#trying to catch up on here oof
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i should do some worldbuilding for bronwyn, but my problem rn is i really wanna give her a canon " traveler, " but i also wanna create a concept where your muse is the " traveler. " i wouldn't even know where to begin with the second option, though, so maybe i'll just brainstorm a plot and slap that on a wishlist.
i also just want to make her a piece of a bigger story, maybe even bring back a few old ( and i mean old ) oc's. if anyone knew me from years, ago, you'd recognize delwyn and eletta from a mile away as my grumpy prince and the annoying citizen who adopted him :' ) but i'm staring at my hands like where do i begin and how does one create a world with fictional kingdoms and governments and oh my gosh this is a lot
#staring lovingly and deeply at del and eletta though <3#though the fact that del and bronwyn share 'wyn' in their names bothers me just the tiniest bit bc i'm silly and picky#i'm too attached to ever change their names now :' )#del's got it rough though bc his brother kyne betrays their whole family so he can have the crown#del barely escapes and meets eletta who's a smithy's apprentice and chaotic enough to go on an adventure with him#to save his kingdom and his sister? sisters? i can't remember i just know he had a bunch of siblings asdfg#eletta was originally a soldier/guard BUT i think i'm changing that and sticking with her being an apprentice#but yeah i got thoughts but i'm daunted by them :' ))#ahhh and i do plan to at least add rin/pickle here! i'm just dragging my heels as always bc there's a lot and i feel forever like i'm#trying to catch up on here oof#get ready to ramble | ooc
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Um, hey! You know what?
🎂🎂 Foxfire Forest is five years old today 🎂🎂
Today is also the first day in about a month I've properly opened my PC so I don't have anything to celebrate with 😭😭
Life happened. I really wanted to make a character poll for this year since it's been a while since I did that, so it's a bummer.
But well, the poll is always a bit unfair to throw in the middle of a round anyway since people remember better those sims whose households I've posted recently. Maybe I'll make the poll after I finish the round or something. In any case:
Thank you to everyone who follows Foxfire! ❤️❤️❤️
And thank you for putting up with my abrupt random hiatus.
#text#text post#foxfire forest#anniversary post#the poorest anniversary post ever sigh#i promise i'll try get back to posting soon-ish#and also catch up with you all#i'm completely out of loop here oof
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last rb stressed me out lowkey akakska i had an ex like that and it became a self fulfilling prophecy kinda thing..
#like oof where do i even begin#for one... would recommend looking up what pedestalling is so u can catch urself when ur doing it.#and. hm. honestly even working on self worth n whatnot i think rly internalizing not 2 pedestal ppl cuts out a lot of self sabotage#like hello ppl in ur life r there bc they choose to be. you are worth it to them and they are showing u that w action.#u gotta be vulnerable.. u gotta trust in other ppl.. cautious optimism is fine but 😮💨😮💨#i hate when ppl assume what im thinking and feeling and act upon that. assumptions on assumptions.#my mom was like that in a mean spirited vindictive way. my ex would spiral if i took too long to respond stressed as hell#thinking that i had all these horrible thoughts about her or that i was just using her like holy shit I'm just sitting here drawing ajsjka#i am trying to make friends. i am recovering from my own personal circumstances and trying to figure myself out etc.#was also actively working on finding myself as a trans woman bc it was so early in my transition.#idk. like damn ppl have Lives‚ hobbies‚ other ppl they talk to‚ they take time for themselves.#if u don't know and ur stressed about it‚ ask..? but then believe ppl when they answer idk.#sorry.. I've annoyed myself lmao. it was wild... things were dead simple on my end but she came up w hella things she swore HAD to have bee#true and after breaking up w her she kept DMing me w long ass self deprecating vents and mischaracterisations#i had to block her after a while like 😐 u ever see somebody go to therapy and get worse somehow#i cannot fw people who have low self esteem anymore but like i sympathize from a distance lol#hello from the other side of the interaction... self love/worth is hard but please try#ur mischaracterization of ppl based on assumptions is hurting them and it will alienate ppl n push them away#and then become a sort of self fulfilling prophecy.. but also take what I'm saying w a grain of salt 🤷🏾♀️#i just have my personal experiences
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“Things haven’t changed much down in the Lower World, I see.”
#;; ooc#Oof it's been a hot minute since I was last active#Happy (Belated) New Year and Happy 2023 everyone!!#I hope you're all doing well whoever is still around#Yo bitch here has been very hard at work for the last few months and finally landed herself a permanent job!#Everything has been working out and I'm steadily getting back on track with life again#In a much happier place these days and much more secure/getting out and about#Just had to be away from tumblr a while to do it#Going to try and pop in every now and again to catch up with people in case anybody still wants to RP#I started watching The Dark Crystal so have tons of new muse for Shalria haha#Skeksis are amazing creatures
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365 Days of Poems: Day 10 (January 10th)
Harmonious Anxiety
There is a music inside me
There always has been
When I was younger,
before I knew much of anything,
my fingers fumbled over the keys and strings
attached to my organs
and what came was a cacophony
produced by my movements
inside
I tried to teach myself
how to turn the discordant noise
into something—anything—pleasant,
and sometimes I would stumble
upon notes that fit like a jigsaw,
but mostly,
I made it worse
with a mess of overthinking and insecurity
I learned to leave the music alone
and let it play itself
however it wanted or needed to,
but sometimes the cacophony would return
without my influence
and I would have to intervene,
trying to muffle the sound
and silence the chords,
but I rarely succeeded at that too
Eventually,
someone else—a musician—took my hands
and taught me
how to pluck the strings and touch the keys
to make a melody
that grew into a symphony
with my internal orchestra,
and they taught me
it's impossible to fully stop the cacophonies
but it is instead possible to make my own music with it
until it passes
They were right:
the cacophonies have never vanished,
but I have since learned
to live with them in harmony
- - - - -
Here's the link to the corresponding writing prompt post
#very much still trying to catch up with posting these#so oof#this poem is very much drawn from my experience with my own anxiety#and this poem acts as a metaphor of how ive learned to cope and live with my anxiety#and the 'musician' here is a mix of the counsellor i had in high school and my girlfriend as they both have helped me immensely#as for what i did on the 10th i kinda have no idea (i was at least a bit sad cos that was david bowies death day)#so oopsie for that#thanks for reading#writing#writer#creative writing#writing prompt#poem#poetry#writeblr#trying to be a writeblr at least#*for#edit: i actually now remember that my girlfriend and i watched more squid game on the 10th
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ANIMALS- L. HOWLETT
Pairing: Boyfriend!Logan x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 636 (quick drabble lol)
Summary: You and Logan play a game of hide and seek while you have the manor to yourselves…
Warnings: Smut implied, fingering, daddy kink, praise kink, a little degrading, size kink, Logan being a dommmm, priminalish? Logan, swearing, teasing, grinding etc
“baby i’m prayin on you tonight, hunt you down and chew alive just like animals, animals like animals… baby you think that you can hide, i can smell your scent for miles…”- animals, maroon 5
You counted your breaths, trying to steady them. A quick, sharp inhale.
One, two, three, four. Out.
You gripped the bannister of the oak headboard, squeezing yourself in a corner by the back of the bed. It wasn't long now before he found you.
It was a chase. A hunt, a hound sniffing out his prey.
You and Logan had made a deal- your agreement more a joke then anything, but nonetheless- you were here, in hiding.
“If I catch you, I get to fuck you.” He smirked , flipping his pocket knife in the air, fidgeting around between his fingers like the blade was nothing. You laughed, eyeing him up suspiciously.
“You get to fuck me, hm?”
“Yeah sweetheart. Anyway that I want.”
Well you had never backed down from a challenge, especially not from him. As your boyfriend it was his job to rile you up- and to get you going. You couldnt say you minded it though.
So now you were here, a hand gently held against your mouth, as you tried to slow your heartrate down. You knew he had heard you, there was no way he hadn’t. The manor was empty, everyone gone on either summer break, a mission or were just out for the day.
It was when you and Logan could have your fun. The real fun.
Your footsteps surely echoed down the grand hallways, bouncing off the oak furnishings and dozens of old paintings hung. It was only a matter of seconds now, before he found you.
You squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, wetness coating the apex of your thighs. Your skin turned hot to the touch, heart beating so loud you could hear it rattling as if it were a fly buzzing in your ear.
Sure enough, the clack of his boots stopped at the doorway, pushing it open slowly. It creaked so loudly you winced.
“Cmere pretty, pretty girl. Come to daddy.” he chuckled, tormenting you with his slow and stead stride.
You heard an armoir open, then slam shut. He was toying with you.
“I know you're in here baby. I can smell ya.”
One, two, three, four. One, tw-
You let out a loud yelp as two large arms caged you in, sweeping you off your feet as if you were a sack of potatoes. “Caught ya.” he whispered teasingly in your ear, throwing you on the bed.
You bounced with an oof, scrambling back as he pounced on you. “Mghm Lo-“ you whined as he tore your top off with such ferociously you feared his claws would come out.
“You like running from me baby? You like the chase hmm.?” You nodded, gasping as his denium clothed knee pushed your legs apart, leaving you to grind shamelessly on his knee “Yeah, yeah I know you do. Fuckin slut.”
“F-fuck..” you stuttered as he pinned your hands above your head, letting you ride him. “Such a needy girl.” he cooed at you, mocking your moans and whimpers as he tugged down your shorts.
“She’s so needy too. Should I give her what she wants?” he asked, eyes greedily taking in the wet patch on your underwear. You clenched at the mere sound of his voice, panties dripping wet. Soaked. “Please Lo- you have to-“
“I have to what hm? I don’t think I have to do anything. You’re not in control here, princess.” You sucked in a gasp as his hand slithered down your underwear, large fingers coaxing you as they lightly brushed your clit, pinching it.
“Pretty girl.” he cooed, sliding a finger down past your folds, to pump deep inside you, curling until he hit the spot that had you seeing stars. “Stretchin ya out baby, cause you’re too tight. Always so tight f’me. I’m gonna fill you up so good, just the way you like baby. Such a tiny lil thing, you just wanna get wrecked hm?”
You were beyond flustered, muscles tensing as he picked up the pace- your toes curling. “You’re doing so good princess. But you gotta take my cock now, m’kay?”
#wolverine fic#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool and wolverine#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman#deadpool 3#wolverine#wolverpool#wolverine smut#logan howlett#logan howlet smut#wolverine x reader
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whatever you say, bro - chs
pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."
Read Part Two here!
A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?
Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen.
Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro
You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.
Bro.
It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.
Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny.
Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro.
You close your eyes with a sigh.
"Thumb war."
"What?"
You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.
"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie."
Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on."
As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.
You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too.
“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned.
You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.
"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.
"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little.
"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you."
The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.
Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."
Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.
But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.”
For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier.
As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”
Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote.
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re annoying.”
You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best.
“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line.
It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.
"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much.
"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –
Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.
When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”
Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”
“You kissed me.”
Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”
Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”
@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin
#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#seventeen imagine#seventeen imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x you#vernon x you#chsfic#my writing#bookyeom700#seventeen fluff#chs x reader
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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6
Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.)
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6
There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory.
For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes—you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages—you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window.
It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.
The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut.
And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down.
“So, what happens now?”
The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers.
You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes.
“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”
You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with.
There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are.
“Seems we’re at an impasse.”
It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this tenuous game of two.
But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.
“...Indeed.”
You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit.
You need another hit.
“Why the long face, little dove?”
Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus.
“We can figure this out together, can’t we?”
You pick up your phone.
––––
“You’re here? Make yourself at home.”
You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely.
Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.”
There’s a shocked silence; then––
Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character.
You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.”
He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth.
"Good morning, indeed."
––––
You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary—which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance.
“So you could, like–hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?”
He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you—half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.
The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago.
Now he acts so human, so alive, that it’s almost unreal.
(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.)
“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows.
He knows the question you’re about to ask—curious thing that you are.
“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.
“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”
“And Memory Cards?”
“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”
“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”
He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”
“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”
“More or less.”
“And you never thought to question that?”
“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”
You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.”
––––
You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else.
For starters, he’s a lot chattier.
“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”
“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?”
“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.”
And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.
“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!”
“Move, then. Let me handle it.”
“Block it, block it!”
“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?”
He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC.
“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that’s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh?
Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.
“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.”
Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.
––––
Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work.
You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.
And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate.
“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”
He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value?
“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway.
After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.
‘tofu easy lunch recipe’
‘10 mins tofu recipes’
‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!
… Really, kitten?
You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices.
(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.)
Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”
After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway.
Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—
Another notification pops up.
Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.
Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.
Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”
He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say.
-
-
In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.
“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.
“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”
“Anytime, darling.”
––––
“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.”
Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.
"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"
You blush and look away. "... Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."
––––
Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.
Well. Almost nothing.
A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X
You almost ignore it—brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando—when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up.
+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.
… Huh?
“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…”
+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten.
Then–
+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.
Your jaw drops. “Holy shit—you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?”
+0063-XXXXXX: 👍
+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄
So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure.
You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.
+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.
+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use.
+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say.
+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.
+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.
+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph?
… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is.
