#written pre season 4 you have been warned

[welcometololaland]

NOW COMPLETE - 9/9

---

“Better once than never, for never too late." William Shakespeare, The Taming of the Shrew

---

Beautiful, serious and studious Carlos Reyes has incredible college grades and a lacklustre love life. Unfortunately for his younger sister, family rules dictate that she can’t bring her boyfriend to their older sister's wedding unless Carlos brings a date.

A plan is hatched, the scene is set and strings are pulled to orchestrate a romance. However, Romeo comes in the form of TK Strand, and TK's never been particularly good at following the script of a love story.

OR

The Tarlos adaptation of 10 Things I Hate About You.

thank you to the multitude of people who have kept me going on this one over the years(?). it's literally been almost two years. insanity. you know who you are 😘 thank you, thank you, thank you.

[paceprompting]

ornament of christmas past

written for ‘ornament’ | wc: 857 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: pre-canon era & post season 4, toddler steve, gift-giving, cute shenanigans

@steddieholidaydrabbles

Steve went to a public preschool for two whole weeks.

After a termite infestation and a backlog in the exterminator’s schedule, all the children were temporarily transferred to the only other preschool in Hawkins. Being right before the winter holiday, even Steve’s father didn’t bother throwing a fit.

Steve didn’t remember much about the place. Just under five-years-old, not that surprising. He didn’t remember much about the private preschool either, except the bland health crackers they fed at snack.

But he did remember the holiday party the staff had thrown the last day before break. Sugary cake with red and green icing, classic songs on repeat, and a gift exchange of ornaments they’d made a few days before.

Steve had already given his away to a blonde girl he’d played with a couple of times. He’d made a foam snowflake covered in glitter and threaded with a green ribbon.

No one had given him anything.

But that was okay. The kids from the public daycare had little idea who he was, and he wasn’t likely to ever see them again to remember them when he grew up.

The party ended, and all that was left was waiting for the parents and nannies to pick them up.

Another kid sidled up next to him, bumping his shoulder. He ignored it, assuming that everyone’s puffy jackets were to blame for the jostle.

Then the kid bumped him again.

He’d turned to look with a frown his face, and found this wide brown eyes staring right at him. The kid’s head was shaved, dark hair barely growing back in.

“What?” he asked.

“You don’t have a present.”

Matter-of-fact, no room for questions.

“I don’t,” Steve agreed. He didn’t really remember the kid much from those two weeks, if he had ever met the boy before that moment at all.

Whatever reason the boy had, Steve never learned. A man’s voice called toward the crowd—probably the boy’s name, since his attention was pulled over by it—and the boy shoved one of the plastic bauble ornaments into Steve’s hands.

He’d barely kept from dropping it before the boy had run off.

Steve turned the ornament over in his hands. The entire inside had been coated in red glitter with ‘Mery Crismas’ painted across the front in black paint. Or, that was the best Steve could make out, with half the paint streaked across the front.

When winter break was over, Steve went back to the private preschool his parents paid a few thousand in tuition for.

Steve never saw the boy again.

“Where did you get this?”

Steve glanced up from digging into a box of decorations at the sound of Eddie’s voice. Found him turning around a bauble ornament in his hands, catching flashes of red between his fingers.

He extended his hand toward Eddie. “Let me see.”

Eddie bounded across the haphazard living room, half-decorated and the floor scattered with boxes, and took a seat beside Steve on the couch. He bounced slightly on the sofa, curls swatting Steve on the shoulder.

He handed over the ornament.

Somehow, the closure at the top of the plastic bubble had stayed on nearly two decades, keeping the red glitter trapped inside. The painted words on the outside had fared nearly as well, chipping off just a bit on the edges of the letters.

“Had this since preschool. Some exchange thing. Some boy gave it to me.” Steve gave the ornament back.

Eddie quirked up the corner of his mouth. “Some boy have a name?”

“I was only there two weeks. Never saw him again.” Steve shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of a four-year-old from my past.”

“Oh, I know I don’t need to be jealous,” Eddie said brightly. He stood from the couch and headed to the bare pine tree by the window.

Steve sat back on the couch, his hands braced on his knees. “You do?”

“Yeah,“ Eddie answered plainly.

He selected a branch right in the center of the tree, facing toward Steve, and hooked the ornament carefully in place. He tapped it with his fingernail, and then aimed a mischievous grin at Steve.

“Considering it’s mine,” he said.

Steve raised a brow high. “You remember an ornament you made in preschool?”

“Well, Wayne remembers me talking his ear off about a boy from the fancy school named Steve around then. Said I should give him a gift for Christmas. Still likes to remind me of it.”

“So your game plan was to shove my present at me and then book it?” Steve chuckled when Eddie shrugged, a pink blush glowing across his cheeks. “And that was better than just talking to me?”

“Well,” Eddie drawled out, walking a back and forth path across the rug.

Steve’s gaze followed him as Eddie walked slowly back toward the couch, his dark eyes fixed on Steve underneath his bangs. He easily moved his hands out of the way for Eddie to climb onto his lap, knees on either side of Steve’s thighs.

Eddie cocked his head, curls falling over his shoulder as he said, “Had to mark my claim, didn’t I?”

[kaybreezy3000]

Looking for Happy Five Hargreeves X FTM Reader -anon request)

~Explicit sexual content -if no likey-stay away please.

Hilariously simple but true summary: Five Hargreeves is sad and horny and wants to fuck, and all he wants is you.

(Don't worry, I will try to take you a little emotional rollercoaster that's not all the dirty-dirty 👍)

~Reader is post-top surgery and pre-bottom surgery.

~This story was done as an anon request, asking if I'd be willing to do a pairing of Five X m reader, or Five X ftm reader. The request left the plot open for me to decide if it had much of one or how deep I went with it. Anon did give me a few fun ideas to include if I could, and I did my best to deliver and had a lot of fun doing it, so I hope you enjoy. Thank you, anon. And special thanks to my buddy Bad Kitty @badkitty3000 for proof reading this and catching my zillions of mistakes.❤️

(18,900 words)

Content Warnings and additional tags: Dom Five and some Sub Five, small 'Scream' movie add in per anon's personal love of the movie with sexy Billy and Stu, light praise kink, daddy kink, rough sex, choking, spanking, public sex, Five being sweet, Five being a cocky jerk, masturbation mentions, flirting)

NOTE: This story takes place during season four and after it, using a series of flashbacks, so it moves between past and present several times. Also, this was obviously written before season 4 came out, with an alternate season 4 ending written my way. It has lots of season 4 trailer and interview mentions to make it more fun and hopefully tie in a little with the real season 4.

~~~~~Looking for Happy~~~~~

Coming out of one of the empty offices at the Temps Commission headquarters, Five is met with silence. He still holds the title to the main building of the time controlling agency that he founded, but now, he and his family are the only ones that know it ever existed. 

He has no reason to be there.

It’s as it should be, but like always, he can’t seem to move on.

As Five told The Handler, he is a man that no longer belongs anywhere, only when he said that, he didn’t realize he was the driving force behind so much of his own suffering, or that in the end, it would all come down to him.

Everything he’s done was to restore life as it should be, and finally, this time they won. They are all alive. He should be happy. They are back in their original timeline where they should have always been, but the concept of time and Five’s place in it have always felt like pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to be solved. 

For everyone but the Hargreeves, with their exceptional powers given at birth, it’s as if the final battle that brought on the end, and then opened the door for the new beginning never happened.

That means you don’t remember him.

The rest of the world didn’t need to remember the terror. You just needed to live.

Strolling along, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast as the heels of his dress shoes echo down the vacant halls, despite his wins, Five feels empty. All he wants is to go back to a time and place that’s no more, back to when he could feel your lips pressed to his with a desperation that matched his own.

Reaching the end of the hall, he enters the narrow room filled with screens and panels of little white and blue blinking lights. He sinks into one of the industrial style chairs that’s placed in front of the Infinite Switchboard’s main frame.

Five clicks on the outdated looking monitor, his fingers turning the knobs, dialing.

~~~

Not long later, Five’s face is glued to the screen when Klaus peaks in at him from the hall.

Knowing Five would be here, Klaus passes over the threshold, loudly clearing his throat before saying, “Hey there, big bro…watcha doing?”

Five doesn’t even look up. “Yeah, lucky me. Is it time for our weekly check-in already?”

Treading lightly, Klaus approaches. “When you missed dinner tonight, we were a little worried you’d fallen asleep on the countertop in the break room again, but here you are...”

Klaus lightheartedly laughs at his attempt to make a joke about Five’s odd sleeping habits, but Five continues to ignore him.

“Thank goodness we still have a few of these things hanging around, otherwise the rest of us wouldn’t be able to visit this lovely place,” he says as he lugs up one of Five’s time traveling briefcases, waving it in his face.

Five glares at him.

“Really, man,” Klaus continues. “Everyone was there tonight. It was all the usual banter you’d expect from such an amazing group of misfits, but it would have been so much better if you were there too. Things even got a little out of hand when Diego insisted on coming here to force you to eat what was left of their disgusting vegan goulash, but don’t worry, I put him in his place.”

“Sure, you did,” Five mumbles.

Taking a step closer Klaus asks, “How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

Klaus’s eyes follow his brother’s unbroken gaze to the monitor, just as you enter your apartment building, where you stop in front of the wall of mailboxes. Your hand comes up, bringing your key to your lock, but your eyes remain fixed on the mailbox above yours.

“That was your mailbox,” Klaus points out, like Five doesn’t already know that.

Five once stood right there by you in that entryway. He hadn’t thought anyone that wasn’t part of his family would ever have the balls to try to put him in his place, but you did, and by doing it, you opened a part of him that before that, he hadn’t been willing to let anyone touch.

After shoving your mail in the back pocket of your baggy jeans, just like the day you met, with your face obscured by your sweatshirt, you stomp up the stairs, your anger evident.

The screen hisses with static as Five adjusts your location until it shows you walking into your bedroom. 

“Why don’t you just go there and talk to him? Maybe jump him in the shower or something. Sounds like something you kinky boys would both enjoy,” Klaus unhelpfully suggests.

“He’s not in the shower, you dumbass,” Five says, letting out an irritated sigh afterwards.

“He might be in a few minutes…”

“No.”

“Hey man, I know it wasn’t supposed to happen, but he remembers you,” Klaus insists, spinning Five’s chair around.

Swinging around, Five almost falls out of his chair. “What the fu-!"

“Five, I know you’re only trying to do what you think is right, but just look at him, something is wrong!”

Five does look, just as you pick up the stack of papers and news clippings from your bedside table. He doesn’t need to zoom in to see the one you are holding. It’s a famous image of him in his academy uniform, mask and all, standing like the smug little jerk he was while posing in line next to the rest of the superpowered Hargreeves children.

“There is no other explanation for why he is looking up all this stuff about you, and there’s other reason why he keeps coming by my old place,” Klaus furthers, “Why won’t you let me go talk to him? We were friends. He might remember me too.”

“Leave him alone!” Five snaps, but his bark has no bite, and his eyes can no longer hide how painful this is seeing you this way.

“Everyone is worried about you. We just want to help,” Klaus pleads.

“You can’t help me with THIS!” Hands shaking, Five jumps up, his voice breaking just a little as he says, “Klaus... I can’t.”  He looks back over at the screen, right as you furiously toss a tiny collector figurine version of him across the room. “Just because I want to see something in this doesn’t mean it’s real,” Five whispers, looking anywhere but at his brother, or you.

“He maybe wasn’t supposed to remember, but I think he does. As we all know, there are a lot of things that make no sense in this world,” Klaus disagrees. “There is something going on with him. Can’t you see he’s falling apart?”

Jaw working anxiously, Five drops back down in front of his screens again, flipping them to what is clearly a random time and date, somewhere in the past with ladies in long billowing skirts and the men in fancy dress coats, escorting them down muddy streets filled with steaming piles of horse shit.

It’s over.

This is how it always goes.

Klaus remains silent as Five pulls out a notebook, pretending to be taking notes on whatever he is pretending to get out of watching things from the past when there is no longer a reason to monitor it for corrections. 

Klaus knows that Five isn’t going to budge, but before he leaves, he says, “Five, I know you are only trying to do what you think is best for him, but what if it’s not best. It’s not too late to fix this part of what was broken too.”

Five’s pen slows as he looks up at his brother standing over by the door. He nods, trying to smile but Klaus can see it’s so hard for him to do it. “I promise I’ll be there next time. Tell Lila that I am sorry.”

“Tell her yourself,” Klaus shoots back, followed by a small chuckle, “She’s pissed. She worked for hours cutting up all those fancy organic carrots for you, so don’t be surprised if the next time you drop by, she chops something off that you find equally important as wanting us all to eat sustainably. And by important, I mean your wiener,” he unnecessarily clarifies.

The hint of a real smile fights to come out and wins this time as Five says, “Lila hates to cook, so I know she did not help make me dinner, and if she was going to chop off my dick, she would have done it by now.”

Klaus smiles too and shrugs. “Maybe… She was pretty mad at you though, so I guess you’ll have to come over to their place to find out if you are still besties. And hey, maybe think about bringing my friend along with you next time. Everyone is dying to meet him and see that adorable smiling face of yours. It’s not like we all don’t know how you like being perpetually grumpy, but seriously…you’re so much prettier when you smile.”

While Five is telling Klaus to fuck off, hoping he finally talked some sense into him, Klaus quickly rounds the corner, hoisting up his briefcase, his fingers punching in the correct date to go back to the present.

As soon as Klaus is gone, Five’s smile fades. He turns the dial, bringing up the footage of you also back in current time, right as you’re screaming into your pillow. “What the fuck is wrong with me!”

His heart breaks a little more.

Nothing is wrong with you. He is the problem, that is why he never should have done what he did. 

He should have let you walk away, but he didn’t.

~~~

The invisible string, a connection that refuses to be ignored, tugs at your mind and it won’t stop.

You’re going crazy.  

Like the miniature resin version Five you just sent flying, the pillow on your face joins it on the floor.

It makes no sense, but you can still feel the tickle of Five’s breath against your neck as you cuddled together on your couch, him contentedly holding you like he never wanted to let you go.

Your eyes remain focused on your motionless ceiling fan, but your brain refuses to come back to the present.

The pain inside your chest tightens.

You try to push it away, but it only gets worse the more you try to tell yourself to stop this.

This is insanity. You need help. That’s what people would say if you told them about the things going on inside your head.

From anything you can gather, Five’s family seem like they aren’t concerned about anything at all, but not that long ago you remember them being shown on every news channel, doing unimaginable things while defending themselves from the barrage of artillery being shot at them.

Five left you only hours before that, promising to be back, but he never came back.

Long after he said he’d be home, you watched in shock as the news blasted stories about him and other people associated with him that made no sense. They said they were aliens! They said they were superheroes from another dimension! They flashed images of Five’s much younger face alongside the other people he grew up with, including Klaus.

Then a war started in the streets.

Almost immediately, the news reporters had given up trying to maintain their façade of calm. The holiday lights beyond their lens twinkled eerily as the sound of explosions filled the air and rocked the ground.

People screamed and sirens blared, and not just on the TV. You could hear it coming from outside your windows.

As the collapsed news camera continued to stream live feed, out of nowhere, Five appeared in the frame, enveloped for a fraction of a second in a flash of violet hued light.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. It couldn’t be real.

Five’s long coat tails flung like wings behind him as he grabbed ahold of the terrified girl whose picture you’d seen on the birthday invite Klaus had shown you. Five and the girl disappeared in another burst of light, just as bullets ripped through the metal garbage can she was hiding behind.

You smelled the smoke in the air when you ran outside. The earth shook, rattling your teeth as the echo of gunfire sent chills up your spine.

It all happened, only it didn’t. Nobody else remembers it.

Now, the Umbrella Academy is a thing of the past. The superpowered children that had once lived there are common knowledge, but they supposedly moved on with their lives long ago.

Klaus’s apartment isn’t his anymore, and the doors at the Umbrella Academy never open when you ring the bell.

The world in which you met is gone and the Five you knew is gone with it.

Five Hargreeves disappeared at the age of 13, never to be seen or heard from again.

Was any of it even real?

Again, you’re back to questioning your sanity.

“Fuck,” you curse, while raking your hand through your hair.

It’s been months. Three months and twenty-seven days to be exact since you first talked to Five, only then, you didn’t know that was his real name and not just a quirky nickname he preferred to go by.

He always had a nervous energy about him, and he always seemed distracted, so you usually paid no attention to him, but that day, something about the way he refused to acknowledge your presence set you off.

After he rudely stepped on your foot and pushed into you with his shoulder while reaching for his mailbox, you slammed your metal mailbox door closed, doing it much louder than needed.

You smiled with satisfaction when Five startled, even jumping a little.

He looked over at you with cartoon sized wide eyes.

Shaking your head, you’d said, “Not sure if you noticed, but you are not the only one trying to occupy this space. I exist too.”

Five’s eyes narrowed, the intensity of his glare slowly moving up and down as he took in your loose t-shirt and baggy jeans, comfortably paired with your favorite beat up low top sneakers.

You were sure the assessment he was making of you was not a good one. Especially when you consider that he was dressed impeccably as he always was, a long wool coat over a three-piece suit, with his hair a mess of chocolate brown strands, that though all over the place, only made him look even more unfairly attractive.

Compared to him, even though you stood over him by an inch or more, you suddenly felt like a tiny bug on the floor about to be obliterated under one of his shiny dress shoes. Your bodies outwardly didn’t look that much different, but you could tell that you were a little scrawny even when compared to his relative scrawniness. On top of that, he appeared to be close to the same age as you, but it was as if you were opposites, living in the same shitty apartment building, but he was somehow better than you.

You quickly concluded that he was a totally dickhead. Thinking about his stupid big black shoes, and then dicks as they related to shoe size, your mind started moving to certain ways that you were pretty sure you were different from him other than the fact that you weren’t an asshole.

You started to turn away, but before you did, you bitterly added, “I live here, by-the-way. We pass by each other almost daily. Not sure if you are aware of that?”

Ingrained manners getting the best of you, you extended a hand. Five looked at it like a foreign object.

He said nothing, so getting really mad, you casually as possible hooked a thumb under your waistline, while defiantly cocking your chin at him. “An I am sorry, or an excuse me, are just two options you could use to apologize when you just rudely rammed into someone, but it looks like you’re not going to do that since you lack even the most basic kindergarten level social skills.”

You tucked your mail in your back pocket and his eyes immediately moved down to your waist, openly checking out your striped boxers that were starting to show thanks to your pants sagging. Even more annoyed by this less than pleasant interaction, you started to walk away, quietly breathing out the word ‘jerk’ as you headed back towards the stairs.

“Wait!” he called out.

Surprised, you turned back to see the corner of Five’s mouth ticked up, the small movement hardly even noticeable if you hadn’t been suddenly hyper focused on the softness of his slightly parted lips.

“You aren’t wrong. Social graces aren’t where I excel,” he started. “I get lost inside my own head sometimes. I am sorry. Will you accept my apology, or is there something else I can do to make up for being so impolite? Wouldn’t want the neighbor boy thinking I’m a jerk.” 

He extended his hand. 

“You can call me Five, by-the-way.”

Fuck. He heard you, and what the hell, was he trying to be condescending? And Five? 

What the hell kind of name is that?

You looked back over at the name on his mailbox, it wasn’t Five.

“Five is a family nickname,” he explained. The dimple in Five’s cheek grew deeper the longer you dumbfoundedly stared at him. He lifted a brow. “I may be a lot of things, but deep down, I swear I’m a gentleman. I really am sorry for violating your personal space, but I am not that sorry about it because it meant we got to do this.”

What was with this guy?

Rarely did guys his age act so…

Shit… Was he hitting on you?

Five’s smile was like a superpower all its own and it was rendering you speechless, making you temporarily unable to maintain the level of irritation you’d had before. Feeling your face getting hotter, you couldn’t figure out why his words or his expression looked and sounded so flirty, but they did.

Maybe he was just trying to be nice?

Trying to play it cool, you threw a hand back through your slightly less shaggy looking haircut, then replied, “Sure… Nice to meet you and the apology is good enough. Very big of you. Thanks.”

Five’s taunting smile remained, as if you shooting him down was exactly what he wanted.

“Oh,” he breathed, digging through his stack of mail before pulling out an envelope, “I believe this is yours?” He frowned as he looked down at the feminine sounding name and your apartment number that was printed under the clear cellophane address window. “Your roommate, or girlfriend’s, I’m assuming?”

You took the mail from him. “No. No roommate and no girlfriend, just me.”

You were sure that Five looked relieved to hear that, and your breath caught, and your heart kicked up accordingly.

Adding the envelope to your back pocket, you breathed in, then slowly let it out as you rocked back on your heels. “That’s…my dead name,” you clarified.

Five said nothing. He seemed confused as his eyes wandered from yours and he rubbed his chin, but then his eyes suddenly came up, meeting yours again just as it seemed a lightbulb went off inside his brain.

His handsome smile took your breath away as he said, “I never would have guessed, but then again, there is a slightly unhinged, 64-year-old man hiding inside my head, and I am sure you never would have guessed that either.”

You laughed. You never would have guessed he’d be so funny or cute, but he was full of all sorts of surprises.

“You know, nobody reads the news that way anymore, other than grumpy old men, but I guess that makes sense since you’re a retiree,” you teased, trying to keep this whatever it was going by fucking with him again.

Unfazed by you making fun of him, Five nodded. “True,” he agreed, “When it comes to reading real newspapers and my other geriatric ways, I don’t mind getting my hands dirty from time to time on these ink smudged pages,” he waved his paper at you, “-or in other more challenging ways that are much more enjoyable. With the lifetime of experience I have under my belt, I’m sure I could teach you a lesson or two on how to have a good time the old-fashioned way.”

Taking his rolled newspaper, Five slapped it into his opposite hand, making a spanking gesture, all the while never taking his eyes off you.

You rubbed your palms down the front of your jeans. “Wha-what kind of fun?” you stammered, your brain clicking off as blood rushed between your legs.

“The crossword puzzle,” he clarified, followed by a cocky little chuckle. “There’s much more to the newspaper than doom and gloom news stories. It’s all about the delayed gratification. Seeing all those empty squares filled in the only words that can solve the puzzle is a sight well worth the effort.”

“You’re talking about doing crossword puzzles from the newspaper?”

“What else would I be talking about?” he countered.

Holy shit, you wanted to deck him.

~~~

A few days went by, and you didn’t run into your charmingly arrogant neighbor again, not until you were coming home late and you walked into a neighborhood pub to grab some dinner. You looked over, and to your surprise, you saw the familiar profile of a dark-haired asshole sitting alone at the bar.

“You can’t be twenty-one,” you said, sliding in next to him.

Five’s lips pulled to the side as he gave you the most mischievous looking side eye you’d ever seen. “So, you’re stalking me now? If my coworkers at the CIA knew how easily you tracked me down, I’d be fired.”

You scoffed, “You wish,” meaning both to the stalking and him working for the CIA.

Smirking fully, as if acknowledging he did wish you were stalking him, Five self-assuredly tipped his glass your way before sending the rest of the amber colored liquid down his throat.

With his head tipped back, tie pulled loose, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, try as you might, you couldn’t stop looking at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

“Really. How old are you?” you pushed, trying not to drool.

