#this was when we were POOR poor. but we always ended up poor in general

[psychoticwillgraham]

they’re busy rn so I’ll have to wait for the letter, but it’s official!!! im gonna start looking at the local shelters!!!!

[randomshyperson]

My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.

Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k

A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing. 

But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.

But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.

While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.

Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”

You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.

“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”

Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”

You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”

She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”

“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.

The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.

Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.

Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.

You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.

“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”

Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.

“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.

“No, I mean… you think that too right?”

You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”

She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:

“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”

You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.

-&-

Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.

It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.

You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.

Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw. 

And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.

Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.

“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not. 

You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”

The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.

You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”

Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.

“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.

“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”

You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”

You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”

She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”

You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.

-&-

Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.

The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.

“What?” 

“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.

“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was. 

“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”

“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.

Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you. 

Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close. 

Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.

The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.

Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.

“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second. 

Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.

“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides. 

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.

“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”

You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs. 

Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.

When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”

She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.

It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.

Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.

You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.

"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."

She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.

"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."

Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.

But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.

An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.

Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.

She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.

"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.

It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.

You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.

The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.

She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.

In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.

Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.

"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.

For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.

You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.

"Hey, little witch."

She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."

Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."

She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.

[scarletriddles]

Lost in the fire ˚༄ | S.R

↳ in which the team’s newest case puts your life in jeopardy, at your own accord.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

genre: angst, sprinkle of fluff

warnings: general cm gore/case discussion, fire/arson, injuries related to fire, swearing, references to religion + greek mythology, friends to…? (they’re in la-la-la-love, your honour), some possible inaccuracies (sorry!), small jemily mention because lesbian rights, hopeful ending, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, second person narrative.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: my first ever fic i’m very nervy🫣i’m not expecting this to gain any sort of traction, but lmk how you find it, i suppose!

“Haley Bradstone, aged twenty-five, and Laura Kilmey, aged twenty-seven, are the most recent victims in a series of murders in Detroit, Michigan. Both victims were discovered four days apart, and only five miles away from each other, their bodies disposed of in black FIBC bulk bags that were left in trash-sites.” JJ pauses, her gaze flickering between the team, almost hesitant as her thumb circles the silver remote. But, with a clearing of her throat, she continues. “Cause of death for both victims has been ruled asphyxiation…by smoke inhalation.”

You abruptly halt toying with the frayed edges of the case file, your eyebrows shooting up and head lifting to look at her, and then also at the rest of the team - who look just as bewildered.

“Sorry, did you just say smoke inhalation?” You ask, genuine confusion weighing down your tone.

JJ nods, her expression dismayed as she eyes the two beaming faces displayed on the board. “Yes, as laid out in the case files, high levels of carbon monoxide, hydrogen cyanide and hydrogen sulphide were found in both victim’s lungs. The coroner also noted soot around the victim’s faces, and TBSA burns, all of which are synonymous with death via smoke inhalation.”

“Carbon monoxide poisoning is actually the leading cause of death in smoke inhalation - causing approximately 2,100 deaths in the U.S each year.” Spencer adds, followed by his familiar flat smile, which he usually does when he doesn’t know what to do with his face - which happens to be always.

You blink, with a slight quirk to your lips, despite the circumstances. Trust your good doctor to know just about everything.

“Were there reports of any fires around the general area?” Hotch pipes up, his face set in his usual stony expression, though his eyes betray his pensiveness.

JJ shakes her head, adjusting her stance. “No, which is what makes this stranger. The DPD reported no calls about any sort of fire on the days our victims were killed.”

“What? So our unsub just…lit a bunch of fires in plain sight?” Derek questions, with a flick of his brow, his gaze alternating between the board and the manilla folder in his grasp.

You huff, turning to face him with a slight smile, musing. “Must be one hell of a magician.”

Derek smirks in general bemusement, his dark eyes swirled with mirth, his tone light as a feather as he shifts in his scratchy office chair. “Looks like it, lil mama.”

Ever the smooth talker.

“Or, he could be using a secondary location.” Emily chimes in, her narrow-eyed gaze set firm on the file in front of her, her slender fingers fiddling with a bullet-point pen, and her lips contorted into a reflective pout.

“That’s plausible, but you’d think at least someone would notice.” Rossi adds, with a slight huff of incredulity, his calculating gaze sweeping across the entire room before him.

The two smiling faces are quickly joined by two more, both just as radiant, both just as nausea-inducing. Those poor girls.

“We don’t know for sure. But, the most recent victims join twenty-eight year old Sarah Holloway, and twenty-two year old Jessica Bailey. Who, similarly, were found four days apart, five miles away from each other and dumped in black FIBC bags, also ruled dead via asphyxiation. However, Sarah and Jessica’s dumpsites were around 14 miles away from Haley and Laura’s.” JJ purses her lips faintly, eyes still fixated on the crime scene photographs of four similar looking women who didn’t even live properly yet, robbed of the chance to, just like Poseidon robbed Medusa of her autonomy, on the marble steps of her deity’s temple. The thought alone just worsens the crease between her brows.

“four victims…why are they only just asking for our help, now?” Spencer ponders, features frozen in contemplativeness. His fingers sweep up to push his black-rimmed frames back to their previous position on the bridge of his nose.

God, you love his glasses.

JJ’s face morphs into a faint grimace, as she replies in a reluctant tone. “Unfortunately, the media managed to connect the dots on this one, they’re dubbing our unsub ‘the smoke-killer.’ But, the DPD really needs our help with this.”

You sigh, eyes trained on the gruesome imagery displayed on the silver screen. No matter how long you’ve been with the BAU, the violence never quite gets bearable for you, though you can’t bring yourself to look away - like witnessing a car-crash. You understand the psychology behind it, shock rooting the human body in place as the brain tries to comprehend that what it’s processing is real.

But, guilt still flows around in your system like the Noachian flood. Maybe, if you thought about it hard enough, you’d feel the ark bashing against your innards as it tries to navigate the brutal waves.

You suppose the violence doesn’t get easier for the team, either. Perhaps that’s what keeps you all tethered to each other, bonded. After all, the Greeks did beat the Trojans in unity - and disguised as a large, ligneous horse, but you digress.

Hotch nods, solemnly. “Alright, we can discuss further on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” And with that, he abruptly stands up, striding out of the room with a sureness in his step that only he could possess, effectively putting an end to the briefing.

The screen then goes dark, the car-crash finally being attended to. The sounds of chairs scraping across the frizzled navy carpeted floor and paper rustling bounces around the small space, as everyone heads out and into the bullpen, all but the exception of spencer, who remains seated, brooding over his manilla file as though he’s a modern day Thomas Aquinas. always thinking. You muse to yourself, though your eyebrow still raises in question nonetheless.

“Reid, you coming?” You probe gently, standing in the doorway with a faint grin. Your eyes flickering like fairy-lights all around his hunched-over frame.

Spencer startles slightly, craning his head up from the file and over to you - a rosy hue creeping up the nape of his neck from the sight of you alone. He swallows, standing up suddenly, and pushing his chair out with his hip, as he breathes out. “Uh, yea-yeah i’m…i’m coming.” He collects his things quickly, scrunching up his case file as he slings his satchel over his shoulder. Though, it doesn’t really matter, he’s already memorised it from start to finish. Eidetic memory and all.

He flashes you his signature flat smile once again, as his muddy hues rake over your appearance. You look pretty today, well he thinks you always look pretty, but today especially. Your hair swishes around your face in wisps like cotton-candy, your frame adorned in your usual grey fitted slacks, paired with a pink striped puff sleeved button down and black leather boots.

He believes you’re the personification of an angel, and with the way the abnormally-harsh office lighting is dancing around your hair in a nimbus-like manner, he’s probably right.

“C’mon then doctor genius, we have an hour long flight to catch.” Your voice rolling out with a teasing lilt, a subtle smile curled around the edges of your glossed lips.

Spencer usually loathes being referred to as a genius, namely because it’s said with such obvious sneer and condescension, like he’s an abnormal form, like he’s still that twelve-year-old high schooler. But, you never say it with thinly-veiled disgust, no, you say it with such reverence- like it’s something to be admired.

Yeah, angel.

He mirrors your smile, eyes soft and starry eyed as he follows you out of the room. “one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 seconds.” He corrects softly, always keen for specifics, his satchel smashing against his upper-thigh periodically as he walks beside you.

You huff in amusement, rolling your eyes in jest. “Right. My bad, one-hour, 19 minutes and 45 second long flight.” Your head tilts up slightly to look up at him, your irises dipped in unsubtle gaiety,

Spencer lets out a huffy laugh of his own, shaking his head in amusement. He loved when you teased him, though he’d never admit that. At least, not to you anyway.

“Oh, forgive me for being specific.” He sounds out, airily, like a dish-soap bubble crafted by small exploring hands, as he places his own ridiculously large palm on his chest in mock-offence.

“more like particular.” You reply, just as you reach your desk, in faux-annoyance, the curl of your lips betraying that fact.

Spencer puffs out another slight laugh in response, as he leans against the edge of your desk, watching you comb through it. His gaze doesn’t settle, darting around the array of trinkets and just general stuff aligning the glossy oak, including the multiple pots of bright pens - some looking vaguely like the ones he’s seen scattered around Penelope’s ‘bat-cave’ - and even a stick-figure drawing of him scribbled onto a canary yellow sticky-note, featuring overly large glasses and converse, which are more akin to clown shoes, alongside an equally as dramatised stick-figure version of Morgan, complete with a badly scrawled out six pack and huge biceps.

He feels a warmth blossom in his chest as looks over the cluttered space. It’s just so irrevocably you.

“particular or not, i still believe everything-“ He begins.

“-everything should be accurate, wherever possible” You mock affectionately, with a barely hidden smirk, still rooting through your things like a squirrel digging for an acorn.

A slight pout forms on his face, bordering on more petulant than anything. “How’d you even know I was going to say that?”

A faint effervescent giggle slips past your lips, your head still firmly pulled down, as your hands continue their wandering through your desk drawers. “ ‘Cause you’ve said that line at least a dozen times now, doc.” You drawl out, still grinning to yourself.

He wants that sound to be his morning alarm.

He rolls his eyes, only half-seriously, a smile lighting the corners of his mouth up like a vegas ‘welcome’ sign. “I have not said that a dozen times!” He huffs out, with a shake of his head at the injustice of it all, his dark curls springing with the movement.

You just smile, continuing to rifle through your desk before you locate what you were looking for, quickly straightening up and collecting the rest of your things before turning to him.

“Well, I’m all set doctor, lead the way.”

“Is that just so you don’t get lost again?” he replies, with an overt teasing twinkle.

You groan, blowing out like a whistle “that was one time! i was still new, and the hallways are confusing!”

He just bellows out a laugh, pushing up off the edge of your desk and beginning to walk - more like stride - his way to the elevators. You in tow, but just barely. His legs are way too long.

“I can put a sign on my back that says, ‘follow me’, if needs be.” He throws behind his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up!” You bark out, not really with any bite. Never with him.

It had been about three days since you landed in Detroit, Michigan. Most of that time being spent cramped up in the tiny makeshift office curated for the team, downing copious amounts of coffee, reading files until the backs of your eyes burned and dodging the borderline leering looks from the mid 40-year-old, beer gut endowed cops.

In other words, it was hell.

The team had made some progress, though. Narrowing down the profile to a white male in his early to mid thirties, who works a menial job, of average height and build, and who clearly dislikes women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow down the ‘Where’s Waldo’ search by much. But still, you really just couldn’t shake the obvious question…

Why go through all the trouble of burning these women, but not completely, just to dump their bodies?

And it seemed that question floated around the backs of everyone else’s mind, too. It was bizarre, to say the least.

Currently, the team is all stuffed in said aforementioned makeshift office space, like sardines in a can, no less. Emily and JJ sat at the table together, as usual, Derek propped up against the wall, Hotch and Rossi stood brooding in the corner of the room, quietly discussing something between themselves, leaving you and Spencer situated in front of the board, where the geographical profile is mapped out.

“He’s operating within a 20 mile radius, dumping the bodies within an area he’s comfortable in. He’s either going to strike here.” Spencer points to a spot on the map with his finger, tapping against it slightly before dragging it across and towards another spot, “or here.” His features were swamped in pondering thought, his honeyed gaze encompassing the sight in front of him.

“Yeah, but i still don’t understand why he’d go through all the trouble of burning them till they die from smoke inhalation, and then discarding the bodies. jus’ seems a lil’ pointless t’ me” Morgan drawls out, his stance wide and his arms folded, one of his hands resting on his chin.

“well ain’t that the million dollar question.” You reply, with a sigh lathered in perplexity, your arms folded in a similar manner, but with one of your hands rubbing up the side of your arm, in a absentminded fashion.

“Morgan’s right, it doesn’t make any sense.” Hotch pauses slightly, contemplating - like everybody else in the room. His dark eyebrows stitched together, and his lips set in a taut frown.

“None of it makes sense, i mean, even the dumping method, why bulk bags and not just plain ol’ trash bags?” Emily questions, sitting back in her seat with an exhale, her legs crossed with her boot-clad foot tapping against one of the legs of the rickety table.

You blink, a thought coming to you at her question. “Theres a Hardware store in the middle of town, right?” You throw out, hands stuffed into the pockets of your black slacks.

Hotch’s brows furrow, as he regards you. “Yes, why?” He says simply, almost curiously.

You shrug, “so then he’d probably be getting the bulk bags from there, since it’s easily accessible.”

Everyone goes silent at your question, seemingly mulling it over, before Morgan responds.

“If so, why wouldn’t he just buy trash bags?” He says, with a cock of his brow.

“Because he wants the victims to be found.” Spencer states, plainly, piling onto your train of thought and rocking back and forth on his heels, as his tongue darts out, swiping his slightly dry bottom lip.

“Think about it, a bulk bag is much more conspicuous than a simple trash bag, he wants his handiwork to be seen - maybe not right away, but he knows at least one person would find the presence of a large plastic bag near a dumpster to be…alarming, whereas no one would bat an eye at seeing a trash bag. Same goes for his M.O, he most likely has some sort of access to an incinerator, perhaps due to his job, which allows him to discreetly ‘burn’ his victims, before dumping them in a way which derives notice.”

His hands flail around wildly as he talks, an endearing habit that makes it seem like he’s so excited to talk about what he’s discussing that, at the minimum, one part of his body has to move with the speed of his mouth.

You smile - more of a secret thing, really, just for yourself - you love listening to that man talk. It’s the eighth wonder of the world, to you.

Everyone nods, the notion seemingly settling into their psyche without much problem, as logically, it did make sense.

“If thats the case, then we have a problem.” Rossi scratches the side of his jaw lightly, his head tilted and his bronze hues directed at the table.

Emily raises her brow, in clear need of clarification. “What problem?” She murmurs out, her head cocked to the side, questioningly.

“We have an unsub who wants attention, and will stop at nothing to get it.” Hotch adds on, sharing a brief glance with Rossi, his expression more grave than usual, before he fishes out his phone, dialling a number and setting the onyx Nokia down onto the table. “Garcia, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, my favourite crime-fighters! To what do i owe the pleasure?” The shrill cheery voice of Penelope Garcia rings out, immediately bringing a small smile to your face. She really was like bathing in sunshine.

“We were wondering if you could take a look at a hardware store’s sales within the last month, more specifically of FIBEC bulk bags.” Hotch drags out, his arms still folded and his face betraying nothing but his usual stoicism.

“Oh, that i can do upside down with my hands tied, sir! just…one…second.” Penelope’s voice hauls out, followed by the rapid clinking of keyboard keys. “What’s the name of the store?” She asks, her tone focused.

“Sally’s Shack” Hotch replies, his tone equally levelled.

After a few moments, and a lot more keyboard clicking, Penelope finally pipes up again. “Ah-hah! so, it appears that our shack in question has sold six FIBEC bulk bags within the last month, all to the same buyer - well, at least the same credit card was used, ending in 4678.”

Hotch looks visibly taken aback slightly, before he asks “Can you get a name, Garcia?”

“Already on it, sir.” Penelope replies, with her usual peachy tone.

A tense silence follows, only sporadically broken by the clickity-clack of Penelope’s rainbow pastel keyboard. Then, she pipes up again.

“Okay…looks like the card belongs to a 33-year-old, Mr. Eugene Humphrey, who currently works at…” Her words trail off, obvious hesitance behind them ��…burns funeral home and crematory, and owns a residence just in the middle of town.”

Everybody seems to pause, then. He matches the profile - Mid thirties, works a menial job which would give him access to a ‘discreet’ burning method and just so happened to purchase the same material used by the unsub, whilst also owning his own property not too far away from the hardware store in which the material was purchased…yeah that can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Pen, does he have a criminal record of any kind?” Your voice floats out, drifting through the confined space like Thumbelina on her shamrock lily-pad.

“I will have a looksie for you now, my sweet sugar muffin, just hang on one second-“ Penelope cuts herself off as her fingers begin their ministrations again, the keyboard rumbling with every tap, a smile edging on your face at the absurd term of endearment.

“Alright…looks like our guy spent six months in juvenile detention when he was sixteen for lighting his girlfriend’s car on fire, claimed he caught her cheating on him with his best friend, youch!”

You can practically see the cogs turning in your teammates heads, looks like you got your guy.

“Okay, thats good garcia, could you-“

“-send his information over? already done, sir.” promptly interrupting the low voice of your unit chief, in a way that is so Penelope, that he can’t really object.

“Thank you Garcia, We appreciate it” Hotch replies in his typical authoritative tone.

“You’re welcome, my gorgeous gods and goddesses, now go and save lives.” Penelope chirps out, swinging on her swanky desk chair, her hands now preoccupied with a bright pink fluffy pen.

“You’re the best, babygirl.” Morgan calls out, his tone suave and a smirk illuminating his features.

Penelope lets out a giggle, replying in her token-teasing articulation. “Only for you, my chocolate thunder, now ta-ta!” Her sing-songy voice sounds out with finality, before the line drops, indicating that she ended the call.

“Alright, everyone, looks like we’re scoping a funeral home. I’ll go inform the captain, and i need all of you to gear up, as a cautionary, is that clear?” Hotch demands, his gaze expectant.

resounding murmurs of “yes” fill out the area, to which the dark-haired agent replies to with a curt nod, before swiftly exiting the room.

You let out a breath, turning to the rest of the team with a faintly reluctant expression. “Let’s get this show on the road then, guys.”

Morgan flashes an easy smile, coming up behind Spencer and clapping him on the shoulder, his smooth voice infused with teasing. “You heard her, pretty boy, let’s get moving.”

Spencer has to resist an eye-roll, his cheeks immediately flushing raspberry red, whereas you just let out a small confused laugh - clearly not in on whatever inside joke that seems to be playing out - turning on your heel and prancing out of the room, leaving the two of them to squabble like 10-year-old brothers.

Though, on your way out, you swear you saw Emily squeeze JJ’s hand underneath the table…

Something went wrong. Terribly wrong.

You don’t know how - hell, nobody on the team knows how, but Humphrey somehow found out you were coming. He might’ve gotten some frustratingly accurate in-tell, or maybe he just… knew. After all, bad news attracts bad news, right? And being arrested for the murders of four women sure seems like pretty bad news. Or maybe he was a paranoid fuck. Either thought seems plausible, but currently pointless.

Ironically, Burn’s Funeral Home and Crematory, was well…burning. The two-story high foundation, which you’re guessing was once a depressing waxen colour, is now engulfed in orange. Bright, blazing orange, and for a moment, you almost believe the sun crash-landed onto earth.

The ignited shades dance across your features , making you look like you’re almost glowing. You hear Morgan let out a few curses, and Emily mutter something eerily close to “Oh my God” under her breath. But, the rest of you remain silent, devoid of speech, heads lifted up and staring at the fiery wreckage. Drawn in, entranced.

You can’t pull your eyes away, Not even when Hotch snaps out of his own silent gazing and begins to talk around you, shooting out instructions like darts to your co-workers. Well, until you hear a fire-man trudge past you, in full PPE and carrying a winding anaconda-like hose, writhing along the gravelled floor with each step he takes, similar orders being barked out of his mouth to his team-mates. But, that isn’t what grabs your attention, it’s the information coming from his radio.

A mother and her child are stuck in there, apparently looking for a casket for her husband before the building went up in flames, and they aren’t even going to attempt to save them - something about the fire being “too large, too risky.”

A mother and her child. Her 8-year-old little girl who just lost her father, and now is going to lose her own life, trapped in a scorching maze.

Not on your watch.

You will not, cannot, let this sick bastard take another girl’s life.

Your legs move before your brain even has time to catch-up, darting straight past multiple fire personnel who all try to stop you, but you dodge each one. Not even the sounds of the team shouting your name halts you, your figure retreating straight into the raging inferno.

What’s that saying? Moth to a flame?

Well, consider the molten-structure your flame. Because you won’t stop, will not stop, not until the mother and her daughter are out. Safe.

Either way, God appeared before Moses in the form of a fiery bramble. And maybe, he was doing it again, instead for their freedom, not yours or a 120-year-old man’s. You were getting them out of this desert, even if there were no miles of grainy-sand and the occasional tumbleweed, but instead hot, piercing, smouldering heat.

Spencer’s astute brain doesn’t take long to register what the hell you are doing. And, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt so panicked. He practically screeches your name, moving to go after you, but with no such luck as Morgan and Hotch hold him back. But he fights, and he fights harder than he’s ever had in his life, because this is you.

“Let me go! she’s in there! you can’t just let her go in there!” He shrieks, every word sharpened with utter desperation.

Neither Morgan’s nor Hotch’s replies to his incessant wailing actually penetrates his mind. He feels like he’s underwater, succumbing to the depths of the Mariana Trench, fading black and blue.

The water freezes over the longer you’re in there. Trapped in that dismal, enflamed formation. He feels sick, but he knows spilling his stomach content won’t provide any relief, it’s a sickness that’s lodged itself into his bones, into his very being. He wonders if this is what the Woolly Mammoths felt like during the first coming of the glacial-period, just observing as they, one-by-one, all perished to the frost.