You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus
+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK.
You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.
He sends two more messages.
+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie.
Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉
––––
Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic.
You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?
You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>
Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps.
Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately.
You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??
Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder.
You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….
Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.
Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie.
"Um, hello—?"
Your gaze snaps back to the–very real, very present–person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.
Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.
Oops.
They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"
You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.”
Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”
They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.
Your phone vibrates. Twice.
…
You sneak a quick, final peek.
Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️
Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK?
Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply.
You: will do !:9
Sy-Sy (??): Good girl.
––––
"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."
“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?”
You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing.
It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.
Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.
“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.
You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue.
"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."
Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger.
Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.”
There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.
Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.
With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a bow in respect.
––––
You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies—enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real—and you’re bored to tears.
“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.
Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.
“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines—I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.
To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards—no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups.
After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.
He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you—not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).
There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…
Oh, wait.
“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?”
-
-
You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.
“Ha! That’s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.
He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker.
“... How are you so good at this??”
“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.
By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.
––––
“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”
“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”
It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying.
You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.”
––––
“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.
It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening.
He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll—if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.
“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!”
He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”
“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”
“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”
He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”
Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”
He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”
“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”
“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.
“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.
You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore.
Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen.
Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed.
“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”
He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation?
His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions.
“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.
No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–
perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—
I want to see you––
Why do I care–?
I don’t care––I care, I care so much––
“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.”
He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours.
I don’t care. I don’t.
You take the first shot.
____
“What’s the song you’re playing?”
You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise.
“Uhh—Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?”
He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.”
And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.
____
From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.
In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop.
And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio.
The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep.
-
-
-
You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact.
Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie.
Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.
Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.
Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient.
You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.
You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here
You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk
You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2
You: <3*
Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. I'm looking forward to it.
Sy-Sy (??): ♥️
____
From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.
Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum—the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.
There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.
It’s elusive; this connection—something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade.
The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude—one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time—comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth.
The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.
Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.
And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore.
Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been.
____
“Come to me, just in a dream
Come on and rescue me
Yes, I know I can be wrong
And maybe you’re too headstrong
Our love is––”
Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean
(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads x you#lads x reader#love and deepspace fic#sylus qin
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♧he went...that way...♧
Katsuki Bakugou x CheshireCat!reader
♤Reader can be any gender, reader has like cat ears and tail and stuff cuz...cheshire cat quirk ig, uhhhh this can be in like season 3, and him and reader are kinda in a situationship, and also I wrote this at 3am and was very sleepy, please don't judge about how shit it is💀🗿
◇Enjoy at your own risk
"Dammit.." Katsuki mutters as he walks through the forest outside of the U.A dorms. He grumbles to himself, looking behind trees and around bushes.
Katsuki got into a fight with Izuku, again, and Izuku ran off to get some distance from him, which made Katsuki chase him. So that leads Katsuki here, investigating the forest to find the green-haired boy.
"You can't hide forever, Deku!" Katsuki yells, cupping his hands around his mouth in hopes it would make his voice carry throughout the forest.
Katsuki's search is interrupted by a certain someone's mischievous giggle. Katsuki grumbles to himself, rubbing the bridge between his nose in annoyance.
"You'll never find him where you're going." You trease, lounging back on a long and thick tree branch as you stare down at him with a predatory gaze. You giggle again, rolling onto your stomach, tilting your head side to side. "You look so small from up here, so fragile!"
Katsuki glares up at you as you taunt him, watching as your tail flicks back and forth and side to side. You've always been a nuisance to him, always messing with him and making his life harder for a cheap laugh.
But he loves you anyway. You're lucky your cute.
His best bet was to just try and ignore you, so he tried to do that. Katsuki looks back at the path infront of him, continueing to stomp off, but he stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. He turns, only to see you mimicking his walk.
"SCRAM!" Katsuki growls at you, making you disappear with a laugh. Katsuki smirks, proud of himself for scaring you off. Just as he's about to move again, he sees footprints walking behind him, almost making him think Tooru was there, but he knew it was you messing with him again.
Katsuki lets out a surprised yelp when you lift him up by his waist, carrying him around like a suitcase. "Oi! Put me down, you mangy cat!" He exclaims, kicking his legs and gently punching your thigh. Katsuki squrims in your arms, trying to escape before you see the blush on his face.
"Alright~" You grin, holding him up above your head with ease, then drops him onto the ground. Katsuki falls down with a soft 'oof', then quickly stands up and dusts himself off. "How the hell do you do that?! I'm taller than you!" He says, glaring at you as you circle around him.
You move behind him and squish his waist, making him blush even more. "Why, its not my fault you have such a grabable waist." You retort, giving him a playful bite on his nape. "Why not stay a while? The rabbit is long gone, you won't catch him now." You tease, placing your chin on his shoulder and whispering in his ear.
Katsuki grumbles and clenches his fists, not wanting to give into you, but also really wanting for you to squeeze his waist again. "Whatever. Just tell me where Deku went already." Katsuki huffs, crossing his arms against his chest.
You grin, stepping infront of him and plastering on an innocent smile. "Why, of course!" You say sweetly, tilting your head to the side. You then point your arms in opposite directions, and can't help but grin mischievously. "He went," You begin as your eyes flick between left and right, not choosing a single direction. "That way."
Katsuki groans, covering his face with his hands. "You're such an ass! Fine! I'll find Deku myself!" He grumbles out, moving past you, storming off.
You grin, leaning back against nothing, yet keeping your balance perfectly as you stare at Katsuki's retreating figure. "Well, good luck. He went right, not left." You mutter to yourself, giggling mischievously. You grin again, ready to follow him again and continue to annoy the ash blonde.
#bnha#mha#Mha season 3#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x male reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x male reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x male reader#katsuki x ftm!reader#katsuki x male reader#katsuki bakugou x female reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x you
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Finally Getting Help (prt 5)
Masterpost
It took a little convincing to get Jazz to come back with them, but she didn’t want to stay with Constantine because he ‘smelled like cigarettes and generational trauma’ and she couldn’t stay alone. So in the end she agreed to come back to Wayne manor with the promise that Tim would help walk her through the process of getting emancipated since he’d already done it before. Dick informed Agent A they’d be having another new person for dinner and asked Jazz if she had any allergies, which was also a no. Apparently the Fentons tended to be a very hearty family.
They took the jet back, dropping Jazz off at the manor before parking in the batcave and changing into civics as quickly as they could so they could go greet her. Before they could Alfred sent a video on the family group chat. The video started with Danny pacing in the foye, then the door opened and Jazz hesitantly let herself in only to be greeted by a battering ram of Brother hurtling towards her.
She managed to get her arms up in time to catch Danny with an Oof before they just clung to each other. Awww, why weren’t any of Dick’s siblings like that with him?! Something to bully them about later.
—----
“What happened?” Danny whispered against Jazz’s chest.
“The Justice League finally stepped up and dealt with it. Locked the portal, took away mom and dad and Vlad, I don’t know what will happen with any of them but it’s not our fault whatever it is. It’s not our responsibility or our problem, I’m going to focus on university and you’re going to focus on keeping yourself and the babies healthy and safe.” She said softly, feeling Danny wince.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the babies, I just didn’t know how too,” Danny said, and Jazz could feel how he tensed, expecting her to be angry with him.
“It’s okay little brother, I understand. That was a lot to process, I’m sure you would have told me soon,” She murmured and he nodded. “Danny, did he… did he rape you?” Jasmine forced herself to ask softly. She didn’t think so, but she just needed to know.
“No, he stole my DNA and tried to clone me. But it didn’t work and Danielle and the other clones were melting. I don’t know how many he tried but I can’t imagine he started in batches of ten. I could only save two, Daniella and one of the boys. It was awful. I don’t know how long they’ll need to stay inside me to fully develop but they can take all the time they need. I can feel them inside me, I can feel their love. I love them too, they’re my babies Jazz, I know I’m young but…”
“You’re going to be a great parent Danny,” Jazz promised softly, giving him a gentle squeeze. “And I’m going to be the best aunt and babysitter you could ask for.”
She didn’t realize he was crying until his laugh came out audibly wet. “I’m sure you will. Thank you Jazz.”
“No problem Danny. What about the Wayne’s, you trust them? You think you’ll be okay here? I’ll going to Gotham U so I’ll be close. I’d like to work at Arkham anyway.”
“Ya, they seem good, I’ll be fine here Jazz. Don’t worry.”
“I’ll always worry about you little brother,” Jazz said softly and Danny laughed again, trying to wipe his face as subtly as he could before he pulled back and finally let go.
Alfred cleared his throat delicately to remind them he was still there, though Jazz was glad he hadn’t interrupted their moment. “Dinner is ready when you are Master Danny, Miss Jazz,” he said with a nod and disappeared back down the hall towards the dining room.
“Well I’m starving, I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast!” Jazz said as she started to steer them both after Alfred.
“I’m pretty much always hungry,” Danny admitted with a chuckle. “The little ones take a lot of energy and I need to replace it somehow I goes,” He said touching his stomach in a way she now realized he’d been doing a lot. How had she missed that?
“Well you eat as much as you need to, and any cravings too. They probably have nutrients you and the baby need. You should see a doctor too. I know you probably went to see Frostbite already but you’re still half human and if they’re cloned from you so are the babies. Ask Bruce about a doctor that you can trust.”
“I will, I promise. You’re right, I really do want the babies to be okay and with what you said about the Justice League doing their job I have a feeling my existence won’t be illegal for much longer.” Walking into the dining room just in time for the family to overhear the last of that conversation.
“Definitely not,” Bruce said firmly. “I know for a fact Martian Manhunter is absolutely furious hearing they did something like this to another sentient species just because they weren’t human.”
“You know Martian Manhunter!?” Danny said with literal stars in his eyes.
“Oh here we go,” Jazz said with fond exasperation.
“Yes?” Bruce said, he hadn’t meant it like a question but he was just surprised, and a little worried, there was no way Danny would be prejudiced right?
“Oh my god can I meet him?! He’s been my favourite hero for ever! He’s from SPACE! I love space! I want to know everything he knows about space, and about Mars! I’ve never been to space! Well I’ve flown to the moon a couple of times but I couldn’t go further and be back in time for school.”
He had started floating off the ground as he enthused about space, with fond exasperation Jazz grabbed the back of Danny’s shirt and tugged him back down into a seat at the dining room table. It was like Peter Pan with the joy lifting him up, and his excitement was both adorable and infectious. It was so good to see him happy.
While he was talking food had been being passed around, and Damian, who was sitting on Danny’s other side from Jazz, had been heaping his plate while the older boy was distracted. It was sweet to see him being… caring to another person, he was even putting some meat on Danny’s plate with an odd stubborn set to his jaw. He almost looked aggressive but that was really just his determined face. Damian had accepted Danny in record time, which was a little surprising but it also made sense, they all knew Damian really loved caring for people, and children, and with Danny carrying babies no doubt Damian was already staking his claim on the role of favoured uncle.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Bruce promised with a little smile. He was sure J’onn would be happy to meet Danny so it wouldn’t actually be hard.
“Thank you!” Danny cheered, only Jazz’s grip on his shirt keeping him from leaping back into the air.
“Eat,” Damian reminded, shoving a fork into Danny’s open hand. “Pennyworth says you were too worried to eat much at lunch and you need the nutrients!”
“Aww thank you ghostling,” Danny cooed, roughling Damian’s hair who scowled and ducked away, but didn’t lash out At All! Huh apparently pregnancy was a shield against Damian’s aggression.
Danny did start to eat though, and to keep him on track the family started talking with each other. It seemed to make him more comfortable, if things were quiet he felt the need to fill the space instead of filling his mouth. It was honestly sort of nice, even Damian shared a bit more than he usually would have about school, and about his art, then started telling Danny in particular about his animals. Danny hadn’t met them yet after all and he needed to know everything! Which ones were friendly, how to appropriately handle any of them, what treats they could have.
The way Danny lit up and started questioning Damian about his animals was honestly a little startling, but it couldn’t be more clear that he was genuinely enthusiastic and Damian was preening. Rarely did he get such an attentive listening ear when talking about his pets, especially since everyone who had been in the family for a while had heard similar rants so many times they’d started to tune them out.
It was a testament to Damian’s self control that he insisted Danny finish his dinner before dragging him away from the table to go show him all the various animals he had collected over the years. Danny laughed as Damian tugged on him and waved back at the family, joking about being kidnapped again (which, worrying) but he didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s good to see someone with such a healthy and well supported obsession,” Jazz said with a little smile, watching after her little brother and Damian rush off. “Oh!” She said, snapping her fingers, “I should explain all that for you! If you’re going to take care of Danny you’ll need a crash course in Ghosts and Liminality. I uhh, I have a powerpoint?” She said, looking embarrassed and hopeful as she pulled a USB out of her pocket.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss. I’ll set up the projector in the family room,” Alfred said as he whisked the last of the dishes away.
“Oh! Thank you Alfred. Can I help at all?” Jasmine asked, already getting up from the table so she could follow.