Five let out a cocky sounding laugh, his eyes a mossy calm as his gaze flicked down and up, drinking you in like he was a lion, sizing up its prey. “19 going on 64, give or take. Doesn’t matter because here, the drinks are strong, and the bartenders don’t care.”

“Right…” Shaking your head at him as you smiled, you flagged down a server.

Knowing what you wanted already, you ordered, but when you asked for it to-go, Five unexpectedly interrupted. “Make that for here, and for two, and put it on my tab, please.”

The bartender looked at you and you nodded that it was okay.

When you were alone again and Five realized you were still looking at him like he was nuts, he calmly said, “What? I thought we were friends now, and I owe you, remember?”

“I suppose that talking smack to each other for five minutes, one time, means we’re friends,” you pointed out, before adding, “And as long as you don’t try to plow into me again, you don’t owe me shit.”

Five shifted his weight, leaning closer, so only you could hear him since the seats on both sides of you had just been taken. “As a man that hasn’t come close to mastering traveling through time, both forwards or backwards, and can no longer do either anymore anyway, I can’t promise anything with it comes to my spatial awareness issues, but that’s a whole different problem of mine among the many. When it comes to sticking my landings and running into you accidentally or not, I tend to think you like the idea of me plowing into you again.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, like you were a brainless fish, nothing coming out, because what the hell do you say to that!

Five burst out laughing. “You are so easy to fuck with.”

“And you are a dick,” you duly noted.

“A dick that you’re apparently not opposed to eating dinner with, and hey, I’ll even buy you a drink too, but only if you’re a good boy and keep looking at me with that handsome little smirk of yours.”

Jesus… Did he just say that?

He did, and his patronizingly suggestive comments weren’t the only thing getting you worked up. You could smell the heady scent of his cologne every time you had to move closer to him to let someone else get up to the bar, and damn did he smell good.

“Confident much?” you cocked off.

Five shrugged. “Yes,” he said, matter of fact. “But the truth is, most of the time I am not great with people. I’ve spent most of my life alone, and I have only ever been with one other person intimately, and that relationship wasn’t what anyone would call normal, and abstaining from any sexual relationship since then is definitely not my penis’s first choice, it's more of an existential problem.”

“Oh, my God!” You burst out laughing.

Your second conversation with Five was starting no less shocking and confusing than the first, and like the time before, you were loving it.

For the next few hours, you sat there with him, getting to know each other, having several more drinks that went down with plenty of laughs and hardly concealed innuendoes that proved over and over that what was going on between you was much more than just friendly chatter.

With his dark strands of hair dangling in his eyes and his perfectly tailored three-piece suit, Five looked hot as hell, and because of that, he was getting checked out constantly the entire time, but he never seemed to notice, and that was because his eyes were always on you.

You didn’t even think about leaving until the band that had been setting up since you got there started to play, and it got way too loud to hold a conversation. As you offered to pay again, Five refused. Then, having already had his foot resting on the rung of your barstool, he abruptly spun you around to face him more directly, giving you an innocent looking smile as he let the tip of his shoe glide up your ankle.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he said, his voice low.

“You’re not?” you sputtered, trying not to spray the liquid you’d just tried to swallow all over him.

“This has been nice,” he said, velvety soft as he moved closer “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“That’s not all I want to do,” you found yourself saying back, your lips brushing his cheek as your hand lowered to his knee, your palm running along the smooth wool fabric, stopping mid-thigh.

Five’s leg tensed. For the first time since you got there, he was tongue tied.

He suddenly moved back, and you instantly removed your hand. You were sure you’d just freaked him out, but then he quickly said, “Maybe we should move?”

Not a second later, you were both making your way through the mob of people, all the way to the edge of the dance floor in front of the stage.

Five seemed so at ease in the crowd, even having fun listening to the live music. He was not at all who you thought he was, and just looking at him next to you made it feel like you had a swarm of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach.

With eyes glossed over, standing as close as you were, the music wasn’t the only thing Five seemed to be enjoying. Taking full advantage of there being no room to move, every now and then, his hand would brush against the side of your thigh, staying there a little longer than necessary. Then, after both of you were getting repeatedly shoved around in the crowd of inebriated people, Five strategically placed himself behind you, as he was trying to protect you.

With him standing behind you, your body got even warmer, and you smiled to yourself, remembering how Five had claimed to be such a gentleman. Whether he did it to be gentlemanly or not, Five seemed all too happy to have a reason to press up against your backside, because now he had an even better reason to place his face next to yours, humming in your ear as he said absurd things to make you laugh.

You weren’t so much dancing together as the people around you were trying to do, but that didn’t mean Five wasn’t intentionally or unintentionally moving himself against you to the rhythm of the music. Trying to figure out which one it was, you reached back taking him his belt, tugging him flush as you dropped your head back and arched your back into him.

Five let out a pained sounding whimper as his hard-on poked the back of your leg and almost just as fast, the tip of his nose brushed your neck as the warmth of his breath caressed your skin. “I’m sorry, but fuck, you’re making me hard,” he whispered before you felt his lips gently kiss your already tingling skin.

He had no reason to be sorry.

Turning around, you slipped your hand around his, assertively leading him through the crowd. You weren’t even off the main floor, a few feet down a side hall near the bathrooms, when Five was on you, taking your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. He was so excited, his lips actually trembled as they pressed against yours, a low moan coming from deep inside his chest when you eagerly reciprocated.

It had to be a whole minute later before he let you up for air, gazing at you with darkened eyes as he smiled. "I really like you.”

Sliding your other hand around his neck, you grabbed at the soft tangle of hair brushing the crisp edge of his shirt collar, tugging it sharply. "You’re going to like me even more in a second,” you shot back, while moving your other hand lower.

Five let out the cutest sound as you started fondling him while also giving his mane another tug, but it must not have been all that upsetting that you were manhandling him because as you tightened your grip in his hair, his hips reactively bucked into yours.

Five’s hard cock pressed up against the crotch of your jeans as he ground himself against you, his hands hungrily groping your ass, pulling you back and forth over his dick.

"Fffiv-vvve," you panted into his frantic kiss.

He smiled against your lips and kept on kissing.

You trailed a hand up his inner thigh, cupping his erection through his clothing as your mouths parted wider. The heat of his tongue entered you, engaging you in a sloppy kiss that ended with biting and tugging at your bottom lip before he said, “You have no idea how bad I wanted this.”

Five let out a shaky sigh as he glanced over at the man carrying several cases of liquor, trudging by, heading towards one of the bars' storage rooms.

You were a little taken aback by how vulnerable he looked, his face flushed, and his lips wet and full from kissing you. You stayed silent for a few seconds, just looking at him.

You weren’t sure if he was going to stop. Something seemed off, only you couldn’t put your finger on it. Not that you were trying that hard. Your fingers were still busy doing something else.

Before you got too worried that he’d changed his mind, Five started kissing again, your oversized sweatshirt hood falling over your heads.

Going at it hard, with his hands latched on your ass, Five dry humped you into the wall, not even stopping when the door across from you flung open. Coming to your senses only slightly, you shoved Five backwards, forcing him into the men’s room.

Your adrenaline was pumping hard, and your heart was racing as the door closed behind you.

Five came at you again. Your hands went around him as he grabbed a handful of your ass, nearly lifting you off the floor. He pinned you to the wall again, his cock slamming between your legs.

His hands ran down your sides, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he kissed and sucked your collarbone, trailing teeth and kisses gently up your neck.

Breathing heavily as you momentarily broke apart, Five anxiously said, “You need to tell me to stop if this is too much, okay?”

You didn’t reply verbally, instead you kept kissing him. Five groaned into the kiss and pushed your crotches together with more determination.

Miraculously for as busy as the bar was, the bathroom was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long. Not even breaking apart, you walked Five backwards again, moving him inside the largest bathroom stall. Thankfully it didn’t appear that dirty, but again, you weren’t really looking.

You kicked the door closed, hand only leaving Five long enough to twist the lock. Lips coming off your neck, Five’s eyes trailed up and down your taller frame. He reached out as you cornered him, brushing some of your hair away from your ear while his other hand snuck between your legs and squeezed your crotch. Looking pleased with himself and what he was feeling, he tilted his head to kiss your neck while he rubbed his hand over your clothed sex repeatedly.

In return, you moved your hand over his dick again, unzipping and then tugging his pants down. His cock sprung forward with no underwear to prevent it from happening.

Naturally you both looked down, and wow did Five look proud as your eyes went wide.

“Impressed?” he asked.

“Hardly.”

He was clearly not buying that lie because fuck…

With no further ado, you lowered to your knees, and he watched you do it as if transfixed. Your hand wrapped around his ankle, then trailed up a bit further, before you stopped under his knee, rubbing lightly.

Five reactively opened his legs a little, and so did you in a futile effort to ease the slight feeling of friction you were experiencing against your briefs.  

You were buzzed and horny, and this was nuts, but fuck it. This was happening!

Five’s cock was already leaking. You licked your lips and positioned yourself. With the hand not already holding him, you reached out and gave his long cock a tentative pump, spreading the precum around with your thumb. He pulled back a little.

“You okay, big shot?” you teased.

A smile crept onto Five’s face, but his voice came out so broken it caught you off guard. “You don’t have to do this.”

Okay… Maybe he was nervous, that was fair, especially if all his arrogance was just a show and what he said about being inexperienced was true, but considering how he had just been all over you, and now you were on your knees in a bathroom stall with his dick in your face, you looked up at him in disbelief as you said, “I know I don’t have to do this. I want to. Now stop being so damn frustrating and let me suck your dick!”

It was as if something in him snapped, the darkness in Five’s eyes smoldered as he purred, "Just remember, pretty boy, you asked for it. I am going to fuck your face so hard you’ll think twice before smarting off to daddy again.”

Holy fuck that was fucked but it only made you wetter.

Just then, someone walked in, going straight to the urinals. Your heads both flung that way. If they looked behind them, they for sure would see Five’s shoes lined up against your knees. There was no question what was happening, and even more turned on by that, you started stroking Five gently as you could while playfully sticking out your tongue to lick up the glistening fluid running down his shaft.

Falling back against the partition between the stalls, Five’s head made a hilariously loud thunking sound.

You kept at it, kissing the slit of his rounded tip, working it in a circular pattern. Five let out the quietest hum of approval as his fingers at his sides clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

You kept toying with him, enjoying how he was struggling to stay quiet, but only until the door closed and you were alone again, then he brought his hand to your cheek.

You looked up as his hand moved into your hair. “You look so good with your mouth on my cock.”

To that, the throbbing between your legs had you tensing your thighs to increase the sensation but it wasn’t enough and you let out a moan of complaint over it that made the darkness in Five’s eyes look all the more wicked with delight.

You put his whole tip in your mouth, opening and closing your kiss reddened lips around it, grazing it just barely with your teeth. From above, Five let out a moan as his hand in your hair moved, brushing your fringe of hair out of your face.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you and God did you love it.

He was letting out breathy sighs and grunts as you serviced them, his free hand pushing back through his hair the more agitated he got.

Wanting to send him over the edge, with the hand you were holding him with, slowly pumping him at just the tip, you leaned in even more, letting the musky scent of him fill your senses as your tongue ran along his balls. You were rewarded for that with a deep groan and an unsteady hand coming to the top of your shoulder.

That was all the praise you needed.

“Fuck yeah,” Five hissed, then he bit down on his lower lip, as you took him in your mouth, moving over him just little deeper and faster.

Almost right away, Five started rocking his hips in strained, shallow nudges. Each time he entered you and hit the back of your throat, he’d break apart a little more, and you swore you’d never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

Petting you, and making your hair all sorts of fucked up, Five encouragingly murmured “You are so fucking good at this. Fuck- Ohh-ffffff-you’re amazing,” he gasped.

Even though it was happening, you could hardly believe you were seeing this normally composed man turning into such a stuttering, red-faced mess.

Tipping your head back and opening your throat to him, the thick head of Five’s cock moved inside with ease, fucking you deep and hard enough in quick but controlled thrusts that it took away your ability to breathe.

Your eyes instantly began to water.

“Fu-ck-ye-ah-take-my-dick,” Five stammered as he wildly fucked into you.

The door opened again, the music getting louder for a moment before it shut again. This time there were several guys in there, but between the sound of them pissing, and their talking, and the thrum of the bass coming from outside, it still wasn’t enough to hide Five’s sharply cut off breaths and curses.

They knew, but the way Five’s eyes kept drooping closed proved his brain was no longer running the show and he didn’t care.

His fingers gripped tighter, yanking at your hair. You took the abuse, gagging on him until Five suddenly clasped his hands on the sides of your face, stopping you. “I’m gonna-cum,” he quietly cried.

He had a panicked look in his eyes. His teeth were clenched, and it was clear he was trying so hard not to orgasm, but it was coming one way or another, even with the guys outside your stall snickering and making lewd comments.

“Fuck yeah you are, and you’re going to do it my mouth,” you commanded, right before sucking him raw again, taking him all the way to the hilt.

Losing all self control, Five started railing your face again.

You couldn’t breathe at all, and were choking on your own spit. Your fingers dug into his thighs as your body instinctively fought back, but Five held the back of your head tight, forcing you down on him over and over.

Then, while violently scrambling your brains with his throbbing cock, hot spurts of Five’s seed started shooting down your throat. His hips jerked uncontrollably as he dug his heels into the floor. He fell back against the wall again. The waves of his shuddering release came out in a cadence of grunted curses as he moved himself in and out of your gaping mouth, moving slower and slower with each thrust until he was spent.

Having dumped his load, he started to slide out. Getting oxygen again, your blurred eyes took in the sight above you as you gave his well worked shaft a few more loving licks and twirls of your tongue. Sure that you just blew his mind, you popped your mouth off and smirked.

Five’s doe eyes were only slightly open and the dreamy way he was looking down at you was priceless.

~~~

Five was temporarily out of commission but you were both still horny as fuck as you burst out in the cool night air onto the sidewalk. Both riding the high, you fully intended to take your fun back to one of your apartments. As worked up as you were, coming out of that bathroom, hand-in-hand, quickly cutting through the crowded bar, your discussion hadn’t gone much past both of you smiling like idiots, but you knew the night wasn’t over, that was until you saw Klaus.

“Five?” he questioned, sounding totally shocked to see him as he approached from the opposite direction with his colorful meditation robe bundled around him.

Five slowed to a stop, back peddling a little. You looked from him to your friend, as his hand slipped from yours.

“Hey there, little brother,” Klaus said, “Would have never thought I’d see you out this late. What’s this?” He pointed at you with one of his latex covered gloves, the motion exposing his usual weird bubble wrap inner padding system that he liked to keep secured around him, so as he put it, he didn’t die while accidentally getting run over. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other,” Klaus added as he waved the hand holding his Styrofoam cup between the two of you.

It was subtle, but Five moved away from you a little more as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying even harder to hide that he’d been touching you.

Looking very uncomfortable, Five cleared his throat. “Well, Klaus, what with the nature of my employment, I am known to leave my apartment from time to time, and it’s not like I see you that often, so you wouldn’t know that. I also wasn’t aware that I needed to keep you updated with who my acquaintances are.”

Five looked at you for the briefest of moments, no indication of the sweet guy he had been in his now hardened eyes.

“We live in the same building,” Five irritatedly furthered, as he looked at Klaus again. “Happened to run into each other a bit ago while picking up dinner, so yeah… That’s it.”

“You guys going anywhere else fun? I’d love to join you, catch-up on life before the big family reunion b-day party next weekend.” Klaus held up his drink again. “This tea is amazing. I got it at a place about a block down. I’ll buy you guys one,” he pushed as you silently tried not to let it show how confused you were.

You’d met Klaus over a year before while at a park. He was there alone, sitting under a shady tree, legs crossed, eyes closed while positioned in namaste, when one of your friends threw a frisbee that glided over and clocked him in the side of the head, which was the only part of him not covered with protection from germs or flying projectiles.

Running over to apologize, from that point on, you’d been friends with the slightly odd, but always interesting spiritualist. The fact that Klaus was Five’s older brother, one of the other six orphans he’d told you he’d grown up with, was as crazy and unsettling as the way Five was acting all of a sudden.

As if you weren’t already feeling like shit, then Five said, “No thanks. I’ll have to pass on the tea. I have work to do at the office. I’ll see you around.”

“You still doing cool secret government stuff?” Klaus questioned, but Five didn’t answer him, or specify if he meant he’d see you around, or just his brother, then he strode off, his breath a plume of white in the night air as he quickly rounded the corner like he couldn’t get away quick enough.

~~~

The work week came and went, and you didn’t run into Five again, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t thought about him about a million times.

Of course, you asked Klaus about him, and he asked you about you and Five. Klaus said that his brother was super secretive. He said that he thought Five worked for the government in some capacity, but really, he wasn’t sure, but you were pretty sure that was a lie.

Klaus said Five was a loner and that he didn’t get out socially that much, so he was floored when he saw him laughing and smiling, walking down the street with you, and that part you figured was true.

When Klaus pressed you about Five, you could tell that he knew you were lying when you went along with Five’s story, by not giving him anything new, other than you’d eaten dinner with him since you both happened to be sitting at the same bar.

You said you were being neighborly. That was it.

You both weren’t telling the whole truth, and you both knew it.

As much as you wanted to tell someone how mad you were about what Five had done, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be his older brother. The way Five played you was dirty, but you weren’t the type to start shit.

Five was a prick. End of story.

You didn’t know if he was ashamed of people knowing about him being with you, or it was just his family knowing about it, or if he just used you to get off and that’s all it ever was.

It didn’t matter.

You felt so stupid because you had felt like you had something real with him, something that was maybe a bit too much based on an intense sexual attraction and a shared craving to one up the other with cocky remarks and flirty jokes, but there was also something else. When you were with Five, it felt like you were all that he could see. And even more important, he saw you how you wanted to be seen.

You wanted to get lost in him and the feeling seemed to be mutual, but you were wrong.

What Five did hurt. There was no other way to put it.

When you came and went from your place, a part of you wanted to run into him, and another part of you never wanted to see him again. Some days when you couldn’t stop thinking about that asshole’s smile and those dark lashes of his fanning his pale cheeks, you contemplated going up a floor to kick his door in, to either jump his bones or kick him in the nuts, maybe both.

You didn’t.

It had been a long day, and the last thing you wanted was to go out. You were planning on having over a group of guys to watch a horror movie marathon. It was going to be a mixed group, old friends and Klaus.

Klaus always seemed lonely, too obsessed with keeping himself from getting sick or avoiding quicker, more gruesome forms of death, so you weren’t about to leave him out. He needed to get outside of his head and so did you. Klaus was someone that needed a friend and you were happy to bring him into your fold, even if he often remained quiet, or nervously excitable. He could be so hot and cold, and so detached, and something about that reminded you of Five.

They were brothers, so…

No. 

No, you were not going there.

Fuck Five.

You dropped some bags of chips and other junk food on the table in front of the couch, busying yourself with getting things ready for your guests, rather than wasting your time thinking about Five.

Life goes on, your friends showed up and as usual, Klaus was late, but when he knocked on your door with his brother in tow, you naturally did a double take because you were so floored.  

“Mind if I join you?” Five sheepishly asked while handing you a bottle of very expensive looking Scotch, the same brand he kept buying you at the bar.

There you were, wearing your favorite sweats and frumpy faded t-shirt, and there he was, looking amazing as always in his slim fit white dress shirt and usual black slacks, but gone was the self-assured guy who strutted into your life and then stomped on your dick.

He looked so nervous and unlike himself that all you could bring yourself to do was take the bottle as you nodded your head, stepping aside to let them in.

Klaus came waltzing in, minus his usual bubble wrap bumper vest, which you assumed he left at Five’s apartment before coming down to yours. He instantly took his place on your recliner since you’d abandoned it.

“Since, my dearest little brother lives in your building and you two are friends, I figured I’d stop by and see if he wanted to join us,” he explained, clearly aware that you weren’t thrilled. “With how chummy you two looked the other night, I was surprised that you hadn’t already plucked Five out of his boring man cave,” he added while wagging his eyebrows at you.

“Funny, when inviting my friends over, thinking anything about Five and our chumminess totally slipped my mind,” you muttered, as you glared at the jerk you did not want there who was still expectantly staring at you.

The asshole was standing there on your door mat, looking about as clueless as ever, so you waved him on. “Don’t just stand there. Come on in. Join the party. We’re about thirty minutes into the first ‘Scream’ movie.”

“Are you sure this is, okay?” Five quietly asked, clearly not wanting anyone else to hear as you shut the door behind him.

“Why wouldn’t it be,” you shot back, the anger in your voice impossible to hide.

“It’s not what you think. I am sorry,” he tried.

“Whatever,” you snapped. “Hey, Klaus!” He looked up with his mouth full of popcorn. “Introduce your brother, please.”

After dismissing him, with no other choice Five walked out to meet your friends.

Entering your kitchen, you got down some tumblers to pour everyone a glass of Five’s ‘you sucked my dick and then I rejected you,’ peace offering or whatever the fuck it was supposed to be.

“Gentleman, my ass,” you breathed before coming out to the living room with your hands full of the sloshing liquid.

Of course, there was nowhere to sit but next to him on your L-shaped couch. Five was at the hooked end, doing his best to look somewhat comfortable.

Like before they came, mostly everyone ignored the addition to the party as they zoned out, watching the movie, making comments here and there. As it was before, everyone was just chilling, lounged out on your furniture. Deputy Duey was being a dipshit that you couldn’t help but love, and terrified girls with big tits, and stupid horny guys ran for their life, screaming as the ghost-faced killer sliced and diced them.

It would have been great, exactly what you needed, but Five’s presence was making it anything but relaxing for you. He was so close; you could feel the heat of his leg next to yours as the silent tension between you grew. The way he was bouncing his knee made it clear he wasn’t feeling very comfortable either, but fuck him.

Nearing the end, when the masks came off, Five’s agitation had gotten noticeably worse. He could hardly hold still. You could tell he wasn’t okay. His hand laying against his leg was shaking. Not even thinking, you reached over, placing yours over it.

His breath hitched as he looked at you. “Excuse me,” he whispered, abruptly pushing himself up off the couch.

As he passed, Klaus gave his brother a worried glance, but you told him to stay put as you got up to follow Five.

Coming around the partition dividing your small living space, you saw that Five had himself leaned back against your kitchen counter, head down, pinching his forehead between two fingers.

“Not enjoying the movie?” you sarcastically asked.

Five pulled in a long breath AS he looked up at you. “I am afraid that as an ex-assassin, there is something about these tragically misguided young men happily stalking their prey before slicing them apart with blunt objects that hits a little too close to home.”

You blinked rapidly. “You’re kidding?”

His lip quirked up. “Not entirely.”

“Ah-huh,” you breathed before taking a long pull of your drink while glancing around the corner at the TV in the other room.

“At least part of the motivation for these two bonehead murderers being their secret love affair made this otherwise less than thrilling teen slasher film less boring,” Five furthered, seemingly a little less upset, almost playful as he smiled a little more when you looked at him again.

“What! NO! I love this movie,” you argued, forgetting that you hated him, even playing up how offended you were by his comment over your favorite scary movie. “And hell yes, them being mad as fuck for each other makes this better,” you agreed, followed by a laugh.

Five’s smile fell. “I wish I hadn’t done what I did the other night.”

“Then why did you?”