He can’t have lost you. Not before he-

…Not before he could tell you that you’re his first thought when he wakes up, and his last before he surrenders himself to the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

No, this can’t be it. He refuses, he downright rejects the thought.

He just stares, and stares at the lit up property, his whole entity screaming for you to just make it. His mind and mouth spinning prayers to god’s he doesn’t even believe in because if there was any chance of that turning the cards in your favour, then he’s taking it and holding on tight.

The seconds feel like minutes, the minutes like hours. Time is a fickle thing, always stretching and compressing back together again depending on someone’s emotions. But, that philosophy does nothing to distract him from the ache. Because a life without you in it, he grasps, isn’t a life at all. Not one that he wants to live, anyway.

Two soot-covered frames emerge from the fiery entrance, immediately being swept away by fire-personnel for medical treatment. And his heart stops, until he realises you aren’t either of those coughing figures.

Where are you? Why aren’t you coming out?

Time seems to stretch again, expanding like a black-hole over his fitful, beating heart. Ready to consume, ravage. But, maybe, that would be an act of mercy, anything would be an act of mercy compared to the waiting. Agonising, hoping and waiting.

Then…a third figure finally bursts out of the flames. He’s seen that mop of hair before, he knows that hair. Even at a fair distance, hunched over and simultaneously gasping for air and hacking your lungs up, tousled, with skin embedded in ash, You’re beautiful and you’re alive.

You’re alive.

He pushes his body forward and he runs, he sprints and goes to you. And this time, Hotch and Morgan let him.

[written-and-readen]

The Odds Are Slim But Never Zero Part 2

Jing Yuan, Sunday, Gallagher x fem!reader (separate)

Part 1 (Dan Heng, Luka, Blade)

Summary: Someone walks in on you

Warnings: nsfw (18+), penetrative sex (Jing Yuan, Sunday), fingering (Jing Yuan, Gallagher), public sex (Gallagher, the bar is empty but still), getting caught

a/n: Sunday has been acquired. He’s so pretty. I have some other writing ideas for him but his character is hard for me so who knows.

Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is irresistible. It’s so, so hard to say no to him, which is probably how you ended up here. His hands have slowly slipped off each of your garments one by one as rays of early morning sun flood into the bedroom.

“Beautiful as always.” His voice is still laced with the remnants of sleep as he roams your body.

“And you’re eager.” You gasp when his hand comes up around your breast, giving it a light squeeze. It’s not enough to distract you from his erection poking your thigh though. “Really eager.”

“I’d like to think of it as appreciating my dear wife as often as possible.” Your back arches when two fingers push into your pussy. Your whines become the only sound in the room as starts up a steady rhythm of pumping in and out of you. You don’t think to warn him when you’re close. He can always tell without you having to say a word. Few things evade the Divine Foresight’s notice after all.

“Jing Yuan!” You cry out. He responds by pressing kisses to your shoulder while you fall apart on his fingers.

“Will you allow me to take care of my little problem?” He says after you shift around to face him.

“I think ‘little’ is poor word choice.” You pull him into a kiss, mumbling against his lips as he moves on top of you. Jing Yuan chuckles, leaning into your kiss. He throws the sheets aside, fully exposing every inch of you to his golden eyes. He pulls his cock out, poking the tip at your entrance before looking you in the eye.

“Ready?” The careful consideration of his words somehow makes you fall in love with him all over again.

“As I’ll ever be,” You reply, breath stolen the moment you get out the last word by his length pushing into you. Your hands grip white hair as you lose yourself in the pleasure, feeling your husband litter kisses around your collarbone.

“General!” You’re snapped from your trance by the door being bursting open by a Cloud Knight. Jing Yuan is swift to grab the sheets to block you from anyone’s view but his own.

“What is it?” You recognize his voice take on the decisive tone fit for a general.

“U-Uh, Lieutenant Yanqing wanted to let you know that he’s resolved the recent incident involving the missing cycranes. The culprit has been sent to the Realm Keeping Commission.” You commend him for keeping a mostly calm front aside from a few stutters here and there to give away his embarrassment.

“Thank you for the news.” Your husband doesn’t even have to verbally dismiss the knight before you hear his retreating footsteps and the door close.

“You need to tell the boy he can just write up a report in the future.” Your voice keens when Jing Yuan moves again, reminding you of his cock still buried inside you.

“He means well.” His tone softens to the one reserved only for you as his hands find a place on your hips once more. “Now where were we?” Jing Yuan is insatiable, but so hard to say no to.

Sunday

“Give me a minute,” Sunday says through gritted teeth. He’s currently bottomed out in your pussy trying not to cum right then and there. The way your walls perfectly hug his cock has him lost in you.

“Take your time.” You brush his bangs out of his eyes while giving him the sweetest look, and Sunday thinks he’s going to die. Then, there’s the way you suddenly tighten around him. It has his forehead falling into the crook of your neck.

You never imagined someone as composed as Sunday could be like this. Your hands run through his hair, and you try not to get poked by his halo as you wait for him to gather himself. The way he fills you up certainly has you wanting him to start moving, but his comfort comes first. You have to at least let him think he’s in control.

Your eyes are drawn by the door to your room sliding open. It’s Himeko and Welt, probably checking in on how the newest passenger is doing. Himeko’s eyes widen upon meeting yours, but she sends you a soft smile that makes your cheeks burn. You silently wave a hand to send them away, but Welt is already closing the door.

“What was that?” Sunday lifts his head at the sound of the door.

“Nothing!” You reach both hands up to cradle his face. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Yeah, Sunday’s sure you’ll be the death of him.

Gallagher

It’s so hot as your lips move against Gallagher’s. Your body feels like it’s on fire, the heat frying your brain so you can barely process anything other than him. Rough hands sneak under your shirt and skirt, holding you right where he wants you.

The two of you were supposed to be closing up Dreamjolt Hostelry for the night after Siobhan left, but one kiss led to another which led to Gallagher hoisting you onto the counter, positioning himself between your legs as you made out. You gasped when one of his hands travelled to rub you through your panties.

“Here?” You murmured nervously, pulling away from him for a second.

“I can finish up here and then we’ll head back to Dreamflux Reef if you want.” That distance in comparison to the proximity of his fingers to your sex right now had you crashing your lips back against his.

“Feeling risky today?” He chuckled at your sudden boldness.

“Just make it quick.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Gallagher tugs your panties down your legs before pocketing them. He warms you up with one finger, then adds another for a minute before three fingers are fucking you mercilessly. You lay your forehead on his shoulder, your ability to sit up straight melting away as the heat from your core spreads through your whole body.

“You couldn’t keep it in your pants until you got out of here?” A new heat rises to your cheeks as both you and Gallagher turn to see Siobhan, catching you both red handed with a look of disbelief. “I’m never forgetting my phone here ever again. You guys owe me lunch after this. Make that lunch for the rest of the week.” She sighs, leaving before either of you can get a word out, but the shock certainly hasn’t left.

“We should leave,” you both agree in unison. Gallagher lifts you off the counter, licking up some of your juices from his fingers after slipping them out.

“Sweeter than a dream.” He smiles at your flushed face before grabbing a dish rag to get rid of any incriminating evidence. The two of you make quick work of closing the place down with Gallagher eventually locking the door. You wrap your arms around his own as you leave.

“Are you going to give me back my panties yet?”

“Why would I? That saves us one step when we get back home.”

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: jungkook gets hurt during practice and the only thing y/n has in her backpack are miffy bandaids 

��� pairing; quarterback!jungkook x librarian!y/n

➺ genre; university!au!!! sfw!! soft soft fluff!! jungkook and y/n are so fond of each other wowowow it actually makes me physically nauseous please get a ROOM

➺ wordcount; 1k

»»————- ♥ ————-««

“ow!” jungkook hisses, wincing as you dab against the scrape on his arm with a cotton ball that’s been drenched in a generous amount of warm water, “ow…”

“sorry, i know…” you mutter, trying your best to be as gentle as possible as you reduce your pressure (you were already going feather light but jungkook has always been a big baby with cuts and scrapes) and toss the soiled cotton ball aside before reaching for another one in the big plastic bag, “i can’t believe you guys don’t have a proper first-aid kit.” 

“it’s taehyung’s fault, coach asked him to restock it and apparently he completely forgot.” jungkook snorts, glancing down at the rusty tin box sitting on the counter next to him - you managed to find it after about fifteen minutes of searching the changing rooms but you were more than disappointed when you opened the rusty old box to find practically nothing but dust 

but if this were a real emergency, jungkook would be bleeding out on the ground and all you’d have to try to save your boyfriend is a single q-tip and one dried out packet of rubbing alcohol

luckily, you always carry a mini first aid kit with you in your backpack - last winter you slipped on a rogue patch of ice and ended up falling to the ground, your poor books sliding across the sidewalk and your palms all scraped up and bloody, so ever since then, you’ve been carrying your little pouch with you in case of emergencies 

gauze, bandaids, cotton balls, surgical tape, and some hard candies - you have it all!! 

“explain to me again what the hell you guys were trying to do out there?”

“taehyung said that when one sense goes dark, the other ones become way stronger and we wanted to test that theory out-“ 

“so you did this on purpose-“ you pause, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “you blindfolded yourself and ran around the football field on purpose.” 

“i thought i had better instincts than this!” jungkook gestures to himself, his kneecaps all scraped up along with a few scratches on his arms, “and my head hurts…” 

watching jungkook run into the goal post full force would’ve been comical if it weren’t for the fact that that was literally what happened - he ran full force into a damn goal post and thank god he was wearing a helmet otherwise he probably would’ve knocked himself clean out

“i don’t wanna study anymore.” jennie huffs, leaning back against the benches behind you guys as she props her elbows up on them, “can’t we do something else to pass the time while they’re practicing?” 

“i don’t wanna study anymore either, but weirdly enough this is the only time i can really concentrate.” you shrug, keeping your eyes on your laptop as your fingers continue to dance across your keyboard, “is this the only google presentation the professor shared with us this week? i swear there’s another one-“ 

“all you care about are google presentations and taking notes-“

“it’s coming up to finals season, of course all i care about are google presentations and taking notes-“ 

KONK!

“oh, shit-!“ you look up when you hear taehyung’s loud laugh travel over to where you’re sitting, your eyes squinting slightly when you notice that jungkook on the ground, “wait, that was kinda sick, actually, we should do that again-“”

“aw, gross!” jungkook gets up from the ground and shakes himself off and that’s when you notice crimson smeared across his legs as he hobbles towards your general direction, taehyung trailing behind him, “yuck, there’s dirt and shit in my cuts-“

“oh my god, jungkook!” you slap your laptop shut and set it aside, grabbing your backpack and practically sprinting down the steps, “are you okay?! what the hell happened?!” 

and that’s how you ended up here - patching up your idiot boyfriend with nothing but miffy bandaids because that’s all the store was selling (it was miffy or hello kitty, and you’ve always loved miffy) - and you’ve practically used up the entire pack at this point 

“i just think that you have to think about whether or not an idea sounds stupid before deciding to do it.” you huff, tossing another soiled cotton ball into the bin before peeling open the thin wrapper for the bandaid

“well, how am i supposed to know if an idea is stupid or not?”

“you didn’t think blindfolding yourself and running around a football field was stupid?”

“no, i thought it was an innovative training technique that’s been undiscovered by coaches in the world of football!” jungkook perks up, sticking a finger up into the air before shutting his eyes so that you can tend to the little scratch above his eyebrow 

you settle in between his legs from where he’s sitting up on the counter and he instinctively reaches down to place both his hands a little above your waist before giving you a squeeze, “thank you, by the way.” he says softly, and you can’t help help but smile before leaning forward to press a little kiss to the corner of his mouth 

“you’re welcome. i’m gonna need a new box of miffy bandaids because you literally used up the entire thing.” you can’t help but frown as you place the last one on his brow bone, “on the bright side, you look really cute with miffy bandaids, so i don’t regret giving them all to you. but you seriously have to stop trying to kill yourself during practice.” 

“i’m more of a hello kitty guy, to be so real.” jungkook opens his eyes, leaning down to give you a quick kiss before pulling away, “and you worry too much about me.”

“you worry too little!” 

🎙️ ask y/n what kind of candy is in her first-aid pouch (talk to my characters!) 

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai, they miss you!) 

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!) 

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: papa

“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.” “Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives. “Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”

Summary: steve is on the brink of a constant nervous breakdown, eddie questions your taste in music, you and max go halfsies on your lives, angry hicks are scary, and the end of the world is near so of course now is the time for every emotional conversation ever. duh !

Rating: general, some swearing, violence

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, talk of death, lowkey suicidal thoughts but barely ??

Words: 15.9k

Before you swing in: hey gang !!! this chapter is a goddamn monster. it took forever to write for a million reasons, but the payoff is worth it in my biased opinion. we get a LOT of conversations in this chapter, all that have been brewing for seasons !!!!! the narrative is narrativing !!! we only have one more chapter, so sit back, relax, n enjoy :)

–

When Steve was a little kid, he would have nightmares about losing his parents. 

They started when he was seven. In the first dream, his mother had been in the car. She was driving away from him, beckoning him to follow, but Steve’s scrawny legs couldn’t keep up; he hadn’t reached her in time. 

He remembers waking up screaming for her. The terror of abandonment was heavy within his chest. It stifled his breathing. He remembers thinking that he was going to die. 

May Harrington rushed into her son’s room upon hearing his screams. She clutched him to her chest, smoothed down his wild hair. Steve had been too upset to explain the dream to her, then. His body simply melted into her embrace, relieved that she had still been there with him. That she hadn’t really left him. 

The dreams continued after that night. 

One time he had dreamt that his father locked him in the closet and told him that no one would ever see him again. Another night, Steve dreamt that his mother no longer loved him. That his love for her hadn’t been enough to convince her to stay. 

The dreams came sporadically. Sometimes Steve would go weeks without one. Other times, he would have one every night for a month. 

His father detested the dreams. He loathed what they did to his son. Not because of the fear that plagued Steve’s now pale skin, but because of how weak they made him. Richard Harrington would grip Steve’s arm tightly and command him to stop crying. The grip would leave bruises alongside his tear stained face. 

When Steve was nine, now too old to be having such vivid nightmares, his mother rocked him back and forth in her arms after a particularly difficult nightmare. Steve’s hiccupping breath echoed his tightening grip on the woman. 

“Oh, my beautiful boy. You’ll never lose me.” May stroked his back, her soothing voice floated around Steve. 

Steve clutched his mother even tighter. “But what if I do?”

May coaxed his head from her neck. She looked at him with such tenderness, such love. Her fingers grazed Steve’s face gently as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. She hummed, her voice lovely as always. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What secret, momma?” 

Steve will never forget the way his mother smiled at him. “When you love someone, you can never really lose them.”

And the secret settled a deep ache of uncertainty within her son. He loved hard and fast from then on. If Steve loved everyone he ever met, then he couldn’t lose them.

But then Steve was seventeen and he lost Nancy Wheeler.

Now Steve is nineteen and he’s about to lose you. 

One minute Nancy had been climbing up the rope. Your arms brushed Steve’s and your warmth reassured him that everything was going to be okay. You’d made it out. You were going to escape from the Upside Down and hold one another as soon as this was all over.

Until Nancy’s grip on the rope loosened and she fell. Steve barely had time to catch her before her dead weight landed upon him. Managing to stand her up, Steve finally realized what was happening. Her skin was pale and her body stiff.

She had gone into a vision. 

That’s when Steve turned to you. 

His entire world collapsed after that. You were frozen as well, as stiff as Nancy. The veins in your neck were pulled taunt. Steve thinks he screamed. 

And now he’s alone. You and Nancy have been taken from him. He can’t break you from whatever spell Vecna has the two of you under. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve doesn’t recognize his own voice. He can’t feel his body. He can’t feel yours beneath his hands as he desperately shakes you. Everything is numb from the fear that paralyzes him. 

The whites of your eyes blind him. Steve doesn’t know when they rolled back. 

“Steve, what’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. Every nerve in your brother’s body is on edge. Something isn’t right. You’re too still. 

“He’s-he’s got them!” Steve can’t bring himself to let go of you. He just wants to see the color in your eyes again. He wants you to wake up and laugh at him and call him stupid names and remind him that he’s yours. 

Above Steve he can hear screaming. Everyone starts shouting at one another, running around in a panic. No one knows what to do.

“Stay with me, angel.” Steve cradles your head. “Please.”

He can’t lose you. Steve wouldn’t survive a world without you in it. All the warmth and love within the world would leave the second you took your last breath. 

A body lands beside yours, tearing you out of Steve’s grasp. Seeing red, he turns, fists clenched and ready to throw a punch, but he only finds Dustin. The kid’s eyes are shell shocked, a manic look in them as he shakes his sister. 

“Do you have her walkman?” 

Steve almost can’t hear him over the pounding of his heart. “W-what?”

“Y/N’s walkman!” Dustin exclaims, rifting through your pockets. His hands are shaking and he can’t form any other thought besides finding the goddamn walkman. He knows you have it. He made sure that you wouldn’t go anywhere without it. “Steve, where is it?”

“I-I don’t know!” He can’t breathe. He’s too paralyzed by the idea of losing you forever. Then he remembers Nancy and it’s all too much. He can’t lose her either. She’s a part of him in a way that Steve will never be able to explain. “What about Nancy? What the hell do we do?”

“We need to find the fucking walkman.” When Dustin’s fingers feel plastic in your pocket, hope jumps in his throat. Letting out a breath, he pulls it out and quickly gets to work on unwrapping all the plastic that encases it. Only the wrapping is too thick, Dustin wants to scream. “Help me get this shit off!”

Steve yanks the device out of the boy’s grasp and claws at the mess of plastic and knots. Dustin had made sure to secure it when he left you at Lover’s Lake. While it kept the walkman bone dry, you’re now paying the price. It’s almost impossible to tear off. 

“Fuck!” Steve tries to bite through it, but it’s no use. 

“Give me it.” Dustin snatches the walkman back, now holding your knives. He starts cutting through the plastic quickly, but he notices Nancy start to convulse next to you. Panicking, Dustin shouts at Steve, “Help her!”

“But what about Y/N–”

“Now isn’t the goddamn time to argue!” Dustin screeches. He’s almost finished cutting through all the plastic. “I have Y/N. Focus on Nancy!”

It’s what you would want. Steve and Dustin both know this. And as much as it physically pains Steve to let go of you, he knows that you’d never forgive him if he allowed Nancy to die. 

Stumbling over his feet, he grabs her shoulders. Her body is as cold as yours. Her own whites of her eyes taunt Steve. Shaking Nancy, he screams up to the others, “Whatever you guys are doing, hurry up!”

“I got it!” Dustin holds up the now freed walkman, cheering. He can save you. He will save you. All he has to do now is put the headphones over your ears and play the music you love and his sister will be okay.

But then your body starts to convulse. The sight is gruesome. Your fingers bend sideways, your neck snaps back, and your chest collapses into itself. Terrified, Dustin screams your name over and over again. 

Hearing the boy’s pained cries, Steve tears himself away from Nancy. When he sees your body shaking violently, bile and fury rise to his throat. “No.”

He’ll be damned if you die tonight. Steve grabs the walkman from Dustin and opens it. Inside, there’s only one tape. 

For bug.

“Henderson, look at me.” There’s a list of songs messily scrawled on it. Steve shoves the cassette in Dustin’s face, forcing him to read the tracks on it. “Which one is her favorite?” 

Dustin struggles to catch his breath. He forces his vision to sharpen, the words float around in his head. They’re all songs he doesn’t know. None of them would work, none of them except–

“The Beatles!” Dustin is already queuing the song, fingers shaking. They’re your favorite band. When you were younger, your father would softly play their songs on his guitar every Sunday morning. Dustin was never able to remember the lyrics, but you always did.

Steve shoves the headphones on you. Dustin presses play.

That’s when your body lifts. 

– 

Music. 

There is music. A familiar guitar progression. Someone used to strum their fingers to produce the same chords. Their rough timbre would accompany the strings and the sweet smell of pine and grass would lull you. 

There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed. 

Green. Over a hill there is a house. Floorboards creak beneath your feet and there is a yellow couch pressed against the window, overlooking the flowers in the garden. Somewhere there is laughter. You’re a little girl chasing your younger brother around the tree, giggling.

Some forever, not for better. Some have gone and remain.

A moving van. The boxes you spent hours packing are shoved into the vehicle roughly. A long drive. A small town, smaller than the one you ran away from. There is a new house with a yellow door to match the couch your mother got to keep. Across the street a boy with black hair is riding his bike. Your brother follows him. 

Night falls and you’re standing on someone’s porch. There’s a boy your age and his hair falls into his eyes. Words are exchanged. He tells you his name is Jonathan. Your hand touches his and suddenly the world doesn’t feel so lonely anymore. The front door opens. A girl tells you your brother is inside with hers. She’s shy, small and beautiful, but her eyes are cunning. 

All these places had their moments. With lovers and friends, I still can recall.

A smaller house owned by a woman who radiates warmth and love for you. Her sons and their adoration. Bug and bee and childhood nicknames. Sleepless nights filled with hushed laughter. Whispered I love you’s. The smell of fresh baked cookies and the sound of four boys who all view you as their sister. 

There’s a boy with pretty brown eyes and pink lips. Hands wrap around your waist as he saves you. Over and over again he saves you. He begs you for a nickname. His smile fills your lungs and you’re falling. Angel. He calls you angel. 

A girl with fiery red hair and a girl who prefers your touch over words. They giggle together. You dress them in your old clothes. Ice cream melts against your tongues and the summer heat kisses your cheeks. There’s another girl. She’s older. You're in a bathroom stall together and she laughs at all your jokes and calls you pretty girl.

Some are dead and some are living. In my life, I’ve loved them all.

An old man wearing a police hat. He reminds you of your father. Gruff and bitter but he lets you tease him. A cabin in the woods and the waffles he always made for you. A home he has made for you and his daughter. 