“Nonsense, you’re a guest and you had a very long day already. I’ll set it up, and then fix a room for you next Master Danny’s for tonight,” Alfred said briskly, shooing her back into the dining room room with the family.
She looked like she was about to argue but she thought better of it. “Alfred is really the one in charge around here and we all know it,” Dick commented to her with a little smile. “No use arguing with him, and he usually knows best anyway.”
“Well, alright if you say so,” Jazz said with a little smile and tension slowly eased from her shoulders. When was the last time she got to relax? Having to worry about her brother and no one really taking care of the, how long had she been googling “how to stitch up a wound’, ‘how to help a 14 year old with ADHD study’, and various other things to try and care for a boy only two years younger than her.
“So I know you mentioned to Nightwing that you wanted to go to Gotham U? I don’t know how your grades are,” (a lie, they knew she was a genius and her grades were excellent), “But the Wayne family sponsors many scholarships and if you don’t qualify for any of those we would be happy to just pay for your schooling. What would you like to study?” Bruce asked
“I want to study psychology!” Jazz said, lighting up instantly. “That’s what I’ve wanted to study since I was seven. I want to be a psychologist, and I’d like to intern at Arkham. I know it’s a dangerous place, but I’m tougher than I look and I have Danny on speed dial so I’ll be fine.”
Well at least she had thought about the danger, and tougher then she looked meant something because she already looked plenty touch. “Well, I know Arkham can always use good doctors,” Bruce chuckled. “Just try not to become the next Harley Quinn,” He said it like a joke but he did mean it, the last thing Gotham needed was another evil genius.
“Don’t worry, she lacked grounding connections due to her upbringing. I’ll have Danny, and his babies, and I’ll make friends outside of the hospital. As long as nothing happens to Danny I’m sure I’ll be fine, just like as long as nothing happens to me, or the other people he loves, Danny will be fine.”
It sounded like a warning, and it probably was, but they already knew that. Zatana had warned them that Danny could be dangerous. He would need grounding connections, but everyone did, and the Waynes already knew they were going to be family. On their own any of the Bat clan knew they could go off the deep end, a lot of them had even seen the futures with evil versions of themselves but with the other to care for and about, it kept them on the right track… at least mostly.
Next
#damian wayne#danny phantom#dc x dp#fanfiction#dick grayson#bruce wayne#Zatana#cassandra cain#finally getting help au#danny is pregnant au#trans!danny#mama danny#jazz fenton#alfred pennyworth#tw sa mention
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JAKE & THE COLLEGE SCENERY : pair sim jaeyun x fem genre college fluff minor angst friend of a friend to lovers warning suggestive ish also not proofread !! wc est. 09k-1k
COLLEGE!JAKE who you met when you chased after the morning bus, your roommate kept snoozing your alarm until you only had five minutes left to get ready, get breakfast and catch the bus—which ultimately left you.
“oh my god! i’m so sorry,” you fell with a big oof, dropping all of your books. however, your gaze wasn’t on the boy you just slammed into the concrete, instead it was on the bus that became smaller and smaller.
COLLEGE!JAKE who simply smiles at you while picking up your books for you. all you could do was mumble sorry after sorry when seeing his bleeding knuckles—he had tried breaking your fall when you ran into him but landed on his knuckles.
“no worries, happens all the time.” you both stand up and you finally get a better view. the boy adorns a bright smile and chocolate brown hair. he’s wearing the universities jacket—you’ve never seen someone look so good in school merch.
COLLEGE!JAKE who you run into yet again during your free period when one of your friend’s calls you over to their table. as you speak to jongseong about the lesson in marketing 101, jake can’t help but smirk at your nervous demeanor.
“this is jake by the way, he’s single.” jongseong wiggles his brows while patting jake’s shoulders. “yeah, i almost broke his hand this morning,” you let out a low chuckle. “sorry again, i was actually gonna look for you to give you this.” it’s a handkerchief you maid back in middle school.
COLLEGE!JAKE who stares at the handkerchief with your initials until his eyes physically burn. he isn’t sure why you had such an impact on his soul; every thought that crossed his mind was about you.
COLLEGE!JAKE who can’t help but search for you at a party after jongseong said you’d be there. he ignores the people at the ping pong table calling his name and the girl’s sitting on the couch calling him over. he’s here for one thing, and it’s you.
COLLEGE!JAKE who finds his feet moving at a faster pace when he sees you hanging around the pool with your group of friends. your laugh echo’s through the crisp air and he thinks it might be his new favorite sound.
“are you sure your friends won’t miss you?” you question when you notice everyone trying to catch his attention. jake shakes his head while he continues to drag you to an empty room with a bottle of wine in his hand. “nah, and even if they did, i’d rather be here with you.” he closes the door behind him, facing you with a look of sincerity. “i don’t think i’ve been able to stop thinking about you since we ran into each other.” jake intertwines you hands with his.
COLLEGE!JAKE who isn’t afraid of showing his feelings. as you both lay in whoever’s bed staring at one another with the tipsiness of the alcohol running through you, you notice his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.
“i’m surprised jongseong has never mentioned you before,” you lean your head on your shoulder. “likewise.” jake moves a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his thumb roam your warm skin. “if he hadn’t introduced me to you sooner, i think this night would end differently.” “and why’s that?” you inquire when jake begins to lean in. “because i wouldn’t be confident enough to kiss you.” his lips crash down onto yours—enough to knock you onto your back with his lips desperately wanting more.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who waits outside each of your classes to scare you. his hands encircle your waist as he kisses up your neck towards your cheek. his day gets a million times better simply being in your presence.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who begs you to stay in bed longer even after you’ve gone through every single one of your alarms.
“i can’t miss today, i have a presentation jake.” although relishing in his touch, you try to make an escape. keyword: try. “just let jay do it, he’ll find a way to get you a good grade.” jake hides his head deeper into your neck while wrapping all of his limbs around you. his lips leave wet kisses all over your skin knowing you’d give in.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t hide his jealousy very well. he knows you’re loyal but who’s he to say that his girlfriend isn’t attractive? jake sulks all day until you baby him, or he’ll be extremely quiet. this day happened to be the latter.
“why are you so quiet?” you frown while turning to look at jake. you were over at sunghoon’s for a movie night, like every other night, just this time sunghoon had invited a friend who was known for having a crush on you. jake shakes his head. “you know you’re always gonna be the one for me.” you whisper in your boyfriend’s ear before turning back to the movie. jake smiles into your hair, and in return, he slides his hands up your shirt drawing circles.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who says things in the heat of the moment but regrets it later on when he’s missing you late at night. you’re on the couch and he’s in the bed hugging your pillow, but your scent washed away days ago. he hates that he drove you to sleep angry, he hates the things he said, and most importantly he hates the lump in his throat.
“baby,” he trails a hand from your sleeping face to your arms. he crawls under the small throw blanket you found in your closet. “i’m sorry,” he frowns deeply and finally lets his tears fall. he curls up against your back, soaking your shirt with his sorrowful tears. you awake to his sniffles and you whip around—worried almost. “i don’t wanna be mad at each other anymore.” that night he seemed to sleep better than any other.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who dances with you in the kitchen late at night to cheer you up after a bad grade or just a bad day. he loves the way you try to hide your giggles at his terrible attempt at tango.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who finds more enjoyment in laying in your bed with a bowl of popcorn and another one of your rom-coms than getting drunk and ending up in someone’s bed.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who gives you annoying nicknames whenever you’re mad at him.
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who won’t give the time of day to any other girl.
“hey, i was wondering if i could get your number?” jake glances around before pointing to himself with a look of confusion, and when she nods, he holds up his phone with the picture of you. “i have a wife and a kid, thanks, but no thanks.” “dude, what kid?” heeseung shoves him while watching embarrassment fill the girl. “my dog!”
BOYFRIEND!JAKE who doesn’t see anyone else but you. for you, his past doesn’t exist because you weren’t in the picture, he started living when you became someone in his life.
“i don’t think i’ll ever love someone the way i love you.” jake runs his hands through your hair while you both gaze at the stars. “i’m glad i ran into that day.”
you are all he’s ever known.
© aquadios | collection
playlist : let me love you by mario, intentions by starfall, moonstruck by 엔하이픈, safety net by ariana grande
#aqua : dios#enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen oneshots#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen headcanons#enhypen timestamps#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen angst#enhypen suggestive#enhypen soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen sim jaeyun#enhypen sim jake#enhypen jake#enhypen jaeyun#sim jaeyun#sim jake#jake sim#jake enhypen#jake imagines#jake scenarios#jake drabble#jake fluff#jake fanfic
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in your newest wandanat au, something so cruel would be if reader was really drunk and came home quite cuddly and horny, and wandanat won’t fuck her when she’s that drunk and their poor little girl gas to wait til the next day (it would def be such a struggle to get her to calm down to sleep)
oh 1000% yes!
i mean reader doesn’t get drunk very often but when you do stumble back home into their house one night, you’re already fumbling with your clothes, trying to take them off. wanda catches you in the hallway, her hands grabbing onto yours.
“well isn’t this a surprise,”
she murmurs, chuckling when you drunkenly lean up on your wobbly toes to try and kiss her. “i think someone’s a little drunk,” she muses, gently placing her hands on your shoulders and holding you firmly in place.
you whine, renewing your efforts to kiss her again by trying to pull her hands off of you. “want you,” you whimper, a pout adorning your lips.
“i know sweetheart, but not right now okay?” her hand caresses the side of your face and she leans down to kiss your forehead. she wraps an arm around your form and leads you into the living room.
natasha sees you for the first time, her eyes drifting from the book she was reading up to wanda half dragging in your unsteady form. she presses her lips in a firm line, her eyebrows knitting together as she’s not happy you put yourself at such risk without her or wanda to be there for you.
wanda shoots her a warning look, one that tells her not to say anything while you’re in such a state.
“daddy,” you slur giddily as you see her sitting on the love seat, wearing a silk set pair of pajamas. you pad over to her, only tripping once as you all but fall into her lap, straddling her legs. she lets out a little “oof,” at the suddenness of your weight falling on her, her book abandoned as she grasps onto your hips, holding you steady.
“hi, little girl,” her finger traces the slope of your nose and you giggle sweetly, your hands clambering up her pajama top to try and undo the buttons.
“mommy won’t fuck me cause i’m a li-ttle drunk.. will you fuck me daddy?” your bold words take natasha back a bit. you were normally so shy, never using words like those unless you were completely desperate for them to stop teasing you.
“a little?” natasha raises her eyebrows, giving you an amused, disapproving look. her hands wrap around your wrists and pull them away when you manage to unbutton the first two on her top. you whine again as she’s the second person to try and stop you from getting what you want. you begin to grind your hips into hers, adjusting your position so you can ride her thigh.
“we’re not doing this right now, detka,” she says firmly, her hands grasping more firmly on your hips to hold you still. you frown, pursing your lips into a stubborn pout before slamming your hips forward, using all of your strength to roll your hips into natasha’s leg.
you jump when you feel a firm spank on your left ass cheek. “that’s enough,” she says firmly, and you feel you feel your body go limp, defeated. you whine again, your eyes welling up with tears as the arousal coursing currently through your body wasn’t able to be ignored.
“here baby, come and snuggle with mommy—c’mon,” wanda encourages from her place on the big sofa. it was one that had several pieces that if they were readjusted and put all together, it could be treated as a bed.
“go lay with your mommy,” natasha pats your bum, helping you maneuver off her lap. you sniffle, making your way back over to wanda. you stumble into her awaiting arms, feeling her pull you close and wrap your limbs around her. she peppers a few kisses on your cheek, one of her hands drifting down your back to gently scratch in a soothing manner.
“want daddy too,” you mumble pleadingly, glancing up from wanda’s neck to look at natasha.
natasha smiles gently, always enjoying when you get clingy like this. she gets up from her seat, plopping down next to you on the couch so you’re lying in between the two of them.
you make a satisfied noise, feeling natasha curl an arm around your waist. you immediately start to feel sleepy wrapped up in their arms like this.
just as your drifting you hear natasha whisper.
“daddy will fuck you first thing in the morning.” which was then followed by wanda saying
“after a proper spanking.”
———
if any of you haven’t yet, feel free to read part one of this new series here
#anon ask#mandy responds#wandanat#wandanat x reader#wandanat smut#wanda maximoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader
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୭ ˚.⁺⊹ .ᐟ modern!eren jaeger x reader
you begin to think that maybe it was a bad idea to bring eren to the amusement park when the small group of kids runs off with snotty noses and whining cries after losing to him at the squirt gun game.
but you just laugh, turning to him and his smug smile.
“eren, you could have at least given them a chance.”
eren shrugs, puffing his chest out. “i don’t see why, i kicked their asses.”
“they’re kids!”
“tch, they’ll have plenty of time to win, they’re young. me, though, i gotta establish my dominance.”
he makes a ridiculous show of flexing his muscles as you burst into a giggle fit. both of you have forgotten the carnie standing behind you until he clears his throat. “which prize will you be taking, sir?”
eren flushes and clears his throat, trying to regain his bearings.
“i’ll take, uh…” he glances over at you and sees you staring in awe at a giant teddy bear with a green bow-tie. “i’ll take that one. please. thanks.”
the carnie takes it off the hook and gives it to eren, returning to his place behind the counter.