He ran his hand back, pushing his hair out his eyes, but it fell right back. “Because, when it comes to my family, it’s complicated, and not even factoring them into my life, I don’t know how to be with anyone, and I don’t know if I should be with anyone with the way I am anyway.”

“I don’t get it. If you’re ashamed-"

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, then he raised his voice. “I don’t care if the entire world knows how I feel about you!”

Klaus had been talking, but hearing that, the other room got very quiet.

“You are the first person I want to open myself to like this, or who has ever made me feel this way,” Five said, coming to you, his hands finding yours at your sides as he leaned into you. “I still want this more than anything, I just messed up because I am messed up.”

Coming closer, his lips touched yours so softly for just a fraction of a second. His eyes like gems, implored you-asking forgiveness.

“Since the other night, other than hating myself, I have wanted nothing more than to see your smile again,” he whispered, “even though what I did made it seem like I don’t care about you, that is about the farthest thing from the truth. Will you give me a second chance to show you how much you mean to me?”

You were pretty sure you couldn’t have made your lips form the word no, no matter how hard you tried.

“Are you sure you’re not embarrassed about this?” you questioned, your fingers making soothing circles along the undersides of his wrists.

Five smiled again. “I’m sure.”

“Prove it.”

“You forgive me then?”

“I’m working on it, but you have a lot of making up to do.”

Five’s hand moved around to your lower back, sliding up the back of your shirt, pulling you closer. You nudged his nose with yours.

“Like I said, prove it,” you softly repeated, daring him to show you that he meant what he said about not caring if his family or anyone else knew.

Five glanced over your shoulder, as if he could see your guests even though there was a wall in the way. His hand moved along your hip, slipping below the waistband of your sweatpants. “What do you have in mind for how I can prove it to you, handsome?”

He plucked the knot in your drawstring free, pulling the bunched cotton at your waist, loosening it so his hand could slip inside your pants.

“This, maybe?” he hummed against your ear, his fingers just under the elastic of your briefs.

You looked back at him with pleading eyes.

“Your bedroom is right over there but you want it right here, don’t you dirty boy?” he taunted.

There was no time for a comeback, only a shuttered breath before Five’s hand dove lower and you gasped at the sudden feeling of his finger abruptly entering you.

A devilish smile lit up Five’s face. “Awww… Wet for me already? Such a good boy,” he chuckled as his finger began to move, lovingly stroking the lubrication upwards.

You lowered your head against his neck, your body already tightening with pleasure from the feel of his finger rubbing against your clit.

Five kissed your forehead as you clung to him, his words tickling the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Wanna give our audience a show? You were amazing the other night, but I’m sure if we both try really hard, we can do better this time.”

You whimpered, trying to put your thighs together so you could increase the friction. Five brought another finger into the game trailing his digits up and down before flicking them against you, making you let out a small moan.

A shout came from the other room. “Hey! While you guys are in there, you should make some more popcorn!”

Twisting just enough, you snatched a bag of microwave pop off the counter, furiously tearing into the plastic with your teeth before spitting it out. You reached back, yanking the microwave open, carelessly tossing it in there without looking.

After you slammed the door shut, while smiling at you looking so fucking cocky, Five helpfully reached up, punching in the popcorn button before he hit start. He raised a brow. “Looks like I better get to work. We have a countdown, sweetheart.”

Moving his fingers quickly, jerking you hard, you let out a low groan that got much higher pitched when you felt the warmth of his erection nudging your hip.

Riding Five’s glorious fingers, but thinking of him slowly entering you with his heavy cock instead had your eyes rolling back in your head. The agonizing pace he was setting making your moans of complaint louder.

“That’s it, baby, louder,” he encouraged, gazing at you with half lidded eyes that were so beautiful.

“I need more,” you hissed, gritting your teeth.

“So needy,” he teased, just before his finger dipped inside you again, only this time crooked up just a little before he pulled it out again.

Then, just as you thought the bastard was going to really start finger fucking you, he slipped his hand out of your pants leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. After your waistband snapped against your tensed abs, Five brought his slicked finger to his mouth, making a naughty show of sucking it clean.  

“I fucking hate you!” you growled.

If he tried to leave you with blue balls again, you were going to kill him!

Five gave you a sly grin and you frowned. “I’m going to make you take that back,” he menacingly sang, then suddenly your pants and underwear were tugged down, and your legs were forcefully spread open by his knees wedging yours wide.

His hands come up your sides, moving under your shirt, over your rib cage. His eyes looked into yours, watching you for signs of distress as his fingers moved up, traveling over the flattened planes of your pecs.

You closed your eyes and you felt Five rest his forehead against yours.

His hand smoothed down to your hips again, stopping.

You took a deep breath.

“You are the most handsome man I have ever seen,” he breathed, throwing you off even more.

To say your senses were heightened was an understatement. Every sound your friends made in the other room only added to the tension brewing. All they had to do was come around the corner and they could see you back up against your counter with Five dominatingly standing between your legs as your pants and underwear lay in a heap at your ankles.

Five moved his forehead away from yours. “I will stop if you want me to. If not, you know what to say,” he soothed. “You want me to suck you off, right here. Right now. With them listening.”

 Little explosions started to go off inside the microwave.

 You had never been so hot and bothered in your life. You moaned desperately, “Five, you fucking-!"

"Shh...” Five teased as his hand moved up over your mouth to silence you. "Can’t have you getting too loud. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m in here doing awful things to you.” He leaned in, his breath ruffling the short ends of your hair, his words ominously intimidating. “I want to hear you beg.”

“Please,” you whimpered under his hot fingers.

"Sorry, what was that?" Five asked, sweet as honey while moving his hand a little so you could say it louder.

“Please!”

“That’s it.” Five’s sinful looking grin spread across his entire face.

He got down on his knees. Not taking his eyes off you, he pushed up your t-shirt just a little so he could leave a trail of wet kisses along the fine trail of hair leading from your belly button downward.

He let out a heavy breath, hovering over your sex. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” he said, then his tongue drug along your length before flicking against the tip of your swollen clit.

“Oh, FUCK,” you loudly cursed.

You tried to relax and keep your hips still as Five licked at you slowly, but with the way his tongue was pushing between your thickened folds it was impossible

A bitten whimper croaked out of you as he licked up a stripe while slowly palming his own dick. You lowered to your head, your fingers threading through his hair, tightening.

You gasped when Five began sucking you. His hum of approval and the sting of pleasure from his teeth accidentally dragging as he sucked a little too roughly, left your thighs shaking and the next thing you knew, you were grinding down on him trying to get more.

Undeterred, by you humping his face, Five continued to contentedly lap at you. At this point, you didn’t know what to focus on, the pleasure that was tearing through your veins, the screams coming for movie, the people who could come in the kitchen at any second, or the fact that there was no way Five was able to breathe correctly with the way he was going at it, his whole face buried between your legs, fucking you.

Everything clouded over. His hands were plastered to your thighs, his hair was sticking out in a million places, and his tongue kept probing inside your entrance, devouring you before he came back up to harshly flick at your clit again.

Your body fought against the invasive sensation. Vulgar noises were being forced out of you, but you couldn’t cum no matter how badly you wanted to.

The microwave beeped.

“I-I fff-fu-ah-ck,” you stammered as you tugged at Five’s dark waves, attempting to separate your throbbing sex from his mouth, but he wasn’t having any of that.

He grasped your waist, holding you in place, hungrily demolishing you. He was like an animal, the scratchiness of his very light stubble only adding to the brutality of what he was doing to you.

It felt like every nerve in your body was being touched at once. You were being torn apart more and more with each trail of his tongue and rub of his fingers, pinching and pulling you between forefinger and thumb as he sucked your clit like a dick.

As your orgasm hit, it felt electric, a flash after flash of hot white light.

Five made you cum so hard that you totally forgot that he was fisting his own cock, but he sure was, and he was loudly moaning while doing it and still sucking you with the most tender of kisses, making sure not to leave you until you’d ridden out all your crashing waves of pleasure.  

When he finally came up for air, his face from his eyes down was shining and his smug grin proved that he could have cared less that he was a mess.

 “So, did you enjoy cumming on my face?” he rhetorically questioned.

He lifted himself off the ground, staring at you as he leaned in, connecting your lips, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

“I am not sure. It was okay, I guess,” you said, smirking when he pulled away, wiping his face and then yours with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Maybe one more try, with a little more tongue and teeth this time and you’ll have a more definitive answer?” he suggested.

He started to drop back down, and even though your body felt like jello, you pulled him back up easily enough.

As you were reaching to pick up your pants, Five took advantage of you dropping your guard to quickly spin you around, your socked feet slipping on the floor before he aggressively pulled your hips out, making you present your ass to him.

You heard him hastily unhooking his belt, the metal clanking together before you heard his zipper coming down, then his body molded to your backside, the tip of his thick cock dangling between your legs.

“We aren’t done and I’m not stopping until they know you’re mine,” he said while lovingly massaging the side of your ass.

He started nudging himself against your inner thigh and you let out a little whimper. “So cute, just like your little dick,” he mocked. Then he moved his hand around you, tugging you out a little more from the counter so he could grope you, making you shudder.

He slapped your ass hard, the thwack sure to make everyone’s head in the other room spin in your direction. You jolted up. You heard your friends laughing, then Five spanked you again. "Fuck!” you cried, moving your ass against his cock even tighter.

“You really want it, don’t you baby,” Five growled in your ear, slapping your ass again.

“Please!" you begged with your head falling back against Five’s shoulder before rolling to the side so you could see him.

“You want danger?” he purred as he yanked up his shirt, letting his predatory eyes narrow at the sight of his cock wedged between your cheeks.

You said nothing, so, looking like a mad man, he reached up, taking hold of your neck.

You whined and squirmed in his grasp as his other hand cupped you bare. He slid his fingers inside as his thumb swirled over your slippery clit. Before you could make a sound, he started to choke you. 

He fingered your hole roughly, as he cut off the flow of oxygen to your brain. You couldn’t even think. You were drowning with desire, your body submitting.

Five started to rut his hips into you as you lost your mind, moaning into the palm of his hand.

That’s when Klaus called out. “How’s that popcorn coming, boys? Better not be any dick in it!”

As Five fucked into you and his second finger slide inside, you all but screamed through his fingers. “Mmmfff-fuck, Ff-ive!”

If Five hadn’t thought to muzzle you, you were being so loud, it wouldn’t just be the people in the living room aware of what he was doing to you.

As if that wasn’t enough, Five bit down on your shoulder through your shirt, thrusting as hard and as fast as he could go.

You felt your orgasm building all the way from your toes to your stomach. Your calves painfully flexed as you bucked your hips, trying to get more.

Five let out a moan of his own, and the pleasure of his fingers, the dizziness of being choked, along with the pain from his teeth marking had you clenching around his fingers.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of squelching, your moans, and Five’s sexy grunting.

Yanking your face back, he took his hand off your mouth, forcing his tongue onto yours, aiming to take you for all you were worth.

Your walls contracted around him, spilling fresh liquid pleasure with his every thrust.

His breath and his movements started getting more erratic, and he let out a few manic sounding noises.

He only stopped slipping his dick up and down your crack for a second to reposition himself. Apparently, the new angle was even better for him because when he started back up, his fingers in you started to move again too and that got you cursing and gasping into his hand again.

"Good boy. Let it out. Your pussy is mine now,” he growled, but he didn’t let you let it out as he clamped down on your mouth harder and slammed into you with all the energy he had.

You peaked again, him clinging to you, your stifled gasps hissing through his fingers.

“So perfect,” he breathed, then he let you free, the air filling your lungs doing nothing to clear your clouded mind and you helplessly slumped over.

One of his hands kept a tight hold on your hip, the other taking care of his own need. The sight of you bent over on the counter in front of him had Five grunting and growling as he stroked himself, his cum splattering all over your abused ass.

When Five was done, he crashed into you, pulling you up in a lovers embrace from behind, panting harder than he had been the entire time. The second he had enough air to speak, he did. “That was- Fuck."

You were out of it, legs shaking, mouth agape, head lolling to the side. He grabbed your face and languidly kissed you before breaking away, his lips moving along your sweat moistened neck as he said, “I want you and only you and I don’t care who knows. Don’t you ever question that again.”

“Ready or not, the men out here are demanding a proof of life check after that beautiful screaming performance, and we need more sustenance, so pull your pants up! I am coming in,” Klaus suddenly shouted.

Scrambling, you and Five both untangled yourselves. He snatched your hand towel off the counter, taking it to your butt cheeks, doing his best to wipe you first, then himself.

Dropping to the floor, he started pulling your sweatpants up, then sure you had them in hand, Five started trying to fix his own rumpled clothing.

“Is my little brother behaving himself?” Klaus questioned and by the way he said it, you could tell he had a huge smile even before he rounded the corner, eyeing you both up proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Five fired back, with his pants only just zipped up, the ends of his belt hanging in front of the prominent tent he was still sporting. 

“Oh, I don’t know… Sounded like you were getting a little frisky in here is all,” Klaus replied.

Five reached over, opening the microwave, throwing the bag of popcorn at his brother.

As one would expect, Klaus started tossing the bag, hand to hand. “Ouch! Hot! Hot!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. That’s how mind blowingly dazed you were. You could tell it took a great deal of effort for Five to pry himself from you and you were still having a hard time standing up straight, so you had no idea how he was composing himself so well but then again, he didn’t just cum three times.

“If only I could blink us out of here,” he muttered while sticking the prong of his belt through the length, tightening it as he looked at you fumbling the strings on your sweatpants.

“Blink?” you questioned, unable to stop laughing as you said it because for the life of you, you couldn’t perform the simple task of tying a knot.

“What my adorable brother is referring to,” Klaus said, “is a thing we used to call a thing he used to do.” He reached out, ruffling Five’s already fucked up hair. “He’s super fast, but you already knew that,” he said while winking at you, “He used to be able to blink or as the common man says, telapor-"

“If you don’t shut your yapper, I am going to shut it for you,” Five snapped, while reaching over to tie your pants up since you’d failed and they were already slipping down.

“Oh… Not going there yet. Okay,” Klaus said as he shrugged off whatever Five was angrily trying to get him to shut up about. “You two joining us for the second movie?” Klaus mumbled with a handful of freshly popped kernels in his mouth.

You looked at Five. He took you by the hand, grabbing the bottle of liquor off the counter in his other, leading you out there.

Moving to your spot on the couch, Five sat down first, pulling you down next to him. As soon as you were seated, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in tighter, his lower leg hooking yours to him as he took your throw blanket, tossing it over you both.

“So, you guys a thing now,” your buddy next to him asked while giving you a smart-ass grin.

Five glanced at you. He squeezed his hand that was already in yours. “Yes,” you firmly stated and just like the amazing friends they were, they all let it go. They could see this is what you wanted. It was written all over your hopeful face.

You leaned back against Five’s warmth, the comforting rise and fall of his chest reassuring you that everything was as perfect as it seemed.

Every so often, as his fingers absentmindedly trailed down your arm, Five would softly kiss the side of your cheek, then nuzzle his face into your hair.

~~~

When you woke, hours later to one of your friends leaving and Five attempting not to wake you as he quietly answered something his brother had just said, you had no idea what time it was.

“Klaus was planning on staying at my place,” Five whispered. “We have that family birthday thing early in the morning and we are riding together.” He slid you out from under him. “You want me to carry you to your room?” he asked, as he righted himself.

“I doubt you could,” you said back while smiling up at him in the dim light as you stretched your legs out, accidentally kicking your zonked out friend who was sprawled out on the other end of the couch.

“Goodnite,” Klaus whispered, before he went out the door.

Swooping down, Five gently kissed you and kept on kissing you until you started to laugh over how obviously he didn’t want to go. “Best night of my life,” he chuckled, his own smile stretching as he finally pulled away. “I’ll be back sometime early afternoon. Can I see you again?”

Stroking your fingers along his jaw, you whispered back, “You better.”

Five’s tired eyes softened even more. He brushed his lips against yours one more time.

Then he was gone.

~~~

Back to reality, your mind lost in a past that doesn’t exist anymore while your body remains stuck in a present form of hell you can’t escape, lying there in your bed, you keep trying to work through your memories of Five.

For his part, like he always does at night, Five stays with you in the only way he feels that he can, over 60 years of time separating you as he sits in his chair in front of the Infinite Switchboard.

After thrashing around in your blankets, reliving things you don’t want to let go, giving into your body’s most primal urges, you shove your hand in your pants, digging your fingers against your clit, tugging and pulling and rubbing. Breathing heavily, your release comes and goes way too fast, giving you nothing to replace the man you refuse to let go.

Finally, worn out and mentally broken, your breathing slows, and your eyes close.

You fall into a fitful sleep, your face pinched with the same stress it’s had since you entered your apartment earlier that night.

A few minutes before this, with his reddened eyes darting around as he tries to squash his own anguish, trying in vain to convince himself that what he’s seeing isn’t because of him, Five throws his arms down on the messy desk space, burying his face in the fold of his arm.

You’re upset, that much he is willing to admit.

You have old news clippings of him and his faded collector cards, and other silly trinkets from the days the Umbrella Academy meant something to the world.

You only have his.

Going through the list of issues in his head, Five comes up with only more problems with all this.

All that is something, but it's not like you would be harboring some old crush on the nerdy little 13-year-old he was in those pictures, because back when those cards were cool, you were only four years old! Back then, you probably didn't even know your address, let alone who the kids who lived at the Umbrella Academy were. But despite that, you clearly have something going on and it’s clearly aimed at him.

You moan repeatedly as the blankets covering you shuffle.

“Fuck…” Five breathes as he looks up, realizing what you are doing.

What you have going on is clearly at least partially a horny thing, and an angry thing, and fuck, fuck, FUCK!

Five can’t stop looking at you writhing against your hand.

He shifts his legs apart, refusing to give his hardening cock the attention it's screaming for. It’s bad enough that he’s watching you jerk off, but doing that with you, like this…

No.

“God damn it!” he curses, kicking his legs out, throwing his hands back behind his head as he forces himself to look at the floor.

No one else remembers, so there is no way you do! 

This has to be something else causing this, right?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looks back up. Your breaths are slowing. Your hand slips up along your stomach, laying limply against your t-shirt.

Your eyes stay closed and Five wants so badly to kiss the lids covering them. Since he can’t, he does what he’s always done, he imagines the things he wants.

Shutting his own eyes, he imagines himself there with you, protectively folded around you, your bodies illuminated by the muted silhouettes from the leaves fluttering outside in the canopy of trees outside your window. 

He can almost feel himself kissing the moonbeam dancing across your cheek, flickering along the ridge of your nose-almost.

There’s no warmth to this dream, no sensation of your touch lovingly holding him back.

This is all there had ever been for Five for nearly a lifetime, but now, thanks to you, he knows what it’s like to have something real, and now he is drowning in the shocking reality of his endless loneliness.

Chilled, but unwilling to move to an office to throw himself down on something more comfortable, when his breathing melts into a rhythm of rest, Five floats away with you, going into a nightmarish dreamscape, a place moments before the world fell apart and he lost you.

~~~

As your sleep deepens, you start tossing and turning, your mind projecting images of you bursting out the doors of your apartment. You didn’t care how terrified you were or that you had no weapon to defend yourself against whatever was happening. You had to get to Five.

You took off, sprinting down the sidewalk in the direction of the explosions, rather than in the opposite direction like everyone else was doing.

The sky was casting a strange glow of orange and violet light over everything. It looked like an alien landscape, not the loud city with its shops and business filled with people doing normal things, unless you considered running for their life normal.

You knew it was crazy for you of all people to think you could do anything to help, but it was also crazy that the Five apparently had superpowers, but you'd seen it for yourself on your TV, and the people with him did too.

You kept on, moving along, seeing the destruction getting worse the closer you got to where the news had shown the fighting.

The air near the ground was thick with black smoke as you got closer, but you kept going, knowing from what you’d seen on the news that Five was there, but nothing could have prepared you for it when you rounded a corner and saw all of them. Like some kind of science fiction movie on crack, everywhere you looked, unexplainable things were happening that shouldn’t be.

It was madness, all of it, the way Five was disappearing and reappearing, the way they were shooting laser beams from their eyes and throwing cars like they were nothing. Klaus was there too, like some kind of oracle, casting his hands out, making phantom-like figures appear out of nowhere, all the luminous bodies he’d created readily joining the fight.

Either brave or stupid, you started to cross the battlefield of flipped cars that lay between you and them, staying down, trying not to get hit by the barrage of bullets and other things flying in your direction.  

Five was yelling, calling for everyone to get together. He wasn’t okay, you could see that. He was staggering, trying so hard to stand in the storm that was enveloping him.

He fell to his knees, screaming for them. 

Blood smeared across his face as his hand came up, wiping his cheek. 

The blood was gushing from his nose and seeping down his neck from his ears, but he kept screaming for them. The near blinding light kept growing, extending out from his hands and entire body.

Between broken car windows, you watched as the group gathered around him, two of them looking like they were sending out some kind of force field that was keeping them safe from the bullets and the fire-like aura that was glowing down from the sky.

Then, to your horror, you realized the fire was actually coming from some of them. Their flesh was cracked and blackened, like lava was running under their skin.

They were burning. 

Five was burning!

Your voice cut through the air, penetrating the chaos. “FIVE!”

Just then, extreme pain was the only way to describe what you felt. 

A deafening blast sent you flying, slamming your spine against the door of an upside-down car. Pain radiated through you. You reactively curled in on yourself. You desperately clasped your hands over your ears, trying to block out the high-pitched sound that was trying to stab your brains out, but you painfully realized that the ringing wasn’t something you could stop.

You could hardly move, gasping for air that wouldn’t fill your lungs, but then suddenly Five was next to you, eyes wide, searching you over, saying something, but all you could see was his lips moving as his hands frantically moved over you, trying to cover all the places where your clothes were becoming wet with blooming circles of red.

You watched Five’s mouth repeating the words, “I will fix this.” He was saying it over and over.

Then, just like that, stinging pelts of liquid hit your face as the side of Five’s skull ripped open.

You watched as if in slow motion as the inside of his head spilled out like a macabre brain soup. Then you watched in horror as he tumbled over, your shell-shocked body not working fast enough to catch him.

The side of Five’s ashen face slammed into the glass covered concrete.

Scrambling to your knees, you pulled him to you, his broken head rolling limply in your lap as you screamed. 

Your tears mixed with his blood. 

You didn’t even notice Klaus until he was right there. He came sprinting to a stop a few yards away, seeing you and his brother.

“Help him,” you begged. You refused to take your eyes from Five’s, then Klaus took off, shouting something.

“No, no, no! Please, no!” you wailed as Five remained motionless, legs twisted in a way that made him look so small.

Five was not small. He was strong and he was…

He was everything.

Suddenly a wind from nowhere started whipping up tiny bits of debris from all around you. Looking up, you saw the impossible. There was a ghostly image of Five out in the street next to his brother where they were standing in a blue-ish purple electrical storm filled with glistening marigold, fire and light.

You could see Five over there, but he was also still with you, his warm blood matting his dark strands of hair, coating your fingers as you cradled his head as if you could fix the damage done to him if you willed the hole in him closed, but his empty green eyes continued to stare off at nothing.

The torrents of energy that Five had been violently projecting before he’d appeared over by you grew stronger, making it near impossible to make out anything happening over by them, but you were able to see him out there, lightning filled hands clenched like claws as fire like sparkles swirled around him and the strange static and twinkling lights of power weren’t just coming from Five. It was coming from all of them, as if mixing.

Dazed, and evidently not stable, they all simultaneously fell to their knees, but Five didn’t this time.

His face was no longer spattered with his blood as he looked up, past his siblings as they fell to the ground as if they were puppets whose strings had just been cut.

As your eyes met, it was as if you were seeing Five for the first time ever, seeing all versions of him, and it wasn’t just happening to him, though the ghostlike projections of Five were dramatically different compared to those of his siblings. He was older in some of them, but you were sure it was him, with that funny mustache and his same soft eyes.

Five was that man, and then he wasn’t again, he was just a boy, so young, so angry, nothing but skin and bones, his tormented face covered in ash and grime. 

All of them, all the different versions of them were morphing, snapping together with alternate images of themselves, like a flip book that’s pages clapped with thunder as they turned.

Then, out of nowhere, out of anyone who could have been out there in all that madness, Reginald Hargreeves, the richest man in the world, was towering over you. His expression was serene as he looked down at the dead boy you were crying over. Then he looked up, his expression not scared at all as he said, “Hold on to him. It will all be over soon.”

Bleeding out and going into shock, you looked back out at the other Five. Even in the distance, you could see his mouth. 

His mouth! The one you knew intimately, pulled up just a little as he gave you a dreamy smile, as if he was seeing something in all this that you couldn’t.

You screamed Five’s name as the ball of fire inside him began to consume what was left of his crumbling body.

“No!” you cried, but this time Five couldn’t hear it.

The bubble around them burst, life and death, creation and destruction, you, Five, all of it and time itself, all tied to him and the tale of rebirth, and it was coming for you in a wall of fire.

Your own terrified scream echoing inside your head was the last thing you heard.

Then you were all gone.