There are cold, blue eyes. The boy is your age but the anger within him resembles your father’s. He’s violent. Alone. He’s all alone. Blood drips from his body and you hear a girl scream his name. Billy. 

Your mother cradles your face as you cry. She tells you she’s sorry. Your brother tells you he misses who you used to be. The kindness that you burned to spite your father. 

Soft lips kiss your stained hands. The mouth whispers reassurances. He tells you he loves you. Late night drives. Kissing underneath the stars. Constants and honey and forgiveness. 

A charm bracelet. Building a fort in the rain. Biking to houses with a band of kids in tow. Singing songs in a field. Bickering and loyalty and friendship that leaves you in awe. 

Though I know I’ll never lose affection for people and things that went before.

Memories float through you, into you, around you. 

And you remember. 

I know I’ll often stop and think about them.

You remember everything. 

“Y/N!” 

Steve’s voice pulls you back to where you belong. He’s pleading. Dustin’s screams cut through the noise in your head. Everything is muffled. You can’t move. Why can’t you move? They’re screaming for you and you can’t get to them. 

In my life, I love you more.

But you love them. With everything within you, you love them. There is a blinding light of molten warmth of love in your rib cage. They put it there. It melts your bones. They need you. All this love within you is theirs, so why can’t you move?

“Y/N, angel, stay with me.”

You want it more than anything. You want to stay. You want to live. You can’t leave them behind. Any of them. Steve and Dustin and Jonathan and Robin and Nancy and Max and–

Pain erupts in your ankle as your body lands harshly on the ground. It shocks your system, causing your eyes to fly open. 

Steve is cradling you in his arms. He holds onto you desperately and he’s crying. Sharp inhales expand your lungs as sobs choke your breath. Your skin slides against Steve’s and he’s warm and rough and littered with scars and you aren’t sure if any of this is real.

But Steve is holding you. If this is some sick, twisted vision, then at least you’ll die in his arms. Your death will have been worth something if Steve’s face is the last thing you see. Yet when you look into his eyes, the fear and desperation within them is real. The tears are real. The agony and love is real. 

He’s real.

“Y/N! Angel, oh my God.” Steve’s hands grip your face. He’s ashen and music still plays. His pleas are muffled by it, you can barely make out what he’s saying. He risks looking away from you for a second. “Dustin! She-she’s awake!”

Within seconds your brother falls to his knees and presses his face to your stomach. He’s crying. The hot tears burn your bloodied skin but your weak hands still find him anyways. You hold Dustin tightly, selfishly. When you try to bury your face in Steve’s shoulder, something solid knocks against your head.

“Keep your headphones on.” Steve blocks your hand from taking them off. He isn’t letting you take them off ever again.

Headphones. The music playing, the memories that guided you home. Steve had saved you with your walkman. The realization causes you to jerk in his arms. You’re alive. This is real. Vecna almost killed you. You escaped.

Then where is Nancy?

“Nancy–” You try to get up, but Steve and Dustin hold you down. Panic swells in your chest. Nancy was with you. Vecna brought the two of you into his world, yet only one of you made it out. “Where is she? Is she–?”

Steve’s eyes betray him, revealing to you where Nancy is. She stands across from you, catatonic, and suddenly all the fear is back again. Tearing out of Dustin’s and Steve’s grasps, you run towards her. 

“Nancy!” You shake her viciously. She has to wake up. It can’t just be you who gets to live. You won’t let him win. Not like this. Above you, you see Max and Lucas running around. Eddie’s trailer is a wreck. They’re searching for something. “What are they looking for?”

Dustin tugs Nancy’s arm. “Music for her. It’s our only option.”

“Music.” you mumble, the song from your childhood still playing through your headphones. Nancy needs music. It’s the only way to get through to someone under Vecna’s curse. It’s what saved you. 

A song from your childhood brought you back to the ones you love. With Nancy’s life on the line, the song has to bring her back to you, too.

Ripping your headphones off, you shove them onto Nancy’s head. Steve and Dustin scream at you to put them back on. Your body had been floating not even a minute ago, but you don’t care. Ignoring their protests, your fingers fumble trying to find any possible song on the mixtape that can save her. 

“Please,” fresh tears fall onto the walkman. You can’t lose Nancy. Your relationship may be strained and complicated and tainted by a history neither one of you created yourselves, but she’s your dearest admiration. The world would be dim without her spark. You’ve lost so many people in your life. Pressing your forehead to Nancy’s, you breathe out, “Not you. I can’t lose you, too.”

A strangled gasp escapes Nancy’s mouth. The sound startles you, barely giving you or Steve enough warning to catch her as she falls. 

“You’re okay,” you brush her hair out of her face. Nancy’s chest rises and falls quickly. She’s hyperventilating, in a deep state of panic, and you hold her face delicately. She’s like a frightened deer, you’re afraid you’ll speak too loud and scare her away. “You’re okay, it’s okay.”

Steve is careful not to move her in his arms. “Breathe, Nancy. We’re right here.”

The words are meant to be calming. Your hands on Nancy’s face are meant to make her feel safe, loved. But she stares up at you and Steve with tears in her eyes and despair etched into her skin. 

Nancy begins to cry even harder and you don’t know what to do. “I need you to breathe–”

“The-the music.” She tries to sit up, but Steve won’t let her. Arms weak, she struggles against him. She looks at you frantically, trying to tear the headphones off of her. “You-you need them. He almost-he almost got you. The things he showed me, they were–”

Nancy sobs again, barely able to look at you out of guilt.

She remembers what she saw in your vision. 

The knowledge of this is ice cold against your skin, but there’s something else in Nancy’s reaction that unnerves you. This isn’t just about her now knowing your insecurities regarding her. This is something deeper. Bigger than any estranged relationship.

Vecna made her see something else.

Swallowing deeply, you level your eyes to hers. “Tell me everything, Nancy.”

And she does.

– 

Max’s trailer is all you have left. The cops swarmed Nancy’s house the second Patrick’s body was found. Your home is barricaded off from the public. They’re looking for Dustin, for you, and you don’t want to imagine how distraught your mother must be right now.

For lack of better words, it’s fucking depressing sitting in Max’s trailer surrounded by everyone. Exhaustion ghosts their faces. 

Lucas can’t seem to look away from you, the exhaustion of fear dulling his skin. Max taps her fingers anxiously. She hasn’t left your side since you’ve returned. Eddie nods at you, solemn. Erica, who arrived after the cops interrogated her, gives you a pitying look. 

Robin and Dustin hover you as if afraid you’ll disappear. Steve sits on the couch and presses his legs against your back as you sit on the floor; he needs to feel the heat of your body at all times. A reminder to him that you’re still alive. 

Nancy stands across from everyone. She insisted on doing this herself, that you didn’t need to be standing with her. While she’s always been stubborn and brave, you know she only does this because of the guilt. 

“He showed me things that haven’t happened yet,” Nancy rasps. Her eyes remain on the floor. She can’t look at anyone while she describes all the wreckage she saw. Downtown Hawkins on fire. Dead soldiers littering the streets.  

“And this giant creature, with a gaping mouth. It wasn’t-it wasn’t alone.” Nancy bites the inside of her cheek. She can’t afford to be afraid now. “There were so many monsters. An army. And they… they were coming into Hawkins. Into our neighborhoods. Our homes.”

Your nails dig into your palms. The sting quells the fear that rises within you. The more Nancy describes, more fury replaces your nausea. Hawkins is your home. There are so many good people within this town. Your family. The Wheelers. The Byers and the Sinclairs and the Mayfields and everyone else. 

So many innocent lives. All reduced to rubble and death by a rotting corpse from the Upside Down. 

Yet you still can’t get a hold of El. The only person who truly has any idea of how to stop Vecna is gone. She’s across the country with a landline that apparently doesn’t fucking work. It’s bullshit. It’s all complete and utter bullshit. 

“He showed me my mom. And Holly. Mike… And they were all–” When Nancy breaks, your fury melts into sympathy. You’re walking over to her in seconds, and Nancy throws herself into your arms as she cries. 

“He won’t hurt them.” You promise her, though it’s an empty promise that you both recognize. Neither one of you has any idea of how to stop Vecna. But Nancy clings to the comfort and allows herself to be weak. 

Lost in your worry for the girl, you miss Dustin speaking to you. He clears his throat awkwardly, raises his voice. You turn your attention to him, nodding to indicate you’re listening. 

“Did you see the same thing as Nancy?” Dustin asks you, shifting uncomfortably. The reminder of your body rising into the air only hours ago burns. “Did you… did you share the same vision?”

You and Nancy stiffen at the same time. She pulls away from you as if you’ve burned her. The shame of what she saw in your vision… Too much was revealed to her in an unfair way.

No one can ever know what you saw. It’s too painful, too embarrassing, but you know that the information could be important. Clearing your throat, you answer with what you can. “No, he didn’t show me Hawkins, just my…”

Your voice trails off. Everyone looks at you expectantly, waiting for more. Nancy described her visions in such detail, yet all you can give them are a few words. 

“Just my insecurities.” You clear your throat again. “He was trying to scare me. Similar to what he showed Max. I only got out of it because Steve saved me with the music.” He smiles at you, though it’s pained. Trying to ease the heaviness in the room, you shrug halfheartedly. “The Beatles. Saving lives since 1986.”

It works, albeit with minimal reactions. 

“The Beatles, huh?” Eddie gives you a weak smile. “That’s really what you consider music?”

“I almost died. Cut me some slack.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say more, but Steve shoves a hand in his face and shuts him up. He’s anxious. He hates how much the nine of you still don’t know. He doesn’t want to believe that Nancy’s vision had been real. “Maybe that’s all Vecna is doing. Trying to scare us. It’s not real.”

“Not yet.” Nancy lets out a defeated laugh. She isn’t convinced. Neither are you. That’s when she reveals the gates. How there were four of them spread across Hawkins. “This wasn’t the Upside Down Hawkins. This was our Hawkins. Our home.”

The hair on your arms stands up. He’s targeting your home. The fury is back; you hate Vecna. You hate him with everything within you.

Yet, in sickening irony, from the little you know about Vecna, you do know that nothing he does is accidental. He wouldn’t show Nancy four gates without it meaning something. A deep, awful churning sensation constricts in your esophagus. “Is he… trying to combine our worlds?”

“Four chimes.” Max finally speaks up. “Vecna’s clock.”

Everyone turns. Max only looks at you. “It always chimes four times. You heard them, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” your mouth is dry. The chimes were the first thing you heard. It was how you knew Vecna had gotten you. “I heard them.”

“I heard them, too.” Nancy whispers. 

The room almost seems to hold its breath as everyone comes to the realization at the same time; you’re too afraid to breathe life into the words. Vecna has been telling you his plan this entire time. 

“Four kills.” Lucas slowly looks around the room. “Four gates… End of the world.”

His voice trails off and Dustin’s stomach drops. He studies everyone’s faces. No one seems to realize yet what he has. Dustin looks at you and for the first time in his life resents his intelligence; he wishes he could be naive. 

“If that’s true…” Dustin can’t say it. He can’t bring himself to say it.

“Then he’s only one kill away.” You finish for your brother, instinctively looking at Max. While everyone reacts to what you’ve said, cursing and filling with dread, you and Max stare at one another. You’re both thinking the same thing. 

Vecna is one kill away, and you’re both marked. 

Max’s jaw clenches. She can practically read your mind, knowing that you hope the death will be yours. That you’ll do anything to be the final kill if it means saving her life. All you’ve done this entire week is ensure Max’s safety. You’ve put her life above yours again and again. 

When Vecna almost killed her in the cemetery, Max heard you beg him to take you instead. It infuriated her.

There were you, ready to give up your life for hers without even considering how your death would affect everyone else. Max’s death would go unnoticed. She knows this and she’s accepted it.

But your death would fundamentally alter the earth’s makeup. You are the warmth that her and everyone else needs to survive. If you died because of Max, she knows everyone would blame her. It would be one more death that she caused. Your ghost would join Billy’s. 

Max shakes her head at you. A small, subtle and curt shake. One meant for only you to see. You breathe in sharply. Her stony gaze sears into your skin. The message is clear: Max won’t let you die, either. 

“Try Byers again.” Steve’s urgent voice prevents you from trying to argue with Max. He doesn’t see the interaction. He’s too lost in his own mind, mentally sifting through every possible solution he can come up with. Someone has to know something. “Try calling him again, Y/N.”

Steve is anxious and the crease between his brow deepens when he looks at you. He can’t let you die and you don’t have the heart to remind him that you’ve tried calling the Byers home repeatedly this week, just to be met with a busy signal. 

Instead you sigh and walk over to the phone. Dialing the long memorized number, the line rings. And rings. And rings again. Until the beep of the busy tone alerts you that the line is full. “Damn it!”

You slam your fist against the wall, frustrated tears threatening to spill over. Dustin bites his lip at your reaction. “Guessing he didn’t respond.”

“Maybe she typed it in wrong…?” The death glare you send Steve quickly has him backtracking. “I-I mean it’s possible!”

“The Byers are like Y/N’s second family, dingus.” Robin flicks your boyfriend’s head for you, which you appreciate her for.

You try dialing the number again, but the same thing happens. It rings a few times before the busy signal drones on. Frustrated and worried, you slam the phone down. “No answer. Again. It’s been like this all fucking week.”

“Didn’t you say Joyce has that new telemarketer job? She’s always on the phone. Mike never stops whining about it.” Dustin tries to reason.

Max looks at him, skeptical. “A busy signal for three days?” 

“I’ve never gone this long without hearing from them. They always answer…” fear pricks your skin. “Someone always calls me back. El, Will, Jonathan… something’s wrong.”

“She’s right. It can’t just be coincidence.” Nancy’s uncertainty mirrors your own. The two of you are the closest to the Byers. Their silence is unnerving. 

“What are the odds that something is happening in Lenora?” 

Nancy frowns at you. “Pretty high. And whatever is happening there, it has to be connected to all of this.”

“But how?” 

Everything that has ever happened in Hawkins has remained in Hawkins. While you don’t understand how or why, the Upside Down is tied to this shitty town. It doesn’t make any sense for it to spill over into California, hundreds of miles away.

“I don’t know.” Nancy looks out Max’s window, her face hardening. “But at least Vecna can’t hurt them.”

You laugh bitterly. “I never thought I’d be so happy that they’re in California.”

Every day you miss the Byers like an open wound. You miss Jonathan and his slanted smile. Will and his tenderness. El and her sweet laugh. Joyce and her warm embrace. Their absence is palpable in your life, but for once you’re relieved that they’re gone.

They’re as far away from danger as they can possibly be. Vecna, as far as you know, can’t reach them from Hawkins. Though you may not know why they’ve gone radio silent, at the very least you know they’re alive. 

“I’m not just talking about how far away they are.” Nancy turns to you. Color has returned to her face. Her eyes are bright again and she’s alive with an idea. “Vecna can’t hurt them if he’s dead.”

Nancy Wheeler has always been protective of the ones she loves. You both are; it’s what has tied the two of you together. The only difference is that Nancy sees red where you see cautionary yellow. 

“We have to go back in there. Back to the Upside Down.”

You almost pass out from how quickly you stand. “Are you insane?”

Steve grabs your waist, steadying you, while Eddie rocks back and forth on the couch mumbling to himself. Robin lets out a scared squeak and you can practically see every possible way you can die in the Upside Down before your very eyes. 

“We’re going to die,” you laugh hysterically, finally reaching your breaking point. “Nancy, we are going to die if we go back there.”

“Not if we’re prepared! This time we’ll get weapons and-and protection. We’ll go through the gate, find his lair, and we’ll kill him.”

“Oh, because it’ll be that easy, right? Look,” you break from Steve and grab Nancy’s arm, forcing her to look at you. “I’ve always gone along with your plans. But this? This is too far.”

Steve joins you, looking equally as overwhelmed and alarmed. “Y/N’s right. And, might I add, the only reason you survived is because he wanted you to. He’s not scared of us!”

Nancy falters for a moment. She knows Steve is right. Everyone knows that it wasn’t your music that brought her back. Vecna only allowed her to survive because he could. 

“He let you live because somehow it’s all a part of his plan.” You urge, frustrated that Nancy can’t see what you see. “What if this is what he wants? He knows us, he’s been watching us. He knows you, Nancy. You could be falling right into his trap.”

“And it’s a fucking good trap!” Robin jumps to her feet, already starting to pace as she mumbles to herself. “We were wrong about Vecna. Henry? One? I’m sorry, what are we calling him now?”

Everyone gives her a different response, and you chime in with your own suggestion: “Bitch.”

“I like bitch, but it isn’t really PG, is it?” Robin cracks a smile before remembering where she is. She rambles on about how all you’ve managed to learn about Vecna is that he’s a sick, twisted version of El with deadly powers. “He could turn us inside out with a snap of his fingers. It’s not a fair fight.”

“Then why fight fair?” Dustin finally speaks up. He’s thought of something, too. “You’re right. He’s like Eleven, but that gives us an upper hand.”

Frustratingly, your brother has a point. Ducking your head, you voice what he’s thinking. “Which means we know her strengths and weaknesses.”

“Exactly.”

“Weaknesses?” Erica looks at you and Dustin as if you’re insane. 

Dustin explains how El’s powers work. When he mentions the trance she always seems to fall under when she remote-travels, Lucas snaps his fingers. “That would explain what Vecna was doing in that attic.”

“And when he attacks his next victim–”

“His body will be defenseless…” you breathe out, hope igniting in your chest despite your attempts to snuff it out. 

Steve scoffs at you. “Defenseless? What about the army of bats?” He motions towards his bruised neck before pointing down at your thigh. “I mean, I love you, but I think you’re missing most of your thigh.”

“Only a quarter is gone.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, maybe a little more.”

Dustin waves his hands at you and Steve. “Alright, we get it. The bats were a bitch, but all we need to do is find a way to distract them.”

“And, uh.” Eddie begins to rise from the couch. “How do we do that, exactly?”

“No idea.”

Eddie sits back down. You smile at him, tight lipped. He should’ve expected an answer like that, honestly. 

Dustin doubles down on his plan. “It’ll be like slaying sleeping Dracula in his coffin.”

But there are components to his plan that the group still needs to figure out. “We’d need someone to lure him, get him into the trance in the first place.”

Robin nods eagerly at you. “My thoughts exactly, and we don’t even know who he’s going to attack next–”

“Yeah, we do.” 

Your heart stops. 

Everyone turns to Max. She only meets your gaze. Her jaw is set, the same hardened look in her eyes from when she shook her head at you returns.

Knowing where this is going, you stand in front of Max and block her from the others. “No.” 

“I can still feel him–”

“No.” You can’t believe Max is even entertaining the idea of you letting her be the bait. As if you’d ever put her in that kind of danger. Like you wouldn’t die a million times if it meant she got to live once. “You know I won’t let you.”

Max glares back at you. “I’m still marked.”

“So am I.” A bitter laugh. “We’re both cursed. You and me. We’re one in the same, but I’m not letting you be the bait.”

“What, so I’m just expected to let you sacrifice yourself?” Max laughs incredulously. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. Max Mayfield, the one who killed Hawkins’ sweetheart, responsible for yet another death!”

You try to reach out to her, but Max stumbles back. “No one is dying, alright? And you wouldn’t be responsible for my death. I’m choosing to do this. You’re-you’re just a kid, Max. It’s my job to protect you–”

“I never asked you to protect me!” Max screams, startling you into silence. The volume of her voice seems to surprise her as well because she takes a step back, breathing heavily. “I never… I never asked for any of this.”

Silence swallows the room. Max looks at you, her eyes pleading. Her words swim in your head. What did she mean by being responsible for another death? That she would be blamed for yours? 

“You didn’t ask me to protect you,” your voice shakes slightly. Holding her gaze, you allow your tears to fall. “But I never asked to lose you, either.”

Max breathes in sharply. Your words cut through her guard, breaking down the last of her walls. She’s silent again. 

“Neither one of you are going.” Steve is next to you now, hand falling against your back. He looks between you and Max, voice gentle, but firm.

“What if we… leveled the playing field?” Dustin hesitantly suggests. Lucas and Steve frown at him, shocked he’s even considering any of this seeing how protective he is of you. Dustin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “Look, they’ve both had visions. They’re both next. And whether we like it or not, Vecna has only doubled his chances of winning.”

Eddie stares at him in disbelief. “What, so we just have them both be the bait? Toss ‘em both to Vecna and see which one he bites?” 

“I’d word it better, but…” Dustin bites his lip, staring at you. “Yeah.”

Behind you, Steve tries to shove past the others to get to you. Only Lucas stops him, shaking his head at the older teen. Now isn’t the time, Lucas knows that Steve will say something he'll regret. 

Steve wants to scream. He doesn’t at all like what he’s hearing, but when he looks at you and notices the interest in your eyes, he feels his heart drop. You’re really considering this. You’re really willing to put yourself in danger to save Hawkins.

Because it’s what you do. It’s what you’ve always done. You’re too good for this world. Steve can’t let you get hurt, not like this. 

Tentatively you look at Max. “If one of us is in the Upside Down…”

“And the other in the attic in Hawkins.” Max continues for you, relieved you seem to understand. “He’s guaranteed to find one of us. And whoever he chooses, we just… we just need to keep him busy long enough so that the others can get into the attic.”

A game of luck disguised as a compromise. Even though luck has never been on your side, Max won’t back down from this, and neither will you. 

However this story ends, you hope that it’s your body that is buried. Max, thinking the same thing, smiles pitifully at you. Reaching a stalemate, all you can do now is smile back at her.

“Do me a favor,” you turn to the rest of the group. “When you stab him, blow him up with whatever explosives Dustin inevitably comes up with, however you end up killing this piece of shit… Try not to miss.”

“For both of us.” Max says. 

Steve’s hand presses harshly against your back. He’s biting his tongue. You can feel all the unsaid resentment and protests that die in his throat. Exhaustion darkens his eyes and you want, more than anything, to promise him that everything will be okay.