“i- oof!” it’s heavier than eren expected and while it’s not exactly a brick, it’s still rather large. “who the fuck made these things so heavy?”
he hauls the bear away awkwardly to free up the game for the next round of people, you trailing close behind. you’re still staring at the bear over eren’s shoulder. he glances back over at you and stops in his tracks, eyes roaming your face.
the infuriatingly endearing curve of your mouth in a surprised ‘o’ and then quirking into an adorable smile. the way your eyes flutter shut from how wide your smile is, the slight lift of your shoulders like the happiness inside you manifested into a force that could lift you off your feet.
“here.”
your eyes go big and your cheeks tinge pink as eren holds out the bear to you. you shake your head quickly. “what? no, i can’t…i mean, you won it.”
he scoffs and clicks his tongue. “what am i gonna do with it? here, you can add it to your fuckin’ collection. don’t even lie, i’ve seen ‘em on your bed. you don’t even try to hide them.”
your cheeks flush even more pink, along with the tips of your ears. you laugh bashfully. “yeah. i guess. but i really-“
“just take it already,” eren sighs, huffing like he’s irritated but really he’s just trying to cover up his blush.
you hesitantly reach out as eren drops the bear into your arms.
he laughs when the momentum of the large bear drags you down with it, nearly collapsing like a sack of flour.
butterflies erupt in his stomach when you make a little ‘oof’ sound and try to regain your balance. eren chuckles and takes your hand in one of his own, the other reaching out to rescue to poor bear just inches away from the dirty floor.
“c’mon, you klutz,” he snorts, helping you to your feet. “i’ll carry him for you, okay?”
you shake your head in a daze. “you say that like you didn’t buckle under it when you grabbed it first, too. but thanks.”
eren just hums, hoisting the bear onto his back and taking your hand, continuing to wander the park with you.
“what’re you gonna name him? don’tcha have a whole ritual and everything?”
you giggle. “i don’t know. what does he look like his name is?”
eren pretends to think it over, glancing back at the bear smiling pleasantly at him.
“i think he looks like a ‘big pain in the ass’.”
“eren, stop it! you’re verbally abusing him,” you whine, but you’re laughing. “maybe i’ll name him armin. so he’s not mean, like you.”
“no freakin’ way you’re naming him after armin! did armin win this for you?”
“jesus, eren, just tell me to name my firstborn after you,” you snort, petting the stuffed bear between its ears.
“you definitely should. i’ll even name my firstborn after you.”
you laugh, reaching a hand up to smack playfully at eren. “who would ever put up with you long enough to marry you?”
eren catches your hand easily, intertwining your fingers and says nothing, instead smiling warmly down at you.
you would, i hope.
you take a seat on a bench, admiring the light from the sun sinking low to the horizon and washing the entire park in golden hues.
“i would,” you state firmly, and eren turns to look at you in surprise, mortified that somehow you were able to read his mind.
“huh?”
“i’d marry you,” you repeat matter-of-factly. “like if you were about to get deported, i’d marry you to keep you here. or if you had a secret uncle who left you a huge inheritance but you had to be married to get it, i’d do it. or like if we were in olden medieval times, if i had to have an arranged marriage, i’d pick you.”
eren just stares at you dumbfoundedly. “what the fuck?”
you were weird. he knew that. you’re prone to spout nonsense. it’s part of what he likes about you. in what scenario would eren be deported? he was born here. and what chance would he have of getting some huge inheritance from some relative he didn’t know? and how in the world would you ever end up in a medieval situation? but nonetheless his cheeks are still red and his heart is still beating fast. you’d pick him. he knew you didn’t explicitly mean that you’re romantically interested in him, but still, it made his heart jump in his chest to know that of everybody you knew (and that was a lot because you’re something of a social butterfly) you’d pick him. it didn’t matter for what, you would pick him.
he smiles and you beam up at him.
“i’d pick you too,” he hums, slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you close. you giggle, nuzzling your head in his neck.
it feels warm and just right, the way you fit into his arms. like maybe it was meant to be.
#i feel like eren w/out the trauma would just be stupid LMAO#i love him#modern eren has my heart#eren x reader#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger#eren yeager#eren yeager x reader#aot#aot x reader#aot fluff#eren fluff#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyojin#snk fluff#snk x reader#aot eren#kitty.writes!
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Caught Kitten
Sylus x reader
✧ How to deal with naughty kittens who don’t listen
Content: Sylus x fem!reader, vaginal sex, evol useage, switch!reader, riding
A/N: This is my first fic on this blog. I’m so excited to post. I hope you all enjoy!
You weren’t planning to give up. You had to prove to that bastard that you weren’t weak and that you were more than capable to win a simple bet like capturing a brooch. It was your third time sneaking into Sylus’ room within the past few days. Each time you’ve failed to find the brooch and it resulted with a snarky Sylus kicking you out of his room. But not tonight, you were going to find that goddamn crow brooch.
You approached the large red doors that lead into the silver haired man’s bedroom. Standing outside for a moment you inhaled a deep breath preparing for whatever may be on the other side. With a soft push of your palm against the door it opened. Cautiously you poked your head into the room, you were met with silence.
Taking soft, calculated steps you began to step foot into the room. Unfortunately for you, you failed to notice the main obstacle that was present in the room, Sylus himself. He sat on his king size bed with his head down. He sat in his signature crimson robe that unfortunately for you, hugged his body much too well. After taking a closer look you noticed that he was currently cleaning his gun. His large hand roamed over the gun as he cleaned it with a black silk handkerchief.
You prayed that he was focused enough at the task at hand that you would get a few minutes in without being kicked out. Your first stop was his bedside table. Right before you got there Sylus turned around unexpectedly and aimed the newly cleaned gun directly at you.
“Freeze.” He ordered.
You sighed already defeated and stuck your hands in the air. He approached you, gun still pointed at you. “Seems like a little kitty stumbled into somewhere she shouldn’t be once again.”
Your head drooped. “I’ll see myself out.” You turned onto your heel to leave but Sylus unexpectedly grabbed your wrist. “And who said you can leave?” His sharp red eyes starred at you as he awaited an answer.
“Well I just assumed you were going to kick me out again.”
Sylus tsked. “And I guess that means you already forgot what I said if I were to catch you sneaking into here again.” Before you could respond he began to drag you to his bed.
“W-wait!” Sylus threw you onto his bed and you landed with an “oof.”
Sylus climbed on top of you. His sharp red eyes piercing you as you were trapped underneath him. “I told you, if I were to catch you again you’d be punished.”
You scoffed, “As if being trapped here with you isn’t already punishment enough.”
“Oh sweetie, don’t say that. You’ll hurt my feelings.” The silver haired man smirked.
Flashes of black and red swirled around you and suddenly you were bound in place. Sylus used his evol to tie your hands down which left you helpless.
He grabbed your chin between his thumb and index finger as he stared at you. “Now, what will I do with you?”
You struggled against his evol even though you knew you were trapped. You laughed bitterly. “You hate me enough that this is what you resorted to?”
Sylus’ eyes narrowed dangerously at your statement. “Oh is that what you think?”
“Aren’t I right?” You scoffed.
He hummed, “I’d say it’s quite the opposite.”
He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss. It was forceful, heated even. Like he was trying to convey something.
Once he pulled away you took a deep inhale trying to catch your breath.
“Why don’t you put your claws away, kitten?”
Turning away from Sylus you hmphed at him.
Quirking an eyebrow up, Sylus spoke. “Seems like someone has some attitude today.”
The dual coloured tendrils began to slither up under your shirt. It caused the buttons to pop.
He ran his hand up your bra. “Hm, black lace. A nice choice, It suits you.” He hooked his finger in the middle of your lace bra and pulled down which caused your breasts to spill out.
You yelped in shock. “Sylus!”
The silver haired main took one of your nipples into your mouth without breaking eye contact. His sharp, ruby eyes gazed directly into yours as he sucked which caused a full body shiver. “Maybe your mouth does have another purpose other than being a cocky bastard.”
Pulling off of you with a ‘pop’ he grinned. “Careful, talk like that will only make me harder sweetie.” Taking your hand he pressed it against his robe covered groin. And he indeed wasn’t lying about that. Feeling the hardness in your hand made you clench around nothing. Clouded by arousal, your dislike for Sylus began to fade. Instead you desired him. You needed him.
“Sylus.”
“Hm?”
“Fuck me.”
He snickered, “Seems like someone had a change of heart.”
You struggled against his evol once again. “Please. If you don’t fuck me, I will.”
“Oh really?” He flicked his wrist and suddenly his evol around your wrists dissipated. “Go ahead then.”
You glared at him as you sat up. In a swift movement you crossed the bed and pushed him down. Now he laid under you with your hands at either side of his head. His silver hair laid messily against the comforter as he looked up at you. “Oh, is kitty feeling feisty tonight?”
Your hands fumbled with the knot that held Sylus’ robe together, “You said to go ahead, so I did.”
Even though you didn’t like the man’s personality, you had eyes. He was good looking with his toned body and handsome face. It pissed you off. The fact that you couldn’t deny wanting him any longer also pissed you off. Once the robe was undone your hands glided across his skin, feeling him up. Your heated gaze scanned every inch of skin, every mole and every divot of his abs.
“Like what you see, sweetie?”
“What if I do?” You retorted.
His large hands snaked up around your waist, “Then that means I can admit that I like what I see as well.”
“Sylus, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted as you reached for his cock. His tip was already leaking, clearly affected by you.
“Then don’t.”
Lining his cock up with yourself, you began to sink down on it. He was so large and thick that you were struggling to get it to all fit. “It’s so big.”
“Come on, kitten. You can do it. You’re almost there.” Sylus was grabbing your hips to help you sink down.
Sylus threw his head back in bliss as you clenched around him. “God, you feel divine.” He spoke in what sounded like a growl.
“D-do you think I can move?” You asked.
“Take your time. If you think you’re ready go ahead but don’t push yourself too hard.” He was surprisingly caring.
Once you were comfortable enough you decided to move. Slowly you pushed yourself up almost off of his cock before you sunk back down with a whine. It felt so good. You needed more. You repeated the process slowly picking up speed. Sylus watched you like a hawk, making sure to not miss any of your gorgeous facial expressions.
He was lost in the way your body moved. Mesmerized even. “You’re absolutely perfect, kitten.” His hands roamed your body. Up the sides of your hips, your breasts, your neck. Anywhere he could get his hands on. He needed to feel you.
“I think I’m going to come.” You panted as your legs were getting sore and sweat dripped down your forehead.
“Go ahead, sweetie. You deserve it.” He said as he tweaked your breast. He leaned into your ear and on his deep, husky voice he whispered “Come for me.” And that tipped you over the edge. You saw white, blinding light as you came with a cry on Sylus’ cock.
You could tell Sylus wasn’t far behind. Leaning in, you kissed him. Tangling your hot tongues together as you grinded down on his cock.
“I’m coming, kitten.” He breathed out before he came inside you The white, hot cum filling you up. You pulled away from the kiss and let out a huff of air.
Pulling of of Sylus, you flopped down beside him on the bed absolutely exhausted. The silver haired man leaned over and brushed your messy hair out of your face.
“You did very well, kitten.”
“Thanks.” You mumbled out, exhausted.
He grabbed your hand and placed something inside of it. “I think you deserve this.” Opening your hand you were met with the brooch that you’re been searching for the whole time.
“Does this mean I pass the test?” You giggled.
He hummed, “Yes, I think your…determination is rather admirable.” You felt the weight beside you on the bed leave. Looking up you saw Sylus standing above you. He slotted his arms underneath you and picked you up bridal style.
“How about a shower?”
You snuggled into his warmth with a smile. “Sounds good.”
“Snuggling into my chest, you really are like a kitten.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he said that.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fanfic#love and deepspace smut#LADS#LADS fanfic#LADS smut#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#slyus smut#lads sylus smut#fanfic
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I. haunting you, haunting me | qimir
SUMMARY -> lies, deceptions & betrayals all beneath an innocent persona but does love still hold strong?
qimir x fem! reader
masterlist | part II
GENRE -> angst, fluff & semi-nsfw
WC -> 3.93k
a/n: pogiiiii 😫😝😗
likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3
enjoy !!
you met him in one bustling day in the market in olega.
it was like any other day for you there but all changed when he had arrived. you had been doing your weekly shopping in the market, casually checking the fresh produce among the stalls. the crowd here was tight so you had squeeze in a bit to get out of the market once you had finished finding the items you needed for supper later. you sigh, trying to dodge as many people as possible but it became overwhelming when they came walking in from all sides.
“excuse- oof!” you bumped into a someone cutting off your words. you were about to apologize as you whip your head to the person you bumped into.
your eyes met instantly and the apology escaping your lips doesn’t come out.