~~~

“NO!” You cry out, trying to free yourself from your knotted blankets. You’re in the darkness of your bedroom again, no longer holding Five’s dead body while you watched the ghost of him in the distance, being taken away by an otherworldly fire.

Your heart feels like it could rip out of your chest, it's pounding so hard.

Your hands come up, digging at your eyes as if you can make it all go away, but the heat of your tears is as real as the pain of losing him. “Please no,” you helplessly whimper as you pull your legs up under your arms so you can drop your head between your knees. “I need you, Five,” you sob, your body shuddering.

“I am here, please don’t cry, I am so sorry.”

Your head shoots up, your eyebrows flying halfway up your face, the thumping in your chest threatening to do you in as you blink, over and over, seeing Five right there, at the side of your bed, looking like he just woke up, but looking as beautifully disheveled in his three-piece suit as he always does.

“Ff-Five?” your voice cracks.

“Hey, handsome,” he quietly breathes as he sinks down on the bed next to you, his legs dangling over the side as he reaches over, gently brushing a sweat-dampened piece of hair out of your eyes.

“You you-you-"

“I know,” Five says, pulling you to him.

Arms around him, he squeezes you tight. You breathe in, your face buried against his collar because you’re still not sure he’s real.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but-” He stops, pulling back enough to make you look at him. His eyes glaze over in thought as he lets out a shaky breath. “No one else but us remembered, and I didn’t-" His teary words catch in his throat. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never should have-” A single tear rolls down his cheek. “I never should have let this happen, but nothing could have prepared me for you and how you made me feel, and I- Even if you remember me, I shouldn’t be here, but I heard you crying, and I had to-"

He tries to pull away.

“NO! Don’t you dare go!” You give Five’s shoulders a little shake, “Don’t you dare leave me again! And what the hell do you mean you heard me? Where were you, in my fucking closet!”

“No, I was pathetically hiding out in a musty old office building in 1955.”

“Okay- Okay-" Your heart is racing so hard you can’t think but that makes no sense. “What the fuck, Five!”

He lowers his face like he wants to disappear and that only makes you cling to him tighter.

“The place I am talking about, and my association with it is a long story,” he starts, “-and I promise I will tell you everything if you want me to, but the reason I was there now was because it’s the only place I could go to see you.” He looks up, his eyes filling. “There’s a machine I invented, it lets the operator dial in places and times. I have missed you so fucking much,” he rambles, clearly spiraling, but you refuse to let him go no matter how confused and mad you are.

“Look, the things you say are just- Yeah.” You let out a puff of air, shaking your head over all this craziness. “But I want you! I don’t care about the rest!"

“I’m not who you think I am. I have done so many horrible things,” he interrupts.

“Five, I know that you are so many more things than what I thought you were in the beginning, but I want all of them. I saw you! All of you! You had a mustache for Christ Sake! I know who you are!”

“You don’t know all of it,” he whispers.

“I don’t care! You saved us. I don’t understand it, but I know you did. You were the only one in the end before everything disappeared. I thought you were dead!”

“I know.”

“You told me that I’m the first person you wanted to open yourself up to,” you continue, “Did you mean it when you said that?”

His lower lip quivers as he nods. “I meant every word of it, and you are still all I want.”

“Then don’t leave me again!” you shout at him, pushing him down on your bed.

Five still looks totally lost but with your insistence, he surrenders himself to you heavily crawling on top of him.

Fully reclined, you throw your leg over his, coming down at his side to tuck your head under his chin, effectively detaining him but letting him breathe. You can hear his heart hammering in his chest as he looks down at you peering up at him. 

His eyes search yours he quietly asks, “Are you sure you still want this?”

“Yes, I am sure,” you insist.

His long fingers trace a line up your back, skating the surface of your shirt.

“Please talk to me, Five. I meant it when I said I want this with you more than anything.”

“Why?” he questions, sounding so dejected.

You sit up, straddling him so you can keep him trapped but also take him on, face to face. “Because even with all the crazy things you told me, knowing what I know now, I think you were telling me the truth about all of it, and you know what, I am not scared. I don’t care how old you are, or if you were an assassin. I don’t care what you’ve done to get here. All that matters is you are.”

“You mean that?” he whispers, reaching around you, his long fingers tracing a soothing line up your back.

You nod and his hand comes up, moving to the back of your head, pulling your lips to his in a chaste kiss that ends all too fast.

You try to kiss him again but Five turns his head, squirming away, not letting you.

Your eyebrows come together in frustration.

“You know… For all my mistakes, I finally thought I had it all figured out, but then this…” His voice trails off as his hands move around your backside, grabbing your ass. “This never should have happened. You weren’t supposed to remember, but you evidently do, or you wouldn’t be trying to hump my leg because you know that getting me hard is going to help you get your way.”

You look down where your crotch is pinning his quad, and he laughs.

You’re just about to tell the asshole you are not trying to hump his leg when he says, “The reason I think you remember,” He cracks a sad smile, making him look so beautifully broken, “The reason you remembered, is because I fell in love with you. A part of you was with me in the end and I couldn’t let it go. You’re a part of me now whether you like it or not.”

“You love me?”

“More than anything.”

In the subsequent silence, your shoulders wither, a single thought floating among the sea of worries in your mind.

You love him too.

You come at him, there’s no stopping you from kissing him. Like you are doing to him, Five’s hands grasp at your body, everywhere they can reach, caressing, groping, pinching, anything to feel each other. 

Jutting your cunt across his thigh, you assault his lips, drawing your teeth across his pout in retribution for him thinking you wouldn’t want this.

Stroking his neck, his hands holding you in place, he moans as you grind his leg. Adding to your pleasure, Five begins exploring your neck with his tongue, tasting your skin, licking the sweat of your nightmare clean off as you rut into him, panting and gasping, filling the quiet of the small room.

Boldly sticking your hand down your pants, rubbing your cock, you lower your voice as deep as you can as you ask, “Did you watch me do this?”

“Yes,” Five rasps, his hands moving down, suddenly taking you by the waist. Like lightning striking, the air around you lights up, every nerve ending in your body comes alive as you’re flung through a swirling storm of sapphire, coming back to the present a millisecond later with your back slamming on your mattress.

Head still spinning, Five falls over you from the air, his body still glowing in his whirl of magical light. His irises dance with embers as he dives in, kissing your neck again.

“What. The Fuck Was That? Did you just teleport me?” you deliriously groan as he attacks you.

"No, I blinked you," he corrects, "It's a spontaneous reaction to having a very naughty boy trying to fuck my lap,” Five informs you with his lips at your earlobe, before kissing down, gnawing on your jaw, as he attempts to blindly unbutton his shirt.

Oh, my God, this man...

Not satisfied with the speed, you begin to help him, and his smile at your impatience is almost as hot as the sight of him laying over you, shrugging it off. Five is nothing but lean valleys of muscle, all pointing to the dangerous weapon he’s packing in his pants, but interestingly enough, his famous Umbrella Academy tattoo on his wrist isn’t the only tattoo he’s got.

Seeing geometrically balanced circles and lines criss-crossing in the middle of his chest must have you making the funniest looking face because Five starts laughing.

“This,” He points to the black and gray washes of ink marking him. “This is evidence of one of my many blunders through time, but it’s worth the pain and looking like a fucking idiot if it means I get to see you looking at me like that.”

You trace the lines. “You are beautiful, Five, all of you.”

“As long as you think so, because I think I’m stuck with it now,. I am a complete package of the old me, the young me, and the tattooed and very fucking horny me,” he says before much more seriously asking, "You ok taking yours off too?"

You nod and Five dips low, using his nose, he starts nudging your t-shirt shirt up. He playfully sucks and nips you all the way up to one of the darkened pink scars under your pecs. Your breath hitches as he traces a line over it with his fingertip, then slowly begins to kiss you there too, his teeth grazing your nipple for good measure.

“So perfect,” he hums, sending a direct signal from you’re the now hardened nub all the way down to your groin. 

As you’re reeling over him saying that and the feeling of him flicking his tongue across your other pec, Five’s hands start moving up your sides, slowly lifting your shirt over your head.

Your legs tense, fighting against the growing ache between them as Five kisses down your torso, marking you where the skin dips at your hip, the palm of his hand hot as it rests over your abs, firmly holding you down.

Already trembling, you let out a small cry of desperation.

Gazing up at you with his pupils blown dark with desire, Five tears open the button holding your jeans closed. Lifting for him, he pushes your remaining clothes down your flushed thighs.

With you fully naked, your bodies roll slightly as Five comes down on the bed next to you. You spread your legs and just as fast, he reaches between them, rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger.

You gasp your approval, “Fuck yeah, don’t stop.”

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Five groans, just below your ear, sending a shiver zipping up your spine as a gush of wet drips out of you. “I can’t get enough of your dick,” he says while playfully pecking your jaw.

“Same,” you gasp, your enlarged clit so sensitive, you can’t help but whine like a puppy when his hand starts to firmly rub it.

Your hand reactively grips his shoulder painfully hard the faster he goes, and his eyes narrow dangerously in response.

Knowing without words what you need, barely thirty seconds into it, two fingers start jabbing inside you, aiming at your sweet spot.

“Holy fuck,” you breath before Five can capture your mouth in a hard kiss again.

As your hips jerk into his hand, Five’s hand snakes down along your side to rub his own cock, all the while he never stops sucking at your neck or giving you needly little licks in between his kisses. Soon the nips get hard enough to make you throw your head back, thrashing.

With Five jerking himself, bucking against you, your hands grip at the sheets, hanging on for dear life as your walls start spasming.

Even though you’re flailing, moaning loud as your hips jerkily fuck into his fingers, you can hear that Five is humming all sorts of dirty things, the vibrations of his words against your throat sending your brain even further down the spiral of your fuckedy fuck land.

Having brought you over the edge, he pulls out. His hand on your thigh moves around you, gripping your ass to pull you in closer as he rolls on top of you.

Five licks at your lips before he slides his hands down to the back of your thighs to pick you up, grinding your crotch into his restrained shaft. “God, I want to fuck you so badly,’ he growls before crashing your lips together again.

Five’s powerful body bears down on you, the drag of his cock between your legs too much but also not enough. Encouraging him to keep up what he was doing, only with his pants off, you try to push his pants down, even as he’s still urgently rocking his hips into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, his teeth grazing your neck as he gasps for air. His hips twitch to a stop at the feeling of his cock about to spring free.

“I want all of you, Five,” you breathe, holding his cheeks under your palms as you pull his head up, making him look at you.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything. I love you, Five.”

His soft eyes light up as if this wasn’t already obvious. He smiles down at you with an adoring look, caressing your face and pushing your hair aside as you blush under his loving gaze. He leans in to kiss along your jaw and down your neck as he scrambles to remove his pants with you helping him along, hooking your fingers under his tailored waistband, dragging them down his thighs, pushing them the rest of the way off with your feet.

“Oh Fuck,” Five groans as he lowers back down and his cock slips over the moist heat between your legs.

Instinctively, he starts to rut against you again. Before you can do more than hum a moan through your pinched lips, you feel the head of Five’s dick align with your throbbing hole. 

“Protection?” Five impatiently asks, coming to a full stop.

Drunk with desire, all you can do is shake your head no, but the message is clear. You don’t need it.

Tenderly squeezing your ass, with his eyes locked to yours and his voice barely above a whisper, Five asks, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you breathe, keeping your fingers threaded in his thick dark hair, holding him in place with one hand, the other sliding from his muscular back to gripe his shoulder.

He starts to push slowly. “Aw fuck” you moan as just the head of his cock slips in. You throw your head into the pillow, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

Five’s warm breath slowly fans over your neck. He’s not moving a single inch. “Does it hurt?”

“It- It’s good,” you huff, letting out a tense breath as you lift your hips higher, letting him know you can take it.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, as your body tightens and quivers along the thick length slowly filling you.

Not even full deep, your brain feels like it’s just flashed on and off and it’s not at all working right.

"You’re so fucking gorgeous," Five patiently huffs, his focus on gauging your every reaction, holding himself still as possible.

“More,” you whine.

You clench involuntarily, letting out a low moan when Five works his hips forward, then back a little, a pleasant change that has you twitching for him even more.

He dips to kiss you, gasping for breath as he opens you even more. Too much for him at once, he takes his kisses to your neck.

He takes a moment to pull half-out of you before digging back in. Firm, slow, and steady, he fucks his hips into you while he bears down with a hiss. Your walls clench him tight, the extra pressure drawing out a moan from both of you.

Your eyes flutter closed as your fingers scratch against Five back. His hips press up, aiming to get as deep as possible, where he stays for one moment before pulling out and thrusting halfway in again and again.

"Fuck, Five, fuck," you slur out as your body begins to slip and slide across your sheets.

He grabs hold of your knee, pushing it back to meet your shoulder, falling into you deeper on his next thrust and you let out wet gasp, before he starts fucking you at a maddening pace, in and out, in shallow thrusts.

As he looks between your bodies, watching with an adorable fascination as his cock disappears inside you, you cry out, “Faster.”

Five obliges.

He really starts moving and the feel of him pumping his whole length inside you has your body arching and writhing up from the bed, lips parted in broken moans that fill the room and your entire apartment and probably your entire floor.

“Yes, Five. Fuck yes! “Don’t stop-fucking-fff,” you stammer, moving your ass up slightly which drives him deeper and brings on more breathless curses from you both. He’s so deep each time his body meets yours he’s knocking the wind from your lungs in breathy consonants and vowels of nonsense.

“Mmmmffff- aaah-ahhh-"

“Fuck-you-rrr-such-ah-good-boy, so tight,” he incoherently gasps along with you, as he pistons his cock into you, his thick tip fucking your cunt just right.

You’re plunging into a freefall, the coiling inside you causing you to cry out his name. At the sound of it, Five’s mouth finds yours, sloppily kissing you.

You’re both breathing too heavily for the kiss to last very long because breathing through your noses isn’t giving either of you enough oxygen. Breaking away, his forehead presses to your shoulder, a curtain of his dark hair falling around it as his strong pelvic slams into you.

"Please- fuck- harder-" you plead, and your magical super boy grants your wish.

Your eyes roll back in your head as Five pounds you harder and faster. Head spinning, your heart feeling like it might burst, your entire body is screaming for release.

“Come on, cum for me,” Five growls before resting his palm over your clit, thrusting his hand in time to his hips.

Your brain is getting shook loose with each slam of his body smacking into yours, and your bed frame isn't doing much better as it creaks and thumps into the wall in a pattern that matches your curses.

"Fuck- Fuck- FUCK-"

You’re reduced to disjointed moans as you fall apart. Shaking head to toe through a mind-melting orgasm, the throbbing intensity as you cum hits you over and over until it completely overwhelms your senses and leaves you speechless.

“That’s right, cream on daddy’s cock,” Five encourages as he quickly flips his head back, his dampened hair falling right back in front of his eyes as he smirks.

“Five- Fu-ffff,” you wetly gasp.

“Ready for another one?” he asks, still undulating his cock as he quirks an eyebrow.

“Ww-wah? How are you doing this,” you ask, meaning how the fuck is he still fucking you! He said he’d been with someone else before, but… Fuck!

His smirk only gets bigger. “Lots of practice with a very receptive inanimate object, named Dolores,” he replies. “Now roll over. Don’t make me count to three,” he warns, before suddenly pulling out, leaving you reeling, his hands on your hips, rolling you over before he pulls your ass high in the air.

The heat of his cock hits your entrance with zero resistance and your body jumps forward when you feel his balls hit your ass.

That move gets you both hissing out strings of discombobulated profanities again as Five holds himself stock still, his eyes closing tight as if he’s in pain..

“Dolores?” you manage to choke.

“Desperate times,” he huffs in way of explanation, then just as the shocking statement he just made and the jolt of him bottoming out is starting to subside, Five smacks your ass, and he’s back to it, fucking into you with a relentless pace.

“Fu-ua-uch-yea-ah, so good,” he disjointedly praises as he rides your ass, hooking his feet inside your ankles so you can’t close your legs.

Your body tightens as his thrusts speed up. You shudder, mouth falling open with a shocked moan as you feel Five’s cock rutting against your insides, demanding every inch of your attention.

With your face down in your mattress, you gasp against moistened fabric. Your shaky fingers clutch at your fitted bedsheet, Five’s brutal pace making steady smack, smack, smack sounds.

You still have no idea how he’s doing it, but Five just keeps on going like his real superpower is that he’s the fucking Energizer Bunny.

Pulling your limp body up to his, Five’s face nuzzles against the back of your neck, hips rolling hard and fast, the sweat from your flush bodies only making it easier for him to fuck into like he’s a well-oiled machine.

“God, you’re magnificent. You feel so fucking good,” he breathes.

"Hnn-mm-unh, uh, uh, please, please-" you moan.

“I’m gonna cum inside you. And you’re gonna cum with me,” Five growls, bearing down on you harder.

You cry out, your next orgasm hitting you as Earth shattering at the first two. You’re shivering, open-mouthed and helpless as you start to feel his warmth spreading with each thrust, Five’s hips jerking slower and slower as he empties his throbbing cock.

He hisses, moaning out a melody of expletives as his hips stutter to a near halt. He just came hard, but that doesn’t stop him as he rolls you against the mattress, coming down next to you, his cock pumping into you a few more times until you’re both left panting and boneless.

He kisses the nape of your neck and tenderly brushes a sweaty strand of your hair from the side of your face. Five stays connected to you until your chests are both rising and falling much slower, then his softening length slips out on its own, a white ribbon of cum immediately spilling out of you, the feel and sight of it making Five let out the softest whimper of distress.

Not letting you go, he kisses your temple.

"That was amazing," he contentedly breathes.

You huff out a sigh in agreement, cheeks flushed, gaze half lidded.

"I didn’t hurt you?" he whispers, a hand coming up to brush over your jaw, so gently. The concern for your wellbeing is reflected in Five’s soft green eyes as he pulls himself up on a wobbly elbow to look at you better.

“Not at all," you mutter with a weak smile as you pull your blankets over, throwing them over both of you.

Five’s hair is sticking up in just about every direction and it’s only adding to the beauty of his dazed grin.

“I’m never leaving you again, that’s unless you make me,” Five murmurs as he lays back down, kissing your shoulder. 

“I can’t see that happening, unless you get all boring, getting up early, only to take afternoon naps on my couch before you finish your old man day with one of your exhilarating crossword puzzles rather than finding new ways you can pounce on me and spank my ass.”

He laughs. There’s an impish glint in his eyes, like the twinkles of distant starlight.

“Awww, sweetheart,” he mocks. “You make all my favorite hobbies sound like bad things” 

You lean into his touch, sighing in contempt before gently whispering, “Go to sleep and I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

Obediently shutting his droopy eyes, he whispers I love you. Then the prick sneakily pulls his hand back, then smacks you in the ass, making you yelp like a little girl.

Ass burning, your heart is full.

This is Five. The wonderful, amazing, sexy jerk you fell in love with.

Next to you, almost as soon as the quiet fills the space between you again, you can tell he’s drifting off to sleep.

Five is finally home.

You roll over just enough to watch him sleeping. 

He looks so peaceful. Like a very naughty angel. The best kind.

You kiss his forehead, and he pulls you back in, making you his little spoon.

Laying there, still trying to take in everything that just happened, you think about all the times Five made jokes about his traumatic life and his loneliness. You caught stolen glimpses of his pain in his sweet but sad smiles, shaking his head, eyelids fluttering closed as he determinedly set his jaw, acting like his memories didn’t hurt him.

Five tried to build a wall around his heart, the barriers entrenched by years of grief, but it all came crashing down at the world’s end. 