But you can’t. 

Not this time. 

– 

Eddie slams down a massive flier onto the table. With big, bold letters and an abundance of American flags in the background, the flier is your worst nightmare.

“‘The War Zone?’” You look at Eddie uncertainly. “Not a very welcoming store name.”

“That’s because it’s not a very welcoming store, princess.” He winks at you. “But I’ve been there before, and it’s huge. They’ve got everything you need for, uh…”

“War?”

“I was gonna say killing things, but war works, too.”

Robin pokes your side, gently moving you aside so that she can look over Eddie’s shoulder. “Think fake Rambo has enough guns there?”

“Well there’s a grenade sale going on, so.” You shrug at her. “I’m willing to bet they’ve got enough guns. And an aversion to laws.”

Robin still looks unsure, but Eddie quickly explains that the War Zone is far enough away from Hawkins that no one will recognize any of you there. With a wanted murderer and multiple accomplices in your group, anonymity is your only option. 

“But if we’re trying to avoid angry hicks, maybe we shouldn’t go to some store called the War Zone.” Erica points out, which you snort at.

“She’s not wrong.”

Nancy sighs. “Normally I’d agree, but we need the weapons. I think it’s worth the risk.”

Lucas agrees, but Dustin reminds everyone that you currently have no way to get there. Steve’s car is gone and all you have are bikes and prayers. 

Eddie smiles wickedly at your brother. “Who said anything about bikes?”

“What, you got some car we don’t know about?” Steve asks him.

“It’s not exactly a car, Steve. And it’s not exactly mine, but… it’ll do.”

You step in between Steve and Eddie. “What do you mean it’s not exactly yours?”

He ignores your question and looks at Max. “Hey, Red, you got a ski mask, or a bandanna, something like that?”

“Why the fuck do you need a ski mask–” You hit at Eddie’s chest, worry growing more and more by the second. 

Eddie catches your hand that swings down at him, a devious smile. “Have you ever stolen a RV, Y/N?”

“No. No fucking way.” You’ve never hated an idea more. “That’s someone’s home. And-and it’s a crime. A huge one at that, like insanely huge and very, very illegal–”

Dustin pats your back, laughing to himself. “C’mon. Lighten up a bit. Do it for science, for the world!”

“What does science have to do with any of this? We’re talking about literally robbing someone’s entire livelihood to go kill some wrinkly old guy and there’s no way in hell that I am ever agreeing to stealing a RV–”

You end up stealing a fucking RV. 

Eddie is wearing a ridiculous ski mask that Max once wore for Halloween as he guides you through the trailer park. Weaving in and out of mobile homes, Eddie finds his target and throws himself through the window. 

Steve jumps in next, leaning out the side so that he can then help you climb through. The window is just tall enough to be painful to squeeze into, and you let out several choice words as Steve pulls you up. 

“You alright?” He asks you once you’re in.

“I hate everything about this.”

“Henderson, you got anything sharp?” Eddie whispers from the driver’s seat. He’s holding a bunch of wires that all look the same to you.

Digging into your pocket, you toss him your knives. “If anyone asks, you stole them from me.”

Eddie smirks at you, flicking the knives open and cutting random wires. He works quickly, with practiced ease, and Steve notices, too. “Where’d you learn how to do this?”

Eddie’s fingers tie wires together and he laughs sarcastically. He explains that his father was the one who taught him, bitter and relentless. “I swore to myself I’d never wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto. So, uh. I’m really livin’ up to the Munson name.”

“Aren’t fathers lovely?” You force a laugh, but you can still feel the heavy weight of your father’s hands around you. The vision, how real he had seemed. Eddie gives you an odd, slightly concerned look, before Robin suddenly appears. 

“Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving this thing.”

You bite your lip. “Honestly, I also don’t like the idea.”

“Oh, I’m just starting this sucker. Harrington’s got her.” Eddie leans in close to Steve, almost flirting with him. “Don’t ya, big boy?” 

Steve’s off-put expression, the pure joy in Eddie’s eyes and Robin’s utter confusion, it all makes you laugh hysterically. This entire situation is so fucking bizarre. Here you are, hotwiring a RV with Eddie goddamn Munson while he flirts with your boyfriend. 

The engine sparks to life, cutting your laughter short, and within seconds the married couple who owns the RV is pounding on the windows. Cover blown, Steve curses and shoves Eddie out of the way so that he can throw you against the passenger seat. 

“Get ready!” Steve shouts after making sure you’re secured before jumping into the driver’s seat.

Heart pounding, you quickly shout over your shoulder to the kids. “Everyone, hang on!”

Dustin scrambles onto the back window and holds on for dear life. “Drive, Steve!”

Throwing his foot on the gas, the RV pulls out of the trailer park with impressive speed. For being more home than mobile, you have to tightly clutch the sides of your seat in fear of flying forward. 

“Shit, they look pissed.” Dustin watches the couple run after the RV, but it’s a lost cause.

“I mean, it’s not every day you lose your house and your car in one fell swoop.” Robin says, body jolting due to the rough terrain. 

Steve screams, telling everyone to hold on, before he barrels through a pile of garbage. The RV takes a rough turn, tilting slightly, before finally finding the road. The tires squeal, but Steve manages to steady the vehicle and grace you with smoother driving. 

“We’re felons.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as you rub your stomach, nauseous. “I can’t believe we just stole that poor couple’s home.”

“Think Spidey would understand?” Steve spares you a glance as he drives.

“Don’t ever evoke his name while committing a felony.”

– 

For the first few miles, all you could focus on was the squeezing knot of guilt in your chest as the adrenaline crashed. Every car you passed set you on edge. Every passing second you were terrified you’d encounter cops and get pulled over, sent to jail.

However, after about fifteen miles, you finally settle into the drive. Despite all you’ve been through, it’s still a beautiful time of year. The spring trees are green and soft music plays on the radio. Everyone is quiet, looking out the windows or talking amongst themselves.

Steve looks at ease driving the RV, the dewy sun framing his beautiful face. This is the calmest you’ve seen him all week. Feet propped up on the dashboard, you poke his arm. “You look real comfortable driving this thing.”

He smiles softly, shrugging. “It’s not half bad, considering this is a house.”

You giggle, smiling along with him. A comfortable silence follows and the music floats around you. The guitar strings are sweet, melancholy, and they make you miss your father. “My dad used to play this song on his guitar.”

“He did?” Steve seems surprised you’ve brought your father up, and you don’t blame him. It isn’t often that you talk about him.

“Yeah,” you’re not sure why you’re telling Steve this. Not now, at least. Driving a stolen RV to a war store for supplies. “He’d play it around bonfires. Everyone loved it. It was… it was nice.”

“Did he… play any other songs?” Steve doesn’t want to push you. He’s honestly just grateful you’ve shared even this small snippet of your life with him, but Steve will always want to know more about you. 

You pause for a moment. You’re not used to talking about this with anyone else. Only Dustin and Jonathan. “The Beatles. He really loved the Beatles.”

“Sounds like your dad had good taste in music, then.” 

“Yeah,” smiling to yourself, you allow this one good memory of your father to linger. “He really did.”

After a beat of silence, Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t want this softness to end. “Thank you for telling me, angel.”

You shrug, cheeks burning. You’re uncomfortable with the sincerity. You know Steve is being genuine, but the foreignness of revealing yourself is still unsettling.

Not wanting to lose this vulnerability yet, Steve risks looking at you. “Dustin told me about him, you know. Your dad, I mean. He told me what he did. And I-I’m really sorry, Y/N. I am. Your family didn’t deserve that.”

You’re quiet. 

“I understand, now.” Steve doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Not again, not like he always seems to do. “I-I had this dream, you know, that I’d have this really big family. I’m talking, like, a full brood of Harringtons. Like, five or six kids.”

Even though you laugh a bit, his confession stings. You know exactly why Steve has always envisioned a big family for himself. His home was never really a home. His family was never really a family. 

You’ve only ever met Richard Harrington once, and you will always remember how cold his eyes were. 

“And what would you do with these six kids of yours?” You entertain Steve’s dream because you love him. Because you know that no one else will.

Steve blushes slightly, although relieved that you’re at least responding to him again. “I figured every summer, all of us Harringtons would pack into something like this and just see the country. You know, the Rockies, Grand Canyon… maybe even the Shenandoah valley in Virginia.” 

It’s your turn to blush. Steve wants to take his kids to where you grew up. “That sounds really nice, honey.”

Steve looks at you hopefully, adoration in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you know your eyes reveal your fondness for him, too. “Although six kids might be too much. I think three is all I’d agree to.”

Steve catches your slip before you do. He watches, bashful and giddy, as you realize what you’ve said. How you unconsciously told him your kids would be his kids. While you blush furiously at the implications, Steve’s heart flutters. 

So you do see a future with him. A family. 

Seeing Steve’s bashful smile, all your embarrassment fades away. He loves you, pure and unabashedly. All he wants is his future to have you, and you finally understand that you have a safe place to land. Steve will always be there to catch you. 

“You’ll be a good dad, honey.” He isn’t like your father. Steve doesn’t know how to abandon someone. It isn’t in his blood.

Steve ducks his head, smiling even wider. He thanks you softly, eyes flicking between you and the road. The strings that were twisted between you straighten. The knots come undone. Smiling at him again, you feel someone’s eyes on you.

When you turn around, you find Nancy quickly looking away. She pretends that she hadn’t been watching you and Steve, though she does a terrible job at it. Sighing, you kiss Steve’s forehead.

“I’ll be back.”

He tries to ask you where you’re going, but you’re out of your seat before he can finish his question. 

You sit next to Nancy, shoulder bumping against hers as you do so. She doesn’t look up at you, too busy pretending to be engrossed in Eddie’s War Zone flier. Her eyebrows are knit together and you know she’s anxious about it all.

Gently nudging her, you prompt Nancy to look at you. When she reluctantly does, you ask the question that’s been burning your tongue all morning. “How much of my vision did you see?”

“I-I’m so sorry.” Nancy breaks immediately. Unable to look at you, she turns her head and closes her eyes. “He… he showed me Steve. He made me listen to your cries as he and I–” Her voice cracks, nausea builds. “I heard what he told you.”

Your face burn in embarrassment. While you appreciate her honesty, you hate that Nancy saw you in your most vulnerable state. You hate that she had to see that your deepest, innermost insecurity is her. 

“It was real, wasn’t it?” Nancy hesitantly asks. Her lips are chapped and her voice is rough from disuse and uncertainty. “You really do think that Steve will never forget me.”

She knows she shouldn’t be asking you any of this. She knows that too much was shown to her, more than you’ve ever shown to anyone. Nancy doesn’t know what she would do if she were you. To have your deepest fears shown to someone without consent. Without any warning. 

You roll Nancy’s question around in your head. You aren’t surprised that she’s asked it; she’s never shied away from the questions that keep everyone else up at night. Absentmindedly your eyes roam Steve’s body. His shoulders are relaxed as he drives. He knows you’ll return to him when you’re done. 

It is a certainty for him, one only love can provide.

“I know he loves me.” You say slowly, carefully. Looking up at Steve again, your eyes soften slightly. “But I think sometimes I get scared of the hold you have over him.”

Nancy starts to laugh, loud and without any humor. Your eyes widen at her, hurt blooming within your chest. “What’s so funny, Wheeler?”

“Nothing!” She grabs your hand, laughter dying quickly. “God, I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just-it’s ironic, isn’t it? I mean, I have the same fear with you and Jonathan. The hold you seem to have over him.”

Your thumb strokes the back of her hand. In a way, you suppose it all really is ironic. 

Risking it all, your head drops down to Nancy’s shoulder. She allows you to rest it there as you both stare out the window in front of you. “We were their first loves.” Watching the trees pass by, it’s all so very bittersweet. “Do you ever think about that?”

You were Jonathan’s first love. Nancy was Steve’s. 

Nancy hums softly, recognizing the irony as well. The two of you have always felt lesser than the other, yet the boys you love are so blindly devoted to you. Nancy remembers last summer and her cruel words of insecurity. 

“I’m sorry we wasted so much time.” Nancy whispers, and you don’t need to ask her what she means. You know she’s referring to the July phone call. 

“Lost time can always be made up.”

Nancy squeezes your hand. The two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, mending the fragments that were shattered a while ago. The mending isn’t perfect. Some pieces have been lost forever, but the image it creates is the same; it’s still love.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but I’ve never seen Steve so in love.” 

You pick your head up and smile at her, appreciative of the sentiment. “Jonathan is the same, you know. He loves you so much, Nancy. Even if he struggles to show it.”

Nancy doesn’t believe you. You can see it in the way her eyes suddenly darken. The wrinkle in her forehead. She doesn’t believe that Jonathan loves her anymore, and the thought makes you ache. 

“I know he’s been distant lately. He’s been distant with me, too.” The admission is difficult only because you don’t want Nancy to think you’re being cruel. She deserves to know everything. “He’s lonely in California. He misses you more than I think he’s even able to process.”

Slowly, Nancy nods at you to continue; you haven’t scared her away yet. “Jonathan will never admit when he’s hurting, it’s infuriating and admirable all at the same time. But he… he gets lost, sometimes. Jonathan loves you so much that he’s afraid he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand that sometimes love is selfish.” 

Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?

But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.

Jonathan hadn’t been confessing his feelings for you. It’s only now that you realize this. He’d just been scared, weak. Weak from hiding his fears, his uncertainty for his future and the weight of his family on his shoulders. 

All his life Jonathan has only ever known instability. He was never able to adjust to Nancy’s foundations. It was only when he was finally starting to trust the stability that their fighting began, and Jonathan hid. It was instinctive.

“Jonathan, he called me the other night.” You say, causing Nancy to stiffen slightly. You squeeze her hand again, silently urging her to listen before she says anything else. “It was before the world was ending, obviously, and he… he asked me if I ever thought we made a mistake. Me and him.”

“A mistake?” Nancy shakes her head. 

“Steve and I had a fight earlier that day, and you and Jonathan were having problems, so he just… he was afraid that if we made a mistake choosing you and Steve, then it would mean we made things harder for you, too.” 

The wrinkle in Nancy’s forehead lessens, but only by a fragment. She’s listening, she’s trying to follow along, but she’s been so hurt for so long that it’s difficult for her to distinguish fact from fiction. 

“Loving you has always been easy for him to do, so he got scared when the ease fell away.” Your eyes never leave Nancy’s. “Jonathan didn’t understand that love can be just as hard as it is soft. You can’t have one without the other.”

Nancy is quiet for several long moments. She sits with your words, allows herself to think through them. To trust where they came from and know that they’re meant to help, not hurt. Eventually, Nancy exhales after months of holding her breath. 

“‘Love can be just as hard as it is soft’.” Nancy laughs, short but genuine. “I like that.”

A laugh echoes from your own chest. “Thanks, Wheeler. Came up with it myself.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you.” She ducks her head, suddenly shy. “Thank you. For everything.”

You squeeze her hand one last time. Recognizing her thanks as a polite dismissal, wanting to be alone right now, you kiss the back of her hand before rejoining Steve up front. 

Steve catches your hand before you can sit in the passenger seat. He kisses it, the same as you did with Nancy’s. “What did you two talk about?”

Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you catch Nancy’s eye in the rearview mirror. She winks, secretive and teasing, and you wink back at her. Sitting down, you prop your feet back up on the dashboard. 

“We were just catching up.”

– 

By the time Steve pulls into War Zone’s parking lot, it’s packed with cars. There are way more people than expected, concerned families running around with guns they don’t know how to use.

“I guess a grenade sale draws in a big crowd.” You whistle low, eyes following a dad and daughter bickering over a baseball bat. 

Steve parks the RV and turns around in his seat. “Alright, dipshits. What’s the plan?” Robin rolls her eyes. “Don’t call us dipshits, dipshit.” 

“Obviously Eddie stays in the RV. He’s Indiana’s most wanted at this point.” Eddie tips an imaginary hat at you. “Dustin and Lucas, you guys should stay, too.”

Your brother makes a disgruntled sound. “What do you mean I’m staying?”

“You’re both in Hellfire and a lot of people with guns want the club gone. I’m not letting either of you step foot in there.”

Lucas sags in his seat, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right. Dustin, however, continues to argue. “Did you forget that I almost watched you die ten hours ago? I’m not leaving you.”

Annoyance softening, you tug at Dustin’s hat playfully. “Don’t worry about me. We grew up with hicks, I know how to fend them off.”

“Plus we’ll be glued to her side, little Henderson.” Robin points at Steve, who nods quickly. “We got her.”

It takes some more arguing and a bribe from Eddie before Dustin eventually calms down. You leave him with Lucas, trusting they’ll be fine on their own. Steve holds his hand out and helps you walk down the RV’s steps and into the store.

Inside, a swarm of people are running around. The entire point of driving all the way to the War Zone was to avoid Hawkins, and yet here everyone is: stocking up on pistols and mace.

“Let’s… be fast.” Nancy eyes everyone wearily, and none of you hesitate to agree.

Splitting up, you, Steve, and Robin head towards the gasoline section. You’d suggested it during the drive here. Fire has always been the most reliable weapon against the Upside Down. 

Eyes scanning the gasoline aisle, you make a mental list of what else you may need. “Okay, I think we should get at least six of these–”

Steve must see something in another aisle, because he whips around and screams behind his shoulder, “Be right back!” 

Robin frowns. “He has the attention span of a dog.”

“Don’t say that,” you toss another can of gasoline into your cart. “It’s offensive to dogs.”

Giggling, Robin helps you. Loading the cart to the brim, you almost miss Steve’s sudden return. “What do you think, angel?”

Looking up, you almost drop the can you’re holding. In the midst of weapons and ammo within the store, Steve has somehow managed to find a nice, brown army jacket. The material is thick, covered in patches, and the brown looks criminally good on your boyfriend. While you’ll miss his arms being on constant display, you almost don’t want him to ever take the jacket off again.

Seeing your speechless reaction, Steve smirks at you. “I take it you approve?”

“Mhm,” your mouth is dry. 

“Good, because I also found this.” Steve reveals another brown army jacket behind him, only this one is smaller. More your size. Not even waiting for your approval, Steve drapes the material over your shoulders. “And now we match.”

“You’re disgusting,” you grumble, though you both know your heart isn’t in it. The apples of your cheeks burn a cherry red. Taking Robin’s flannel off, you return it to her. “A part of me thinks Steve wants me to wear the army jacket because he doesn’t like seeing me in your clothes.”

Steve shrugs. “Half true.”

“Has anyone ever told you how gross you two are?” Robin gags. “I mean, really, it’s sickening how annoying you…”

Her voice trails off. Mid insult. Something she has never done before in the two years you’ve known her. Confused, you look up and notice her lovestruck expression as she stares at something. Following her line of sight, you almost laugh when you find the familiar red curls standing across from you.

“What are you gonna do? Stand and gawk?” Steve teases Robin, amused by the series of events.

You elbow his side. “Be nice. All you did was gawk at me for months.”

“Both of you, shut up.” Robin commands, voice breathy. Her eyes never leave Vickie and she takes a step forward, finally having the courage to approach her, before some guy comes up behind Vickie and scares her.

Vickie yelps, turning around to tell the boy off, but instead he takes her into his arms. The guy is tall, lanky but sure. He stares down at Vickie like she’s some prize and your stomach twists into knots. 

When their lips connect, you can almost feel Robin’s heartbreak. Her face drops and the light in her eyes is extinguished. Vickie turns, face paling when she sees Robin, and the entire ordeal is too much for her to handle. 

Robin’s shoulder knocks roughly against yours as she flees. You call after her, wanting desperately to follow. You know how cruel unrequited love can be. “Robin, wait!”

But Steve stops you, gently pulling you back. “Give her some space.”

As much as you want to argue, snatch your arm back and run after your heartbroken friend, you know that Steve is right. Robin has always preferred seclusion to public displays. She’s never wanted anyone’s pity. When she’s ready, she’ll find you and Steve and you’ll give her all the sun’s rays to melt the ice of rejection.

Steve helps you look for whatever else you’ll need. You roam the aisles, both silent and worried for your friend. At one point you end up in the knives section. When you turn your head to ask Steve his opinion on a silver hilt you find, the question dies in your throat.

Nancy is across the store, holding a rifle while Jason Carver stalks closer and closer to her.

“He’s like a goddamn plague,” you sneer to yourself. Quickly catching Steve’s attention, you motion over to the two teens. “We got a problem.”

Steve curses, also exasperated seeing Jason, but when he tries to walk towards them you stop him. Shaking your head, you block his path. “I love you, but if you go over there right now you’ll make everything worse.”

“That’s not true!”

“Steve.”

He falters. “Okay, well. What do you want me to do?”

“Go find Erica and the others and tell them we’re leaving. Clearly we’ve overstayed our welcome here.” Smoothing down your new leather jacket, you fix your hair and adjust your shoes. “As for me, I’m really hoping Jason still has that crush on me from last summer.”

Steve gawks at you, but you shove him towards the exit and beckon him to do as you say. Jason has only gotten closer to Nancy during your conversation. He leers over her, gripping the rifle with possession. 

Trying to keep your steps slow, casual, you analyze their body movements as you approach. Jason smirks at Nancy, as if he knows all her secrets. “Well, you look nervous.”

Nancy swallows. “Like I said. Scary times.”

Jason doesn’t like her answer. “Now, your brother. Is he here with you, by chance?”

Hearing him mention Mike, your heartbeat races as you practically sprint towards Nancy. Your appearance is abrupt, you’re breathless from exhilaration, and when your body slams against Jason’s, you feign sympathy. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Body turned towards Nancy, you nod at her once, reassuring, before forcing a smile on your face and spinning back around to Jason. “Long time no see, Carver.”

“Y/N.” He doesn’t return your smile. 

Tension thick, you pretend not to notice it. “Sorry for interrupting, but I found the bat Nancy was looking for earlier and was dying to show her.” Tilting your head at her, you indicate towards the exit with your eyes. “Wanna check it out?”