“sorry.” the man in front of you beats you to it. he has this awkward smile on his face even though his black greasy locks concealed most of it. and the first thought that pops in your head is that… he’s cute. and the second thought coming right after immediately is does he bathe often?
your cheeks heat up realizing how long you were staring at his smile and his hair as you composed yourself. “it’s alright. i wasn’t looking, sorry. have a nice day.” you awkwardly averted your gaze from him as you made your way pass him. you could still feel his gaze at you as you walked away. you didn't know what compelled you to look back but you did, seeing that he was already gone. huh.
you thought about the stranger since that day yet you knew you wouldn’t see him again. people come and go, even the cute ones, you think to yourself. the city was big here in olega and it was a common planet for travelers, merchants or all kinds of people to land in and go.
yet you were absolutely wrong about that.
the second time you went to the market, he was there, shopping as well- or it seemed like he was browsing than shopping. it made you chuckle when a street vendor had scolded him for looking at the produce for too long. your chuckle may have went to his ears as he looked towards you, offering a small smile and a wave in which you reciprocated by smiling back at him, continuing on with your day. the anticipation lingering in the air. you thought he might be a merchant or some kind but that curiosity in you flew away as you remembered he was just a stranger here. a cute one, yes.
the third time you met him was out of coincidence really. the local apothecary that you go to despite its reputation for offering the illegal assets... they supplied you with medicinal herbs that you often use in your home cooking and personal use. and that's when you had finally got to know who this stranger is.
going in, you expected the owner greet you as usual yet you were met with the familiar greasy black locks of a man standing behind the counter. he’s wearing those loose clothing of his. he was fiddling with something in his hands, seeming to be in deep concentration until you stood in front of the counter. peering over to see what he’s toying with until he flinched when he saw you, clumsily dropping the thing he was fiddling with as he met your gaze and small your smile of amusement.
"sorry!" he places the object on the counter, still managing to topple it over as he quickly catches it and places it upright at last. he coughs, embarrassment etched across his face. "w-what can i do for you?"
"did the previous owner sell this place to you?" you asked, curiosity in your tone. the shop doesn't look new, it still looked the same as the last time you've been here. "you're new." you point out, tilting your head to the side a bit as you looked at him, as if to observe him.
"yeah, yeah- he did. i own the shop now." he lies, well in truth he does own it now. there's a nervousness in his tone but he offers that awkward smile with it. "i'm qimir. is... there anything i can do for you, valued customer?" he stretches his hand out for a friendly handshake in which you reciprocated, saying your name as well.
"i'm a valued customer already?" you laugh as he chuckles at that.
"well, if you were a valued customer before then you are still now." he shrugs as you nod at that in amusement.
"thank you then." you say as you again met his dark orbs. there's this look in his eyes you cannot decipher but yet it makes your heart soar from the way he looks at you.
"just some few medicinal herbs please." you finally requested as qimir nods, reaching under his counter as he pulls out a pouch. you pulled out some credits as qimir places the pouch down on the counter with a glint in his eyes.
"it's on the house." he pushes the credits back to you. you were about to refuse yet he shakes his head. "on the house, for a valued customer. please." his pitch lowers as he leans forward with the pouch of herbs in his hands, gesturing for you to take it. you stare at him, an overwhelming feeling surges in the air of how close he is now to you.
"that's very kind of you." you match his pitch as he smiles. "thank you, qimir."
“no problem.” he says. an impulsive thought crosses your mind, not wanting to leave it like this as you unconsciously blurt it out.
“do you like stew?”
qimir blinks, suddenly confused yet he answers “i do… yes.”
your cheeks heat up, suddenly embarrassed how random that was. “g-good. if you like, you could… you know-“ the words struggle to come past your lips of how embarrassed you are to ask him to join you for supper.
“are you asking me to join you for dinner?” qimir smiles at that.
“yes… if you’d like. my home’s not far away from here and i was hoping to make something out of these herbs.” you turn away shyly as qimir chuckles.
“no, no, no- i love to! it’s just that…” he scratches his head, shrugging. “am i not a stranger?”
you hum. “i know your name, right?”
“yeah.”
“then you’re not a stranger to me.” you said casually. he is stunned for a moment at that, how willing you are to invite him in your home. the nervousness in you arose as you ready yourself for him to say no.
“okay then.”
and maybe that’s when things started to drastically change in your mundane life here in olega. qimir, the stranger from the market, had quickly grown a budding friendship with the moment you had invited him in your home. you got know him a little bit despite the secrecy he was harboring from times. you didn’t press any further from that, you just enjoyed his company he gave you.
and maybe it did change for him as well.
you were something… beautiful yes. curious and all the ways so innocent in his eyes. you were like a shining stone in midst of all the people in this planet. he momentarily thought that this was a bad idea… accepting your invitation. he had a mission and he wasn’t risking any distractions as of now. but yet, he could not resist the stirring desire just like he didn’t resist when the darkness came to him. you were somewhat like that. something he can’t resist.
amidst his mission on this planet. you had made his lonely way come to life. he cherished how you’d offer him now to dine with you or converse with him in conversation in his apothecary. the friendship you offered him was one he enjoys now. even his pupil had seem to catch on the lingering gaze of his towards you.
“you like that woman.” mae points out, you were in the apothecary moments ago with qimir until mae had interrupted.
“what’s it to you?” he defends himself, making the poison she’s requesting to kill one of the jedis in her mission here.
“i don’t think the master would approve of that.” mae says as he scrunches the bunda leaves she provided into the serum he made.
“i’m sure he won’t mind.”
“so… you do like her-“
“shut up.” qimir rolled his eyes. yes, he likes you. dangerously so. the gnawing desire inside him grew so rapidly that the thought of mae’s mission ending soured him. the thought of leaving you in this planet. he thinks about that, wondering if you’d say yes if he asked you to leave with him. you did mention that you wanted more than your mundane life here in olega.
“i should become a collector, don’t you think?” you say randomly one time. you were in his apothecary, sitting behind the counter while he fiddled with his merchandise.
“a collector, huh?” he looks at you, wondering why.
you stand up, walking towards him to his side. “i’d get to explore planets, maybe i can sell the relics i find for credits and i won’t be bound to one place.” you hummed thoughtfully. “i think that’ll make my life exciting.”
“why not a smuggler then? or a trader?” he asks as you chuckled.
“i said exciting, qimir.” you roll your eyes at him as he smiled.
“hey, my life was exciting when i was still dealing with the hutts.” he defends.
“yes, dangerously.” you point out. “but yes, exciting.”
you were a plague in his mind. a plague that he could not handle. your smiles were so innocent, like you were the first pure thing to come across him in his whole life. something not tainted but pure in all ways that made his heart soar loudly. and he felt like he fell in deeper with you and it ached him that the time he had in this planet was ticking.
and so it did. the jedis had found out about mae and eventually him, after they interrogated him in the apothecary and he ratted his pupil out. and of course, they needed to leave the city immediately and on to the next mission.
“i’ll come back. i promise.” he clasps your hands to his one night when he visited you in your home out of the blue as he was about to flee olega with mae. “i just need to lay low for a while.”
“there’s something more to this, is there?” you ask, your brows scrunched up in confusion while your eyes didn’t hide the sadness of him leaving. you knew about mae and you knew about the whole thing with her mission and him being involved with that. yet you did not know there was something more.
“yes.” he admits, taking in your features. his chest tightening as he rubs his thumb against your skin. “i’m sorry. i promise i’ll explain when i come back from khofar.”
you stare at him, conflicted, and he doesn’t waste time to kiss your forehead, concealing the promise.
“okay.” you say sadly as you watch him leave in the dead of night.
qimir couldn’t shake that image in his head once him and mae arrived in khofar. the forests were overwhelming and his thoughts go straight to you. he ponders now, wondering if he should stop lying to you that he wasn’t just some former smuggler or apothecary owner- that he was something more and he wonders if you’d accept him, the real him.
and that thought circulates him as he’s slicing every jedi dead here from getting in his way.
his mask is broken as the padawan he stabs falls to the ground. his two red sabers gleaming in the darkness. blood is spilled everywhere. he feels alive and eager- so eager to come back to you once he’s done here. master sol’s face contorts into anguish seeing jecki had fallen. it continues with him throwing his cloak out to the jedi as he uses the force to bring mae to him as he strangles her with one hand.
“you really didn’t know it was me…” he tightens his grip as mae struggles. “not even deep down?”
a disturbance in the force causes him to light his saber up as he felt someone creeping from his side. he feels a strong pulse of the force causing mae to be thrown back away him. he sneers, seeing if it was sol yet a slash of a saber causes him to defend himself as he registers the offender in front of him.
“you…” his eyes widened as his grip on his saber tightens as you pushed yours strongly. the hue of your blue saber in contrast with his causes him to momentarily let his guard down.
you stare at him, the heat of both sabers touching your cheeks. sweats beads against your forehead as you looked him with the same look of curiosity yet mixed with determination to kill him. qimir’s eyes showed a lot of emotions yet you could distinguish one in particular…
betrayed.
“a jedi? all this time?” he huffs, pushing forward as your sabers made a sound. you don’t answer as you suddenly pushed him back with your force, causing him to hit a tree. he groans as you held your lightsaber more loosely now as you stared back at him.
“not a jedi.” you say as a flicker of emotion crosses his face. he stands up, his nostrils flaring, a mix of emotions flooding his mind. his gaze is focused on you but all the attention was now dismissed as yord tries to land a blow on him. he’ll deal with you later.
the fight ends quickly. a number of jedi had already fallen under qimir’s blade except for master sol and the twins. you’re here now, with the sun up as you kneeled before an unconscious osha as you healed her wounds with a wave of your hands, channeling the force to seal up her battered skin. mae must have escaped.
“you deceived me.” qimir says from behind.
you look back to him as you continued to mend the young girl’s small wounds. “we both did.” you merely say.
“yet you were not surprised it was me.”
“i had my thoughts.” you shrug, standing up as you drape your cloak over osha. “from the moment you started to open to me.” you turn around now to face him.
here he was, arms glistening with sweat and battered with dirt. his locks were still covering his face. his black robe suits him and you take a moment to admire him before staring back at his distrustful gaze. he steps forward, you remain in place, he takes another step and the distance between you inches closer. his eyes were searching for something in yours despite this hardened aura he gives.
in truth, you didn’t really know that he was mae’s master for the first few times you were with him. he was good at concealing it, though the longer he started to spend time with you and opened his heart slightly, you already knew- in someway. meeting with master sol and the other jedis were merely a coincidence, they had also sought you out after interrogating qimir. and when you knew they all were heading to khofar, you had to as well.
“i should kill you-“
“you can but you won’t.” you say and gently raise your hand to sweep his dark locks off his face. to really see him clearly now. qimir tenses at your actions yet relaxes as you cup his cheek with your hand. “what’s stopping you?”
“you.” he whispers, reeling in to the warmness of your palm. even though he was conflicted with the idea of you being force-sensitive and trained, he thought for a moment that you were entirely different after revealing the real you but the longer he stares at your eyes, he just finds that same innocent orbs staring back at him.
“you tried to kill me.” he points out as your hand falls down to your side.
“you were trying to kill mae and her.” you sighed as you look down to osha.
“we should get out of here. the order would want to find their fallen.” you look pass him to see the bodies of jedis you had gently draped their cloaks over them. placing their sabers on top of them. qimir looks back at it, seeing that you honored them. he doesn’t question or argue further as he nods at your advice.
・゜゜・.
the sound of waves crashing is a soothing sound that makes you relax for a bit in this unknown planet that qimir had brought you and osha on. you clutch your cloak around you, the sea breeze is cold but comforting outside the cave in which you presumed this must be his real home.
"i'm going to wash up." qimir silently says behind you as you nod at him, seeing that he has his satchel and fresh robes in his hands.
"don't go too long." you say quietly as he nods. you could still feel the uncertainty in him towards you and by the looks of his eyes, the sadness is still there. he walks away, heading towards the rocky shores. you go back in the cave, wanting to look over the unconscious osha but by the looks of it, she's stirring awake as she sits up on the bed.
"how are you feeling?" you ask gently as you pick up the water qimir provided.
"i'm fine." osha says as she accepts the cup you are offering to her as she drinks from it. by the way she looks at you, she's also uncertain if she should trust you.
"i mean no harm." you say as osha quietly nods.
"why are you with him? why am i here?" she asks, a hurt in her voice. "he killed... he killed them all and you... you defended us. why?"
"i have my reasons." you answer her. "and as for coming with him... i-" you pause, this time you don't have a really solid answer. "i don't know."
but you do know, deep inside you, you knew you couldn't resist the man.
"where is he?" osha stands up quickly. a rage in her crackles as you don't stop her from walking towards the exit.
"by the shores, washing up." you tell her as she nods. you watch her go, knowing why qimir had brought her here. and it pains you to see the young girl so conflicted with her path... just like you had before. the desire of freedom.
you leave osha and qimir to discuss themselves in their matters as you went ahead to the lagoon where qimir had bathed, needing a bath for yourself. placing your saber, well your master's lightsaber on your discarded robes, you dip in the cool sea water. you shiver, the rocks beneath your feet made your steps in the water a bit wobbly but as you dunk your whole body in, the relief washes over your tired body.