Now it’s time for happiness. 

~~~~~~~

Masterpost

Link to my other Tumblr story/art/and asks

Link to visit me direct on A03tua

[tkwrites]

I can't belive you're here. - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Photo from Pinterest

Title: I can't believe you're here.

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts

Warnings: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Captain kink unlocked, oral & fingering (f receiving), squirting, swearing, surprise visit, if I missed anything, please let me know.

Summary: After a very long time apart due to bad timing, Sarah surprises Quinn on the road. Wearing his jersey, she fulfills one of his long harbored fantasies. The night just gets better when he sees what she has on underneath. 

Word Count: 6,000

Comments:

Hoo boy. This is by far the most depraved thing I’ve written. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

If you did enjoy it, please let me know! Your comments and questions inspire me to keep writing!

To the lovely anon who requested this: I hope it lives up to your expectations. I had so much fun writing it.

Anonymous asked: 'In some ways, he’d love to see his name across her back, but not at a game.' Ohhh, I'd love to see something about this in the future. Later on in their relationship, he's on a roadie and not seen Sarah for 4 weeks due to it and some study trip prior. He has just played either Brady or his brothers who noticed he's really down and missing her, they call Sarah and organise to fly her to his next destination to suprise him after the game. She's waiting in his hotel room, wearing nothing but his jersey to cheer him up after a loss 😉 Or a more wholesome storyline of her first WAG jacket or something aha Absolutely love all your pieces and can't wait to continue reading of their universe xx

I can't believe you're here.

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Fatigue and failure were deep in his bones as he walked into the hotel. 

Logically, Quinn knew winning streaks always come to an end. It was impossible to have a perfect 82 game season. No one had ever come close to that. 

It didn't matter how much he tried to reason, it still felt like shit to be on the receiving end of a shut out after two straight losses. 

The fact that they were still on the road didn’t help. The fourteen day trek away from home was always terrible, no matter when it fell in the season, but having it come right after Sarah had to be at a conference was torture. It meant he hadn’t seen her in over 12 days. 

It was terrible timing. The day after he got back from the six day Midwest road trip, she left for a seven day ocean conservation conference in Costa Rica. She got back two days after he had to leave again. 

It had been nineteen long days since he'd seen her for more than fifteen hours. 

They talked and sent messages and photos, but it wasn’t the same as talking face to face and kissing her and feeling her skin and smelling her perfume. 

He’d learned from the past and brought her pillowcase with him, but even that was beginning to smell less and less like her.

He only had to get through three more games and five and a half more days before he'd be back home and in her arms. 

One of the team assistants ran up to him in the lobby, “Hughes,” he said, a little breathless, “they changed your room.” 

“What?” he asked, trying to pull himself from his misery and back to the present.

“They had to change your room. Something about the heater being broken,” Sean said. 

“Okay. Petey still with me?” 

“No, they had to separate you,” Sean forced the key into his hand as they stepped on the elevator, “I already moved your bags.” 

He’d slept four quick hours in a room that felt perfectly fine before heading to the pre-game meeting and meal. He couldn’t remember if he’d left his stuff all over the bathroom counter. Hopefully, Sean didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Quinn definitely owed him dinner. 

The room was dark when he walked in. And it smelled like… it smelled like Sarah’s smoky vanilla perfume. 

Fuck. He missed her so much, his mind was playing tricks on him. 

At least he would have a room to himself, and could call her in peace without the threat of Petey listening in. They could probably even get some phone sex in, which hadn’t happened for far too long. 

Then, he would get a full night's sleep before their flight to Chicago. That, in itself, was a rare luxury he was outrageously thankful for. 

When he flipped on the light, the first thing he noticed was the king size bed. The bedspread was mussed, as if someone had been lying on it. Strange for any hotel, but especially one this nice. Rooms he came into often looked so pristine, it was as if no one had ever stepped foot in them before. 

He pushed the worry out of his mind and started toward the bathroom. 

“Hey.” 

Great, now he was hallucinating. It sounded like Sarah was right behind him. He must be more tired than he thought. 

“Quinn?” 

He stopped dead in his tracks, backpack nearly slipping to the floor. If he turned and she wasn’t here, he didn’t know what he’d do. 

A touch grazed his shoulder, and a strong whiff of her perfume made his knees shake. “Sarah?” he asked, hoping against hope. Why would she be here? 

“Yeah,” she said. 

He turned and felt a strange, strangled sort of gasp escape his throat. 

Sarah was in his hotel room. She was here. She was in Boston. How was she here? 

When his brain finally reconciled the fact that she was actually in front of him, he noticed she was wearing his flying skate jersey. 

“I - how?” 

She smiled softly, set his backpack aside and wrapped her arms around him.  

His body caught on before his brain did, hugging her against him fiercely.

Coming home from her conference in Costa Rica, which had been lovely but incredibly socially exhausting, all Sarah had wanted was to fall into bed with Quinn. When she came home to a dark and empty house, it had been a rude reminder he was on the longest road trip of the year. The apartment felt too big without him in it, especially for so long. 

“I missed you so much,” she said into his neck. 

“How did you do this?” he finally asked.

He’d known other players' wives and girlfriends occasionally showed up on road trips, but generally, their partners always knew, and it was usually because they were close by one of their hometowns. 

“Brady called me. He said you were so sad and not yourself on Wednesday, he wanted to do something. So he bought me a ticket and called Brock to get the schedule.” 

He sniffed and she pulled back.

“Oh, Quinn,” she said upon seeing the tears pooled in his eyes.

“I’m just…” The shock of seeing her brought all his emotion up to the surface.

“I know,” she said, pulling him into her again, feeling a few tears slip down her own cheeks. It felt so good to hold him.  

His mouth landed on her neck. It was a comforting thing to taste her skin as they embraced. He mumbled something against her. 

“Sorry?” she asked, trying to pull away so she could see his face. 

He didn’t want to let her go, not even for a second. Instead, he lifted his lips just enough so he could repeat, “I missed you so much.” 

“I know Quinny,” she said, running her fingers into his hair. “I missed you, too, but I’m here now, and we have all night.” 

His mouth was still on her neck, though he’d started moving with more intent, licking and kissing. The shock to his system was giving way to relief and desire. 

Finally fed up with his teasing, Sarah took his jaw in her hands and forced his head up so she could kiss him. 

He sighed into it, and found some way to pull her tighter against him. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was wearing his jersey, but the shock of her in his hotel room, seeing her face and her blue eyes and her lips - god her lips, he couldn't get enough of them - stole all of his brain power. Now, as his hands splayed across her back, feeling the numbers patched and stitched there, the reality of it hit him. 

Forcing himself to break away so he could look at her, his knees threatened to buckle when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything else - not that he could see anyway. The fabric hit her upper thigh, leaving much of her legs bare.

“I -” he tried to say something, but lost the words. 

The idea of wearing his jersey came from Emma. Sarah thought it was cheesy, but Emma assured her he’d love it. She’d surprised Brady at the end of a roadtrip like that, and “I swear his brain, like, short-circuited or something. He just stood there, staring at me for like 30 seconds before he went wild.” 

It didn’t surprise her Quinn didn’t have the same immediate reaction. He was so much quieter than Brady, and from what she could tell, they had a much more subdued relationship than the Tkachuks. 

The way he was looking at her now, though - like she was the thing he'd been anxiously waiting for on Christmas morning - made it all worthwhile.  

“I borrowed it, I hope that’s okay.” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. 

When they were apart, the mechanics of an orgasm could be there, but it just wasn't as good. It could never be. She missed feeling him: his skin, his breath, the rigid length of him inside her.

It wasn’t that she’d been hoping he’d ravish her right away (okay, maybe she had been, but she knew Quinn, and knew he would never react that way), but all this looking without any touching was getting out of hand. Impatience was pulling tight through her stomach. The prospect of finally feeling fulfilled was driving her crazy.

She needed to give him a little nudge. 

Leaning in, she let her lips graze his ear, down to his jaw and then back. He made a soft, breathy noise, and she knew she almost had him.

Just one more push. 

“How do you want me?” she asked, following it up with a slow, open mouthed kiss to the soft spot under his ear. 

Blood rushed from his head so fast he felt dizzy. 

“I want you to ride me in this,” he managed to say, fingering the stripes on the sleeve. 

It was a fantasy he'd harbored since middle school, but had yet to experience. He'd asked his college girlfriend once, and she had scoffed, telling him it would get too hot, which he thought was a strange argument considering a jersey was designed to do the exact opposite. 

Sarah didn’t acknowledge his request other than to start popping open the buttons of his shirt, one after the other. That set him into motion, tugging at his clothing. He couldn’t get it off fast enough. 

Through a jumble of arms and hands, tangling in their effort to get him naked, they found themselves on the bed. Quinn flat on his back, breath heavy with anticipation, and Sarah astride him, trying to game plan her next move. She had on lingerie he’d never seen before and didn’t want it to go to waste, but he wanted her in the jersey, and she couldn’t take anything off without spoiling the surprise. 

He grew impatient as she debated, shifting his hips up, trying to entice her onto him already. “Sarah,” he whined. 

Finally, she decided to just move it to the side, and sink onto him. The stretch after so long was a pleasant burn. 

His eyes rolled back, and his hips jumped, wanting to fill her more. 

“How are you so wet?” he asked. They hadn’t kissed for that long. Usually, it took a little more to get her this soaked. 

A wicked smile spread over her face, “I may have gotten myself off while I was waiting, thinking about finally seeing you again.”

“Fuck.” 

She was a vision. Riding him after so long? Wearing his jersey? Confessing to touching herself in this bed thinking of and waiting for him? He was the luckiest man on the planet. 

She pitched forward to get the right angle, and moaned, loud and earnest. Good thing they moved him two floors up from the team. 

He tried to brace himself, but the fantasy of it, of her being here and wearing his jersey - the golden C winking at him, reminding him of all the work he'd done to get here - knowing his name was on her back made him groan out loud. His restraint stretched until it was paper thin. 

His hands explored under the jersey only to feel something smooth tied at her hip and lace at her ribcage. 

He coughed, “are you wearing lingerie?” 

“Just for you,” she said, meeting his heated gaze with a coy smile. 

He didn’t think this could get any better. Now, his mind was wild with possibilities. 

“Come for me and I'll show you.”

Holy shit. 

The little control he had snapped and he flooded her with a loud groan of her name.

Sarah's hands traced his arms, entwining their fingers before guiding them to rest on either side of his head as she leaned forward to kiss him. 

His chest pressed into hers, catching the scratchy logo on his jersey as he tried to catch his breath. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Shaking her head, she pushed herself off of him to go to the bathroom. She needed to clean up and readjust before the next part of her plan could move forward.

He lay there and tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. It was almost too fast for him to remember the way he wanted. The bathroom door opened, and he looked over.

“Alright, captain,” she said, leaning on the door frame. She felt incredibly silly, but relished the way his eyes widened at the nickname, “are you ready to see what I have for you?” 

Oh God. 

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure how he could possibly be prepared for what was coming. 

“Do you want to, or should I?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of his jersey, exposing the little heart tattooed on her thigh. 

“You can.” His voice squeaked a little as he said it, and he blushed. 

Being sexy wasn’t really in her forte, but Sarah tried her best. Lifting the jersey over her head, she thought briefly about tossing it in his face. Deciding that was a step too far, she let it fall to the floor. 

Quinn gaped. 

Most of the time, Sarah wore cotton briefs - occasionally she switched them for lace or a thong, but this was something totally different than what he was used to seeing her in.

For one, the matching set was so sheer, he could see her nipples through the swirling pattern of the black lace. Then, there was the fact that it was obviously made to be removed. The bra tied in front and her underwear tied at the hips, each with a silky black ribbon, like she was a gift for him to unwrap. 

His mind ran away with the thought of tugging the bow on her bra undone with his teeth. 

When she did a little twirl so he could see the back, the breath knocked out of his lungs. She looked so damn good, she might just kill him. His heart might just explode. 

“What do you think?” she asked, walking closer. She could already see how much he liked it in his wide eyes and panting mouth, but she wanted to hear him say it. 

“I -” He didn't know it was possible to get hard so soon after coming. 

“Do you like it, Captain?” 

His breathing hitched. He never thought he'd have a captain kink, but hearing the title come out of her mouth while she was wearing that? He might just develop one. 

Adjusting the bows at her hips so they sat more naturally, Sarah looked at him and repeated, “do you like it, Quinn?” 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yes. I love it.” 

She smiled and climbed onto the bed then straddled him. His hands went to her waist of their own volition.

Her hips ground down. 

“You can’t do that,” he said, teeth gritted as he forced the words over a moan. The soft texture of the lace against his cock was incredible. 

“What?” 

“You can’t ride me again. I won’t last and you haven’t come yet.” 

She leaned down so her mouth was inches from his, her breath making him hyper aware of his own mouth and how much he wanted it on her. 

“And what are you going to do about that, Captain Hughes?” 

He topped her so fast that Sarah grunted and let out a little giggle when her back slammed into the mattress. 

“Sorry,” he breathed, only half meaning it as he planted a wet kiss at the base of her throat. He moved down her chest, following the outline of her bra with his mouth. He almost made good on his fantasy of biting it open, but held off. He wanted to watch her fall apart with it on. 

“What were you thinking about when you were getting yourself off?” he asked, kissing over her tattoo. 

“You,” she panted. 

“And what were you imagining me doing?” 

She whined. 

“What was I doing, Sarah?” he asked, lifting his mouth from where he’d just kissed down to the band of her panties. 

“You were eating me out,” she confessed, a blush rising high on her cheeks. 

Sometimes, he wished she would have told him how much she fantasized about and enjoyed oral sex before the first time he’d done it. There were four solid months he could have been pleasing her he would never get back. 

He smirked a little, “is that what you want now?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” he asked, tracing his fingers up and down her thighs. 

“Yes, Quinn.” 

He tutted, “Yes, what?” he asked as his lips went to her inner thigh. 

The bolt of electricity that fractured up her spine tipped her voice into a high, breathy whimper.

When she didn’t answer, he repeated the question again, ghosting his fingers against the lace of her panties. 

Her hips jumped. “Yes, Captain.” 

Oh, it was definitely a kink now. He couldn’t get over the sound of it coming out of her mouth. 

He made a satisfied noise and hooked two fingers under the lace gusset, pulling it away from her experimentally. The ties pulled taught, but didn't seem to want to slide over her hips. He tugged again, a little harder. 

Flinging a hand down, Sarah grasped the band, “you're going to rip them.”

“I'll buy you more,” he said, almost off handedly, still pulling. 

“Quinn, that's not the point. Please don't.”

The pulling stopped, and he pulled back to look into her face. “Okay. I'm sorry.”

Her face melted into a smile, “thank you.” She reached down to ease the ties over her hips. 

“No,” he breathed. 

Her eyes snapped to his, questioning.

Before she could ask what he wanted instead, he was knocking her hand away and licking one of the ribbons at her left hip into his mouth.

He pulled it away from her with his teeth, eyes growing darker when the bow unraveled and the pieces fell apart. 

Taking his time to kiss and lick his way to the other tie, he repeated the action, and groaned when it also untied so easily. 

He pulled on the whole thing and flung the garment away. It sailed somewhere across the room, ties flailing. 

Sarah bought this set because it was cute and sort of reminiscent of her black bikini he liked so much. She didn't realize what a fetish he would have for the bows. 

Settling back between her legs, she whined as he parted her lips and blew on her hot core. Shivers ran up her spine and down to all her fingers and toes.

“What were you thinking about?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When you were touching yourself, what were you thinking about me doing?” 

“You were eating me out,” she repeated, confused. 

His laugh chuffed a burst of hot air against her that had her squirming.

“I mean how. What exactly was I doing? 

“You want me to describe it to you?”

“I want to do it for you,” he confessed, voice gravelly. 

She made a little squeaking noise that told him how much that idea excited her.

“Tell me how you want me to touch you,” he said before he leaned in to press his tongue against her, just to feel her twitch. 

Something inside her broke. Even though she felt depraved at the very thought of telling him this, it was too late to go back. The possibility of feeling it had taken over her body and wouldn’t let it go. 

“You had your fingers on my g-spot,” she breathed. 

“How many?” 

She squirmed again.

“How many, Sarah?” he repeated, circling her entrance, enthralled at the way she flexed.  

“Two.” Her mind made her continue and she squeaked, “then three.” 

His eyes widened and shot to hers. “Will they fit?” 

She nodded. “If you get me off first, they should.” 

His eyes were blown dark and full of mischief when he glanced down then back up to meet hers again. “And how was I using my mouth?” 

She moaned out loud just thinking about it. “You were doing that suck and flick thing with your tongue.” 

He had no idea what she meant.

He'd done it before: the night they'd been eliminated from the finals last season, but she couldn't very well bring that up. I want you to eat me out the way you did when you'd had one of the worst nights of your career? There was no way. Maybe if she demonstrated...

“I can show you,” she said, grasping one of his shoulders, “I need a part of you.” 

He toyed for a moment with the idea of presenting her his dick, but if he did that, he wouldn’t want to stop feeling her mouth, which defeated the whole purpose of this. Instead, he crawled over her and tipped his head to expose the column of his throat. 

His eyes rolled back as her open mouth connected with his hypersensitive skin. She ran her tongue over his pulse, following it with her bottom lip, before ending with suction, and a flick with the tip of her tongue.

Moaning, he ground against her hot center when she did it again and again.

He wrenched himself away before he could follow through with his desires to sheath himself and take her any way she would let him. 

Settling back onto his stomach, he shook his head to get back into the right frame of mind before leveling his gaze with her perfect, pretty pearl again. 

He tried to follow the movement of her mouth, and her hips jumped at the feeling. 

“Quinn,” she whined as he eased two fingers into her, curling them against that sensitive spot. “Oh my god.”

He continued on. She could feel the movement of his chin, up and down and in and out with each pass of his tongue. 

“Harder,” she begged. 

He dug his fingers into her soft spot even more. 

Throwing her head back, she moaned loudly. “Oh my god, Quinn. Just like that. Don't stop. Please don't stop.” 

Like he would ever stop when she was at his mercy like this. Grinding into the mattress, he continued on, moaning at the way her body undulated as she moved with him. 

She let out a gasping noise as if someone had forced all the air out of her in one swift hit. Her core began to pulse around his fingers, trying to suck them deeper inside her. 

Tipping her chin back, Sarah sighed as wave after soft wave of pleasure crashed over her.

When she stopped contracting so tightly, he waited until one of her aftershocks passed to work another finger into her. 

Her voice echoed around the hotel room as she cried out. 

He said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had the wherewithal to separate them from the team. There was no way he wanted anyone, let alone someone who knew them, to overhear this.

“So good, Quinn,” she croaked out. “Feels so full.”

He continued kissing her bundle of nerves the way she wanted, pausing every few passes to suck a little more intensely. 

A surge of pleasure coiled low in her belly, winding tighter and tighter until every breath ended in a moan. She felt so full and stretched open. So… Alive. All other thoughts fell out of her brain except Quinn and his silver tongue and wicked fingers. 

Feeling as if she might just shatter to pieces if she didn't get some relief, Sarah moaned and panted and begged, “please, Quinn. Please.”

She had no idea what she was asking for, but the waves of pleasure kept coming and coming until it was winding up her spine and pulling so tight, she thought it might just wrench every vertebrae apart and fill each gap with the soft promise of her impending release. 

He could feel her high building and kept urging her up the slope. Anxious for her summit, he sealed his mouth to her, milking her clit like her orgasm might just satiate his hunger.

“Quinn,” she gasped, spine arching as her hands abandoned her nipples and rummaged for some way to ground herself. One ended up in his hair, and the other fisted into the bedspread. “Oh my god. I think I'm gonna…” 

Her voice dissolved into a noise he'd never heard her make as her muscles locked around his fingers. He forced them to continue, working through her orgasm. 

Quite suddenly, as pleasure whirled through her veins, a feeling, intense and ferocious, swelled within her.  

As a tsunami of white-hot ecstasy crashed over her, he unlocked a space deep within her she didn't even know existed.

“Oh, fuck! Quinn!”

Something molten erupted in her belly like a long dormant volcano. 

Vaguely, she heard him groan as if every fantasy he'd ever had was being fulfilled. 

Though he knew women could, he’d never seen it in person, never even imagined what feeling her release gush over his hand would be like.

Sometime last season, Beauvillier had gone on and on about making his girl squirt, and Quinn remembered wishing he would keep it to himself. He didn't want to think about that every time he saw them together. 

Now, having experienced it first hand, he understood why Tito wanted to tell everyone he knew. 

Pleasure continued to ripple through her. No high had ever gone on this long. It eased away the tension that had knotted up in her body, until all at once, sensitivity and overstimulation set in.

“Too much, too much,” she croaked, trying to squirm away from his touch. 

He’d been so mesmerized watching her face, he hadn't realized his fingers were still moving. They uncoiled and stilled, and she melted into the mattress as a sigh melted from her lips. 

Her chest rose and fell steeply, the tie of her bra pulling taught with every heavy inhale, making the cups ride up the swell of her breasts. God, she was so beautiful.

It took quite a while for her to come down. He gently eased his fingers out only after she stopped pulsing. 

A whine escaped her throat at the sudden emptiness. 

Slowly coming back to herself, Sarah registered something wet underneath her. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Did I -” her eyes darted to his as her face flushed with the reality of what had just happened, “did you make me squirt?” 

“Yeah," he said, crawling over her again, "and it was the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life.”

The embarrassment she felt at making such a mess ebbed away with his confession. 

“No one's ever done that to me before. I haven't even been able to.” 

A look of immense pride took over his face. “Did you like it? I mean, it seemed like you liked it.” 

She nodded, “I've never felt anything like it.” 

He brought his lips to hers, and the taste of herself on his tongue made her passion throb to life again. 

“Well, Captain,” she said a little while later, smiling at the way his jaw slackened and eyelids grew heavy at the title. “I think I've got one more round in me. What do you want?” 

He twitched against her. 

“I just want you,” he brought his mouth to her neck. “Want to feel you come on my cock,” he murmured into her skin.

“I think we can arrange for that,” she said, fingers winding into his hair. 

Bracing up on his elbows, his gaze fell to her bra. 

Instead of using his mouth, he twirled one of the ribbons around his finger and pulled gently to ease the bow undone. It fell apart, revealing a knot in the middle. 

“It kept coming undone,” Sarah confessed, hands coming up to help him with the knot, which had pulled incredibly tight amidst her heavy breathing and writhing around.

“I think it's stuck. I can't get it out while it's on me, anyway,” she said, raising her arms above her head. “Here.”

At least he'd been able to remove her bottoms the way he wanted. He eased the lace over the swell of her breasts and helped her lift it off. 

He made love to her the way he did whenever he got home from a long time away - earnestly and full of wonder, compliments falling from his lips like raindrops, as if they didn’t cost a thing.  

“Fuck, Sarah, you feel so good.” 

“I can't believe you're mine.” 

“You're so pretty. I can't stop looking at you.”

“God, I'm so lucky.”  

They didn’t cost him anything, but they made Sarah feel like she was worth a million dollars.

“I love that sound,” he murmured when she gasped in pleasure and followed it with a low moan.  

As he drove into her again and again, he shuttered and moaned, feeling like she was going to shatter him into a million little pieces

He'd been hot all night. A sheen of sweat had spread over his skin as soon as she'd climbed on top of him in his jersey. The prospect of a fantasy being fulfilled sending his body into a frenzy. Working her up to that intense high hadn't been a walk in the park either. He'd been on edge and so focused. Now, he felt like his body was on fire.

She felt and sounded and looked so good. He couldn't think of anything but her.

When she tipped her face to the side with a loud moan, he attacked her jaw and neck with his lips, desperate to taste her again. 