She nods, understanding the hidden meaning behind your words. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Not so fast.” Jason still hasn’t let go of Nancy’s barrel. He tugs it back, forcing you and her to freeze. “I asked Wheeler here a question. Have you seen Mike?”

“No.” Nancy doesn’t flinch away. “He isn’t here.”

Jason then looks at you. There is no warmth in his gaze. “And your brother, he’s in that Hellfire club too, isn’t he? Have you seen him around?”

“I’m not my brother’s keeper.” You keep your voice cold, neutral. Jason is trying to get a reaction from you. He wants you to be scared of him. But you’ve dealt with worse men than him. Wrapping your hand around his arm, you dig your nails into his flesh. “You understand, right?”

Jason’s mouth twitches. His composure is quickly slipping and Nancy uses the slip against him, Tightening her grip on the gun, she pulls it against her chest. “Let go.”

His hand remains. They maintain eye contact, neither looking away. Your nails dig even deeper, the skin beneath them breaks. Hot blood seeps into your nailbeds and Jason finally lets go. 

He rubs the crescent indents in his skin, chuckling darkly at you. “Quite a grip you got there.”

“I tend not to let things go.” A sickly sweet smile crawls onto your face. 

Jason smiles back at you, holding your gaze for another few seconds, before finally walking away. He doesn’t say anything else. The moment he’s gone, you lace your fingers through Nancy’s and run through the store to find Steve and the others.

“That was close.” You duck behind a cart, nearly running into one of Jason’s goonies.

“Too close.” Nancy finds Robin, pointing towards her as she looks for an opening to run. “Think you’ll be able to run?”

“Not really much of a choice, is there?”

And you run. Weaving through what feels like the entirety of Hawkins, you and Nancy manage to break through the store’s exit with Steve, Robin, Max, and Erica in tow. Bursting through the RV’s door, it’s a mess of bodies flailing into seats and screams.

“We need to leave. Now!” You shout at Dustin and the others, having no other time to explain further. “Everyone find a seat and stay low.”

Dustin screeches at Steve to drive while everyone scrambles to do as you’ve said. Hands shaking as you buckle your seatbelt, Steve only has enough time to shout “get ready!” before he’s starting the engine.

The War Zone sign fades into the distance. 

– 

The further you drive, the thicker the air in the RV becomes. Unease creeps over the seats, onto your skin. Nancy sits with all the bags around her as she and Robin sort through them. Dustin watches them, knee bouncing up and down.

Nancy talks first. Slowly, piece by piece, her and Dustin come up with a plan. 

“We’ll need to split into groups.”

“But how many? And where would everyone go?”

Nancy pauses for a moment. “One group in the Upside Down and one group at the Creel house. That should be enough, right?”

You raise your hand as if you’re in school. “If I may, I’d like to remind the class about the bats. We aren’t getting anywhere if they’re eating us alive.”

“She’s got a point.” Dustin says. 

Nancy sighs, but she doesn’t have an answer. 

“What if we had another group in dimension hell?” Eddie suggests. “Ya know, distract the little fuckers while the main group goes and be heroes.” 

“I don’t know,” you shift in your seat. You’re already risking a lot having a few of you go back into the Upside Down. The thought of risking even more lives makes your skin crawl. “Ideally, the less of us in the Upside Down, the better.”

Steve nods. “I’m with Y/N on this one. We don’t all need to go down there. It’s creepy and freakishly cold.”

“It’s our only option. Whoever goes there to kill Vecna will need all the help they can get.” Max says. “If the bats get to them first, then it’s pointless.”

Lucas nods, agreeing with Max, and Dustin has to nod as well. She’s right. There needs to be a third group if there’s any hope of pulling this off. 

Nancy, seeing the growing agreement between everyone, nods. “Alright. Then it’s settled. There’ll be three groups. Me, Y/N, Steve, and Robin will go to the Upside Down and track down Vecna.”

She waits a moment, giving time for anyone to protest. When no one does, she continues. “Y/N will have her walkman, but she won’t use it unless absolutely necessary. If Vecna chooses her, Steve will watch her while Robin and I go into the attic.”

“I’ll be the best goddamn bodyguard there ever was.” Steve jokes, trying to laugh away the discomfort of knowing your life will be on the line of luck. Knowing what he’s doing, you kiss his hand softly.

“If you fuck up and get my sister killed, I know how to procure acid.” Dustin forces Steve to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. The older teen gulps.

Touched, you preen at Dustin. “That’s the nicest threat anyone has ever said for me.”

It gets him to laugh, which you’re thankful for. Nancy cracks a smile as well, but it dims when she remembers where she is. Where you all are. 

“Max, Erica, and Lucas will be at the Creel house. They’ll have her walkman as well. If Vecna chooses her, Lucas needs to be ready.”

The teen slowly nods at Nancy. He hunches his shoulders, places the weight of Max’s life upon him. You’re not entirely comfortable with leaving the kids alone at the house, but it’s the safest location. You’d rather they be in Hawkins than the Upside Down.

You’ll give Max your knives. You’ll show her how to use them and you’ll pray that she never has to. They’ll be fine.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. The mantra that is keeping you sane. 

“Eddie, would you be alright with distracting the bats?” Nancy turns to him, the question posed more as a silent challenge. It was his suggestion; now he has to be willing to lay his life down for it. 

Eddie pales at the question. “I-I mean I guess? Like, would I be-I don’t know, screaming at them? Or-or running around like an idiot, or–”

“I’ll go with him.” Dustin interrupts, saving Eddie from a nervous breakdown. 

Your head spins around the second you hear his voice, cold with fear. “No–”

But Dustin expected this reaction. He meets your fear with a leveled response. “Y/N, this is the only way.”

“I won’t let you go into the Upside Down!” Screaming, voice raw, panic sets in. This is all wrong. Everything is wrong. You could die tonight, Max and Lucas and Erica will be defenseless in a house that you can’t reach, and now your brother wants to go to the place that almost killed you?

It’s too much.

“And I won’t leave Eddie behind!” Dustin screams back at you. “He needs me, and if it means the bats won’t try to kill you again, then I’m doing it.”

“But–”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Y/N. We kinda need them.” Robin tries to placate you, but you’re seeing red and you can’t breathe.

Eddie manages to catch your eye. He lowers his voice, the most sincere he’s ever been. “I promise I’ll protect Dustin with my life. Alright? I won’t let the shithead die.”

Only it’s the wrong thing to say. Your ears are ringing and your chest feels like it’s about to explode. Anger and fear and despair all claw at your throat, begging to be released. 

“Do you really think I can’t protect my own brother?” You hiss at Eddie, teeth clenched and face burning. The words tumble from your mouth before you can even really stop them. You’re blinded by anger, by the overwhelming feeling that you’ll lose. 

You can’t protect everyone on your own. Not this time, not like you’ve always done. Your entire life you’ve given everything within you to protect the ones you love. Pieces of yourself have been broken, bruised, exhausted from it; but it’s all you know. 

You’ve never been good at asking for help. Never trusted anyone enough to love and care for your family with the ferocity that you do. 

But now, faced with something much bigger than yourself, your greatest fear has come true. You have to let go. You have to trust that someone else will be there for your loved ones when you can’t. There’s nothing else you can do.

And it’s fucking terrifying. 

Eddie clears his throat in response to your sudden outburst. The RV falls silent. Eyes stare at you and you turn away in shame, facing the windshield with tears in your eyes. Steve can’t keep his eyes on the road knowing you’re upset.

Eventually there’s a field and Nancy tells Steve to park. With nowhere else to go, the open field will be your basecamp. There are weapons to be made, final moments to be shared. 

No one wastes any time getting out. The RV empties quickly until it’s only you, Dustin, and Steve who remain. Your brother clears his throat awkwardly, standing before you with his arms tucked behind him. 

“Code blue?”

Strings twinge in your chest, but laughter floods anyways. “Yeah,” you wipe your eyes, already crying. “I think we’re due for one.”

You get up from the passenger seat, giving Steve a quick but reassuring glance. He understands without having to be told that you need to be alone with your brother. Giving you some privacy, he turns away while you and Dustin head towards the back. 

Sitting down, Dustin immediately falls against you. You butt heads, playfully and childishly, and you want to cherish these small moments with your brother forever. 

“Please don’t be like dad.” Dustin whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. 

Your throat closes. “Dustin…”

“You can’t leave me. Not like he did. You can’t-you can’t do that to me and mom.” There are tears in his eyes. 

The mention of your mother makes you cry as well. You miss her, you haven’t seen her in days and all you want is to have her hold you one last time. To hear her call you her sweet girl again. To etch her love for you into your skin. 

“I won’t leave you,” your fingers grip Dustin’s arms. Your body shakes, so does his. “I-I won’t. I love you, okay? More than anything in this world. I’m your sister, and I know I haven’t been a very good one recently and I know that I can’t promise that everything will be okay, but–”

“All I want from you is for you to come home.” Dustin rasps. His eyes shine and he sniffs, shaking his head fondly, albeit annoyed. “God, that’s all you have to do. Don’t be like him, don’t leave the house empty. That’s all I want from you, Y/N.”

Brushing his hair back, the promise you make doesn’t burn how you expect it to. “I’ll come home.”

“Good.” Dustin throws himself into you, arms gripping you tightly. His hair tickles your nose and his hat almost pokes your eye out, but you hold onto him anyways. 

“Yo, Henderson!” Eddie’s voice calls from outside. There’s a bang on the RV door, followed by a quiet curse for presumably injuring a hand. “Come help me with these trash lids. The nails are bitches!”

“Trash lids?” You ask Dustin.

He shrugs. “Weapon against the bats. Could be worse.”

You snort, pushing the kid away. “Go help Munson. With his luck, he’ll lose an eye wielding a hammer.” 

Dustin also laughs and allows your body to leave. He stands up, lingers in the doorway, before smiling one last time at you. Your promise to him melts into his skin. He’s chosen to believe you; you have to choose to believe yourself as well.

When he’s gone, the silence in the RV almost drowns you. There’s a dull roar in your head. Conversations echo. Nancy’s confessions and Dustin’s terror. Max’s sacrifice. How long it’s been since you’ve been alone.

Your head drops to your hands. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to salvage what little of your sanity is left. 

A body lands next to you. The smell of bergamot and spice is like a salve to your open wounds. Hands grab your body, pull you flush against a chest. Without having to look, you know Steve is the one holding you.

He lays you down onto the couch and you curl into him instinctively. You use his body to shield you away from the world, feeling like a little kid again. Your bones ache. Steve rubs your flesh as if to dispel the pain that is always there. 

“I know you want to be alone right now,” his chest vibrates against your cheek as he speaks. “But can I just say that I hate this plan?”

His honesty is refreshing, candid and desperately needed. It causes the corners of your mouth to tug upwards, ever so slightly. The ache lessens, the echoes aren’t as deafening. 

Pressing your nose against the base of Steve’s neck, you allow yourself to be weak in this moment. To be soft, vulnerable, trusting that he’ll catch you. “I don’t want to die.”

Steve kisses your forehead, lips warming the cold skin underneath. “I know.” His finger strokes your cheek. He memorizes the lines and dots that litter your face. Old scars, new ones that will never really go away. “It’s a good thing I won’t let you.”

You smile again. No one can promise anything anymore. Yesterday you almost died, today you will use your life as bait, and tomorrow you might never see. Nothing is promised. Not anymore. 

Yet you believe Steve. 

“What did you see in your vision?”

The question is whispered and velvety. You haven’t talked about last night, but Steve knows whatever you saw is weighing on you. He can see the way you carry it on your shoulders, tired and aching. He noticed the tension between you and Nancy, the unyielding fear of letting your brother go. 

Your eyes meet. The brown honey in Steve’s eyes reminds you that he’s real. Here, in his arms, you’re safe. You could confess all your sins to him and Steve would kiss the impurity with holy lips and call you angel. 

Taking a deep breath, you tell him everything. 

“He took me to a field. I recognized that it was Virginia the moment my feet touched the grass. I could see my childhood home up the hill and there was someone calling my name.” Your father’s voice echoes in your ears. You can’t remember the last time he called. “It was my dad.”

Steve pulls you closer.

“I ran to him, even though I knew it wasn’t real, but–” you were a child when he left. The wound will never fade. “I had to see him. I just… I wanted to remember what it was like to be held by him.”

Warm. You remember the warmth.

“Then suddenly I was falling. I screamed, but-but no one could hear me. I was in the woods. The same woods Will disappeared in and I was so scared he had him. That it was all my fault again. I was the one who lost him again. I started to run. I-I had to find him… But he wasn’t there.”

How many times had Will called for you the night he disappeared?

“He’s safe in California, Y/N.” Steve reminds you, tucking hair out of your face. He wants to smooth the worry lines in your face, mold your skin into something calmer, happier. “It wasn’t real.”

“I know none of it was real, but the things Vecna showed me…” Unable to bear saying anything else, you give yourself a moment to breathe. Nothing had been real. But it had felt real. 

Steve frowns, sensing that there’s something else. “What else did he show you, angel?”

“You,” you breathe out, too weak to find any other way to say it. “He showed me you.”

Surprise mars his pretty face. “Me?”

“Nancy, too.” Wiping a tear, you fix Steve’s hair, needing something to distract yourself with. You don’t want to tell him any of this. Shame coats your body but the love in his eyes subdues it. “Vecna preys on your fears, your insecurities, and for me… He showed me you and Nancy together. Having sex.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. 

“He told me that you’d never forget her. Not as easily as my father forgot me, at least.” You laugh bitterly. “He has a sick sense of humor. I’ll give him that.” 

Still Steve remains silent. 

But for once, his silence doesn’t scare you. There’s a trust behind it. An understanding that he wants you to continue, to tell him everything. And you do. 

“I’m scared my guilt will suffocate me.” The confession falls from your lips as easily as a prayer does. “I’m scared of starting a life with someone that I can’t control. I’m scared that I’ll always be abandoned. That I’ll always be second to Nancy. Every boy I have loved has loved her. Who wouldn’t be terrified of that?”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, angel.” Steve cups your face. He doesn’t know what he feels right now. Anger, for both you and him. Agony that he can’t absolve you from the guilt, from the thought of him leaving you. “I love you. Only you.”

“I know you do,” you bring your hand to his face as well. He leans against your palm, gaze tragic and loyal. There is no doubt that he loves you. That has never been what you’ve doubted. 

It’s always been the how. 

How he came to love you. After Nancy. After she left him. After you picked up the pieces she left behind. The love that you know is yours is genuine, but you’ve always been terrified that the foundations of it are false. 

With Steve staring down at you as if you’ve hung the sun and moon for him, you ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind ever since he crashed into your life. 

“Would you have loved me even without Nancy? If we hadn’t fallen together because of her, would you still have fallen in love with me?”

The answer comes easily to Steve. “Always.”

And it’s everything you need from him. One word, but it’s enough. 

Your fist grips his shirt. A tug, no time to prepare, and your lips crash together. There is nothing soft. The kiss is bruising and it is rough and hard and urgent. Everything left unsaid between you and Steve rises to your lips and melts into your tongues. For every broken promise, there is a bite of skin, a lick of flesh. For every hurt you brought upon the other, there is a soft moan of an apology.

Heat pours from your teeth and into Steve’s lungs. Your breaths become one, your heartbeats overlap and he is everywhere. He is an explosion of light festering on your skin. 

“I see more than just a future with you,” Steve whispers against your lips, hushed and aching. It takes everything within him to pull away for even a second. He kisses you again. Over and over until he’s memorized every crevice of your lips, the cracks on them. “I see my entire life with you.”

Steve breathes you in, hands cradling your face as if to steady the dizziness within him. He looks into your eyes, follows the flushed pink of your lips and your staccato breathing. He takes you in and hopes he never has to forget the way you look when you are in love. 

“I would wait forever,” lips skim the length of your face. Feather light kisses trace your nose, flutter against your eyelids. Inhaling sharply, Steve rests his forehead against yours. He stays there. He will never leave. “I would wait forever if it meant I could start forever with you.”

This is love. This is what can never be taken from me.

“Hey! Lip smackers!” Robin bangs through the RV door, scaring the shit out of you and Steve and causing you to spring apart. She smirks at your reaction, though she tries to cover it with a scoff. She crosses her arms. “Are you assholes gonna help us, or are you too busy swapping spit?”

Steve’s face turns fire red. “Do you always have to be so vulgar?”

“It’s why people find me so charming. Right, Y/N?”

“As long as the nickname ‘lip smackers’ doesn’t stick, I’ll agree with whatever.” You say, getting off the couch. 

Robin laughs. “I actually kinda like it. Has a nice ring to it, ya know?”

“No,” you and Steve say at the same time. Your “no” is more bored while Steve’s is more panicked. 

Rolling your eyes at his affronted reaction, you pat his cheek lovingly and press a quick kiss to it. “Nicknames aside, I should go. There’s one more person I need to talk to.”

Steve tilts his head at you, silently asking who, but you don’t respond. Instead, you turn to Robin. “Whatever you make him help you with, just promise me you won’t scar his pretty face. I have to look at it for the rest of my life.”

Robin grins, secretly relieved the two of you finally seem to be okay again. “No promises, pretty girl. He’s gonna help me make molotov cocktails and we all know his hair is a fire hazard.”

“Ha ha,” Steve laughs boredly. “Very funny.”

You giggle alongside Robin, leaving them to grab their needed supplies. The sunlight outside kisses your skin and in the distance you find Eddie chasing Dustin around. They wield their makeshift shields around, laughing like children.

The image of them before you leaves you breathless for a moment. Even when everything seems grim and hopeless, Eddie has still found a way to make your brother laugh.

They don’t see you approaching them. You have to sidestep Dustin, who nearly runs into you. “Woah!” You grab his shoulders, steadying him. Something pokes your thigh, and when you look down you realize it’s his nail filled trash lid. “God, you’re bound to poke someone’s eye out.”

“What are you doing here?” Dustin asks you, looking around for Steve.

“I came to ask if I could steal Eddie away from you for a second.” You respond, shrugging as if you’ve ever offered to interact with Eddie outside of Dustin. “I need to talk to him.”

Both boys widen their eyes. Eddie pales, while Dustin narrows his eyes at you. “The last time I let you talk to one of my friends, you ended up making him your boyfriend.”

Eddie blanches while you flick your brother’s forehead. “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want Eddie to be my boyfriend.”

Without another word, you grab Eddie by his jacket and yank him away. Dustin shouts at you that he’ll rat you out to Steve, but you don’t care. Eddie is a mumbling mess, unsure what you want with him and slightly terrified he’s done something wrong. 

When you’re far enough away from everyone else, you finally release him. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you look at Eddie. “I owe you an apology.”

“Oh.” He blinks. This definitely hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Can I ask what for?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know I kinda lost my mind earlier. You can say it.” You roll your eyes. “I won’t kill you.” 

“Says the girl who held a knife to my throat.”

“Water under the bridge.” Your fingers fidget. You know this is the right thing to do, but it still makes you uncomfortable. “Look, it was wrong of me to snap at you. I, uh. Get pretty defensive when it comes to accepting help.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, although his eyes flash with slight amusement. 

You clear your throat. “I guess I also struggle to accept when I’m no longer needed.”

“Bullshit.” Eddie laughs in your face. “The universe will always need Hawkin’s sweetheart. Don’t sound so pessimistic, sunshine.”

“You never shut up, do you?” You cut him off, glaring. Here you are, trying to be vulnerable with him, and he’s laughing at you. “Jesus. Anyways, what I’m trying to say is, I shockingly have found myself tolerating you.”

“Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel special.”

“I try,” you glance quickly at Eddie, smirking, and he smirks back. “For a long time, I didn’t understand what Dustin saw in you. You were a total jackass with a giant ego, but I guess these last few days have proven you’re only a tolerable jackass with a moderately oversized ego.”

A surprised laugh leaves Eddie’s lips. “Wow, you really aren’t holding back.”

“Figured we’re overdue for some honesty.” You hate being vulnerable, but Eddie deserves this. Swallowing down your nerves, you finally confess the real reason you’re here. “I’ve never had to place Dustin’s safety in someone else’s hands. I’ve always found a way to be there for him, even through years of constant hell and monsters. I’ve always… I’ve always been the one to protect him.”

Eddie’s laughter is gone.

“But tonight I can’t. Tonight, all I can do is make you promise me that you’ll keep my baby brother safe. I-” Your voice breaks, there are tears that you don’t want to fall. “I need you to promise me, Eddie.”

He sucks in a breath. The boyish humor he so often portrays is stoic. He’s serious, perhaps for the very first time since you’ve met him. 

The two of you stare at one another, both unwavering, before Eddie slowly, almost mischievously, extends his pinky to you. “I promise.”

Linking your pinky around his, your cheeks burn from the suppressed smile. 

– 

The sun is setting when everyone climbs back into the RV. No one speaks. There isn’t anything else to talk about, driving to the Creel house. 

The silence weighs heavily upon the car, setting alongside the sun. You sit in the passenger seat, holding your knives to your chest with your headphones dangling over your neck. There is still blood staining the bandage on your shoulder. The bites on your thigh aches. 

You’ve done all that you can. You keep repeating this to yourself, over and over again like a prayer.

You’ve prepared, you’ve planned, you’ve sacrificed. There isn’t anything else you can do. All that’s left is the end. 

Steve sits next to you, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. His forehead is creased and his shoulders are tense. The closer you get to the house, the more he draws into himself. 

When you finally get to the house, Erica, Lucas, and Max almost leave without saying anything else. While there are no more well wishes to give, no more luck to spare, you can’t bear the thought of leaving them without hearing their voices.

“Be careful,” you follow after them, exiting the RV as well. The three of them turn to you, bittersweet smiles on their faces. They knew you’d do this. 

“We will.” Lucas reassures you, refraining himself from reaching out. He knows that if he hugs you now, he may never let you go. Instead, he ducks his head at you. “We’ll see you later, alright?”