"it's rude to stare." you call out, turning around to see qimir by the shores. you smile at him as he chuckles. he was dressed in a cream loose tunic, with his hair still damp. his eyes roam over your figure in the water and you feel like you're more bare with the way his eyes are on you.
"you're beautiful." he says silently, not bothering to tear away his gaze from your body.
"thank you." you hum. "you're not so bad yourself." you tease.
"osha wonders what or who you are..." he begins, sitting by the big rock near your robes. "and i find myself asking the same."
"i'm not a jedi..." you begin with the obvious. "my master was but he longed departed with the order. i was trained in olega in secrecy until my master passed." you say sadly as he nods in understanding.
"why didn't you tell me?"
"and why didn't you tell me you're a sith?" you countered as he hums at that. "if you asked, i would've answered." you answer his question.
"i was going to tell you... i promised you an explanation." he says as you nodded.
"why osha?" you ask now, curious with his answer.
"i need a pupil. an acolyte." he answers, a desperation in his tone.
"the rule of two was it?" his head shoots up to that. "my master didn't hinder his teachings about the other path, qimir."
"yes." he nods. "the power of two."
"you know this isn't osha's path. i do not wish to interfere but-"
"that is jedi of you to say. what do you know of osha's path? her anger, her fear, her pain, she'll embrace it once she's accepted for who she really is." he strongly says as you sighed, walking towards the shore as qimir's gaze follows your every move.
"i do not know her path, yes, neither do you. she will only know it herself." you say strongly. "but that doesn't mean you have to sway her with your influence. your familiarity with what she's dealt with."
qimir stands up quickly from where he sat as he comes near you. "i've learned to accept my darkness. i see potential in her than her sister. i thought mae wanted the same as i did. revenge. but osha... osha knows."
"you thought so." you mirrored his words as you feel his breath tingle on your cheeks of how close he is. "give the girl time to understand. if she wishes to become your pupil, then so be it."
"what of you?" he asks now as you raise a brow.
"what do you want from me?" he asks again, the confusion in him of why you chose to stick around has made him feel in daze.
"qimir..." you're about to part from him but he grips your bare hips, holding you close. "i don't know." you whisper as you gaze into his eyes. water drips down your back as you hold yourself steady by placing your hands on his chiseled chest.
"you don't know?" he whispers back as his gaze flicks from your eyes to your open lips.
"i don't..." you huff, the swimming desire in you igniting as he smirks.
"maybe i don't need an acolyte..." he says thoughtfully as he presses against making you shiver. his hand roam to your hips up to your waist. "an equal, perhaps?"
the tension breaks as he locks your lips with yours with such fervor and desperation, it makes your head dizzy as you reciprocated back with much eagerness. you moan into his mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him in for more. your body feels like molten lava from the way he's holding you. the subtle arousal in you peaks as you feel his press hard against your stomach. it ignites you. the answer you refuse to tell is as evident as your desire for him. you break away for a moment as an emotion crosses qimir's face. underneath the lies, deceptions and betrayals... was it desire and... love?
"from the moment i met you in that market, i just knew..." you confessed. "i just knew i wanted you."
his heart soars, beating loudly as he presses his forehead against yours as he whispers back with much devotion.
"and i you."
・゜゜・.
part two for the real boinking? ;)
#qimir x reader#qimir#qimir x fem!reader#the stranger x reader#the stranger#manny jacinto#the acolyte#fnhrlcllnwrites#eri’s favorites 💌 ∘°∘♡∘°∘#Spotify
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episode five: the nina project
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.” “Five more minutes?” “Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home. Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
Summary: you and dustin steal pancakes to spite ted wheeler, steve just wants one morning of peace, nancy takes you to a haunted house, cobwebs are surprisingly intimate to remove from someone, and vecna decides to play flashlight tag with everyone. hes so sweet :)
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: mentions of blood, panic attack, , swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hey gang ! i present chapter 5, aka my least favorite ep of season 4 </3 however, she was very fun to write and i enjoyed twisting some scenes together ;) enjoy, thank yall for waitin !
–
“Hey, bee.”
The line is quiet.
You sound tired, you know Jonathan will hear the exhaustion in your voice, and he’ll worry.
“I, uh. I miss you.” And you do.
You’re in the Wheeler’s kitchen, Nancy and the others are down in the basement, trying to pretend that tonight they’ll fall asleep. The reality is that you’re all too afraid to fall asleep. The terror of what could happen in the dark ensures this.
Steve sits on the counter across from you. He stares down at his hands, picks at his nails. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to tell Jonathan. When you demanded to call him, Steve had originally denied you. He didn’t understand why you’d want to talk to him or why you’d risk not having your walkman on after what happened with Max.
But then you’d broken down into tears and Steve gave in.
“Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while.” To think that four days without hearing Jonathan’s voice is now considered a while saddens you. For years you couldn’t go more than a few hours without his voice. “But, um. It’s been… it’s been awful, without you.”
I could die tomorrow and I can’t remember what your hand felt like within mine.
A tear falls down your face and you wipe it away. You’re so tired of crying. “I don’t… I don’t know how much you remember, the last time we spoke. I just-I’ve had the worst week of my life and I could really use your voice right now.”
Jonathan is still the one you run to. He always will be.
The line remains quiet.
“Please, can you just… call me? I–” breath catching in your throat, you choke on the words that simmer on your tongue. “I’m really scared, bee.”
This is the first time you’ve ever spoken the words out loud. They’re whispered, they come out hushed, as if afraid someone will overhear and call you weak.
The voicemail line beeps, indicating that you’ve used up all your time to record the message. Numb, you place the phone against the wall.
Steve looks up, sensing the conversation as drawn to a close. He stands up and wraps you in his arms. You’re cold to the touch. It unnerves him. You’ve always been so warm, so full of heat. “Did he… what did Jonathan say?”
Your head drops against his chest. “He didn’t answer. Voicemail.”
“Oh.”
The silence drags on a painfully long time. You reside in Steve’s arms, seeking comfort in whatever touch you allow from him. Your headphones, which rest against your neck, dig into Steve’s uncomfortably. Clearing his throat, he taps them with his finger. “Music?”
You nod, too tired to fight him. Ever since the cemetery, Steve and Dustin have insisted that you never take your headphones off. Music is what saved Max; they’re convinced they can keep you out of harm’s reach if you listen to your favorite song as well.
“The tape, please?” You mumble softly to Steve, slowly lifting your arm to point to the kitchen table.
Understanding what you’re asking, he quickly lets go of you to retrieve it. Grabbing the old tape, his fingers find your walkman buried in your pocket. Steve puts the tape inside, eyes skimming over the writing that resides on it.
For bug.
“Will you ever tell Nancy?” He finds himself asking, unaware that the question had even been on his mind.
It was only days ago that Steve’s biggest problem had been Jonathan’s vague question of “what if”. Now he stands in Nancy’s kitchen, cradling your body, wondering just how many more hours he has left with you.
You rub your head tiredly. “I will, it’s just…”
I could be dead by tomorrow.
The words go unsaid, hanging in the air between you and Steve.
He stares down at you. Guilt twists in his chest. He’s caught between you and Nancy, between saving you and sparing you. A strand of hair falls in your eyes. Steve brushes it aside, his cracked lips press against your forehead.
“Hey,” Lucas stands awkwardly by the kitchen counter. He looks between you and Steve, a sad, yet nervous look in his eyes. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Max told me to come get you, Y/N.”
“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, stepping out of Steve’s arms.
Lucas sees your worry and immediately raises his hands. “She’s fine, she’s just five seconds away from murdering Dustin. He keeps trying to turn her music all the way up and it’s hurting her ears.”
A ghost of a smile crosses your face. In his own, albeit flawed way, Dustin is trying to show how much he cares for you and Max. “I’ll talk to him.”
While Lucas nods with relief, you kiss Steve’s cheek and wish him a soft goodbye. The two boys are left alone in the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler have long since gone to bed. Holly, too.
Steve clears his throat. Lucas hasn’t left yet, and Steve doesn’t really know what to do. It’s been an exhausting few days. All he wants to focus on right now is you; already your absence makes his body weak.
“How do you do it?” Lucas is so quiet that Steve almost doesn’t hear him at first.
“What?”
“How do you do it?” Lucas asks again, this time with more urgency in his voice. He’s looking at Steve, his body stoic. There are tears in his eyes, though Steve doesn’t say anything. “How can you love Y/N and not want her to die?”
The question stuns Steve.
Lucas stares up at him and for a moment he looks like the twelve year old kid he met all those years ago. Only now he’s fifteen, taller than ever before, and he’s experienced more loss than any kid ever should.
Steve forgets, sometimes. How young they all are.
He sighs. “Look, Lucas–”
“I don’t think I can do it.” The boy leans against the counter, his entire body weight threatens to collapse. “I just, I love Max so much. And seeing her today… she almost-she almost–”
Lucas inhales suddenly. He doesn’t allow himself to cry, he doesn’t want Max to see the tear stains later. He shakes his head, instead. “What do you do, when the person you live for is already set on dying?”
Steve wants to tell him that you and Max aren’t dying. He wants to tell the teen that they’ve faced worse monsters than Vecna. They’ve escaped Russian lairs and navigated tunnels rooted with poisonous particles. They saved Will, closed a gate that was an endless abyss.
But none of it amounts to the loss they’d feel if you and Max died; Lucas is the only one who truly understands this.
So Steve doesn’t lie to him.
Instead, he says, “You hold their hand.”
And that’s all they can do.
–
Everyone takes turns watching over you and Max that night. It was Nancy’s idea, one you were entirely against.
“Max is the one who had the vision, I don’t need you guys–”
“Shut up, Y/N.”
The argument was over before it even really began. Dustin had shoved your headphones back on and turned the volume so high that you nearly winced. Steve laughed before dragging you over to the couch and forcing you to lay with him.
“I’ll be first watch for Y/N.”
Robin had rolled her eyes. “I know death is like, totally evident. But you disgust me.”
Soft laughter rippled through everyone, but soon the shadows fell and night took over. Despite your protesting and insistence that the Beatles would keep you up all night, you somehow fall asleep against Steve’s chest.
It’s the first time you’ve slept through the night in weeks.
–
You wake up to Nancy shouting at Dustin.
“Then where is she?” She exclaims, shaking his shoulders.
Still half asleep, it takes you a few moments to understand what’s going on. “Where’s who?” You ask through a yawn, rubbing your eyes.
“Max!” Nancy glares at your brother. “She isn’t down here, Dustin was supposed to keep watch.”
Your heart stops. Immediately you sit up, ignoring Steve’s groaning as you forcefully shove against his chest to stand. Even though you roughly pull from his grasp, he’s back asleep in seconds. “What do you mean she isn’t here?”
“I swear I just dozed off for like…” Dustin looks down at his watch, worried and guilty, and his face pales when he realizes what he’s done. “An hour.”
“Dustin!” You screech, now panicking as well. Before he can say anything else, you’re already running up the steps to find Max. Nancy follows close behind. “I swear to God, if she’s hurt–”
Max sits at the dining room table, head down with her headphones on. You and Nancy let out heavy sighs of relief while Dustin rolls his eyes in annoyance.
Mrs. Wheeler greets you in the kitchen. “Good morning, guys!” When she notices you holding your chest, she frowns slightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Nancy breathes out, her own nerves finally settling. “Everything’s… okay.”
“Very okay.” You chime in, forcing a happy smile on your face. Pointing to the pancakes on the stove, you hum with gratitude. “Especially now that I know you’ve made your famous pancakes, Mrs. Wheeler.”
“Aw, you’re very kind, Y/N.” The woman gushes. She grabs a plate and starts piling the pancakes on. “Here, take as many as you’d like. You know, I think it’s sweet that you guys are sticking together like this.”
Mr. Wheeler flicks his newspaper with a huff. “Could try sticking together at a different house for a change.”
Nancy ignores her father and walks towards where Max is sitting. You and Dustin share a look, both of you despise the man. Shoving a pancake into your mouth, you moan dramatically. “But where else would I get such fantastic food, Ted?”
He glares at you while Mrs. Wheeler chuckles. “You know you kids are welcomed here anytime.”
“Totally, you’re like family.” Dustin smiles kindly at her before pointing to the remaining, untouched pancakes. “May I?”
Mrs. Wheeler readily offers your brother a plate and he eagerly starts stacking as much as food as he can. You grab a few more pancakes for yourself; they’ve always been your favorite. Mr. Wheeler notices you grabbing more and he narrows his eyes. “Yeah, why not? Take us for all we’re worth.”
“You heard the man.” You nod at Dustin, catching his eye.
Understanding immediately, your brother smiles even wider. “Okay!”
Together, the two of you grab the remaining stack of pancakes and throw them onto your plates. Mr. Wheeler watches in disdain, his coffee cup raised just before his mouth. Seeing the mug, you gasp. “Oh! Mrs. Wheeler, could I possibly bother you for some coffee as well? I know Mr. Wheeler really values his expensive roast, but with everything happening this week…”
You stare up at the woman, eyes wide and innocent. Mrs. Wheeler places a hand against her heart and coos at you. “Oh, of course you can have some of Ted’s coffee, honey. Let me fix it right up for you.”
