, and aching. He turns his knife around so he grips the sharp metal, the tight grip making his palm start to bleed. The handle stops at my opening— then I feel it slowly pushing inside, causing me to moan slightly. “Come on baby, let it out.” He commanding voice booms out while he thrusts deeper— his thumb circling on my clit roughly

The pleasure builds more and more until it explodes inside of me, flooding my system with immense pleasure. My eyes flutter shut and my mouth hangs open as my entire body tenses— it’s almost unbearable. He moves my hair aside, pressing his warm lips on my neck and placing featherlight kisses there.

“Good girl.” He praises, before embracing me in his strong arms. “No matter where you go or what you do, you’ll always be my prey— and I’ll always hunt you down.”

— © SPICYWRITER 2024.

[steakout-05]

hey barry there's a bus coming you might wanna watch out

watch out barry

barry

BARRY

BARRY WATCH OUT

BARRY

THE BUS

ITS GETTING CLOSER JUST MOVE OUT OF THE WAY

DEAR GOD HE HAS HIS HEADPHONES ON HE CAN'T HEAR US!!

BARRY NOOOOOOOOO

[canisalbus]

i like think about machete's death as a culmination of his paranoia and eventual cruelty and vasco as the single ray of light loving him up through the end. even through as terrible as he becomes, the thought of vasco's heart being with him even as he chokes on his own blood as the one thing that he could hold on to. what is it to love something you know is vile, and to mourn their loss regardless. i could drink the tragedy like wine

.

[nowshesdoingitallthetime]

[chuluoyi]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

- sylus x reader

more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)

note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')

“Missus, please spare us!”

You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.

“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”

“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”

“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”

You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.

“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”

“—?! Missus, please!”

“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.

Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.

Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”

And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."

Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."

Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?

“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”

Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”

Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.

“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”

“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”

Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.

And so, you went up to him. However...

“...Are you single, miss?”

Here we go again.

You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”

The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”

This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.

This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.

“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”

Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”

The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”

This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.

“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”

“No, no! I mean it!”

He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.

The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—

He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”

“Oh...”

And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?

Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.

That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.

For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.

Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—

You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.

A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.

“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”

He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.

—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.

. . .

“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”

“I do.”

“Then, will you play with me?”

Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.

You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.

"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.

That was the last straw. Enough is enough.

Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.

“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—

“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.

After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.

"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"

"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.

"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."

His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.

"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.

Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.

Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—

“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”

“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.

“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.

But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.

There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.

“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.

But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.

You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?

“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”

“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.

“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”

You shook your head.

You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.

You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.

For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.

“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.

So needy and pliant… for him.

“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”

Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.

But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”

He shot you an irked glance. “No.”

“He calls me by your bird’s name.”

“...”

“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”

“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”

Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.

Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.

“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—

Neck. You realized in horror.

“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”

“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.

"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"

You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"

"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"

Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.

"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.

“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.

"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"

Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"

It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—

“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”

It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!

His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"

He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.

You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—

“Stop thrashing!”

“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.

“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”

“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”

You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”

But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.

“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.

“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”

Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.

When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.

It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.

Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.

Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?

You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.

“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”

“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.

Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.

“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”

“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”

Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”

“Just who do you think I am?”

“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”

Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”

“Sylus!”

If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...

“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.

This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”

Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”

You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.

“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.

“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”

“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.

Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”

“Wait!”

You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”

Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.

“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”

This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.

He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.

“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”

His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.

After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.

Epilogue

"Do you hear anything?"

"No, nothing..."

Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.

“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”

The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.

"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."

"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."

“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”

Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.

“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”

“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”

As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.

[fairy-angel222]

Being older bf! Toji’s sweet dolly gf.

Everybody wonders just how it even happened. He was so big and broody, face always serious as he peered down at people with hard glares. But you.. you were so sweet. Everyone loved you, thought you were the most darling girl in town.

You were always so kind to people, smiling brightly as you engaged in conversation with almost anyone, easily lighting up their day with your gentle tone.

You’re a joy to be around, your presence was soft, warm.. welcoming. His was mean, scary even. It was a strange mixture. Not to mention how much bigger he is compared to you. His tall height and broad body engulfing yours completely when his arm wraps around your waist.

Your hand tight in his as you two walked down the street. Intertwined fingers swinging as you attempted to tug him into the direction when something caught your eye. Batting your lashes up at him with an innocent tilt of your head. “Daddy.. can you buy me this? Pretty please?”

He thinks he spoils you too much, only chuckling deeply before letting you drag him into the store with a squeal. The singular item turning into bags full by the time you were ready to leave. You could hear the whispers circulating around you about you and your big boyfriend, huffing with the roll of your eyes when a girl questioned your ability to please him. To take all of him, insisting to her friend that she’d do a better job.

Of course you could take him, you did every single night. When your legs are bent onto his arms. The man’s large muscles flexing as he slid your little body up and down his cock. Using you like his own personal flesh light to stroke himself with your snug walls.

You mewl loudly, head falling back onto his shoulder as your pussy gushed messily. Toji’s large hand pressing both your legs to your chest with a smirk. Watching as your eyes filled with tears at how much deeper he could reach when he began slamming up into you roughly. Throbbing tip kissing your g spot meanly before bullying its way deep inside you- being able to feel his massive girth poking desperately at your cervix for entrance.

You let out a string of high pitched moans, body shaking as Toji fucked your tight pussy on and off his cock. Your snug grip ready to milk him dry as he groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect like this baby. Shit, pretty pussy doesn’t even wanna let me go.”

“Mmfg— d-daddy. So g-good, ‘m so close.”

“Yeah? Close f’ me already? You’re taking me so well baby. Taking daddy’s cock so far up that sopping pussy like a good girl.”

You smile with a choked cry, toes curling through your socks as you neared your orgasm. You wished that girl could see you prove her wrong, show her how well you took your boyfriend’s fat cock. Something she could never ever have.