Blinking back tears, you nod back at him. The siblings walk away, leaving you alone with Max. A part of you wonders if they planned this. Stepping towards her, you try one last time to exchange her life for yours. 

“Can I at least ask you not to antagonize Vecna? If you try to persuade him to take you instead, I’m haunting your grave.” It’s a vile thing to say, a joke that you know you’ll come to regret, but it’s the only way you know to get Max to laugh one last time. 

Max does laugh, but she also doesn’t promise you anything. Instead, she exchanges her life for yours. “If he chooses you, remember to picture your good memories. Hide in them. Run to the light.” 

You nod, you’ve spoken briefly about her plan before. It makes sense, in a way. Instead of getting trapped in the bad memories Vecna shows you, you need to hide in the good. Except what Max says next hadn’t been discussed. 

“It’s what Billy tried to do with you. You were his light.” 

It catches you off guard, freezing your lungs. 

“His final words… they took me a while to understand. But I think I know now, and I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of it.” Max’s gaze softens. “You told Billy to find you, and that’s what he tried to do.”

But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?

Talking to you… sweetheart.

Like pieces of a puzzle, everything falls into place.

Unable to stop yourself, you throw your arms around Max. She tenses, and you almost release her with an apology, before she melts; she hugs you back. It’s been a long time since she’s done that.

“Billy was trying to find the light,” she whispers into your ear. “That’s how we’re going to survive.”

And you believe her.

-

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[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Mesmerized.

Pairing: Yandere!Lyney x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 0.8k.

TW: Hypnosis, Unhealthy Relationships, General Lose of Autonomy, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Stalking, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

“You’re getting crueler, brother.”

Lynette watched you stir at the sound of her voice, nearly identical to that of your dearly beloved, but you slackened as soon as you realized it was only his sister, melting back into place against Lyney’s side. Your expression was one of vacant bliss; all glassy eyes and careless smiles, worry only visible in the dark circles laced under your eyes, the pained creases folded into either corner of your mouth. A poor imitation, altogether. You looked more like yourself when you were angry.

Lyney hummed, resting his head on your shoulder. As if trained to, you cooed softly and raised a hand, carding your fingers through his hair as he spoke, self-satisfaction heavy in his voice. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Is it cruel to want to spend time with one’s dearly cherished?”

“Father said not to let the public see them until—”

“—until we’ve fallen in love,” Lyney finished. It was a clipped summary, to say the least. In reality, Lord Arlecchino’s order had played more closely to the tune of ‘until you’ve collared your pet properly’, but admittedly, Lynette might’ve missed something. She and Freminet had been listening from the other side of a steel door, and Lyney hadn’t been eager to discuss their conversation after her lecture ended. “And I’m sure, if you bothered to ask, you’d already know that we’re quite in love. Aren’t we, beautiful?”

“Quite in love,” you parroted. There was something strange about your inflection, as if you were trying to speak in a language you hadn’t yet mastered, but Lynette chose not to dwell on it.

“And I’d hardly call this the public,” Lyney went on, when Lynette made it clear that she had yet to be impressed. He made a quick, sweeping gesture to the rest of the backstage area – as if the technicians and stage-hands rushing between lighting rigs and half-assembled props were no more real than the silhouetted figures painted onto the set dressing they were hauling into place. “Think of it as… a trial run, to see how much we’ve improved. If everything goes well tonight, perhaps we’ll be able to attend Father’s next banquet together, too. I’ve been dying to introduce them to the rest of our family – preferably without all the screaming and biting, this time.”

That, Lynette could admit, would probably be for the best. She still had a bruise in the shape of your teeth on her left wrist from the day she’d met you, but Lyney still claimed it’d been one of your better first impressions.

“I’ve always wanted to see one of your shows.” You were cupping Lyney’s face, now, using your thumb to draw tender circles into his cheek. “I’ve always loved the opera. You’re playing the male lead, right?”

Lynette pursed her lips, her eyes widening slightly as she turned her attention pointedly towards her brother. He looked away. “I’m still working out the kinks. By this time next week, it should all be right as rain.”

Reluctantly, Lynette let her attention shift back to you. Your sleeves were long, dense with lace and tulle, but a patch of reddened, raw skin where the shackle had been wrapped around your wrist was just barely visible underneath the frivolous material. There was a slight tremble in your stiff shoulders, and when she looked closely, she could see that you were swaying; your legs weak from disuse, barely able to hold your own weight. Her brother, on the other hand – she could remember the last time she’d seen him smiling so widely. He been in a state of pure, untethered euphoria since the moment you were dragged, kicking and swearing, into one of the Fatui’s lesser-used underground holding facilities, and she rarely saw him without a glint in his eye and a light flush painted over her cheeks. It was almost upsetting, to see a face so much like her own so distorted. If she hadn’t been so used to his sudden flurries of passion, she might’ve been disturbed.

“It can’t last.” Lyney straightened, but she didn’t give him a chance to cut in. “The—the trance, I mean. You’re a magician, not a hypnotist. It’s going to wear off, eventually.”

“I’ve always hated stage magic,” you muttered, dreamily. “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I hate feeling like I’m the only person who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“It doesn’t need to last forever, just long enough.” This time, it was Lyney who caught your chin in his hand, pulling you just close enough for a quick, shallow kiss. Lynette looked away before she could be forced to endure yet another unabashed show of affection, but she could still hear him far too clearly when he spoke seconds later, his voice now nearly distant as your own.

“Until we both manage to forget how we could ever live apart.”

[grimrester]

i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.

i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.

anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:

"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."

employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.

of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.

this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.

"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."

no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.

and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.

a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.

(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)

a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.

did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.

"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."

i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.

look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.

and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.

they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?

bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.

schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.

they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.

really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.

and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

GN! Reader x Law

Law gets wasted and he's an affectionate mess

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was rare indeed, to see Law truly let loose.

Maybe it was the recent victory over Kaido that he’d been stressing for God knows how long, or maybe it was just the general good atmosphere of all their crews around them drinking happily and socializing that made him loosen up. Regardless, you were surprised for when the first time, Law was very drunk.

You had had a few drinks but were still clear headed enough, laying your head on Law’s shoulder as the others rejoiced around you. Law immediately grasped your hand under the table, fingers eagerly rubbing against yours and you were surprised at his openness. Law was usually very conservative about his affection, worrying about whether anyone saw, especially his own crew. In the rare instances they did witness a soft moment, Law had the habit of pulling his hat low over his red face and storming off before they could say anything. You couldn’t lie though, seeing Law a little more open and daring sent a warmth through you.

He rested his head atop yours on his shoulder, cuddling in close and you were aware of the catcalls that followed the action. You didn’t care, you were too lost feeling his strong body against you. It felt like it had been far too long since you two were able to cuddle and touch like this.

Penguin shouted forth, “Give them a kiss!”

And soon other members of the crew had joined the chant, and you felt your face heat up. You two were always conservative in front of others, but to your shock, Law grabbed your face in both hands and kissed you. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a smashing of lips together, but it was enough to make your face light up. You could hear the cheers in the background as you pulled back, a hand to your mouth as Law stared back at you with heavy lidded eyes.

He tried to press into your face again but your own awareness of the crew around you made you embarrassed and you quickly redirected him to rest against the crook of your neck. The others couldn’t see now but you were aware of the hot open-mouthed kisses and laving of tongue that Law was pressing against the skin of your neck and you put a hand to the back of his head to block any curious onlookers as your tried, unsuccessfully, to discreetly pry him off. His hands groped at your sides as his face pulled back to stare heavily at you.

“Let’s say we take this somewhere more private?” he purred against you. You were about to stand when Law pulled his hand up in a familiar gesture and blue light circled the room.

“Shambles”

You braced yourself, expecting to find yourself now in the captain’s quarters but when you opened your eyes nothing had changed, you were both still sitting amongst the party.

“Fuck!”

You saw Shachi sputtering with beer dripping down his naked head, apparently Law had switched his hat with someone’s drink.

The captain narrowed his eyes in focus, now realizing what he’d done, “Wait shit let me try that again.”

Another flash of blue and this time Bepo ended up on the table where a bowl of chips had previously been. His flailing had sent several glasses and food spilling across the table as the others voiced their displeasure at the poor bear.

“I’m sorry!” he managed to get himself back on the floor with the others, Ikkaku slapping his back and laughing.

Law stared at his hand now, as though looking at a faulty gadget, and readied his fingers again before you clapped your hands over his own to stop him from causing any more chaos.

“How about we just sit here okay baby?”

The pet name seemed to work as he dissolved into a silly smile, and you bit back a laugh at how adorable he looked. His face fell forward and planted against you in another messy smash of lips.

“Mmkay,” you could feel him mumble against your mouth. You pulled his head back, keeping it cradled in your hands, looking around to see if anyone had seen the second kiss, but most were still ribbing Bepo good naturedly for nearly breaking the table supplying him with beer all the while. You settled back in your seat, raising the drink to your lips and felt Law drop his head onto your shoulder. Giving his scalp an affectionate rub, you drank and talked with the others, regaling them with details of your fights as they supplied their own stories in return. All the while Law kept his head silently planted against you, and you could feel his eyes boring into you the entire time. Penguin finally snickered and nudged Shachi in the ribs.

“Look at captain.”

The two dissolved into giggles seeing Law staring puppy eyed up into your eyes, a hopeless grin on his face. You finally met his gaze and couldn’t suppress the smile that crawled up your lips.

“Law you’re staring at me.”

He hummed in response, nuzzling his cheek against you, eyes never leaving you, “You’re so pretty you know that?” he slurred.

His fingers came up to trace along your features, fumbling a bit at first before resting on your cheek, “Such perfect anatomical structure…”

You could hear Penguin and Shachi practically choke with laughter.

“Thank you…?” You couldn’t help smiling at the silliness of your boyfriend.

Law hummed, he lifted his head and took your face between his hands, gently squishing your cheeks, “How did I get such a beautiful partner?”

Penguin and Shachi were now in full throes of laughter. Your eyes shot from them back to Law, with a silly grin plastered on his face. Your hands clasped his gently to remove them from your cheeks, fighting the blush that was spreading across your face.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” you murmured.

Law held your gaze, eyes boring deep into yours until suddenly his head fell forward, planting right into your chest, hands wrapped around you tightly. It only took seconds until you heard soft snores coming from him.

You sighed, “Okay, I think it’s time for bed.”

Catcalls followed the comment as you slowly helped Law to his feet, his body leaning heavily against you all the while. Once you got him upright, his face dug into the crook of your neck, nuzzling the skin as his hands played across your waist. More catcalls followed at the captain’s actions and you felt yourself flush. You quickly got his arm around your shoulder, letting him lean against you as you walked him back to his private quarters. After nearly stumbling through the hallway you managed to get inside the room with Law in one piece. You let go of his body, left him standing for a moment as you started pulling back the sheets and covers of the bed.

“Okay Law, come here,” you slapped the mattress.

Law apparently took this to mean something else entirely, his eyes darkening with a sly smile across his face as he staggered forward. He nearly tripped over himself but you caught him in your arms as he straightened out.

“You come here,” he growled in what he must have thought was a seductive tone closing the distance between you. His hands explored up and down your sides as his lips met yours once more, pressing firmly. Law was leaning with most of his weight against you and you quickly maneuvered the two of you toward the bed, thumping onto the mattress with an audible creak. Law quickly crawled up into your lap, hands planting on either side of your head as he reconnected lips, tongue quickly working its way into your mouth. You were wide eyed for a moment, but fell easily into the kiss, sloppy as it was, your own hands trailing up and down his back.

Breaking from the kiss, Law’s flushed face practically rubbing against your own he murmured in a slur, “God you don’t even know how sexy you are…” His face dug into the crook of your neck, placing wet suckling kisses against your skin, “I just think about you all the time…”

You smiled, guiding Laws head back up to face you, a wonderfully content smile on his face as you placed a peck against his lips.

“You’re awfully affectionate when you’re drunk.”

His sappy grin widened, “I can’t help myself around you.”

Suddenly Law flopped onto the bed, turning to rest on his back as he reached his arms out for you to join. You sighed, pulling off your shoes and Law’s own before nestling against him. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face against your hair as you settled together with a contented sigh.

“You know you’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow,” you teased, and at the silence that followed you asked, “Law?”

You raised her head only to see him already snoring away and chuckled. Resting your head back against his slowly rising chest you closed your eyes to sleep.

“Sweet dreams Law.”

[cordidy]

A few days ago I wrote this

https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/769603546439172096/just-needed-to-get-this-out-of-my-head-after?

just because it was in my brain and I'm sooooo happy people liked it.

Here is the part two as demanded. I'm proud with how it came out and I hope you will love reading it as much as I loved writting it 😊

SPOILER for Sylus's Myth

TW : Alcohol, "lady of the night", sadness,

English is not my mother tongue BUT this time it was proofread by @thedeadstoryteller1 whom I love sooooo much for that.

“...Flowers bloom as far as the eye can see…”

“What did you say ?” You groaned, the familiar voice still in your ears as you opened an eye lazily, expecting an answer that never came.

Waking up felt like dying.

Spinning head, dizziness, whole body aching, clearly mistakes were made and atonement was due but God it still hurt.

Slowly opening your eyes as you tried to avoid the blinding light of the sun pouring into your room, you tried to recollect the events of last night…not very efficiently.

A quick look around.

You were alone in your room, not in a drunk tank and fully dressed indicating you did not do nor bring a mistake back home with you, thanks to your bodyguard.

Speaking of bodyguard, you found him in your kitchen, over the stove making ...pancakes ?

“So I did bring an ass…” you started in a tired and raspy voice as you made your way towards the counter before Sylus quickly gestured to his ear.

“I think I’ve been more than generous in my payment planning…”he said calmly while flipping a pancake in the pan as you grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol before taking a seat, focusing your attention on him.

There was always something intrinsically fascinating when it came to him working. Most of the time you saw two types of Sylus, the asshole trying to get a rise out of you for his own entertainment (kind of cute honestly) or the combatant who would obliterate his enemies while using his Evol to throw things at you when fighting to “keep you on your toes” and because it was “fun”.

Seeing him do things as serious as negotiating a deal or doing his accounting reminded you he was not just a pain in your arse but also a very functioning person.

“Kieran, how many fingers does Mister Vaulric need to play the piano ?” He casually asked on the phone, making you choke on the water you were drinking.

Alright, a psychotic functioning adult…

Silence

He did not turn around when you threw a dishcloth at him, only lowering his head with a sigh.

“You have 1 more week. Increased loan interests, Kieran will handle the details” he finally said, setting the pancakes in a plate before putting them in front of you with a jar of jam, completely ignoring you and your gleaming eyes “Oh and I suggest you don’t leave the N109 Zone for now, we can’t guarantee your…safety…outside of it” he added before he ended the call and took a seat in front of you.

“Did you just threaten a guy in my kitchen ?” you asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the frown on your face. Yes you were friends with a criminal but you were still a law abiding citizen…

Besides, threats made with a lace apron sounded….weird.

“I don’t make threats , only warnings. Eat your pancakes” he retorted, casually sitting in front of you.

“I didn't expect to see you here ” you said while eating.

“Someone had to make sure you were alive after all the alcohol you drank last night”

Whoa, that was cold. You looked at him, uncomfortable.

“No I mean in the kitchen, knowing you, I half expected to wake up to you in my bed” you chuckled trying a bit of humor. Of course you trusted him, knowing he would never attempt anything if you could not or would not consent but…well, no harm in some banter right ?

The joke felt flat though as he remained silent.

“Sooooo no snarky comment about the way I look today with my hangover ? No making fun of me for my poor choices in life ? ” you asked him, trying to break the ice with a bit of teasing. Surely he wasn’t mad at you, was he ?

“Does your head hurt ?” he asked, still not looking at you, texting.

“Yeah ?” you answered your mouth full.

“Do you feel like an idiot for getting so shitfaced you don’t remember anything from last night ?”

You remained silent. 

Last night…clearly something happened last night.

Something bad judging by his attitude towards you. What...what did you do to deserve the cold shoulder from him of all people ? 

You were too slow to respond though as he was already getting up.

“Then the Universe already took care of it on my behalf” he simply said while putting his phone back in his pocket, clearly avoiding eye contact as he grabbed his jacket. “Drink water and take a nap” he added before leaving your apartment without even a goodbye.

Something was wrong.

“Hey, you did not really cut this guy's finger right ?” 

Clearly something was wrong between the two of you and it was starting to bug you.

“Everything alright ? No news for 2 weeks is soooo suss coming from you. Even your pigeon from Hell is not around“

That was the only explanation you had to the fact that Sylus had literally vanished from your life since that morning a month ago.

“Sylus, seriously I'm worried, you ok ?”

Then there was the issue of Luke and Kieran. 

1 month

1 FUCKING month without a call, without a text, without even a reaction on your Moments and the worst part ? It hurt !

At first you had figured he probably was busy with that Vaulric dude he had been talking to at your place and that’s why he did not answer your messages but a whole month just to deal with a loan gone late ?

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but you….you’re not yourself lately…” Xavier said, leaving his boxing stance after you tripped while attacking him, barely avoiding falling face first on the ground thanks to your partner's quick reaction.

When you had not been able to reach Sylus, you turned to the twins for info, reassurance, a death certificate, anything to just know what was going on but still, nothing. You knew your messages were read by the pair so they had to be at least alive, but they remained unanswered.

This radio silence was starting to take a toll on you as reflected by your sleepless nights that turned you to a mess both physically and emotionally.

“I’m fine. Again !” you brushed off as the young man tried to get to the bottom of what was happening to you. While you had been the one insisting on sparring, hoping it would allow you to blow some steam off, you clearly were not at it and it was getting dangerous.

“No, I'm not fighting until you tell me what's happening !” 

You suppressed a frustrated growl.

Alright, if he wanted to be an easy target…

Next thing you knew, the easy target's fist met your nose as you tried a sneak attack and he reacted out of instinct, color draining from his face when he saw blood dripping from your nose.

“Fuck Y/n I'm sorry ! I…I didn't mean to !” 

This got you a week off duty and another scolding from your physician who had threatened to tie you up on a therapist's chair if you did not work on your current issues.

You didn’t need therapy, though, you needed answers and you were going to get them.

Kudos to Zayne for giving you the idea of tying Sylus up until he talked if need be.

Clearly you were not expected.

You didn’t know what to expect when you pushed Sylus’s office door open that night. Your nose was still puffy, wicks still in one of your nostrils, blood all over your shirt but you did not care what you looked like right now.

You wanted answers and he was going to give them to you, as soon as the stunning woman sitting on his desk, half naked, her long silver hair cascading her back, would be gone.

“I…”

There he was, sitting casually, his shirt half open, engrossed in conversation and your blood ran cold into your veins as the woman leaned towards Sylus to refill his glass with a giggle.

Based on his look, it was not the first…The sound of your voice got his attention though, and, for a split second, you saw shock in his eyes before the mask was up again.

Something you did not like.

“Oooooh, you invited a friend ? The more the merrier I guess but…I charge more for this kind of…fun…” the hooker cooed, playing with Sylus’s hair. “No offence sweety, women are just not my…first choice” she added, smiling at you.

Technically, he didn’t owe you anything. You were friends, nothing more, despite the constant flirting, the glances, the brushing of his hands…yet, seeing him with another woman stirred something inside of you. 

Maybe it was just the global exhaustion you were into but you felt a surge of…possessiveness towards him and you had to refrain yourself from jumping at the young woman in order to not claw her eyes out.

Seeing you hurt, Sylus, your Sylus anyway, would already be on you, checking your nose, getting the twins to bring you clean clothes while pestering you about the how ? When ? why ? and especially who’s teeth he needed to remove for doing that to you but all you got from the man in front of was a laconic “what happened to your nose ?” as he grabbed his glass, barely looking at you, focusing his attention on the young woman.

Part of you wanted to jump at him and hold him tight as you saw he was alive and well but at the same time you wanted to smash his head on the fucking mahogany desk for giving you the cold shoulder.

“What are you doing here ?”

“What I…” yeah, the head smashing was definitely an option as you walked towards him, trying to remain calm. “I came to see you since you decided to avoid me like the Plague lately” you said coldly.

“Leave us” he commanded the woman who didn't need to be told twice. 

She still seemed disappointed as she passed you before grabbing some cash on the coffee table, understanding the party was over. “Well, you saw me”

He remained silent and it made your blood boil with anger. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing for the past month ?” you asked, dumbfounded.

"As far as I can remember, what I do in my free time is none of your business” he pointed out in the same laconic tone.

“Alright…what did I do ? Ever since that night you brought me back home you've been avoiding me !”

You couldn’t bear his attitude towards you, the way he had left the situation fester and rot between you two.

“Don't…” he warned you.

So something did happen and, since you couldn’t remember a thing, you could only rely on him…

“What ? What happened ?! Did you try something ?” 

Deep down you knew it was not that. You trusted him and you knew he would never take advantage of the situation, hence why you called him but maybe…

“You tried something, I pushed you away and you didn't like that…”

…maybe provoking him…

“I think you should leave Y/n” he said in a straight tone, still avoiding your eyes and that's when you snapped.

“LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING PRICK !” you yelled at him, losing control of your emotions, finally getting a reaction from him as he was not used to being bossed around or insulted. 

That’s when he saw them.

The tears you’ve been keeping up for the past month.

Neither of you could tell if they were tears of sadness, of frustration or of rage but right now, as you looked at him with so much anger and hate and…heartbreak, you were terrifying.

Breathtaking.

A vision for sore eyes that stirred something in him…

Truly and utterly terrified of the man you had been trusting with your life only a month ago.

“A month Sylus…A month without a word ! without a call, without a sign of life ! Do you have any idea how worried I was ?! I thought you were…you were…” you couldn’t say the words, couldn’t admit how the mere thought of it terrified you.

“What ? Dead ?” He let out a resentful  chuckle before taking a sip of whiskey “...you made sure this was never an option for me…” and the bitterness of words hit you like a tone of brick.