“You’re too kind.” You thank her, shoving yet another pancake into your mouth. Speaking through the food, you turn to her husband. “Thanks, Ted!”
Dustin snickers while the man clenches his jaw. Satisfied, you make your way over to the table and join Max and Nancy.
“Holly let me borrow some of her crayons.” Max explains as you sit down. There are papers scattered all over the table. “We’ve been having fun all morning, right, Holly?”
The young girl hums in agreement, not looking up from her Lite Brite. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hey, Holly.” You pinch her cheek, causing her to giggle. It’s rare to see Holly outside of the Wheeler house. You’ve babysat her a few times over the years, and she enjoys the cookies you make, but your interactions have always been limited. She seems to like you though, which pleases you. “Can I draw as well?”
Holly nods enthusiastically and quickly hands you a crayon and paper. “Here!”
“Thank you,” you accept the blue crayon and start to doodle something, keeping the girl distracted. As she colors with you, you finally look at the drawings that litter the table.
When your eyes land on them, you forget how to breathe for a moment. They’re horrible, filled with blood red. Ruined landscapes surround bodies wrapped in vines. The figures are twisted, disjointed.
“You drew these, Max?” The thought terrifies you.
“Is this what you saw last night?” Nancy asks softly, her expression mirrors your horrified one.
Max shifts uncomfortably. “It’s supposed to be. I, uh. Thought it’d be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but… not so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out, reaching across the table to grab her hand.
Nancy touches one of the drawings, this one depicting Fred’s and Chrissy’s corpses. “Is that…?”
“It was like they were on display or something.”
You nearly gag. “Oh, my God.”
Max doesn’t look at you. “And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare.”
Nancy asks if Vecna could just be trying to scare her, but Max doesn’t seem sure. She explains how he originally used Billy, but last night felt different. “He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there.”
You frown at this. “Then that would mean Fred and Chrissy never made it to wherever you were. That Vecna didn’t take them there.”
“Maybe you infiltrated his mind.” Dustin offers as an explanation, now joining at the table. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?”
“It makes sense,” you bite your lip, abandoning the drawing you were working on with Holly.
“Like Freddie Krueger’s boiler room.” Dustin adds, oddly excited about the idea. When Holly doesn’t understand the reference, your brother readily explains. “He’s a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers.”
“Dustin,” you try to get his attention, worried he’ll frighten the kid.
But of course he continues. “And he kills you in your dreams–”
“Dustin.” It takes smacking his head to finally shut him up. He yelps in pain, cowering, but you glare at him. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”
“She wanted to know about Freddie Krueger!”
“She’s a kid.”
“But–”
You hit Dustin’s shoulder this time. “Apologize and tell Holly that Freddie Krueger isn’t real.”
After begrudgingly apologizing to Holly and explaining that it’s all just a movie, Dustin adjusts his hat and continues the conversation from earlier. “Anyways, just think about it. What if Max somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna’s world?”
“You mean, like another gate?” You’re so tired of goddamn gates.
Dustin shrugs. “Possibly? Who knows, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing.” He stares down at the picture he’s picked up and scowls. “God, we need Will.”
“For his artistic abilities or his connection to the Upside Down?” You ask, looking around the table. “Because either way, I agree.”
Max shakes her head, annoyed. “I tried calling them again this morning, but it’s the same busy signal.”
“I wasn’t able to get through last night, either.” You admit, watching with slight curiosity as Nancy starts compiling all the drawings. “Anything catching your eye, Wheeler?”
“Is this a window?” She asks Max, who quickly says yes. “Stained glass with roses?”
Max perks up. “Yeah. See? I’m not so terrible after all.”
Sipping your coffee, you wave the mug at her, unconvinced. “Your composition could use some work.”
She glares at you, but Nancy doesn’t pay attention to any of it. Instead, she starts sorting through the drawings with vigor. “Well, it helps that I’ve seen it before.”
Before anyone can question what she means, Nancy starts folding pieces together and arranging them. At first you’re confused. You don’t understand what she’s trying to do. But as the pieces start to take shape and you recognize what she’s doing, you drop your crayon in shock.
“It’s pieces of a house.” Max realizes as well.
“Holy shit…”
Nancy grabs a marker and outlines the house’s shape. She fills in the windows, adds details that she shouldn’t know about. “Not just any house.”
She folds another drawing, careful with its edges. The drawing becomes a clock, its center the rose stained glass. Nancy drops the folded up grandfather clock in the center of the house she’s created. It lands with a quiet, yet final, thud.
Seeing the house unnerves you, and you shiver slightly. Nancy notices your unease and her eyes soften with dread. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You suck in a breath and Nancy is already leaving the table. Dustin looks at you, confused, before calling out to her. “Where’re you going?”
“To wake the others.”
“I just wanted pancakes,” you mumble sadly, quickly shoving the breakfast aside so that you can follow after Nancy.
She’s already shaking Lucas awake by the time you catch up. Robin is slouched against the coffee table and you take pity on her. Nudging her softly, you ease her awake. “Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
“Why does my neck hurt?” She groans, eyes still closed.
You laugh. “Because you decided to sleep against a table, dummy.”
“Why’d you let me do that?”
“Blame Steve, not me.” You kiss her forehead, leaving her to wake up more on her own. Nancy has finally managed to rouse Lucas, so you turn to where Steve still sleeps soundly on the couch. He looks so young when he sleeps. His delicate features aren’t clouded by the worry he always seems to carry with him.
The morning sun seeps through the only window in the basement and basks against Steve’s face. He’s a warm honey-orange in the glow, and your chest constricts in a sickly sweet way that you’ve come to love. Walking over to him slowly, you press yourself against him and litter kisses across his face.
Steve scrunches his nose, surprised by your sudden body heat. “Y/N?”
“Nancy may have connected Victor Creel and Vecna.” You tell him in lieu of good morning.
He opens his eyes, blinking a few times as he yawns. You don’t think he’s heard you, he’s never been a morning person. “What…?”
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home.
Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
You know that Nancy will be upset you’re taking so long, you know you should be next to Max, making sure her headphones are on, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from Steve. You know you’ve asked so much from him lately; expected more from Steve than you know he’s willing to give you. And so, for now, you indulge him, risking a kiss before the others see.
Steve kisses you back; he always kisses you back. His lips move against yours, languid and slow, and for a moment everything is okay again between you.
–
“Nancy, you know I trust your judgment,” you poke your head through the trunk’s gap and find the girl’s eyes in the rearview mirror. You’re in the back of the car with Steve and Dustin while Nancy drives. “But do we really have to do this?”
“It’s the only way we’ll get answers.” She sighs, although she also looks uneasy as her car comes to a stop. Nancy parks and everyone silently gets out.
In front of you is an old, dilapidated house. Its shutters are boarded up, the blue paint has long since chipped away and rusted over. The yard before it is a mess; weeds grow everywhere and old debris litters the green. No one has touched this house in years, maybe even decades.
“The Creel house,” you murmur to yourself. The wind around you picks up, a chill hangs in the air. Every nerve inside your body stands on edge, screaming at you to run away. There’s something ominous, dangerous even, about this house.
You don’t like any part of this.
“Yeah, that’s not creepy.” Steve voices what everyone is thinking.
Max sees your discomfort and she nudges you softly. “Hey, it’s just a stupid house.”
Shame washes over you. Max shouldn’t be the one offering comfort. It should be you reassuring her, not the other way around. Swallowing thickly, you nod at the girl before following the others.
When you get closer to the house, it becomes clear that you’ll have to break in. A padlock rests against the boarded up door. Nails are rusted into its wood, sealing the horrors within the house. Steve groans. “Oh, joy.”
“I brought hammers, we can try to pry the nails out.” Nancy says, as if it’s perfectly normal to bring hammers with you to a haunted house.
“Of course you brought hammers.”
Nancy ignores you and runs back to the car, quickly returning with the tools. She hands one to Steve, who wastes no time digging into the nails and pulling them out of the wood. Nancy joins him, but it’s an achingly slow process.
“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve grunts, pulling off yet another nail.
“We’re not sure,” Nancy admits, wincing slightly at a particularly difficult nail. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”
“Sure, so let’s bring Max and Y/N to a place from Vecna’s red soup mind world.”
You flick Steve’s head, sending Nancy an apologetic frown. “He’s just upset he couldn’t sleep in today.”
“Maybe the house holds a clue to where Vecna is.” Dustin suggests. “Why he’s back, why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max, or before he tries to go after Y/N.”
“We’re stopping him before he comes back for Max.” You remind everyone, an edge in your voice.
The group is quiet for a moment. Steve and Nancy share a concerned look with one another, something unspoken passes between them. The look upsets you, but you don’t have time to care. Eventually the silence becomes too much for Lucas, and he hesitantly asks if anyone thinks Vecna is actually inside the house.
“Guess we’ll find out.” Max says, looking at you briefly. The last nail falls, and together Steve and Nancy pull the board off the doorframe. It lands with a loud thud on the porch, sending fallen leaves and dirt into the air.
You cough. “Christ.”
“Sorry, angel.” Steve looks remorseful, but you wave him off. He faces the door and twists the knob. It doesn’t budge. “Should I knock, see if anybody’s home?”
“No need,” Robin calls out, and it’s only then that you realize she’s no longer beside you but rather halfway in the front yard. She’s holding up a brick, a wicked smile on her face. “I found a key.”
“Oh dear God.” Your eyes widen. Steve tugs at your jacket as soon as Robin throws the brick. You fall against his chest, heart pounding. The stained glass shatters. Poking your head through the broken glass, you breathe out. “Nice, Robin.”
She bows. “I try.”
Steve gently pushes you aside so that he can reach his arm through the hole. He’s careful not to touch the jagged edges of the glass. Finding the knob on the other side, he twists it roughly, unlocking the door.
He’s the first to go in, and he lets out a low whistle. “Jesus.”
You follow after him, turning your flashlight on in the process. The stench of mildew is what you notice first. It’s poignant, intermixed with the scent of dust and discarded furniture. The house is filthy, covered in cobwebs; it’s practically frozen in time.
Lucas tries to turn a light on, but it’s useless. Everyone turns their flashlights on, and Steve looks around, bewildered. “Where’d everyone get those?”
Dustin turns to him and lets out a surprised huff when he realizes Steve doesn’t have anything in his hands. “Do you need to be told everything? You’re not a child.”
Steve stares at him and you roughly hit your brother’s chest. He can be such a jerk sometimes, you don’t understand where this shift has come from. “Don’t be such an asshole.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” Steve accepts the spare flashlight you hand him while Dustin rubs the spot where you hit him, tossing his bag to the ground.
You walk deeper into the house, scanning your flashlight over the furniture strewn throughout. Draped cloth covers them. A mirror stands before you, its frame a rusted gold. You find a girl in its reflection, and for a moment you almost don’t recognize that it’s you.
“Hey, guys?” Max calls out to everyone, catching your attention. She’s standing in front of something, an uneasy look on her face. “You all see that, right?”
She’s pointing her flashlight at a grandfather clock. You stumble back when you see it, breath catching. The bones in your body scream at you to run away. “Is that…?”
You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, but Max understands anyways. She nods, eyes never leaving the grandfather clock, silently confirming that it’s the one she saw in her vision.
“I don’t like this.” You turn to the group. None of you should be here, you had no right to enter the abandoned house.
“C’mon, Y/N. I mean, it’s just a clock, right?” Robin shrugs half-heartedly. Before you can stop her, she steps closer to it and wipes her hand against its glass. Dust smears away. “Just an old clock.”
Steve isn’t convinced. “Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?”
“Please don’t call him a wizard.” If you’re going to die, you’d rather it be at the hand of some dangerous, other dimensional creature. Not a wizard.
“Sorry, but what if he’s like, I don’t know. A clockmaker or something?”
Dustin breathes heavily through his nose. “I think you cracked the case, Steve.”
“All I know is that the answers are here.” Nancy looks around, not sounding as convincing as she’d like. “Somewhere.”
“You really want us to stay here?” You ask her, slight resentment in your voice. You trust Nancy, you always have, but something feels wrong about all of this. There’s this voice, screaming in your head, to get out. To leave, never return; the voice won’t leave, and you’re afraid it’ll rip your skull to pieces soon.
Nancy offers you a reassuring smile. She understands your fear, that she’s asking a lot from you and Max right now. She’s placed you in the heart of the monster that wants you to die. “Everyone will stick together, no one will be alone. We’ll stay in groups. I promise.”
“But–”
“Robin, upstairs.” Nancy instructs, pointing towards the steps for the girl to follow her. They’re gone in seconds, already off on their own adventure yet again. Your throat feels gummy with fear.
Max grabs Lucas’ hand and rushes off without another word. Steve and Dustin are left with you. They exchange words, bickering about something, though you don’t process what they’re saying. They wander off somewhere, unaware that you’re lost in your panic. Breath spiking rapidly, your muscles tense together, prepared to run. You need to leave. This isn’t safe. You’re going to die.
Light headed, you blindly fall against the stairs behind you. You’re struggling to breathe, the room spins. Desperate, your head falls towards your knees. Curling into yourself, you try to steady your breathing. You think you’re having a panic attack.