She was here. She was in Boston. She was here, in his hotel, in Boston. He just made her squirt, and he didn't have to be down to the bus until 10 the next morning. He must have been doing something right.  

When he felt her fall apart around his cock, he breathed through it and hung on for dear life, twitching with the bliss of it.

Coming down from her high, Sarah was mesmerized by him. The defined set of his jaw, the sweaty sheen to his skin, how his curls fell over his forehead.

“You're so handsome, Quinn.”

She knew he was holding on, hoping to urge another high from her, but she didn't have one to give him. It was time to send him over the edge. 

Propping up on her elbows, she traced her mouth along his jaw up to his ear. He let out a panicked little whimper. 

“Want to feel you,” she whispered. "Want you to fill me up."

His hips stuttered.

“Come for me, Captain.” 

White spots blipped in his vision and he had no choice but to obey. 

Her name fell from his mouth like a prayer as she pulled him over the edge. 

When they walked back in the room after showering, Sarah realized just how much of a mess she'd made of the bed. There was no way they could sleep in it as it was. 

“Oh no.” 

“What?” Quinn asked, lowering the towel he was running over his hair. 

“We need new sheets and housekeeping is going to know exactly what we've been doing.”

“No they won't.”

She pointed to the bed, “you want to tell me they're not going to know we weren't just having sex?”

He laughed, “fine. So they might know. What does it matter? It's not like we know any of them.”

“It's so embarrassing.”

“What is? That your boyfriend made you come so hard you squirted?”

“No,” she was blushing though, “I mean…no. That was amazing.”

“So what's the worry?”

“I just…I don't want anyone else to see.”

He laughed, “that's fair. I can just ask them to bring some extra bedding. No one has to come into the room.”

She nodded, “okay.”

He called the desk, and despite his insistence he would prefer to make the bed himself, the hotel sent someone up anyway. 

Sarah folded the comforter before hiding in the bathroom. 

Quinn noticed the housekeeper's eyes lingering in one corner of the room. When he glanced over, he saw Sarah’s panties from where he'd thrown them, ties scrawled over the carpet like calligraphy strokes. So much for being discreet.

After giving the woman a tip, he tucked them in Sarah's suitcase before letting her know the coast was clear. 

As they settled into bed, Quinn relished holding her close.

Before sleep could overtake her completely, Sarah needed to set something straight. 

“I hope you know that Captain thing is only for special occasions. There is no way I'm calling you Captain all the time.”

“That’s fine,” he said, laughing. “Makes it more special when you do.”

“To be fair, I didn’t expect you to like it so much,” she said. 

She’d called him Captain as a kind of joke, and half expected him to tell her not to do it again. Quinn didn’t even like pet names. She vividly remembered the way he grimaced the first (and last) time she called him baby.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair. “I don’t know that I would have either. I’ve never had that happen before. You said it, and it went straight to my dick. I think your lingerie had something to do with that.” 

She propped herself up on an elbow. “You liked the lingerie?” she teased, full well knowing the answer. 

He scoffed, “I'm going to dream about it for the rest of this damn road trip.” 

Giggling, she leaned down to kiss him. “Maybe I'll have it on when you get home,” she said against his mouth. 

He groaned, “don't joke about that.” 

“Why not? Wouldn't it give you something to look forward to?” 

“I always look forward to coming home to you.” 

She looked down at him for a long time, memorizing the love in his eyes. “I love you, Captain Hughes,” she said before lowering her mouth to his to tell him that way too. 

“Tease,” he chided when she pulled away. 

She smiled and settled back, laying her head on his chest. 

“I love you, too,” he whispered into her hair before they fell asleep. “I can't believe you're here.”

The next morning, Sarah put his jersey back on and put his morning hard on to good use - slower this time so he could remember it properly.

After room service breakfast and a very steamy shower, he walked her down to the lobby to catch her car to the airport. 

“I love you,” he said, kissing her forehead.

“I love you too.”

“Thank you for coming.” 

“You're welcome. You should really be thanking Brady, though.”

He watched her pull away before heading back to his room to pack his bag. 

On the elevator ride, Quinn did just as Sarah suggested. 

Love you man. I owe you big time. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER SIXTY THREE → THE FREAKSHOW

summary: steve harrington x oc || Ao3

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

Tagged. @sattlersquarry, @leptitlu, @two-sides-samecoin

The subdivision was quiet that afternoon. A strange calm had settled over Hawkins that spring, but Steve had learned not to let his guard down anymore. Nothing was ever calm in Hawkins, and his nerves were already pricked with Sunshine a couple of hours away in Indy with her sister. He knew she could handle herself if she ran into any trouble, and he tried to convince himself that she wouldn’t run into any trouble, but there had been a knot of worry tied inside his gut since he was little. He worried about everything, all of the time. The revelation of other dimensions, monsters, and bad men only made that knot worse. But he did his best to distract himself. 

“Turn your elbow like this,” Steve said, moving his arm to mimic the motion of the kid beside him. “It’ll help your aim.” 

Lucas fixed his arm and shot the basketball, putting it right through the old hoop Steve had dug out of his garage. Since Lucas told Steve he was thinking of trying out for the basketball team last fall, Steve had been helping him practice. Between all of his high school highs and lows, basketball had been the only consistent thing for Steve, and something he still enjoyed. It served as a normal distraction for both of them, but especially Lucas. The kid was really good too and made varsity his freshman year. And while he most rode the bench, Lucas had too much potential to stay there forever.

The ball bounced against the cement and Lucas raced to grab it, dribbling it back down the driveway to where Steve stood. He was quieter than normal; Steve was the only person, besides Lucas’s dad, who the kid could have an actual conversation about basketball with. His friends weren’t interested in it, and Steve wasn’t sure of the last time Lucas had a full conversation with Max, to everyone’s dismay. 

“You all right, Sinclair?” Steve asked. 

He shrugged, eyes glued to the ball. “This game’s a big deal, right?” 

“A really big deal,” Steve replied. There were only a handful of times Hawkins High made it to the championship of anything. “But, you know, all you can do is play your best.” 

Lucas snorted a sarcastic laugh. “You sound like Sunshine.” 

Steve smiled. “Occupational hazard.” She had rubbed off on him, even more so since they were dating. Her sunny disposition and pep talks, along with her adoration of the simple things in life. He saw the world differently with her, and not just the bad stuff that crawled out of portals or gates. The world was a scary place, but it also held a lot of good stuff, you just had to look through the weeds and interdimensional vines to see it. 

“I know the pressure can be tough, but you’ll be fine.” 

Lucas held the ball in his hands, slumping his shoulders slightly. “It’s not just that. This game is important to me, but Mike and Dustin want me to skip it for the D&D campaign. I guess Eddie refuses to reschedule.” 

Steve rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know the guy, their paths rarely crossed in high school. Either Steve was running with Tommy and Carol, too busy to notice nerds like Eddie Munson, or he was sulking in his fall from grace and reeling from monsters and bullies. He’d heard of Eddie, in a small town it was impossible to not know everyone, whether you liked to or not. Rumor had it he was some super-senior drug dealer, and that sounded like the last person Steve wanted hanging around the party. But Dustin refuted the rumors and made Eddie out to be some kind of king of the nerds. 

It was embarrassing, and Steve hadn’t even admitted it aloud to Sunshine yet, but he was a little jealous of the Hellfire Club caption. Sure, on paper, he was probably the cooler person to hang out with in the eyes of Dustin because he loved the same game they did, but Steve had thought that he and Dustin were the ultimate duo. He was like Steve’s little brother, annoying and sometimes a pain in the ass, but someone Steve couldn’t see not in his life. But it seemed like Dustin was no longer interested in hanging out with him. 

It made Steve feel even more useless to the gaggle of teens, like he really didn’t have a place in the grand scheme of their monster-hunting team anymore.

“Your friends can’t miss one campaign to come watch you play?” Steve asked, shoving aside his own weird issues with some dude he’d never even talked to before. 

“Guess not.” 

“Well, what about Max?” 

Lucas sighed again, hugging the ball to his chest like he was trying to get some kind of comfort from it. “She still won’t talk to me. She hardly talks to Mike or Dustin. Every time I try, she shrugs me off with some excuse. I don’t know what else to do.” 

Max didn’t like change, which Steve figured out very quickly after getting to know Max. Moving across the country was one thing, but what she’d experienced since being in Hawkins was another beast. No one could blame her, they all just wished she’d let them help her. Sunshine seemed to be the only one who could get through to her somewhat. She shut the party out, caved in on herself. Lucas was the most distraught over it. 

“There’s not much you can do,” Steve said. “You can try to be there for her, but you can’t magically make everything better.” 

“It just sucks. We know people with superpowers and know there’s another dimension, but we can’t, like, fix any of the shit we’ve been through. We just have to take it and pretend like…like it’s fine.” 

It was beyond frustrating, but that had become their lives. Steve’s mind glazed over it, trying hard not to think too much about it until the world threatened to end again. 

“Look on the bright side, you’ve only got four more years here. Then you can play basketball at some D1 school, pretend like Hawkins was some fucked up nightmare or something.” 

Lucas laughed but it was mixed with a little scoff. “Yeah, if I live that long,” he muttered, and Steve’s gut turned uncomfortably. He didn’t like that, jokes like that were too real. “And if they ever let me off the bench.” He tossed the ball at Steve, who caught it despite being slightly thrown off guard. 

Dribbling the ball, back up the driveway, Steve shoved away the pit in his stomach and focused on the task at hand. “Hey, with my help, you might even get to play in the championship.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sarcastically. “I might even win the whole thing.” 

→←

“This feels…unethical,” Will Byers said, chewing nervously on his nails as he stood lookout for Leia. 

She stopped, turning her head to look at him. “Really? I could name ten unethical things that have been done to the two of us alone. This, my dearest brother, is good ole’ fashioned revenge.” She balanced a cup of red paint on the locker shelf with a fishing wire around it. Carefully, she threaded the wire through the slit in the door and fashioned it so that as soon as the locker was opened, the cup would be pulled forward and spill on the unlucky but well-deserving bully. 

“I doubt she’s even read Carrie. Angela and her friends aren’t going to get the prank.” 

Leia sighed, cautiously looking up and down the empty hall. “They don't need to ‘get it.’ All that matters is that Angela is covered in red paint. She deserves a lot worse for laughing at El’s project, but Joyce said we’re grounded if we commit a crime.” 

“Technically, I think she said we’re grounded if we’re caught committing a crime.” 

Leia paused before she shrugged. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll think of something illegal. Until then…” She dusted her hands off on her paint-stained overalls from an art project gone slightly rouge and clapped Will on the shoulder. He had grown even taller since their move, Joyce said it was probably the sun that was making all of them grow like weeds, but Will still curled into himself and tried to make himself smaller among their new Cali-folk. 

While Leia probably should have been more wary about a new school, but she had a different view of it. She had never attended any kind of school, so she had no expectations. Bullies didn’t bother her because she was good at brushing them off. All of the teasing from Kali’s friends made her skin thick and she had a little voice in her head reminding her she had superpowers and they didn’t; it made her feel better. 

Will flew under the radar too. He was quiet and good at blending in, making himself a small target. Luke followed in his footsteps, spending most of his time tucked away in the library which most kids avoided besides the nerdy and quiet ones. It was El that caught all of the flack. 

By some unlucky chance, she had caught the eye of a blonde-headed all-American mean girl the second she stepped through the school doors. El was kind, she wanted to be friends with everyone but had a hard time picking up on social cues. And the second Angela got a whiff of El’s slight unusualness, she latched on like a hungry shark. How some freshman had a cult following of brightly dressed, rich friends who would do anything she said, Leia had no idea. It was like they stumbled into the set of a movie riddled with cliches that Leia thought weren’t actually supposed to happen in real life. Yet, there Angela was, laughing at El while she tried to present a project she had worked really hard on. Apparently cruelty earned you cheap laughs; Leia wanted to fry Angle to a crisp. 

She had to settle for ruining the bully’s outfit. 

The bell rang, singling the end of class. Leia and Will stood innocently at the water fountain and subtly watched as Angela and her clique waded down the hall, her blonde ponytail swinging with each step. She arrived at her locker, entered her combo, and yanked it open. Out poured the red paint, splashing down the front of Angela’s shirt. She let out a shrill scream that echoed through the hall, causing people to stop. 

Angela wiped her hands against the paint, smearing it into the fabric and getting a layer coating her palms and fingers. It looked like blood, but the smell of paint quickly filled the air, making the hall smell just like the art room. 

Leia hid her laughter under her hand while Will pressed his lips in a thin line, suppressing a smile. They watched as Angela’s friends surrounded her like a flock of birds. She swatted them away and turned out from her locker with her face nearly as red as the paint. Leia couldn’t hear what she said, but without even cleaning herself up, she took off toward the doors that led to the courtyard of the school. 

“Okay,” Will said with a laugh. “You were right; that was great!” 

Leia beamed. “I’ve got more where that came from.” 

He shook his head, a lightness in his tone that only came out from time to time now. “Come on, let’s go find Luke and El. They’ll want to hear about this.” 

Unfortunately, their two siblings did hear about the red paint stunt because El was the first person Angela assumed had pranked her. By the time Leia and Will entered the courtyard, El was sprawled out against the ground with her project in pieces along the sidewalk. Angela was standing the closest to El, her arms crossed and laughing along with the rest of her friends who stood on the sidelines. 

El’s face was grief-stricken, and that alone was enough to send Leia running towards her sister. She jammed her shoulder into Angela’s sending the blonde stumbling. El stood and outstretched her hand in a similar way she once did when she used to abilities; it was a reflex, one that would probably take El a long time to shake since she had lost her abilities last summer. Before El did anything to give Angela further ammunition, Leia grabbed El’s arm gently and pushed it back down at her side. 

Angela seemed satisfied with sending El and her project to the ground and turned to leave, her front half still coated in paint. A tear fell from El’s eye as she glanced at her broken project. With a gentle sigh, Leia tried to channel her anger into something more helpful for El; it was what Sunshine told her to do when she felt her anger gain control of her, fueling her abilities and asking for something bad to happen. Leia grabbed a hold of El’s shoulder, making her sister look at her. 

“Are you okay?” 

El frowned, wiping away her tears. She nodded sadly, slumping her shoulders. 

“It’s my fault,” Leia said. “I pranked Angela, but I should have known she’d think it was you. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” El tried to smile, but it was weak and turned back into a frown when her eyes landed on the pieces of her project. 

Will and Luke started picking them up, placing them back in the slightly crushed shoe box. “We can fix it,” Will said with confidence in his voice. He pinched a squirrel figurine in between his fingers before holding it out to El. She grabbed the squirrel and closed her fist around it. “We’ll all help, and it’ll be good as new, all right?” 

“All right,” El said quietly. She joined the boys on the ground while Leia scooped out the surrounding area in case any pieces went flying off of the sidewalk and onto the grass. She spotted a couple of popsicle sticks and gathered them before she turned around. Directly behind her was one of her classmates, who sat beside Leia in art class. 

Startled, Leia gasped, and the girl’s eyes widened before a sheepish smile fell across her lips. “Sorry!” Abby said. “Didn’t mean to scare you, I just found this.” She held out a small hat that El had made to resemble Hopper’s police hat. 

“Thanks,” Leia said, taking the hat with a small ache in her chest. Not a day went by where she didn’t think about Hopper; she missed him, but Joyce was doing everything she could to make the three of them feel a part of their family. It wasn’t the same though. They weren’t in that little cabin in the woods, eating Eggos and watching black-and-white detective movies. 

Abby shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth in her busted sneakers. She didn’t dress like most of the kids at school; her shoes were dirty and her clothes were mended with patches of different colors. Her hair was pin straight and black, with thick bangs cut barely above her eyes. She was odd but in a good way. Abby was always bouncing on her heels or tapping her hands against the tabletop. She spoke quickly but with so much enthusiasm it made Leia feel happy too. 

“Angela’s a jerk,” Abby said. “I’m glad someone finally did something, even if it didn’t end super well.” 

Leia pocketed the hat with a sigh. “I should have used real pig’s blood.” 

“You stole the pain from the art room?” 

“Guilty.”

Abby laughed. “That’s amazing! Oh, I would have killed to see her face!” Leia laughed too; it was impossible for her not to. Abby’s laugh was infectious, which often got them into trouble in art when they couldn’t spot giggling in the middle of class.

“Leia, are you ready?” Will called from several feet away. They had cleaned up El’s project and Luke was carrying it in his arms, probably in case Angela had any other ideas. Luke was a little taller and broader, harder to knock down. 

Abby gave Leia a smile before she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned on her feet and headed across the yard, leaving Leia with a friendly giddiness bubbling inside her chest. 

Leia rushed over to her siblings, handing the hat off to El. Together, they all walked back into school, El sandwiched between them. The Hopper-Byers weren’t a typical group of siblings, but it was as if they were destined to be family all along. Maybe they radiated the idea that they didn’t belong, slotted pieces of different puzzles that somehow fit, but there was no denying that they belonged together as a family. 

[blanketorghost]

A taste of Something New (Pt. 3)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

The new taste is heartbreak, actually <3

This third one was supposed to have the resolution included but I realized this chapter was already 3000 words, also the last part is written in both Azul and Yuu's perspectives so perchance it is best that its separate from this one. Anyways stay tuned for the fourth maybe fifth parts. I may take less than a whole six months this time to write it!

Summary: Against his better judgement, Yuu wants to bring Azul a meaningful souvenir from the scalding sands.

Pairing: Yuu Fujisaki x Azul Ashengrotto (one-sided?), Azul Ashengrotto x Jamil Viper (implied, one-sided)

Timeline: During/Post Al'ab Narya and Ch. 4. Pre Ch. 5

Notes: Azul may be OOC? Have never been good at writing him convincingly imho

—

With a pep in his step and a nervous smile, Yuu exited the light music club. He'd mulled over it in class, planned his speech during lunch, and agonized over the details after school. He didn't even play anything during club time, even after an eternity of Kalim whining and goading him to join in with the rest of the members.

The light music club was just right across the board game club, and even if he would've spent time in there anyway, today all he could do was anxiously look at the slightly ajar door a few steps away. Would it be too weird if he just came in and gave him the book?

Yeah... definitely.

Honestly, the best option here was to just hand it to him after club session's over. He just needed to casually greet him and give him the book as the guise of a souvenir. He could explain the details later.

But what if he came out with a friend? He didn't really trust on his guts enough to think he could give him the gift then, he'd have to brainstorm new possibilities for encounter.

He clutches the piece tightly against his chest, wrapping paper crinkling to his touch.

"Wat'cha looking at, Yuu-chan?"

Cater's voice takes him out of his trance, rudely interrupting that vicious cycle of what-ifs and but-thens he'd already crafted in his brain about optimal gift-giving times.

"Oh, uhm..." He hides the package under his blazer and looks at the ground, hoping to find a good excuse inside the cracks on the floor. "I needed to ask for Azul's help for something about the gourmet club. I was hoping if I gave him something in return, he might say yes more easily."

"Really? Well, good luck with that." Cater raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. "I've heard around the grapevine that Azul-kun's been super stingy about creating his famous contracts now. It's a shame. I was totes hoping we could do some sponsorship deal where I advertised the lounge on Magicam for free meals..."

"Huh. I guess he really turned a whole new leaf with that whole..." Yuu trails off as he smiles in spite of himself. He wasn't very sure that that was the reason Azul had stopped, but he could at least pretend maybe he had caused a positive change. A bit of wishful thinking never hurts anybody. "Never mind, I mean- Thanks for the warning. But I think he would be really interested in what I have to offer." He waves Cater off.

"Well, I mean, if you wanna you can use the points I've been saving up at the lounge to get a meeting, I honestly get them mostly for the discounts on seasonal meals, but I don't min-"

"Oh, I already have enough points for a meeting." Yuu takes his loyalty card from his pocket. Usually, he used the points to get some tutoring sessions for Grim or get him a study guide. It was convenient, and Azul's teaching method was the only one that actually worked. Yet, he had decidedly started to save up for a private meeting right before the City of Silk trip. He knew Azul was busy and stingy with his time, but if all other attempts to talk to him failed, he had to at least hear him out If he used his points, right?

"Aw, you're all prepared and everything! Gotta give it to Yuu to always be one step ahead." Cater gives him a smile, then checks his phone and sighs, cheerful demeanor diminishing slightly. "Welp. I gotta go to my dorm now. It's my turn to feed the flamingos. Good luck with your Gourmet Club business stuff!"

"Yeah, thanks." Yuu waves at all the members of the light music club, and, one by one, the classroom was left empty.

It feels like an eternity before the classroom adjacent to him opens its door, and he waits and waits for the students inside to tidy up and put back everything in their shelves until finally, the members of the Board Game Club also say their goodbyes for the day.

He could hear someone ranting inside the classroom to seeminly no one in particular, some students groaning or shaking their heads as they left the room. Some time later, Azul's voice rises through the chatter to retort to that one ranting, most likely. He scans the crowd until he finally sees a white tuft of hair exit from the room, black gloved hand raising to say his goodbyes to the people that were still inside.

He was always so outwardly nice and polite, he really just had a way of charming people, really. If only he used that power of his for better purposes... still, he couldn't deny the fact that that scheming was also attractive. Very much so, in fact. There was a reason why Yuu ended up falling for him so fast, after all.

“Yuu-san?” Yuu doesn't even notice when Azul turns to see him, his eyebrows arching in surprise.

“Ah- Uh– Azul-” He can barely string out a coherent sentence as he scrambles to hide the package behind his back— wait, what was he doing?! “I just… wanted to say hi.”

“Well then, hi.” Azul flashes him a smile. “It's nice to see you. Perhaps we could talk more at length later, though. I have to get the lounge ready for openin-—”

“Wait!”

Oh dear, that came out louder than what he intended.

Yuu clears his throat, taking a second to look down at the floor to compose himself. “Can't you spare a couple of minutes? It won't take long.”

“I'm sorry, Yuu-san. But I need to help Floyd prep the ingredients for today's menu and make sure Jade doesn't tamper with any of them, I'm sure you understand.”

“I see…”

“If you want, though, I could maybe clear up some time later?”

“I was actually hoping we could meet today… If you have time.” It's like Yuu's body was working on its own, completely overriding the script he'd had so carefully prepared. He was supposed to just give him the gift. “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

Oh dear sevens, now he was making things sound way more serious than needed. Just give him the gift already!

“Ah.” … Did Azul just blush right now? Maybe he was seeing things. “I think I am free, but I'll ask Jade to schedule you.” He purses his lips. “I'll… Send you a text with the details later this evening.”

“Alright.” Yuu holds his breath as he hands Azul the card, who then rips it in half to signify it's been redeemed. “I’ll… Be waiting, then.”

With that, Azul flashes him another small smile and nods.”I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah… see you later.” 

Azul gives Yuu a small wave as he walks away, looking back just once to examine him before turning his heel towards the hallway at the left. And when Azul is out of view, he feels his nerves give out just a little bit…

just a little.

...

What... was he thinking?!

In his panic, he had used up what was supposed to be his hail mary. Sure, Azul was a busy guy and maybe he wouldn't be able to talk to him in a couple of days, but the recipe book could wait!

Giving the book to him after club activities was just a first option, he could've come up with others later. Save his points too!

Ugh, he really needed to learn not to blank when being alone with Azul.

~ 

It’s only 5:00 PM when Yuu receives that fabled message from Azul. 6:00 to 7:00 PM.

Huh, he thought meetings were only supposed to last 15 minutes. Perhaps Azul was feeling generous today. He wouldn’t be needing all that time, though.

Still, Yuu felt one hour to prepare was nearly not enough. Now that his initial courage waned after his first failed attempt, all he could feel was a growing pit in his stomach as he got ready. He didn’t want to keep Azul waiting, though. And before he knew it, he was already at the door of Mostro Lounge. Five minutes early, too.

“Good evening, Yuu. Here for your meeting?” Jade bows as he approaches, and Yuu reflexively bows to him as well. “I hope your conversation is productive.”