“You know…You’re good at that little game of yours” he added casually, finally rising from his chair, making his way towards you “I actually believed in that little…amnesia game…”

“What are you talking about ?” you asked, but he did not listen, too focused on his own train of thoughts.

“...But stupid people say stupid things when they get drunk…” he continued, puzzling you even more “What I don’t get though, is the why” he pondered like he was looking for the answer to a complex riddle.

“Please expla…” you started, confusion replacing the anger.

“STOP WITH THE BULLSHIT !” he yelled back, throwing his glass against the wall and, for the first time, you were scared of him. 

It didn’t take being a genius to know that, between brute strength and his Evol, you were no match if things were to go south. 

“I did everything you asked…” he started, getting closer as you slowly backed away, shaking.

“Sylus you're scaring me…” you said in a genuine tone, fear replacing anger.

“You're noisy…”

That voice again…his voice…

“We set the Sanctuary ablaze…”

“...Fulfilled all of your mortal desirs…” his words dripped…hatred.

He was obviously drunk.

And dangerous.

“Stay back” you warned him, looking for the gun at your belt before aiming at him. Not that it would be of any use anyway but it could eventually buy you time.

“...3 chances..”

“You remind me of a young…”

“I WILL shoot you if you don't back the fuck away Sy !” you warned him but he didn’t stop and you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot.

Your head started to spin as he kept getting closer, your hand shaking, your will faltering as the smell of smoke filled your nose.

Smoke ? What smoke ? What Sanctuary ?

Just like in those nightmares plaguing your nights ever since Sylus and you Resonated…

“We bathed in the blood of your enemies and danced on the corpses of those who wronged you…” 

You could hear it, the screams of terror as fire drowned the city and you laughed in bliss, strong hands laced around you

“Are you satisfied, Beloved ?” 

“Sylus I don’t feel alright…” you whispered as you started to stumble, feeling the familiar sensation of a new Resonnance which didn’t make sense as resonating with him was a tedious process.

It could not happen just like that…could it ?

You were having a hard time focusing on him and his image started to shift ? Almost as if reality was...glitching...and you needed to close your eyes from the dizziness.

When you opened them again, his head was pressed against your gun.

 “Don’t know where to aim ? I can tell you…” he said and the way his eyes darkened was a striking contrast with the tenderness he used to caress your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm, like you were not holding a gun at his face.

“Only the fiend's archnemesis can kill it…” he whispers with pleading eyes.

“...My dragon is…here”

“Sylus…”

“I curse your soul” 

The words spilled out of your mouth…echoes from a buried past…

“Why Beloved ?” he asked in a broken voice, clearly lost in his own thoughts , closing his eyes as tears poured down your cheeks while you were unable to steady your hand.

“I curse your soul…to never fade away”

“Why would you do this to me ?” He asked, dropping to his knees, abandoning all pride as he laid his heart bare to you.

“You'll always be tied to me, forever”

“Why would you pretend we are not one ?” 

“Only I can grant you a true death”

“I just want you back…Please come back to me…” he pleaded, ready to give you his life if you asked him. 

Again

______________________________________________________________

Tagglist as requested : @crowskitten22 @deliriousdreamsabtyou @nappatheyappa @withering-dream @sylusfluffymeow @everythingistaken00 @unacielooo @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @minniestarmj @idkwhatimdoing27 @evil-mei @hrts4hanniehae @silverbrain @kindalonely-ngl @katykibbs

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Timid Flames

Summary - In a politically arranged marriage, they unexpectedly find solace in each other. As they navigate the storm of familial conflict, a night of celebration reveals desires and bravery, challenging the bounds of their union and the roles they play in a dangerous game of power.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2759

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had only been wed for three moons—a union born out of political necessity, carefully arranged to forge a fragile peace. 

The bride, Alicent Hightower's youngest daughter, had been offered as part of King Viserys's latest attempt to mend the rift tearing apart his divided family. 

After the bitter fallout from the petition for Driftmark, this marriage had been the king's insistence, hoping it might soothe the growing tensions.

Surprisingly, the match had not been as cold and distant as some feared. 

In fact, much to Jace's amusement, our marriage had become rather... agreeable. 

Unlike my more impulsive and outspoken brothers, I shared Jace's temperament—thoughtful, measured, and often preferring quiet contemplation over conflict. 

This similarity made it easy for us to find common ground, and more often than not, we ended up agreeing with one another on most matters.

Jace, though shy at times, had grown fond of me quicker than he expected. In quiet moments, when he allowed himself to reflect on our marriage, he felt grateful. 

"You know," he once remarked with a soft chuckle as we shared a private dinner in Dragonstone, "I expected our union to be just another duty. But it hasn't felt like that at all." 

He reached across the table, lightly clasping my hand. "I enjoy this... us."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "As do I. It's strange, isn't it? To be at ease in a marriage forged by others."

We were now bound for King's Landing, a return prompted by the upcoming wedding of my elder brother, Aemond. 

Though I could sense Jace and his brothers were not particularly eager to make the journey back to the capital so soon after leaving it, I longed to see my family again. 

I missed them—Helaena most of all, with her gentle spirit and enigmatic ways.

Standing at the ship's edge, I watched the shimmering blue waters stretch out before us, occasionally lifting my gaze to the sky. 

There, Silverwing, Vermax, and Arrax flew overhead, their gleeful screeches piercing the air as they relished the freedom of the open skies. The sight of the dragons always stirred something in me—a mix of awe and pride.

"Are you happy to be returning?" Jace's voice came from behind me, softer than the wind that tugged at our hair. 

I turned to find him watching me with that familiar, shy look on his face. I nodded, sighing with contentment.

"I am," I said, offering him a small smile before glancing down. "I apologize if you're not."

Jace shook his head and joined me at the railing, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned beside me. 

His fingers, warm and calloused from dragon riding, lightly grazed mine, sending a wave of warmth rushing through me.

"I'm fine," he assured me, though I could sense the faint unease in his tone. "It's Luke who's not faring well with the journey." 

He nodded towards his younger brother, who stood further down the ship's deck, looking paler than usual, his face scrunched with discomfort.

I chuckled softly. "Poor Luke."

Jace smiled at that, but there was a quietness between us now, a lingering tension not easily dismissed. 

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The grand hall of the Keep was filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as the celebrations for Aemond's wedding reached full swing. 

My brother looked every bit the proud groom, standing tall with his new bride by his side, but my focus wasn't on him. 

Instead, I was hyper-aware of the tension swirling around Jace and Luke, who sat beside me at our family's table, enduring a barrage of thinly veiled insults from my brothers.

Aegon, as usual, was at the centre of it, his words dipped in honeyed sarcasm as he spoke just loud enough for all of us to hear.

"How's the sea voyage treating you these days, Luke? Not planning on visiting Driftmark anytime soon, I hope," Aegon remarked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

The implication was clear—he was deliberately fanning the flames of the bitter conflict over Driftmark's succession, each word dripping with sarcasm designed to ignite tempers and deepen rifts, a cruel game that felt all too familiar.

Luke's jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his plate, refusing to rise to the bait.

Jace, seated beside him, wasn't faring much better. He sat rigid, his shoulders tense, clearly biting his tongue to keep from responding.

"Must be difficult, sharing the same roof with those who think you don't belong," Aegon continued, his grin widening as he lifted his goblet to his lips.

I shot a sharp glance at Aegon, my irritation bubbling beneath the surface. 

Helaena, seated to my left, tried to offer me a reassuring smile, but even her calming presence wasn't enough to quell the frustration building inside me. I hated this constant tension, this incessant prodding from my brothers, who refused to let old wounds heal.

To drown out their jabs, I did the only thing I could think of at the moment, I reached for my goblet and took a deep sip of the rich wine. 

The warmth spread quickly through my body, dulling the edge of Aegon's words.

But one sip wasn't enough.

As the evening dragged on and the taunts kept coming—Aemond, more subtle but no less pointed in his barbed remarks—I found myself reaching for the goblet again and again, the wine a welcome escape. 

It made everything seem a little softer, a little less sharp. Even Jace, who sat brooding beside me, looked more relaxed in the golden glow of the torchlight as the alcohol dulled my senses.

By the time the feast was at its height, I was no longer just drinking to forget. I was enjoying the lightness in my limbs, the freedom of inhibition. 

The wine had worked its magic, and I found myself smiling at Jace—really smiling, more freely than I had in moons.

"You're too tense," I teased, my voice soft and slightly slurred as I leaned toward him with a grin. 

My fingers toyed with the rim of my goblet as I looked at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Jace blinked, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanour. His eyes widened, and I saw a flush creep up his neck. 

He wasn't used to this—me, this playful, open side of myself that rarely came out. 

Normally, I was thoughtful and composed, matching his temperament. But tonight, I felt like throwing caution to the wind.

"Relax a little, husband," I whispered, leaning closer than I normally would, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I spoke. 

My hand drifted lazily to his arm, fingers trailing along the fabric of his sleeve. "We're at a wedding. Let yourself enjoy it."

Jace stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he struggled to process what was happening. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of open flirtation from me, and certainly not in public. 

His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and he swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

"I—uh, I'm fine," he stammered, though his voice betrayed him. He sounded anything but fine. His face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else I couldn't quite place.

I laughed softly, delighted at his reaction. It was rare to see Jace flustered, but here he was—blushing, his carefully composed demeanour slipping with each teasing word I threw his way. 

 The way he tried so hard to remain serious only made it more fun.

"No, you're not," I teased again, my voice taking on a singsong quality as I leaned even closer, my breath warm against his ear. "You're all stiff and serious. You should loosen up a bit."

Jace's gaze flickered to the goblet in my hand, his concern growing. "I think you've had enough," he said gently, his fingers brushing against mine as he tried to take the goblet from me.

But I wasn't having it. I laughed, pulling the goblet back with a grin. 

"Don't be such a bore, Jace," I teased, the wine making me bolder than I'd ever been. "Don't tell me what to do, not when I'm having so much fun."

The way his face flushed deeper and his eyes widened at the playful lilt of my voice sent a thrill through me. 

For a moment, I forgot about the barbed comments from Aegon and Aemond, the lingering tension in the room. 

All I cared about was the way Jace was looking at me—flustered, surprised, and just a little bit helpless.

"I—I think you should rest," Jace tried again, his voice now tinged with nervous laughter. He was still trying to be the responsible one, the composed husband. 

But his usual control was slipping, and I could see the internal struggle in his eyes.

Instead of listening, I giggled and leaned even closer, letting my fingers dance up his arm. "Or..." I purred, a wicked smile curling my lips, "maybe you should dance with me."

Before Jace could protest, I was on my feet, pulling him up with me. He let out a startled laugh as I dragged him onto the dance floor, his hand clasped tightly in mine. 

His surprise was clear, but I was already spinning him into the centre of the hall, the music and wine making my movements feel light and carefree.

"Wait—what—" Jace stammered, completely caught off guard. He stumbled slightly as I twirled him, clearly not expecting me to take the lead so boldly. 

His eyes darted around the room, and I could see the mix of amusement and mortification on his face.

The people around us watched with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement, but I barely noticed. 

All I could focus on was Jace—how out of sorts he was, how flustered he looked, and how much fun it was to see him like this.

"I think I'm going to regret this," Jace muttered under his breath, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and affection, clearly at a loss for how to handle this version of me.

"Not if you have fun," I whispered, pulling him close as the music swelled. 

The wine had made me bold, and I relished the way he seemed to falter under my touch. For once, Jace was the one who couldn't keep his composure.

As the night wore on, I continued to flirt, to tease, to dance. Jace was a blushing mess by the end of it, his usual stoic demeanour completely shattered.

He loved the extra attention—I could tell by the way he kept stealing glances at me, his eyes lingering just a bit too long, his lips twitching into an almost smile every time I laughed or teased him.

Even though he tried to be the responsible one, I knew he secretly enjoyed it—the way I made him feel tonight, how I drew him out of his shell. 

"Are you even trying to enjoy yourself?" I teased, glancing up at Jace as I pulled him onto the dance floor once again.

He gave me a small, shy smile, his hand resting on the small of my back as he followed my lead. 

"I am. Just... keeping an eye on you," he said gently, though I could sense his amusement beneath the worry.

"Keeping an eye on me? I'm your wife, not some unruly dragon," I said with a smirk, spinning away from him with a playful twirl. 

He caught me again, steadying me with the ease of someone well-practised in handling situations beyond his control. 

I leaned in closer, speaking just loud enough for him to hear, "But I like it when you watch me."

Jace's blush was immediate, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before he met my eyes again. He looked as if he wanted to say something—something meaningful—but just then, a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Seems you've had quite a bit of wine tonight," a deep, smooth voice said from behind me.

I turned, finding myself face-to-face with Lord Ormund Hightower, one of my distant cousins on my mother's side. His smile was easy, but there was something in his gaze that felt too familiar, too lingering as it settled on me.

"Perhaps," I replied, trying to maintain my composure as I felt his eyes linger a bit too long. "But it's a wedding. Surely a bit of wine and dancing is expected."

"Of course, princess," Lord Ormund said with a chuckle, his gaze sliding between Jace and me. 

"Though one might say your enthusiasm tonight stands out." His tone was light, but the implication was clear. 

His gaze flicked back to me, lingering in a way that made me uncomfortable, a hint of something more than politeness in his look. "I didn't realize you were so... spirited."

Jace's expression shifted beside me, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He moved closer, his hand settling protectively at my waist, but still, he said nothing.

"Spirited, perhaps," I said, trying to brush off the comment with a smile. "But no more than any other on a night like this."

Lord Ormund gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on me a beat longer before he added, "It's good to see you enjoying yourself. Though, if you're not careful, some might get the wrong impression of your... exuberance." 

His smile widened, a teasing glint in his eye. "Not everyone will see it as harmless fun."

Before I could react, Jace stepped forward, his posture straight and his tone steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice.

"I think you've made your point, my lord," Jace said calmly, though his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly. "And it's noted. But I would remind you that my wife's behaviour is of no concern to anyone here, except perhaps me."

The subtle warning in his voice wasn't lost on Lord Ormund, who raised his hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving his face. 

"No offence meant, Prince Jacaerys. Merely a friendly observation."

Jace's gaze didn't waver, his expression unyielding. "Of course. But observations, when unnecessary, can sometimes be mistaken for something else." 

His voice remained level, but there was a quiet protectiveness in his tone that made it clear the conversation was over.

Lord Ormund hesitated, then gave a slight bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, both of you," he said before turning on his heel and walking away, though I could feel the weight of his gaze still lingering behind him.

As soon as Lord Ormund was out of earshot, I turned to Jace, my heart pounding not from fear but from the rush of the moment. I wasn't used to seeing him like this—so firm, so sure of himself. 

There was something deeply reassuring in the way he had stepped in, calmly but assertively.

"You didn't have to do that," I said softly, though I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through my chest.

Jace met my gaze, the tension in his expression softening now that we were alone again. "Yes, I did," he replied simply. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. Especially not from him."

I looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his jaw was still set, the way his hand remained at my waist as if he wasn't quite ready to let go. 

His protectiveness stirred something deep within me—a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more intense.

"You don't usually speak up like that," I said, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. "I rather like it."

Jace looked slightly embarrassed, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"Someone has to look out for you, especially when you seem determined to cause a scene," he said, though his tone was light, playful.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Perhaps I'm more trouble than you bargained for."

Jace's smile grew, and this time, it was genuine and warm, the blush fading from his cheeks as his confidence returned. 

"I knew what I was getting into. And, if I'm being honest, I don't mind it."

The confession, quiet and simple, hung in the air between us. It wasn't grand or dramatic, but it meant something. Jace didn't just tolerate my boldness tonight—he liked it. 

He liked me, in all my messiness and unpredictability.

For the rest of the night, his hand remained at my waist, steady and reassuring, a quiet but constant reminder that I wasn't alone.

That no matter what happened, Jace would always be there, standing by my side, ready to protect me from whatever—or whomever—tried to push me too far.

A/n - I need to stop with the marriage of convenience trope x

[into-f0lkl0re]

kk arnold x reader

this is for all my kk arnold girlies (yall dont get enough love it hurts)

warnings: none i think maybe just my horrendous spelling

sfw (i might do something nsfw later but idk 🤷‍♀️ If yall like this i will)

———————————————————————

Before dating

* y’all are either team mates or you like work on the uconn wbb team for something

* i cam honestly see you working on the media team (yk how it is with the kk arnold show)

* like you are a student at uconn but you do this to put on your portfolio/resume and also it pays

* you are the only media girly who puts up with kk’s antics

* like everyone else runs for the hills when kk starts acting up but you are there trying not to kys- i mean laugh

* like the whole team loves you cuz you take fire photos and you are just awesome and amazing in general

* but kk is like 😍😍😍 “she doesn’t find me annoying or atleast acts like she doesn’t” 😍😍😍

* talks paige’s ear off about you to the point where paige is contemplating murder

“Paige-paige did you see y/n today”

“she looked so pretty i wonder if she thinks about me”

“do you think we should invite her on the live”

“ paige do you think y/n likes crumbl”

“ i bet she likes warm cookies”

“ do you think she would want to hang out with me?”

and paige is just like 😟🔫

“kk why don’t you just ask her? what is the worst she could say?”

“GIRLLL BOO ARE YOU DUMB TF?!?!?”

“kk the worst she could say is no”

“SHE SAYS NO AND THEN NO MORE KK ARNOLD SHOW AND THEN WHATS THE POINT OF ANYTHING??!!?”

“you have issues”

kk:☹️

the entire team gets so pissed off by kk’s rambling that they take matters into their own hands

it’s after practice or media day or something and you are packing up your gear and kk is just like admiring you from the bench. paige and ice just kinda grab her and push her towards you whispering “man up dude”

kk being kk stumbles and almost falls on top of you then awkwardly just like stands there 🧍‍♂️

“HI”

“oh hey kk what’s up?”

“you took good photos today”

“thank you”

“ofc! you also look really pretty today”

you like her and yk that she likes you so you mess with her a little

“so i didn’t look pretty yesterday?”

“UH-NO-YOU-I MEAN-“

poor girl is sweating

“YOU ALWAYS LOOK REALLY PRETTY”

“thank you kk you look really pretty as well”

“you think i’m pretty?”

“ofc i think you are pretty kk id be blind not to”

“would you -uh- maybe like -uh- wanna go out sometime just us or not like we can invite the rest of the team unless you want it to be just us which would be cool but if you dont-“

“kk i would love to go out with you”

“c-cool like just us? or like the team?”

“like just us”

“ok! cool! cool!”

kk is frantically wiping her sweaty palms on her shorts and does not know what else to say because she didn’t plan this far ahead she just kinda assumed you would say no

———————————————————————

while dating

* kk absolutely adores you

* she is a big physical touch person

* it’s how she shows her love

* she will just lie on top of you and hold you and will not let you go

* she holds on to you for dear life

* like if you have to go to the bathroom while yall are cuddling she is having a fit

“kk get off i have to pee”

“so you are telling me you don’t love me”

“kk you are lying directly on my bladder get off”

“so you hate me and you wish i was dead”

“kk literally what??”

“why do you wanna leave me???!??”

“kk i promise i will be right back”

“ can i just come with you “

“..fine”

she sits outside the bathroom while you are in there

she once tried to hold your hand and you were like

“i love you but i have limits i will not hold your hand while im pissing”

•she loves showing you off to the live

“bab-baby cmere the live wants to say hi”

“hi live”

“yall this is my beautiful girlfriend”

“baby we are doing a talent show what’s your talent?”

“yall my talented girlfriend is gonna sing for yall”

“kk i don’t want to sing”

“baby please”

you end up singing like shake it off or something

“YUP YUP THATS MY GIRLFRIEND!!”

“DOESNT SHE SOUND GREAT!-ANY HATE AND YOU ARE BLOCKED✋”

* you take all of her fit photos and she loves it

“kk baby move over here so the sunlight is infront of you- look to the side and then down- ok perfect hold on-“

and you are just like crouching weirdly with your digital camera or phone trying to get the best angle and you always do

and anyway yall are just perfect and wonderful together

this is kinda shit but i love kk and she deserves more love

i hope yall like it 🤞🤞 please send in requests idk who to do next and idk what to write for fics

thank you for all the love 💗!!!!

big forehead kisses💕💕

-faye

[frozenmoonshine]

TR boys' unexpected/random red flags headcanon:

Just some crack and slander for the humor purposes. As always, don't take it too seriously, and have fun with it at least half as much as I did writing it!

Since I obviously need to spell this out for some of you, even though it's literally in the title of the post - these are the red flags you wouldn't normally expect from them! That's the whole point of them being unexpected. So don't go telling me how I missed the mark with some characters, or how their red flags are something else. Yeah, we all know the obvious ones, but why would I state the obvious?!

TW: F!reader; implied mysogyny; mentions of DV, cheating, and general toxic behavior.

🚩Mikey - proposes on the second date.

🚩Draken - never talks about himself whatsoever. Even when you directly ask him to open up about what's troubling him, he's still difficult and avoids conversation.

🚩Baji - mama's boy. At first, it looks sweet, how he cares about and respects his mother, but soon you realize that he is dependant on her, and cannot make any decisions bigger than what to eat on his own, without "consulting with his mom". Silver lining is that Ryouko is an amazing, lovely woman, but you don't exactly want to date both the mother and the son at the same time, do you?

🚩Chifuyu - overromanticizes everything, then gets mad at you if things don't turn out irl the same they were in his imagination.

🚩Mitsuya - really damn cheap. Like, ok, I know you grew up poor, but going out once a month won't bankrupt you! (You're not even asking him to pay for you or anything like that, but he just refuses to step even one milimeter out of his frugal ways!)

🚩Hakkai - aside from the obvious red flag (you get a package deal of Yuzuha and Mitsuya as well, if you are dating Hakkai), he can also be incredibly self-absorbed and condescending sometimes, thinking he's so much better than you, etc.