In through your nose.
Out through your mouth.
Except your breath gets stuck in your throat and blood drips from your nose. Frantic, you harshly wipe at your face, smearing the blood even more.
Your first nosebleed. Another one of the symptoms. No one can know about this.
The grandfather clock looms over you; it taunts you.
“Hey, Dustin. You there?” A voice breaks through your panicked haze. “Remember me?”
They’re familiar. You know the person, you know you do. Carefully, you lift your head up. Looking around, you try to find the source of the voice.
“Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think I might be in a bit of trouble here.”
It’s Dustin’s bag.
“Wheeler? Anybody?”
“Eddie?” You rasp, barely able to pronounce his name. Your mouth is numb, your body still stuck in its terrified state. You have to press the walkie close to your lips, too weak to say anything else.
“Henderson?” While Eddie is relieved someone answered him, he’s surprised that it’d been you. “Can you-can you get your brother? I’m kinda in deep shit.”
Your stomach twists at the anxiety in his voice. “He’s not with me.”
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jason–” Static comes through, cutting off whatever Eddie is trying to tell you. “They-it’s not–”
The static intensifies. You hit the walkie, frustrated. “Hello?”
“–Boat and I think–” Eddie cuts in and out in a dizzying manner. “Here, and they’re–holes!”
“Holes?” None of what he’s saying makes any sense. “Boats? Are you-are you trying to tell me that there are holes in the boat?”
“No!” Eddie screeches, but then the broadcast goes out completely.
You stare down at the walkie, brows knit together in confusion. “What the fuck?”
But Eddie doesn’t respond. It’s quiet again.
With a huff, you toss the walkie back into Dustin’s bag and sling it over your shoulder. At the very least, the bizarre conversation with Eddie was enough to pull you out of whatever spiral you’d been in. Steve and Dustin will be looking for you soon, probably even send out a search party if you don’t follow them upstairs.
“‘The world is full of obvious things,’” Dustin’s horrible British accent greets you when you finally find him upstairs. He’s standing with Steve in a random room, though the older teen doesn’t look particularly pleased. “‘Which nobody by any chance ever observes.’”
Steve looks at your brother as if he’s grown a second head. You lean against the doorway, smiling slightly. “It’s a Sherlock Holmes quote, Steve.”
Both boys whip their heads around to face you. Dustin looks shocked, while Steve looks like he’s seconds away from strangling you. “Were you-were you alone?”
“Dude, how could you?” Dustin shoves his chest, already blaming him for abandoning you. “You know we can’t just leave her alone, she’s practically patient zero!”
Steve slaps Dustin’s hands away and reels back to yell at him, but you step between them. “Okay, first of all, I’m cursed. Not infectious. Second of all, you both wandered off without me, but I’m not a goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, but–”
You hold up your walkman up to Dustin’s face, shutting him up. “I also have this, in case you two idiots forgot.”
“That’s great,” Steve responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s real great. Totally reassuring that your life rests in a walkman.”
“Take it or leave it, Harrington.”
“Actually, can we go back to you knowing Sherlock Holmes? I’m dating a nerd. That can’t be good for my image.”
Dustin snorts. He pats Steve’s chest, already walking away. “Yeah, okay, buddy. Your ‘image’.”
Steve scoffs at him and you pull the two boys away. “Stop being annoying, we’re supposed to be looking for clues or whatever the hell Nancy told us to do.”
No one argues, and the three of you split up. Dustin wanders towards one side of the room, you make sure to keep an eye on him as he looks around. You go with Steve, following him to the other side.
A vent catches Steve’s eye. He nods towards it, alerting you of it as well. You shrug, indifferent. He bends down, opening it to reveal a collection of jars with twigs and debris inside. You make a face. “Gross.”
Steve reaches inside, picking up one of the jars. He brings it closer, aiming his flashlight to illuminate its contents. When the light reveals dead spiders inside, your heart lurches fearfully. You’re fucking terrified of spiders.
And then, naturally, one begins crawling up Steve’s arm.
You scream, your fear alerting him of the insect. Steve drops the jar and quickly swats at his shoulder, stumbling backwards. He’s freaking out, so are you. You’re hitting his shoulder as you scream, stuck between wanting to help him and wanting to leave him for dead.
“Stop!” You screech, falling backwards as well.
Steve doesn’t hear you, breaking through the doorway, before the two of you collide into another body. “Woah!”
Nancy’s arm steadies you, concern etches her face. “What’s wrong?”
“There was a spider,” Steve speaks for you, panting. He knows your fear of the creature. He brushes at his jacket, as if he can still feel it crawling upon him. “It was a black widow.”
Your heartbeat is in your chest. Looking at the door you crashed through, you topple forward and slam it shut. “Fuck this room.”
“That bad, huh?” Nancy can’t hide her laugh. She feels bad that you had to experience a black widow, but your almost childish reaction amuses her.
“Fuck spiders.” Is all you can say.
Nancy starts to laugh again, but stops mid-way. “Oh, oh no.” Her hand reaches towards Steve, her fingers find his hair.
Steve flinches away, both from shock that she’s even touching him and from the idea that there’s something residing in his hair. “Is there something? Shit, okay.” He instinctively moves towards you, freaking out, but Nancy gently chides him.
“Stop moving, come here.” She stands behind him now, her fingers still in his hair. Softly tussling the strands, you watch as she gently plucks a cobweb. “I got it.”
It’s the way her voice softens when she speaks to Steve, the delicate way her fingers course through his hair as if she’s always done this. You suppose, in a way, that the delicacy comes from practiced ease. She used to do it all the time.
Unable to stop yourself, you raise your eyebrows. Something twinges in your chest. An icey, red hot feeling that you despise.
Nancy must sense that she’s upset you, because she awkwardly clears her throat and snatches her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, fearful she’s crossed a line.
Steve steps away, already back by your side.
“If there’s a spider in Steve’s hair, you’re never gonna find it until it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” Robin suddenly appears, cackling at her own joke.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve hisses at her, patting his head, now slightly paranoid.
Robin leaves just as suddenly as she arrived, her laughter echoing in the hallway. Steve looks at you, and you merely shrug. “It’s Robin, what can you expect?”
“She’s got problems.” He huffs. When Nancy agrees, Steve jumps at the opportunity to lessen the iciness he feels between you and her. He wishes things were how they used to be, back before feelings complicated everything. “It’s, uh. Cool that you and Robin are friends now.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything, and you busy yourself with running your hands over the expanse of Steve’s back. You do it because you’re worried Nancy may have missed a few cobwebs, though a part of you knows that you also do it to show her that you can. That Steve allows your touch, leans into it.
“Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world and stuff, maybe we can all go out or something?” Steve knows it’ll never happen, but he still says it anyways. It’s his way of extending friendship to Nancy, proving to her that there aren’t any hard feelings. “A long overdue double date, you know? You, me, Y/N, and Jonathan when he’s back.”
Jonathan’s name slips from Steve’s mouth before he can stop it. He knows he’s made a mistake.
You look away from him, the guilt of remembering Jonathan’s words. His dangerous reminiscing, how you still haven’t told Nancy.
And Nancy looks away because she’s reminded of her problems with Jonathan. The distance that has grown between them. How it feels like they haven’t been on the same page for a long, long time now.
“I’d-I’d like that.” You finally say, the words bitter.
Nancy nods, her own uncomfortable expression mirroring yours. “Yeah, totally.”
Neither of you sound convincing. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye. You can’t bear to look at Nancy because of the overwhelming guilt. Nancy can’t bear to look at you because you’re Jonathan’s best friend.
“We can bring Robin on the date!” Steve is desperate to break the tension. He hates it, he hates that Jonathan has created a chasm that he can’t cross. “I’m sure she’d love to join.”
Thankfully Nancy laughs. “Why would she want to third wheel?”
“Who says Robin would be the third wheel?” You say, relieved by the change in topic. “She’d be my date, obviously. Steve would be the third wheel.”
“Obviously.” Steve rolls his eyes, though there’s fondness in his voice that Nancy doesn’t miss.
You pick the last of the cobwebs off of him. Running your fingers through Steve’s hair one last time for good measure, you poke his cheek. “You’re officially cobweb free, by the way. We should probably get back to searching the house.”
“‘The obvious things are not what people observe,’” He catches your hand as it falls, squeezing it. “Or-’don’t observe’?”
Steve’s cute little frown warms you. He’s trying to impress you, quoting what your brother had only a few minutes ago. You squeeze his hand back, your cheeks warming as you smile up at him. “‘The world is full of obvious things by which nobody by any chance ever observes.’ You were close.”
“Thanks, angel. I would’ve gotten it eventually.”
“You would’ve.”
The tenderness that Nancy sees in Steve’s eyes burns. The way you’re smiling at him, the softness underneath your voice. She sees the way you squeeze the other’s hand. It makes her ache; she misses holding Jonathan’s hand.
–
You stand underneath a chandelier, its lights flickering. The sight is a familiar one. Flickering lights have become a part of your nightmares.
Max and Lucas had called everyone over to where they were. They’d found the lights that way.
“It’s the Christmas lights all over again.” You don’t know why you’re whispering, but it feels wrong not to.
Nancy nods in agreement, but Robin leans forward. “Christmas lights?”
“When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Nancy explains, staring up at the way the chandelier flickers now.
“It’s how we knew he was alive.” Your chest tightens at the memory. You’ll never forget the dread you felt, realizing that Will was alive, yet trapped somewhere you could never reach.
Lucas clenches his fist. “Vecna’s here. In this house. Just on the other side.”
Steve grabs your hand, protective. He doesn’t like the idea of Vecna being so close to you. When the lights stop flickering, he pulls you closer to him, on edge. Equally as scared, you turn to Max to make sure she has her headphones nearby.
“Max, get your headphones on.” You command her, but she doesn’t listen.
“I think Venca just left the room.” Robin announces, looking at the group surrounding her.
Max frowns. “Did he hear us?”
“Can he see us?” Steve asks, hand skimming the walkman that resides in your coat pocket. Your headphones dangle from your neck. He positions himself so that if he needs to, he’ll be able to grab them as fast as possible.
“Headphones.” Lucas echoes your prior command, only this time Max doesn’t hesitate to put them on. He looks at you, too. “Y/N.”
You shake your head at him. Not yet. You’re scared that if you play your music right now, you’ll somehow miss any signs of danger for Max. You can’t be distracted, you can’t risk it.
“Everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” Nancy orders. There isn’t any time to argue, she recognizes that. You’ve made your choice.
Steve protests not having any lights on, and you can’t help but agree. The idea of running around the house without any sense of guidance makes you incredibly uneasy. It makes you easy targets.
But no one listens, already spreading out as Nancy told them. Steve groans, knowing you have no choice but to follow along as well. “Jesus Christ.”
“We’ll be fine.” You promise him, but Steve refuses to let go of your hand.
Robin is the first to find Vecna.
“I got him!” Her flashlight is pointed in the air, illuminating for only a second before the light dies completely. She slowly lowers it, defeated. “I… I had him.”
Then Steve’s flashlight turns on. He holds it away from him, though quickly he realizes that the light is following something. “He’s moving. I-I think he’s moving!”
Steve makes it to the top of the stairs before the light dies once more. He curses in agitation. But before he can complain, your flashlight turns on.
“He’s back,” you whisper, too afraid to raise your voice. Steve tries to snatch the flashlight from you, he doesn’t want Vecna anywhere near you, but you push him away. “He’s taking us somewhere.”
“Up here,” Max says, pointing towards a door. It’s cracked, faint light seeps through. Shoving it open, she reveals a separate staircase.
“It’s an attic,” Robin’s voice pitches an octave. “Of course it’s an attic.”
No one says anything as you make your way upstairs. Your light shines brightly, growing stronger and stronger with every step you take. Dustin tries to warn you guys that it could just be a trap, but his protests go ignored.
He’s probably right, but you’re already cursed and you have nothing to lose.
When you reach the attic, a single lightbulb hangs from the rafters. It flickers wildly, growing dimmer and stronger in stuttering patterns. Your flashlight begins to mimic the light’s pattern, before everyone else’s flashlights flicker on.
You all stand around the lightbulb, flashlights now joined together.
“Okay, what’s happening?” Steve looks around, anxious.
No one answers him. No one can answer him; but you can. The hair on your arms stands up. Static swirls around you, your body shivers at the sensation.
You’re standing where Vecna’s standing.
“He’s here.”
No one asks you how you know this.
A searing pain rips through your head. It’s so sudden, so jarring, that you can’t mask the pained sound you make. Everyone looks at you, terrified that you’re next, before the lights go haywire. The flashlights reach a burning capacity, energy exceeding their limits. One by one, they explode.
Glass flies everywhere. One piece cuts your cheek. The cut isn’t deep, it’s only a superficial wound, but Steve has your head in his hands before the blood can even begin to drip down your skin.
The lights go out. Steve tends to you in the dark.
The entire car ride back to Nancy’s, his hand never leaves yours.
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#bdyr#m's writing#first chapter where steve and bug dont fight !!!#HOORAY !!!!
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