“Ah… yeah. Is Azul still in a meeting? I can wait if need be.”

“Oh, not really. Azul only accepted your request for today. You’re the only client he’ll be seeing.” Jade gives him a wide, closed-eyed smile. If his aim was to soothe him, it had the exact opposite effect on Yuu, getting a small jolt of adrenaline course through his body when he bares witness to that creepy grin of his. “In fact, you can go in now, if you’d like.”

“... Right.” Yuu slowly nods and starts walking towards the door, allowing Jade to open it for him. It’s not like the VIP lounge was an unfamiliar sight. In fact, he often found himself hanging out with Azul there, doing homework or chatting the afternoon away while Azul filled out some paperwork. It was a pleasant, quiet environment. Something Yuu severely lacked in his daily life.

As soon as the door opens, Azul looks up from his desk and smiles, lowering his right hand and placing his pen down. “Yuu-san. You’re early.” He states, then uses his left hand to gesture at the chair in front of him. “Take a seat. Do you mind if I continue working while we talk?”

“Hi…” Yuu gives his crush a sheepish smile as he walks over, Jade closing the door behind him. As he sits down, he can now feel a paradoxical heat irradiate from his chest. Wasn’t he just feeling chills before? “And no, of course not. Please continue.”

“Thank you. How was your weekend? Jade mentioned that you and some other students went to a festival.”

“Oh, yeah. Kalim-kun invited us to the firelit festival at his hometown. The Silk City at the Scalding Sands.” Yuu explains, trying to get more comfortable in the leather-bound chair. It usually felt so plush, but now he couldn’t seem to find a good, comfortable position. “Viper showed us around town.”

"So I trust you had a pleasant trip, then?" Azul lifts his head up from his papers and flashes another friendly smile.

It took Yuu weeks of careful observation and millions of failed attempts to discern a genuine smile from Azul Ashengrotto. But once he got that first laugh, that first smirk or chortle, he committed it to memory. It wasn't too different from his all-business one— he still crinkled his eyes and kept his mouth shut. But there was a way in which his lips curled outwards too much, and his brows furrowed ever so slightly when he would pretend.

He was glad Azul would naturally smile more around him.

"It was very fruitful," Yuu leaves the package on his lap, and leans forward. He rests his chin on the back of his palm as he glances at Azul's writing. "Can I ask what you're working on today?"

"You can, and I'm just taking some notes after receiving the most recent customer reviews." Azul keeps smiling as he resumes scribbling at the margins of what Yuu can now see are printed out screenshots of some website. "What brings you here today? If you're looking for a position, permanent or temporary, I unfortunately have no spots open right now."

"Pity." Yuu hums as he eyes some of the comments. The amount of hate had certainly decreased in the months after his overblots. "I could help with accounting if you'd like. I used to do that sometimes."

"I've got that covered. I actually quite enjoy doing the math myself." Azul's smile turns into a small smirk. Cute know-it-all pout included. "I really do mean it when I say I have no spots today. It's a shame, though. I do enjoy you being around the lounge."

Right there, Yuu's heart does a flip.

"Thank you. But actually, that's not the only reason I'm coming here today." He would've liked to. If anything, most of Yuu's time was spent thinking up excuses to come to the lounge more often and not become broke in the process, but today was more of a do-shit-and-dip kind of deal. "And I'll preface, I've used my loyalty points for this meeting. So you have to hear me out."

Azul's eyes widen slightly in surprise, and he looks up once again, placing his fishbone pen on its holder. "Ah, right. You did tell me you had something important to tell me.” He purses his lips, and a hint of pink appears on his cheeks once more. “I'm listening."

Yuu has to consciously stop himself from taking a deep breath and betraying his nervousness. Instead, he straightens up and moves his hands to hold the book. "Well, I've been told that you've been looking for ways to freshen up the menu for this coming month, and..."

"If Grim has somehow convinced you to try and pitch me a tuna-themed menu, tell him I'm still not interested." Azul’s expression tenses as he  speaks in a serious tone, but Yuu can't help but snort at the answer.

"No, no. It's not that." Yuu covers his mouth with a hand as he regains his composure. "Has he actually tried to do that? Or— wait, I'm getting off-topic. But it's not Grim nor tuna related, promise."

“He may have once or twice.” He says nonchalantly as he places the papers aside, and, upon hearing Yuu's response, Azul's placid smile returns, and his posture relaxes a bit, crossing his arms. "I'm all ears, then.”

"Well, during my trip to Silk City, I had the opportunity to sample some of the popular dishes," Yuu starts. He'd created this pitch before he even got to writing the recipes down themselves. He knew that, with Azul, he needed to make his offer to actually look alluring— appetizing, even, if he were to even entertain the possibility of a novice cook gifting recipes to him. "And I've found some interesting recipes you might like." Azul opens his mouth to speak, but Yuu quickly starts again. "And before you tell me that I am in no position to pitch you any possible dishes, or that you've already stocked up on Scalding Sands recipe books, I'd like you to take a look at what I've brought first."

He slowly takes the wrapped book from his lap and hands it to Azul with both his hands. It takes Yuu all his self-control to keep his hands from shaking as Azul, now perplexed, and perhaps curious, takes the package and examines it. 

Their hands touch.

Please, for everything that's sacred, please don't let him blush.

Azul stares at it blankly for a few seconds before he takes off the tape that holds the bottom fold of the package together and slides the notebook from its wraps. And as soon as he does, the aroma of various spices strike both their nostrils. Cumin, Saffron, Paprika— all generously donated by the Asim's cooks.

It also strikes Yuu for the first time just how humble the notebook looks compared to the luxurious office. It looked out of place, foreign, and Yuu couldn't help but purse his lips in slight embarrassment. "I... Um..." God, this wasn't the time to start stammering!

"I... Interviewed the staff from Kalim's kitchens... and gathered as many recipes I could find." As Yuu steadies his voice, Azul starts turning the pages. Expression completely unreadable. "Most of these, they told me, were passed down through generations of trial and error, and I- well, I also documented each dish as best as I could."

"The Asims were kind enough to also allow me to sample their spices. Each is paired with a dish, but I made sure to gather enough for you to experiment if you wish to." Yuu's eyes leave Azul's face and look down at the pages, goodness knows he needed to take a break from trying to figure him out if he didn't want to just faint right then and there, and he was already feeling that annoying lump in his throat that threatened another mistake in his speech. "I know it'd be futile to just buy you a recipe book, since you'd probably have many, so I tried my best to gather as many recipes as possible from a variety of sources.... I, um..."

“I can't accept this. I'm sorry."

Yuu's eyes widen as he gains that same blank expression. His words hit him like a truck, and nothing could've softened that punch to his got nor the sense daze he was struck by. "... Huh?"

“I appreciate the effort you put into this, but… if you were strapped for money, you didn't need to get me anything.” A sharp, stinging pang pierces right through his chest, and Yuu feels mouth go dry. His body is somehow tense yet limp, and he just now notices how cold the VIP room is. "Jade probably mustn't have told you. But it's a personal policy of mine not to accept any gifts." Azul's brows furrow, whether it were with pity or sternness Yuu couldn't care to figure out. "Leaves too many loose ends for me to follow, you see."

"... I..." Yuu's left speechless as Azul puts the wrapping paper over the book and nudges it towards him, sliding it over the dark wood desk. "... I don't want anything for it, really." Yuu's voice is drained of any confidence as he meekly whispers, still in shock. "You can even make me sign a contract if you want."

"And as kind as your offer is, I can't make any exceptions." Azul shrugs, and Yuu's heart sinks. His tone isn't even laced with a sense of remorse or pity. It's... completely and utterly calm as he rejects Yuu's work. “Besides, as you've mentioned, I most likely already have the recipes somewhere in my library. Though having them all compiled in one is certainly convenient, I'd rather do so myself.”

"I still want you to have it." He glances down and leaves the book on the desk, untouched, then takes a step back.

“Yuu… It really isn’t─”

"If you don't want it as a gift, then take it... t-then take it as trash or-..." he breathes in, "Anyway. What matters is that it's yours. Throw it away, sell it, I don't care. But it's yours." He tries to act nonchalant, but he can already feel the lump in his throat becoming larger, cutting any air from getting to his lungs.

Why did he even say that?!

Anyways, before Azul can say or do anything else, Yuu simply walks out the VIP Lounge and out of Octavinelle. He pushes out a smiling Jade and ignores a greeting from Floyd. The atmosphere was just so heavy, suffocating. And all in all, Yuu was sure this was the most pathetic he'd acted in front of Azul ever.

And all he could hear was the sound of Floyd's annoyed whine to his brother just as he crossed the mirror portal door.

"Heeeeyyyy~~ what is up with Shrimpy today~??”

[doublycharming-tetraquark]

Claudia thoughts and meta - Part 1

So this is the first in a series of post I will make about Claudia. I have explained the context for it in my Prologue Post.

Okay, in this post, I will be talking about how I approach Claudia in Context 1, namely in terms of disability as a metaphor and how I don’t believe she was “always meant for the fire”. I will probably make a separate post about her entire story arc and body image issues.

Trigger Warnings for mentions of sexual assault, self-harm, lynching, and suicide ideation (The suicide ideation is mainly imposed on the character by others).

CONTEXT

This post is in many ways a reply to this post by @kutputli . I will be using both this and the show as I interpreted it to make my arguments. As kutputli said,

I don't feel sad about Claudia's narrative arc. I feel incandescantly enraged. And this boils down to the fact that Claudia's narrative is one of disability, and the thing is - disability is not an inherant tragedy............And very often disability has been turned into tragedy, centred around the inevitibility of the disabled person's death. There is catharsis provided to the abled people mourning them with the reassurance that their removal from the narrative was meant to happen...........When Claudia says, at the trial, 'you should have told me I had a defect' - that's every adult neurodivergant person whose parents refused to tell them their diagnosis. I am still not clear about how written in stone this 'defect' was. Am I supposed to believe Lestat's narrative of her making, and that he knew for a fact that she would be, what, emotionally immature?

So I already said in my reply to this that these opinions are very similar to mine:

Your thoughts mirror mine in terms of her being disability rep and also that her death was not inevitable but preventable. I hate it when anyone says "oh her story is a tragedy she was always going to die" because it is patently false and ableist and you are just parroting what her oppressors are saying to justify their oppression of her.

I am going to try to prove this in my post. First, I am going to discredit what Lestat and Armand are saying about her (as they are the main source of “Claudia is a mistake!” nonsense) and explain how they are merely imposing their pre-existing biases and ableism onto her that do not have any basis in canon. Then I am going to talk about how her relationship with Madeline is also a criticism of this concept. Finally, I am going to try to sort out my thoughts on whether “Disability as tragedy” is something the show is trying to peddle. I might be straight up ranting at some points but I am new to meta, so bear with me!

LESTAT

The “You should’ve told me I had a defect” scene is heartbreaking and makes everything Lestat does in Season 1 all the more blood-curdling. Okay, so you knew she would have a difficult time, then why the fuck didn’t you give her the tools to be able to deal with it? You knew exactly what she was going through in Episode 4 and Episode 5, and your response was to..make it worse? You made her watch her first lover burn. To what? Teach her a lesson? And what was the fucking lesson exactly? That you are an abusive piece of shit that cannot be trusted?

Then when she starts engaging in self-destructive behavior because she feels horrible and has no idea why, instead of trying to help her, explain to her why she might be feeling this way, he just doubles down on his abuse. “Because you are built like a bird. Because you are a mistake.”-  Imagine how heartbreaking it must be hearing that from your Father, and he was partly responsible for the way she acts in Episode 5. To reiterate: he made her burn her first love! He is all like “Oh, you will not survive out there in the Vampire world”, “Oh you are a mistake blah, blah, blah” without ever giving her any information that might be helpful in order for her to be able to better navigate her circumstances.

When she inevitably gets tired of being treated like shit, she decides to leave.  We see her hiding out in universities, reading books on Vampirism to get the answers Lestat never gave her. That’s when she is sexually assaulted by Bruce. It is harrowing and heartbreaking to watch.

So she goes back to the only safe place she knows : home to Louis and Lestat. Instead of trying to help her through the horrible thing that happened to her, Lestat mocks her for it! He just see it as another way to control her. Points and essentially says, “See? I was right! You should’ve listened to me and never left”, as if this is somehow validation for him treating her like a broken thing and a mistake. LIKE FUCK YOU! YOU WEREN’T RIGHT! YOU NEVER TOLD HER SHIT! The only reason she left was because of you! Your way of helping was essentially abusing her and tearing her down. Now you are trying to use her trauma to justify your abuse of her.

ARMAND

Armand is, in many ways, worse. Because from the moment he meets her, he is already planning her funeral. He says to Louis, “Her mind, as strong as it is, will not survive the test of time....I have seen it all before” or something similar. Louis, who actually KNOWS and loves Claudia, says No, You’re wrong! She can survive! and also “Don’t give up on her. Tell her that she’s beautiful. Tell her that everyday.” And does Armand take that advise? Of course not! He just keeps peddling the “doomed by the narrative” bullshit. In fact, he goes out of his way to contribute to her suffering, by making her star in “My baby loves windows”. And when she clearly states why she doesn’t wanna do it? He decides the only solution is to further torture her by making her wear that demeaning dress all the time. Part of it is cult tactics, but part of it is also Armand trying to speed up her demise. If this had the effect Armand intended in deteriorating her mental health and making her commit suicide, he would have pointed to it, shook his head and been like “See? I always knew this would happen.” FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF, ARMAND.

Of course, that doesn’t happen, because none of these assholes actually understand Claudia, beyond what they impose on her. She is, above all, a survivor. She endures until she can find something better. Instead of letting it break her, she realizes that the coven is shit and finds companionship in Madeline.

MADELINE

Armand also tries to convince Madeline that Claudia is going to throw herself into the fire soon. Madeline shuts that down with “You don’t know that. Maybe I am what she needs to survive.” This is why I really love the Madeline/Claudia dynamic. Madeline, more than anyone, sees Claudia for who she is. She loves Claudia for who she is. She doesn’t see Claudia’s disability as something inherently tragic or as something that makes her “broken, or a mistake”. Here, she is essentially saying, “I will provide her with the help and support she needs to keep going.” And she does! I don’t know if you noticed, but the clothes that Madeline made for her (the pink dress and the yellow dress) are made to be form-fitting in  a way that make her look more like a woman. (I will find the post on how Claudia’s costuming was done in Season 1 to make her look younger and link it later). Then there is also this exchange :

”I think there’s something broken in me. Like I wanna go bang.”

"Then go bang. Then you’ll be alright. Then bang again...And after a while you get used to it.”

At every turn, Madeline is trying to give Claudia the tools to be able to navigate her life, something Lestat never did for her and should’ve. I think the Madeline character and her relationship to Claudia is the most clear instance of the show saying, “Claudia was not always “meant to die”. She could and was able to achieve happiness for herself.”

DISPROVING LESTAT AND ARMAND

“I am still not clear about how written in stone this 'defect' was. Am I supposed to believe Lestat's narrative of her making, and that he knew for a fact that she would be, what, emotionally immature?”

Okay, so this is also what makes me so mad. Neither Armand nor Lestat actually ever explain what is precisely defective about her. All they say is “It is a pity she would not survive” (*melodramatic music plays*). What the fuck are either of you talking about? She is surviving just fine? In fact, I would argue that by Episode 6, she is the only vampire who knows how to successfully navigate her life. As kutputli said:

”And the show itself proved that. Claudia was successfully navigating her life. She was capable of an autonomous existance, we saw that could take care of herself. And even if she had not been able to, Louis had made it very clear that he was happy to be a caregiver to her.........When he was not sufficient, we saw that she was capable of going out to find a new situation. When the cult that she joined offered a solution, she took it. It was a compromise that she found unacceptable and so then she found a way out. She found companionship and a way to ethically get it, without coercing anyone........And she made it out, the architect of her own happiness.......The show showed us Claudia as a metaphor for people with physical developmental disabilities and neurodivergance who keep trying to improve their material conditions and who are capable of the same mundane joy in being alive that any of us are who choose each day to stay alive."

But that doesn’t fit into either of their belief systems, so when they see that she isn’t following the script that they made up for her in their heads, they (along with the coven) conspire to have her lynched. Then they turn around and say “Oh, isn’t it so tragic how she was always meant to die” (*melodramatic music plays*). This is why I don’t particularly care that Armand wasn’t the one to save Louis. Because it doesn’t matter! That would not have redeemed him any more than it redeems Lestat. (no matter how hard the show and fandom tries). THEY GOT CLAUDIA LYNCHED!

Both Armand and Lestat use the “doomed from creation” myth to justify her death (lynching) to themselves.

People ask why Armand didn’t save Claudia. As Assad succinctly puts it “He doesn’t give a fuck about her.” Like I said, Armand is planning her funeral from the moment he meets her. So it was probably very easy for him to throw her to the wolves, justifying it by saying “oh she was always meant to die. What does it matter if it happens now or later?”  I don’t think he feels any guilt for it either, beyond how it affects Louis (and his relationship with Louis). This, in my opinion, is partly why he is so resentful that Louis hasn’t forgiven him for his part in Claudia’s death. Why should he feel bad for something that was always meant to happen?

I think, to an extent, Lestat also does this to justify letting her die while saving Louis. He also probably tells himself, “She was a mistake that Louis never should’ve forced me to make. She was always going to die anyway. So I should focus on saving only Louis!”,( in addition to his already existing resentment and hatred of her, and also believing her to be the main architect of his death, thus considering it a sort of sick-twisted justice for the “attempted murder of his being.”) In the trial, he only ever “goes off script” to defend Louis, and never Claudia.

Some final thoughts from kutputli:

”Even if Lestat and Armand's belief that she would inevitably kill herself was true, so what? Are we now going to sit around achieving catharsis every time someone murders a suicidal person? Even if she did kill herself 20 years down the line, or 2 years, or 2 months, was she not entitled to live the 60 days that she wanted to? Claudia was not stoned, she was lynched, and Lestat and Armand colluded in her premeditated murder. That is not a tragedy. That's a crime.”

I have nothing further to add to this.

CATHARSIS? ABSOLUTELY NOT!

"And very often disability has been turned into tragedy, centred around the inevitibility of the disabled person's death. There is catharsis provided to the abled people mourning them with the reassurance that their removal from the narrative was meant to happen..........And so I feel no catharsis, even at seeing Louis finally addressing his grief and growing beyond it. A profound injustice was perpetrated, and killing Santiago and the other coven members does not provide restitution. Accountability would start by Armand and Lestat both taking back their judgement about her unsuitability to live and survive and thrive.”

Okay, so when I consider her story only in this context, then I also believe there isn’t and shouldn’t be any catharsis for any of the characters involved. And there is no justice either. Even the show acknowledges that killing the Theatre Vampires does not the provide the restitution Claudia deserves. As Louis puts it: “What does it matter? Claudia was dead.” and after killing the Theatre: “My rage and madness left me. And nothing replaced it.” I want to be clear: When I talk about some catharsis for Louis for Claudia’s death, I absolutely do not mean it in this context! That has more to do with the second and third context in which I approach Claudia’s story and Claudia-Louis’ dynamic. (I will explain in the next few posts.)

SO, IS THE SHOW PEDDLING THIS SHIT?

Till Episode 8 and subsequent interviews, I fully believed that the show was doing this deliberately. That the point was to subvert “Disabled people are bound for tragedy.” As someone said (I will link the post of I find it), Vampire Society is very much about punching down. Claudia’s arc is tragic not because she was “made too young” or “she is a mistake”, but because she was living in a (vampiric) society that very much have “eugenics” notion of what an ideal vampire is. (Recall the law of Vampirism -  The gift should never be given to the elderly, children or disabled people.) To me, the tragedy of Claudia’s arc is that its not actually a tragedy, but due to the circumstances of her making and the cruelty of Vampirism, it becomes a tragedy because no one can let her live without their own worldview being shattered.

But....In  Episode 8, they had Louis say “I made you turn her just so 50 years later, she could...(die)”. A sentiment echoed by the fandom that I never liked. Now this could’ve been Louis expressing his grief, written in a somewhat clunky manner. (because from reading between the lines, its clear that this was the first draft that they weren’t completely happy with but couldn’t do anything about.) But some of the shit Rolin Jones has said makes me doubt it. Of course, Rolin Jones has no fucking filter and says the most bizarre shit. I don’t know. Maybe it’ll be clearer to me during the second rewatch. For now, I choose to believe that the show is criticizing it and Lestat’s and Armand’s comments are more a reflection of them than her. But if they are indeed using “Disability is inherently tragic” unironically, then this might not be the show I thought it was.

[isabelinlove]

Rescue

Pairing: Isabel x Roman (pre-relationship)

Word Count: 580

Summary: Roman rescues Isabel from a creepy guy at a party. Takes place between seasons 3 and 4.

Warnings: Descriptions of unwanted advances from the aforementioned creepy guy (nothing too horrible, though)

A/N: New year, new me? Absolutely not, have another Romebel ficlet. 😊 Wrote this because I really wanted some fake dating, even if it only works for a 5-minute scenario. (Also, creepy guy was written with several unsavory characters in current US politics in mind 🤢)

Isabel glances around the densely-packed room, observing a crowd composed largely of self-important rich assholes. The purpose of attending tonight’s soiree: to scout potential investors for the Roy siblings’ new company. Isabel is Roman’s plus one, naturally. Right now, however, he's off schmoozing, and so she stands in a corner alone. Not a problem for her — she appreciates having a breather — until she notices a strange man coming towards her. He’s pudgy, with beady eyes, and the unmistakable look of being ‘on the prowl.’

Fuck, Isabel thinks to herself as the man comes closer.

“Hey,” he says, eyeing her like a piece of meat.

“Hi,” she replies brusquely, looking away and taking a few steps back. That usually deters them, but this one is persistent.

“You here with someone?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. He’s around here somewhere,” Isabel replies, desperately glancing around the room for Roman. No sign of him. The man goes on to introduce himself, but she’s having a hard time focusing on anything other than the predatory look in his eye and the smell of onions emanating from him. His last name sounds vaguely familiar, though. Probably the nepo baby son of some shitbag Republican senator. He reaches out to shake her hand and it’s unpleasantly hot and sweaty.

Isabel discreetly wipes her hand on her dress as he continues to talk — at her, not to her. Trying to make himself sound impressive, like all these guys do. She nods along politely, hoping the conversation will be over soon.

Unfortunately, Onion Guy has other plans. He leans in closer as he continues to talk — so close that the smell is almost overwhelming — and then, to Isabel’s horror, places a hand on her shoulder. Her heart pounds anxiously, and she glances around again. This time, thankfully, she sees Roman, emerging from a crowd of men in Armani suits. She catches his eye and gives him a look. Help. He immediately strides over, looking about as disgusted as she feels.

“Hey, honey pie,” Roman says once he gets to her, instantly changing his demeanor to something cheerful and boyfriendly. He snakes an arm around her waist and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Was wondering where you were.” Isabel is taken aback — he’s never used this strategy before. It seems to work, though — Onion Guy immediately unhands her and takes a step back. A look of embarrassment crosses his face as he realizes whose date he’s been flirting with.

“Was this guy bothering you?” Roman asks, tightening his grip on Isabel’s waist. She nods, putting on her best ‘damsel in distress’ pout. It may be an act, but she can’t deny that this whole interaction has her feeling a little fluttery inside.

Roman turns his attention to Onion Guy. “You can go now,” he says, making a shooing gesture with his hand.

“I- I was just-”

“Mm, don’t care. Get the fuck away from her.” Onion Guy is significantly larger than Roman, but the fear in his eyes is palpable. He scuttles off into the crowd.

Roman turns his attention back to Isabel, looking uncharacteristically concerned. He removes his arm from her waist and gently takes her hand.

“You good?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” she replies, still processing what just happened. The deranged part of her wishes he’d keep up the act for the rest of the night. No way in hell she’d admit that, though. “Thanks for rescuing me, honey pie,” she jests. Roman grins.