🚩Pah-chin & 🚩Peh-yan - putting them together cause they have the same red flag - if you date one of them, the other one will third wheel all of your dates, no exeptions. Might as well just go poly and date them both at this point!

🚩Smiley - refers to women as "females".

🚩Angry - doesn't let you do anything on your own/overprotective. Look, Souya, it's nice that you're being a gentleman, but do you really think I'm incapable of getting a glass of water for myself?! His behaviour can be incredibly stifling and suffocating.

🚩Mucho - won't ever let you pick a date spot cause he's convinced he knows the best. You always end up doing what he wants for dates, or you don't go on a date at all.

🚩Haruchiyo - yeah, sure, he's got more red flags than China, but the not so expected one is that he's incredibly fussy and naggy about the smallest of things. "That's not how you put the trash bag in the can!" "You folded the laundry wrong! Look how I do it!" "Wipe the counter with this, not that!" "Don't leave your hair everywhere! I don't wanna live with a cat!" And so on and so forth, it feels like you are living with your parent(s) all over again!

🚩Hanma - another one with enough red flags to call it a carnival, sure, but the one that catches you off guard is just how jealous and possessive he is. "Where are you going?" "Why is your dress so short?" "You can't go out with male company wearing your tits out!" "Why are you hiding your phone?" "Who's that?" and so on and so forth, you get the idea.

🚩Kazutora - yet another walking red flag in a row (at least his unhealed self), but even as an adult (healed) he still retains that aggression from his teens and gets into random street/bar fights semi-regularly. Him coming back home bloody and bruised is not a rare occurrence at all.

🚩Kisaki - cheats. No idea how he manages to, provided that he looks like... well, that, but he still does.

🚩Taiju - a religious freak prone to domestic violence... what more red flags can you even ask for? None, indeed. But what you don't expect on top of all that is his complete lack of manners and just how loud and embarrassing he can be in public.

🚩Inupi - rude to the waitstaff.

🚩Koko - never got over his ex, stuck on her forever, and cannot ever be fully present in his current relationship. Compares you to his ex all the time, every other person he dated after her was just an unsuccessful rebound.

🚩Izana - does he even have any green ones? Likely not. But what you wouldn't exactly expect from him right away, given all the other red flags that come into front upon the first contact - is that he's a bad mansplainer. "You probably don't know how the betta fish do this thing where..." - Izana, I'm literally a marine biologist.

🚩Kakuchou - breaks up with you over the smallest things. He missed your call cause he didn't hear his phone ring while in the traffic? - He's not good enough for you and you two should break up. He was late 5 minutes to your date because Izana needed his help with something? - He's lowkey ready to commit seppuku, and of course, dramatically breaks up with you. It's tiring, honestly.

🚩Ran - gaslighter and manipulator par exellence! Undiagnozed NPD, but the symptoms are everywhere.

🚩Rindou - loves the gym more than you. Obsessed with working out and body building, won't eat normal food, spends all time in front of the mirror flexing and "checking his gains". Will either try to "get you into fitness" (force you to act the same way he does) or constantly tell you that you "don't understand" just how important it is to him. Is your 10th workout this week really more important than our anniversary, tho, Rindou?

🚩Mocchi - manspreads all the time, and manspreads badly. He's also that type that won't move away from the sidewalk if a woman is coming the opposite way.

🚩Madarame - probably not unexpected, but he's the biggest, worst incel of all. Lives in the manosphere and inhales the alpha bro bullshit podcasts.

🚩South - judges and publicly makes fun of your music taste. It doesn't matter what you listen to, unless it's 101% exactly the same as his taste, he'll be a real bitch about it. Of course, don't even dream about getting a hold of the aux cord!

🚩Shinichiro - doesn't shower regularly. Idk Shin, maybe your lack of personal hygiene was the reason for all those rejections so far? Just some food for thought...

🚩Takeomi - yet another one that's redder than the red army, but what you don't expect is how much he infantilizes you, especially if you are younger than him! Even if it's just one year age difference between you, he'll act all patronizing and constantly emphasise his "rich life experience" and tell you how "you don't understand some things because you are (too) young".

🚩Wakasa - secretly insecure about his height and gets super jealous if he sees you talking to a tall guy. Doesn't even matter if it's your blood relative or a random stranger asking directions in the street - Waka isn't having any of that. He'll sulk and jab at you for the whole day, never saying what the actual problem is.

🚩Benkei - Cannot find/keep a proper job to save his life! Got into some kind of beef with every single potential employer, so he's doomed to working at the gym for the rest of his days.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : What is your desire reality ?

Stay ! They don't love you like I love you...

Good morning pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 4-5

A.N.G.E.L soul tribe OR B.A.B.Y. soul tribe FOR EXCLUSVE CONTENT.

Your future lover| SEX Douala =SALE READING

PILE 1 

Death, 3 pentacles (reverse), 10 swords 

The end of your relationship is imminent, which is necessary. Y’all sitting so far away from each other that you look like a stranger. Y’all do love each other but don’t like each other. Meaning there's good intention, respect and affection for one and other but you can’t stand each other.  They are always choosing work over you. There’s nothing you can do. A situation is going to present itself in which you have no other choice but part away and a sense of relief will come mixed with worryness. Because you will finally be free from that problem. The reality is that this connection was built on shallow foundations. You went for them because they loved their work and were well off. So you feel secure that they have their shit together which safely help you blossom some romantic feelings but you quickly realize that you need more than just a provider to feel content. WARNING: You are soon going to reach your breaking point. I feel like you come from a family of bitter women. Who loves to hold down bums and loves to walk around saying ‘’he knows where home is ‘’ knowing damn well he has 3 babies on her. Others your own mom will always choose her little bf(s) before you. So you are scared that they are going to bully you because you choose a better man yet you're unhappy. First let them, old crooked big back bitter ugly wrinkly  faces bitches rot on their own. You decided you wanted more for yourself and you went for it. Whatever their old ass bitches with no teeth are saying is more than worthless. Now you actually know what you want and need and don’t let the validation of men dictate your life. Second, babe is not because a person does not change for you that you are undeserving of success. You were not made to prove your worth. You are not going to spend you whole life changing in hope to blend with your environments for fuck sake. You think you want to be chosen but you really want to be worth it. I am here to tell you that YOU ARE. Even though you grew up in a toxic environment, you took upon yourself to do the change. You parent yourself. You took it upon you to get a degree, get a car, get an appartement (in this fucking economy) and have a enough financial literacy to vacay twice a year. You don’t even realize that u are GOALS. Your inner child is proud of you, you have no idea. Stop trying to convince others and start choosing you !

💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.

PILE 2 

7 wands, Knight swords, 6 wands, 3 wands 

Y’all want better but are not ready for the work necessary to achieve it. I am hearing Suki saying : ‘’Obstacles … What's obstacles ? I don’t know Obstacles…’’ Bitch is not because you are ignoring the obstacle that is not standing ahead of you. Y'all are also living in  poor areas. A lot of y’all the only heritage you have is poverty. Some of y’all live in the same house, in the same neighborhood from generation to generation. Is the only thing that your family has to their name. 

You are young (less than 25 years old). You have all the energy necessary to mold your raw potential. Your family may not support you in your endeavor towards a life of financial freedom not because they have ill intent but because they do not want you to be disappointed in it. They are so used to their rough financial situation that they are even proud of it. I’m hearing: ‘’ We always make it work …’’. But I swear they will support you sooner than you think because they seriously love you. When you are going to be sitting in a place that is more comfortable you are going to inspire a lot of aunties in your life to aim for more. You are going to be the blueprint of a change in your family finances. 

FEMININE ENERGY 

You are on the way to becoming nurses. Is one of your passions because serving and helping others are the times that you feel the most appreciated and valued. I see a future of intense but not so heavy schedule, big fat check, the shopping spree and the vacay whenever however. The most important is the pouring from your patient, family patient, your coworkers and community in praise for how amazing of a human not just a nurse you are. Y’all may even have your own charity to give back especially to  the neighborhood in which you grew up in. 

MASCULINE ENERGY 

Your life has been stagnant lately and you are seriously thinking about joining the army. GREEN LIGHT. Your spiritual team is supporting you in that path. The way your brain function is going to bring a plus to the disciplinary structure of the military. That switch of career is exactly what you need. 

💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.

PILE 3 

10 pentacles, 4 swords (reverse), Knight of cups, 8 pentacles 

Your energy SCREAMS influencer. Deep down in your soul all you want is peace. Y’all come from an extremely toxic household. 

Your dream reality is a happy household. Where there’s no constant screaming. Loving a supportive family of your own. A family that has an extremely strong bond that no matter what life throws at y’all, you guys come out even closer to each other. Living life with a husband/wife that doesn't mind sharing tasks. That enjoys changing the diaper, waking up early every morning to brew coffee for the both of y’all because he/she loves you and most importantly that LOVES spending time with his/hers kids. You want your home to be a synonym of a comfort place for your kids and a refuge for your partner. You want it to be your safe haven. Is not about everything going perfect but instead it is all about the constant happiness in the mundane from each member of the family. I see y’all with your hair in a bun, wearing a red t-shirt walking half asleep towards a crib of a baby girl. After leaving the warm embrace of your partner, who soon follows after you after y’all attempt to watch a movie. Even though you spend the whole day taking care of a newborn who woke up because his big brother was screaming at his video game. I’m hearing : ‘’ Sorry, mom !’’. I think that baby girl is a surprise baby because there is an age gap between your last one and her. Babe imma look deep into your eyes (as deep as the computer screen allows me), you deserve it. I know you are tired of the physical abuse you are experiencing in your family and you don’t want to stand up and speak your truth because you don’t want to end up in the system. So imma need y’all to lean on your friend. Because you need a safe place to release before that pain kills you. I feel like y’all have an amazing friend group and you need to stop focusing on the  big goal and take it step by step. I just ear you : ‘’ Who are u to tell me what to do ?’’ Answer: ‘’A bitch way more familiar with abuse than u think’’. Your life will not change overnight. You need to do a lot of healing before that reality comes to you. I know y’all are tired, everytime u build, your family fuck up. Imma tell you the way it is … they keep breaking because you allow it. When you stop seeking validation from them in a form of seeking understanding you are going to realize that you should have never sought validation from your abuser. I know that’s your parents but 2 truths can coexist trust me. Why the heck would you want validation from broken people when all you truly want is a wholesome family ? Do you take financial advice from a broke person when you want to make money ?. The sooner you are going to start living for yourself the faster that reality becomes yours. Stop thinking a man/woman is going to save you. Love won't make you see the light. Only you can bring yourself  out of your hole and then will the reward of love present itself. A lot of y’all want to be elementary or highschool teachers. I keep seeing someone strolling on tiktok, looking through ‘’ Day in the life of a teacher…’’. Some others of  y’all are actively studying towards a degree in education and the success and joy you are going to feel when walking the podium is going to be so overwhelming. Because you are the reason behind it. You are the one who put all the chances behind you to make your dream happen even though your biggest enemy was supposed to be your biggest supporter. Stay focus babe, everyone knows you deserve it more than anyone. You are the only one that seems to be missing the memo by the way you are behaving. 

💌 : If you wanna know how to use your sexual energy to manifest your desire reality, you always check this audio PAC which will also unlock all the extended content.

[enbyfrogwrites]

you're so needy, baby

first actual post, be kind!

tags: mommy kink, sub! choso, smut, begging, afab reader but reader is nb coded, reader is mixed coded but there's nothing pertaining to race tho outwardly, begging, cockwarming, needy!choso, dom!reader, 18+

also i tried my best but there's going to be spelling error and shit, i'm only one person and im sorry. Also decided to end it early because I don’t think that it’s that good. But if you want me to actually finish it, shoot me an ask.

word count: ~1.7k

It started that you wanted to play your game, and Choso kept asking for attention. He kept standing by your side even though you just started your new quest in your game. It was going to take awhile. You kept looking up at him when you saw him shuffling side to side from the corner of your eyes.

"Cho," You voice soft, this was your first forreal day off that you didn't have to do errands or still go on missions. You wanted to play your game. It's been weeks. "What is it that you need, baby?"

Your boyfriend just silently pulled at your sleeve, giving you a pout.

"If you want something, you have to tell me, I can't read minds." You pause your game and full turn to face the poor curse.

"I just..." His voice so quiet and sounds? Whiny? "I really miss you, Mommy."

oh. Oh.

"You miss Mommy, baby?" You coo, your face splitting into a toothy grin. You watch him nod, his face flushing such a pretty shade of pink.

"We...we haven't done it in so long," His voice was most definitely whiny. He wasn't wrong, since you were sent on back to back missions, all you did when you got home was just...sleep. The only thing you two did for the past couple weeks was scattered blows and handies. You understood where he was coming from.

But you really wanted to play your game. You also happened to look down, and see that Choso was half hard in the joggers you bought him. A bright idea crossed your mind, making you giggle slightly. It was perfect.

"How about this," You purr, your hands reach out and caress his stomach through his shirt. You watch as his body tensed and breath hitched. It made you smile softly. He's such a needy boy.

"I'll warm your cock, baby. I'll sit on your cock, and you be good for Mommy, okay?" You watch as his face twist in lust and confusion.

"Let Mommy play their game for one hour, okay? If you don't move and be a good boy, Mommy will let you fuck their hole however you want to, sound okay, Cho?"

Choso's face brightened up, you watched as his cock gave an interested twitch in the joggers.

"So... I can fuck Mommy if I'm good?" His voice was too cute, it was so hopeful and happy.

You nod, your lips giving your boyfriend a small smile of encouragement. "But, you're not allowed to move in me for one full hour. If you're able to do that, then yes." You really wanted to clarify the last part. You still really wanted to play your game.

Choso nodded, his face bright pink in lust and his facial expression showed so much excitement. You get off your office chair and motion for him to sit in it. You watch as he clammers into the chair, his hands fidgeting in his lap. His pants was still on…now that just won’t do.

You decided to pull the chair out from the desk, his hands grabbing on to the arm rests of your chair as you move him back. You move the chair far enough that you can slot yourself between the desk and your boyfriend, with space to move. You bend down to gently tug at Choso’s pants, pulling softly at each pant leg to get your point across. He dutifully lifts up his hips and you pull his pants down. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Oh you, slut. No underwear? You’re so needy, baby!” You laugh, not maliciously but out of surprise. Generally he always kept his underwear on even at home, it was a habit he picked up from living with Yuuji before coming to live with you. He’s so desperate. It was so cute.

Choso nodded, his flushed face deepening in color. “I missed you so much, Mommy.” Your heart fluttered, god he was so cute. You were wearing one of your boxers only, so you swiftly pulled them off and tossed them off to your bed which was next to your desk. You watched as your boyfriend’s cock jumped, his cock almost all the way hard just from taking off both of your bottoms.

“This only works if you’re fully hard, so I’m gonna suck on it okay? Don’t move, okay? Be a good boy.” He gulped, his blush went down his neck and to his chest.

You didn’t wait for a response, you carefully dropped to your knees so you don’t land on your boyfriend’s feet. You looked back up at his face, looking at his lust filled eyes as you carefully brought the tip of his cock to your lips. Choso gasped quietly as you began to go down on him, your brain storing all his beautiful sounds in your memory bank for later. You sucked as much as you could comfortably fit in your mouth, making sure not to swallow around his hard length. After all, it’s just to make sure he’s completely hard not to actually get him off. You pulled back and went down again, doing this action a handful more times. Each time you took a bit more of his length in your mouth than the last. By this point Choso began panting, his mouth was open and he was mewling pathetically at the attention that you were giving him. You watched as his face began to scrunch up, his eyebrows furrowing cutely as he whined softly and gripped the arms of your desk chair.

You decide to pull off, which caused Choso to whimper. “Mommy, you felt so good though!” Choso was adorable, his eyes had tears in the corners from the stimulation.

“I know baby, but I told you I just wanted to just get you hard so you can slide in my hole, remember?” You were teasing him, you hand coming to gently stroke the tip of his cock. You felt his cock twitch in your hand deliciously, making you smile up at him. “Only for an hour, okay?”

You stood up and pulled up your shirt a little, it was baggy and you didn’t want it to catch on his cock or anything else. You leaned down a little bit and kissed Choso, your lips only going for a peck then pulling away. It was adorable seeing the poor curse trying to follow your lips. You turned around and felt Choso’s hands grab at your back, massaging your rolls lovingly as you pulled the chair closer to the desk with one hand. It was nice, your boyfriend didn’t care what you looked like, he loved your fat stomach, all your stretch marks and cellulite. It made you so happy that Choso genuinely love you for you, and wasn’t an asshole or embarrassed by you being fat. It made your heart soft when you felt his right hand snake its way to your front and rubbed at your stretch mark covered apron belly. You loved him so much. Without much prompting, you reached between your legs and aimed Choso’s cock to your now sopping wet hole. You carefully sat down, sheathing his length inch by inch. It took you a couple moments since your boyfriend was so big, but you finally bottomed out and was fully seated in his lap. Behind you though, you hear Choso gasping and felt him grip at your stomach. You looked behind your shoulder and saw his face was completely blissed out but also tortured. Your boyfriend’s face was so flushed, and his lips were parted and had drool partially leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby you feel so good around me.” Choso gasped out, his eyebrows furrowing as he opened his eyes to look at yours. “Love your hole, Mommy! It makes my cock feel so good!”

You smile softly as you lean back to give him a kiss. You sloppily landed it on his nose, since that was as close as you could get, but nonetheless you turn back around. You shifted a little, getting a bit more comfortable on your boyfriend’s muscular thighs. The moment made both of you sigh, his shaft was hitting your insides Perfectly, and your hole was clenching around his shaft so good. It was then that you realized with a laugh that you were still too far away from the desk, Not too far away, but too much so that you couldn’t reach your keyboard well enough to actually play.

“Baby?” You ask, your head turning around to look at your boyfriend. “You can move me for a minute or two if you scoot the chair up closer to the desk.”

“Move you on my cock?” Choso sounded so excited.

“Yep! Only for a minute or two, then I’ll play my game. But I can’t play this far away from the keyboard.” You blink at Choso as he smiled at you as he did what you ask in a heartbeat. You felt yourself and him scoot across the hardwood floor in a smooth motion, his thighs clenching as he flexed his legs to propel forward. Choso propelled you two enough so you can reach your keyboard and pull it closer to you. He left enough room so your stomach wasn’t digging into the desk, he was so considerate. God you loved him.

“Okay, you can move for only two minutes then you’ll let me play, okay?” You grinned at Choso as you felt him grab at your hips and sides, and hefted you up. Since he was a half-curse, his strength was able to carry you with no problems. He swiftly brought you down, your ass smacking against his pelvis with a loud slap. You grab at your desk as he lifted you up and began a brutal pace. You were left moaning helplessly. Your body jolting with each time Choso meeting you halfway. You look at your desktop and see that two minutes has passed and you reach down and grab at Choso’s legs, making him come to a halt.

“Baby, that’s two minutes.” You grinned wolfishly.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for deceiving a psychiatrist with lies to get diagnosed with a psychological disorder so i could get attendance accommodations at school where it was really nazi strict and evil forced attendance and they would fail me for not going to class EVEN THO I DID EVERYTHING TO THE TOPS?????? Sick fucks tbh. May those “educators” burn in torment💖 i wasn’t allowed to have my anxiety/agoraphobia/aversion/truancy/YOUTHFUN absences excused bc of the fasc policies in place as a standard in our christofascist bluemaga joe biden hillary fucked bernie in the ass dry clinton fake woke coopting bullshit society. so because of their nazi policy i had to find a way to get accommodation bc clearly i couldnt be in class every day in a row and needed leniency, not academo nazi policy, i was like. Fuck it let me get my papers for that accommodations letter approval. Bc like i had already been going to the counselors for stress and general social bullshit So since i wasn’t allowed to use that for accommodation i hd to make sooo many months long appointments w this far af psych and i didnt have a car and what an added stress. They were like “we dont got a car to pick you up like a normal fucking doctors place. Take the bus!” Ok die first. Next fucking help me!!! I did the meds they really sucked bc i guess i didnt need it and it was all side effects, no benefits, and i was like FUCKING DIAGNOSE ME!!! after reading the DSM5 and “practicing whats wrong w me” so that they are like . Hm yeah that sounds bad. Then IN THE END IT WAS A FUCKING PERSONALITY INVENTORY THEY USED TO ASSESS MY ILLNESS. IT WAS A BAR GRAPH. It was bullshit service in the goddamn american healthcare system and then bullshit actual healthcare bc it was fucking fake. Dumb psych couldnt even tell i wasn a liar???? DUMBASS BITCH LOSER FAGGOT CUNT SCUM. I remember how they made me wait AND CHARGED ME WHEN I MISSED AN APP BC IT WAS SO FCKN FAR AND ANOTHER BC I TOOK A NAP. CHARGING UR POOR MENTALLY ILL CUSTOMERS??? They can explode forreal💖and so can the dumb school policy bitches who couldnt just let me get my A had to be like ohhh cant accomodate u even tho u hve a 98 u are gonna fail :/ DIE ON FIRE SCREAMING YOU SCUM BITCH!!!! <-me to that professor nazi. May she be tortured. ANNMYWAY im sorry to everyone who’s gone thru academic ableism and abuse by this bullshit system!!!!! my school ended up being transphobic and zionist so i transfered anyway bc i dont want that bullshit on my titles. I’m glad i got my classes accomodated tho! I only wonder if im legally beholden to that diagnosis or if we can just be like fuck that doctor. Hm. Like i lied 😂 ffbsjfbsjfbjsnfjekfnsjs FREE ATTENDANCEE THOOOOOOOOOO it should be like that always for everyone. Kill every nazi teacher forreal. And kill teachers who dont give free B’s. Fuck your grade curve bitch. Fuck your admin. FUCK IT ALL!!!!! And i know its possible bc ive had actually good teachers. Hmmm the nazis WISH they could hide!!!