“Any time.”

Tagging @tomfoolies

[astaldis]

Issue no 32 - Kneeling: Prison Blues

@whumpers-monthly

Ups, whumpee has to do an awful lot of kneeling in this fic 🙈 (and these here are only some examples).

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Whumpee: Cahir

Whumper: Emhyr var Emreis

Caretaker: Assire var Anahid, Jaskier

Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Jaskier, Emhyr var Emreis, Assire var Anahid, Merlin (the cat), Menno Coehoorn, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen

Relationships: Cahir/Emhyr

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: GDoV, Rape/Non-Con, torture, Dead Dove Do Not Eat!

Words: 32,676; Chapters: 14/14

Written pre-season 3, compliant with seasons 1+2

Excerpt from Chapter 3: ... and Punishment

"Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach. My once most trusted commander. What a pity it has come to that." Emhyr's voice is almost gentle as he looks at the badly bruised prisoner who is standing, back to the far wall and barefoot, in the dimly-lit dungeon cell. They have, of course, not only stripped him of his weapons, but also of his armour and most of his clothes, leaving the prisoner in only a thin, black shirt and pants which are, by now, bloodstained and dirty.

"On your knees, traitor!" he then barks, the sudden shift in tone lending even more bite to the Emperor's harsh command. 

Having expected the guards to come back for another round of beating when the door creaked open, not Emhyr var Emreis himself to enter his cell, Cahir unelegantly falls to his knees in front of his Emperor after the initial shock of surprise. This then is surely it, the final verdict he has been waiting for for nearly three weeks of imprisonment. And daily physical abuse. As the Emperor rules, no, has to rule Nilfgaard with an iron fist, most likely the end. Another execution, and what are the odds of escaping a second time?

Excerpt from Chapter 4: A Weird Visit

"You look - dreadful. But alive, as I promised," the Emperor drawls. Cahir's eyes fly open in a strange mixture of shock and hope. He has no idea at all anymore of what to expect of the White Flame. More punishment and torture? Or was that it and he will be pardoned, released on probation, perhaps? Admittedly, this sounds too good to be true, so it probably will not happen any time soon. But while there is life, there is hope, isn't that how the saying goes? And he is alive after all, like Emhyr promised.

The Emperor keeps eying him up with an inscrutable, dark gaze as Cahir kneels down before him. He must look dreadful, indeed. And smell awful, too, of dried blood and sweat and unwash. At least he did not piss or shit his pants during the torture, nor afterwards. He would have died of shame if he had.

"I know this is going to be a rather, let's say, one-sided conversation, obviously. But don't worry, you are not expected to say anything," the Emperor says eventually in an almost friendly, conversational tone of voice. "Just the occasional nod or shaking of the head will suffice. Actually, a nice change from those tedious conversations at court. Perhaps I should have a few more tongues removed just to stop the constant complaints and ridiculous requests those courtiers bore me with each and every day." He pauses as if seriously contemplating the idea. Maybe he is.

"You probably think you have it bad at the moment," he then goes on. "I admit, your circumstances are not exactly - delightful." He looks around the prison cell meaningfully. "Surely a far cry from what you were used to here in the palace. But," he starts pacing up and down in front of the still kneeling prisoner, "try being an Emperor. Imagine the permanent fear of one of your most trusted advisors turning against you, betraying you for the sake of their own agenda. The possibility of one of your allegedly most loyal nobel families secretly plotting your demise to replace you. The perhaps not utterly unfounded suspicion that your most devoted mistress is spying on you, selling your secrets to the enemy or trying to murder you in your sleep. The not totally far-fetched fear that your most talented mage might decide to curse you into an abominable monster. And, let's not forget," his voice lowers into a dangerous growl, "imagine your favourite commander lying to you - well, you'd know this one, Cahir, wouldn't you?"

Cahir stares up at Emhyr in confusion. Is the Emperor really implying that he has it worse than his prisoner?

Excerpt from Chapter 7: A Welcome Surprise

As it soon turns out, the water is not intended for the dungeon floor, nor its walls, but for the prisoner. The guards grab Cahir by his shoulders and make him kneel in front of one of the buckets. His heart starts to race wildly. They are not going to water torture him, are they? Before he can think of any reason at all why they would do that, the guards dunk his head into the bucket. Cahir struggles, panicking. To his very surprise, though, the guards let go of him almost immediately. He comes up and gulps in as much air as he can, fully expecting his head to be forced under water again right away. However, it does not happen. Confused, he looks up, only now realising that the water dripping from his face and hair onto his soaked shirt is pleasantly warm. Curious. 

When the guards do not repeat the treatment, but step away from the bucket instead, making room for the elderly servant, it finally dawns on Cahir that this is not meant as torture. A correct conjecture as the woman produces a bar of hard soap from the basket and starts rubbing it into the prisoner's dripping wet hair with deft fingers. It is not exactly the fragrance of violets and roses that starts filling the dungeon air but something more basic with a tinge of ammonia and ash. However, it smells, and feels, nicely clean.

Excerpt from Chapter 8: Ruin

"You look much better. The haircut is definitely an improvement. As well as the fresh clothes. Black does suit you," the Emperor says appraisingly when he comes to visit the prisoner late in the evening that day. Thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being clean for once, Cahir was, for the lack of a blanket, already half asleep in his new shirt and pants when the door creaked open, and thought he was dreaming at first. But he was not. The Emperor is here in his cell. And he is, once again, kneeling before him with trepidation, not having a clue about what to expect of the visit. More punishment? Absolution and release? Just another, rather one-sided, chat? Anything is possible. Which is quite unsettling. 

"Let's see if the food and exercise are doing you good, too," Emhyr continues. "Take off your shirt."

Cahir does as he is ordered. 

"Hmm, far better, indeed. Lean, but wiry." Emhyr reaches down to the kneeling prisoner and clutches Cahir's upper arm with one hand, feeling his biceps. "And muscular enough. The push-ups are paying off, I guess." Then, this time with the slightly callused inside of his thumb, he traces down one of the fresh scars that runs from Cahir's shoulder to his wrist, giving the young knight goosebumps all over. "Healed nicely, too. Not painful anymore, I hope?" Cahir shakes his head, surprised at the question. Is the White Flame concerned about him after all?

"Good. I trust you still remember the lesson, though?" 

The lesson. Cahir swallows visibly at the memory. Of course, he remembers, how could he forget? Bowing his head and looking down at the stone floor, he nods.

"What are you waiting for then?" The Emperor suddenly barks at him. "Strip!"

Excerpt from Chapter 14: ... and out of the woods?

"Wait, Geralt. There is no need, I assure you. This will only get embarrassing - for everybody."

"I need to see for myself before I believe it," the Witcher retorts, shrugs off the vampire's hand and sets off further into the woods careful not to make any noise. Which he, being an experienced monster hunter, accomplishes with ease. As does - being an experienced hunter of all kinds of non-monstery creatures - Milva the archer, who follows the Witcher's lead, whether mostly out of curiosity or concern, she does not know for sure herself. Naturally, as there should always be a voice of reason and logic, Regis is right behind her. Being a more than four hundred-year-old higher vampire, he is making no sound at all.

What the trio finds in the dim light of dusk is this: 

The Nilfgaardian warrior who utterly fearlessly led an entire army into battle just a few days ago - admittedly, it was a very small and insignificant battle no history book would ever mention and only a ragtag guerrilla army but nevertheless, they won against the superior Imperial forces, even if the victory was achieved only, but permissibly, by quickly retreating from the battleground - this fierce warrior is kneeling on the forest floor sobbing his heart out onto the bard's shoulder while the bard, who is likewise kneeling, is holding the crying knight in a tight embrace, murmuring words of comfort in his ear and patting him soothingly on the back. A scene as heartbreakingly cute as disturbing. And a situation that ought not be disturbed. Under no circumstances and definitely not by a grumpy old, paranoid Witcher who expected to find something totally different. Fortunately, said Witcher has sense enough to sense this all on his own and without Regis admonishing him or Milva poking him in the ribs. Which they do anyways. Before they leave again as quickly and quietly as they have come.

Only a faint scent of woodworm, basil, sage, aniseed and cinnamon keeps lingering between the silent trees. Then it, too, vanishes without a trace.

[too-many-rooks]

Writing procrastination game!

Thanks @lastlymatt for tagging me, I got rambly so I’ll put this under a ‘read more’

Tagging @pigandpepper @known-concepts @countessrivers

1.) what’s the name of one of your wips?

My doc names are usually very boring 95% of the time I finish a fic and think it’s ready to post and realise I need a title. How about ‘Yassen Bedroom Visit’?

2.) Describe a Wip in the format of __+__=__

SCORPIA heir Alex + totally normal kidnapping and drugging in the middle of the night get to safety orienteering exercises = childhood trauma

3.) What tags/warnings will one of your Wips need if you share it?

Forced child seperation?

4.) alternative title to a wip?

I don’t really have alternate titles! Titles tend to come pretty late in the process!

5.) which wip are you most likely to update/finish next?

Probably one of my s3 aus I’ve got brewing, there’s a longer thing I posted the first chapter of today but I also have some one shots, one where Yassen gets wounded fighting off Alex’s enemies and Alex basically has to hold him down to say he cares about him, and another where Yassen comes to chat to him in the middle of the night (while Alex is sleeping) and they catch up.

6.) what is one of your wip’s document title, not what it’s name is but what you have it saved as?

Again, extremely boring. Some examples - ‘Tom/House introduction’, ‘stables’, ‘the ball’, ‘heir apparent 1-9’, ‘hunting’ ‘hostage’ ‘orienteering.’

On reflection, these are very badly organised. But, hey Ho.

7.) post any sentence from your WIP?

Okay this took me forever to decide bc I want to share like, all of my sentences, but here’s a sentence from my SCORPIA heir Alex thing where Yassen just tries to take a day off, but is interrupted by Alex sneaking out of school/the country and mountain his school is on

‘Rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, he blocked out the little blonde headache sat before him, and sighed, already imagining the state of his email inbox when he got back to his laptop, which he’d sworn would stay folded in its case for the rest of the day.

“And how long ago was this? When should I start expecting panicked calls from your father?”‘

8.) a scrapped idea from your WIP?

Not necessarily a scrapped idea but evidently one I forgot about and rediscovered as I was flicking through google docs - originally a pre-season 3 idea (but could work post s3) where Yassen retires, and decides it’s time for Alex to retire too, even if he doesn’t want to. Very “congratulations you are being adopted! Do not resist.” Meme with Yassen that I’ve seen on here, the bit I’d written was him contemplating the least traumatising way to kidnap him, to make sure they’re a happy family unit post-kidnapping

9.) what’s a story you would love to write but have yet to start?

Alex sees dead people AU - Ian knows, when he dies his ghost becomes bound to Alex, and helps take care of him/watch over him in the field, Alex bumps into Yassen at Point Blanc and immediately recognises the ghost bound to him as his father, especially as he begs the assassin to stop pretending like he can’t hear him for once and let him see his son, to protect him.

10.) how many WIPs are you actively working on?

Four - regency fic, darker Alex s3 au, two other s3 aus I mentioned earlier. Suprised myself by how much of this longer ‘SCORPIA heir’ Alex thing that I’d put off for a while I’ve actually written. That’s one that I really want to finish before I start posting bc I’m bad at doing work without an immediate emotional reward/it’s a longer than anything I’ve written before and I don’t want to give up on it when it’s half published. I had been delaying it till after s3 but maybe time to get to work (will try and finish regency fic first)

11.) is there a scene your struggling to write now?

Oh I mean so many but the most immediate stumbling block is with the regency fic, chapter after this one they go to a ball and that’s almost basically written and so is a lot of the next two chapters but there’s things I need to thread into this chapter that just don’t want to be threaded - I need Alex to start being a bit more suspicious of Yassen, and remember that whole thing about his uncle being murdered now he’s a bit passed the initial princess diaries revelation moment.

I was thinking like Alex waiting up for him on Christmas Eve or something and falls asleep then is woken by Yassen sneaking back in and Alex noticed he’s got blood on his clothes or something and Yassen just shrugs him off and reacts more strictly/authoritatively than he has before. But the scene is a bit sludgy I my mind atm.

12.) Not a question but a second kudos!

[juno-box]

BTSing my Fic w/Juno: DoTWD Ch. 3

Hey howdy! So I wanted to share a bunch of behind the scenes things with my fanfic, this time around namely deleted scenes, added scenes and scraped content! Let’s begin!

Chapter 3

So, if you don’t know, I have a word doc that lists out potential plot points for every season from 1 to 4. I also keep a folder full of scraped characters, chapters and cut dialogue for some reason! Chapter 3 didn’t have too many changes, but here!

There was originally 6 messages on the answering machine, 2 of which was from Rachel’s father

So the messages in chapter were changed slightly to reflect the fact that Clem and Ray’s parents know one another. But while Ray’s mother, Emily and Clem’s parents, Ed & Diana are both in Savannah, they went down for different reasons.

But there was a relatively big difference in the recordings. Originally, Emily was going to mention Rachel’s father, and that he was out of state on business.

The first 2 messages were supposed to be Emily & Diana talking to Sandra pre-outbreak, the 3rd was Emily and Diana’s final message which was wholly different. The original final message started with Emily saying she’d been calling for hours and all the calls dropped. She then would say that her husband called a few hours prior and said something was wrong, and that they needed to get out of the city. He didn’t explain what he meant, or where he was but only said to get the girls out of Atlanta and meet him in Rutledge. She’ll then get cut off by something before the message ends.

Message 4 & 5 are from Rachel’s father. He tries to explain what’s going on the best he can to an 8-year-old. It’s heavily implied his occupation is something involved with virology. The message is cut off. It starts again in message 4 with him explaining he told her mother where to meet them. He warns her not to try and go home either, tells them they have get out of cities. The message is cut off once again.

This entire moment was rewritten & changed because holy exposition dump, Batman! Why would Lee need to know any of that so early on?? As far as Lee goes, he barely knows what’s going on at this point. Getting spoon fed critical information, albeit vaguely would eventually come up again should the topic of their parents arise and he’ll basically know to avoid cities, which if that’s relayed back to the group, then no more Savannah plotline, which means Clem would be hugely upset, along with Rachel. No closure for either of them. Dad was written out of the scene entire because of it. Besides, he doesn’t even have a role or appearance for him to be so talkative anyways lol.

Yes, this version is still intact and written.

Emily was originally in Athens

Emily was originally going to be in Athens, GA. This was changed after I scrapped the original messages because if they go to Savannah, they’ll be going further and further away from Ray’s mom. And with Rachel’s personality, she wouldn’t take that well at all.

Originally, Sandra didn’t attack Lee during the day, but at night instead

The Sandra scene didn’t happen in the original draft. Instead, Clem, Ray & Travis would climb down and meet Lee without having to save him from Sandra.

Lee would ask about the babysitter’s whereabouts, and the trio would sadly reveal she was attacked two nights prior.

Skipping to 9:00 PM, Lee would say they should leave. Rachel would say she has to go get her bag (she had a bag in this version btw) and her and Clem would go upstairs by crawling underneath a knocked over bookshelf.

Travis looks at the stairs and mentions he never put that bookcase there. Before Lee could ask what he means, the girls would scream from upstairs. Lee and Travis would heave the bookshelf from the stairs and run upstairs to see a walker banging on a door the girls have locked themselves in. Lee would yell for the walker’s attention and fight off the walker. He can’t find a weapon so he tries to heave it down stairs but he grabs him and pulls him down with him. He falls with it and kicks it down the last few steps before Clem gives him a hammer and he kills it. Rachel says they found Sandra.

Scrapped because the continuity is awful here. There’s zero shot Travis didn’t see walker Sandra upstairs the day before if her was searching for 20 minutes or something!

This version can be read here!

That’s all she wrote for now! I’ll be back for Chapter 4!

[amyelevenn]

heyy any chance i could request 25 ("Don't get in my way") with Max and Red Bull driver!reader?

winner of what?

PAIRING; Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!reader

SUMMARY; Max thinks you are going to ruin his chance at a fifth World Driver's Championship, and he can't let that happen. set in 2025, but doesn't necessarily follow the schedule

WARNINGS; small description of violence of a crash, angst, manipulative Max

A/N; thank you so much for this request! I hope I did your idea justice:)) also the longest fic I have ever written? thats crazy

not proof read

3.7k words masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

You were new here. You were an outsider. You knew that, and you hated every moment of it.

Despite knowing most people on the paddock by now, you couldn’t get rid of the lingering feeling that some of the mechanics or others despised you for taking Checo’s seat, even though you had rightfully won it. You knew that no one actually thought that, but the idea always sat idly in the back of your mind.

The season had barely begun (if you count pre-season testing as the start of the season), and yet here you were, already finding new ways to doubt your own abilities.

After a rough season with RB and Daniel, you were more than ready to actually be in the fight for podiums and wins, rather than measly points. Even with a one-year contract, you were determined to make this season yours, proving to Red Bull that they should keep you around for a little while longer.

Your new teammate, Max, was just coming down from a high of winning his fourth DWC and constructors’ with Red Bull, and you couldn’t be more excited to join the likes of these champions.

You hadn’t really met or had a chance to interaction with him, despite the many team meetings and social media outings you did together. He never really introduced himself; was there really any need too anyway? You knew he was Max Verstappen, 4-time world champion, and that was all you really needed when it came to him. You had raced with him on the grid for a few years now, so it brought you a little comfort to be able to say you at least were familiar with the surface level version of him.

From what Daniel had told you, the persona the media had given him was far from the truth; he wasn’t a villain, a monster out to make everyone’s race a living hell. No, Max was a pretty stand-up guy. According to Daniel, he was “just your type” and the two of you would “vibe like crazy” when you finally spoke to each other.

In fact, it was your ex-teammate who was the one to take the first initiative and introduce you to each other. You were at a season launch lunch, sitting by yourself at your table when Daniel, dragging Max along behind him, sat himself down beside you.

“It had recently been brought to my attention that you two have not been formally introduced, so I am going to do it for you,” he grins, almost proud of himself. Patting the seat on your other side, you look up a Max, silently offering him a seat.

He politely refuses, but the glare Daniel gives him is enough incentive for him to quietly take the seat.

“Now talk to each other.” The Aussie stands, taking his leave. “I am going to go back to the bar an get some more drinks, but I better see both your traps yapping or I’m not gonna be happy.”

An awkward silence entails, neither of you knowing where to start after he walks away.

“…He can be very bossy when he wants to be,” Max chuffs, being the one to break the silence. You laugh quietly in agreement, and the conversation flows pleasantly for the next few hours.

It isn’t until the sun begins to set that you realise how long you had been talking, and that Daniel never did come back. In the most subtle way you can manage, without disturbing Max who was looking on his phone for the best photos of his cats, you peer around the luncheon in hopes of finding your ex-teammate. Spotting him sitting at the bar, he was already looking your way; smirking, he taps his watch, and you can almost hear him say I told you so.

It’s the opening race of the season, and what a stellar start it was for Red Bull; a front row lock-out in qualifying, and a 1-2 podium, Max triumphing for what was the first time this year. It was exhilarating, being up on the podium with the others, especially considering it was your debut race with your new team. It wasn’t your first podium, of course, but this time around it felt much more earned, like you were finally getting recognised for your achievements.

At the debriefing, Max off-handedly mentioned the team going out to celebrate the win and asked if you wanted to come along. It was a stupid question, and he knew it; who were you to turn down the opportunity to commemorate your maiden podium?

You were out all night, not officially going back to your hotel room until the sun had risen the next morning. Although you didn’t remember much, there were multiple accounts recounted to you that you had been glued to Max’s side for majority of the party, including from the man himself. Photos of the two of you swarmed your messages and social media; his hand on the small of your back, yours grasping his shoulder for dear life.

He bought you drinks; you bought him drinks. It was a sweet cycle that had you both wasted within a couple hours, you more so than him. Even with your foggy recollection of the night, you knew that Max and you were getting closer, and you didn’t mind one bit of it.

The second race saw a similar fate; P1 for Max and P2 for yourself again, and the afterparty leading to very close proximity for the pair of you. Whilst you didn’t drink as heavily this time, you still felt just as intoxicated from the mere presence of him so near you.

“I know it’s only two races into the season, but you are already by far my favourite teammate that I’ve had,” you laugh, sure that he would barely be able to hear you over the blaring music.

He laughs too, leaning closer to you to be able to whisper in your ear, “same goes for you, Liefde.”

You didn’t even know what the nickname meant, but it sent chills down your spine. You didn’t question it, letting the mystery of his native language sway with you to the bass of the music.

The next few races would follow the same pattern; Max would finish the race above you, he would invite you to a party, and you would dance together much closer than two friends ever would. Even after coming second to Charles in the Monegasque’s home race, Max kept up this new tradition you had created.

Outside of the clubs and bars, he never acknowledged his behaviour. And because he didn’t, you didn’t either. No one asked about it, so it never got brought up, but people knew enough to expect it during any afterparties.

Interviews, podiums together, and in the cool down room, all that the public would see is two teammates celebrating each other’s achievements.

It wasn’t until you were actually able to give Max a run for his money for P1 after he had a poor pit stop that there was a falter in the routine. It all came down to the final lap; you overtook him at turn 1, he retaliated into turn 3, you got a better jump from the hairpin, but ultimately, he was the one who crossed the line ahead of you, even if it was only by a couple tenths of a second.

The cooldown room was tense, a state it had never been before. Even Carlos, known for his non-stop yapping, was quiet, knowing that something wasn’t quite right between the two of you. Of course, he didn’t know what it was, but honestly, you didn’t either – to your understanding, you were just having a good, competitive race, but Max must’ve thought otherwise.

He didn’t invite you to any celebrations afterwards, but others did. It made no difference either way who you went with; he was nowhere to be seen.

You didn’t talk to him much during the doubleheader, focusing more on the want to finally get your first win. With how well the car had been performing, and the statistics showing that you were closing in on Max more and more every race, a win this week was well within the realm of possibility.

With 5 laps left in the race, Max was leading with you hot on his heels, and Lando hot on yours. But all it took for everything to spiral into a flaming hot mess was for Max to cut you off, not leaving you enough room. It resulted in sending you spinning and crashing hard into a wall. Max, struggling to regain his composure, was overtaken by Lando. Red flags were waved, and the Brit was the first to see the checkered flag, trundling along behind the safety car.

To say you were heartbroken was an understatement. Nothing could describe just how angry and devastated you were that you didn’t even get to finish the race, and how willing your teammate was to just blatantly cut you off, all but forcing you into the wall.

Honestly, you wanted to cry, but you held yourself together throughout the media conferences, restraining yourself from diminishing Max’s performance today. As much as you wanted to, and boy did you really want to, a manager pulled you away before you could express your true feelings.

For whatever reason he thought it was appropriate, it was the Dutchman who invited you to celebrations of his win. You declined, being as polite as you physically could, claiming you just wanted to go back to your hotel room and sleep the night away.

He muttered some sweet nothings about ‘it not being the same without you,’ and ‘the party will be such a bore if you aren’t by my side,’ as if nothing had happened between you.

The stark contrast between his personas almost gave you whiplash, but regardless of you left by yourself. You tired and tried your hardest to convince yourself that the reason you weren’t partying tonight was because you just wanted to forget about such a poor end to such an amazing weekend. But in your core, you knew it was because you didn’t want to be with Max, to fall into his traps, be seduced by his niceties.

Were they even real? You weren’t sure what they were anymore.

You were in a new country within a day of the last race, completing videos for Red Bull’s socials, some even with Daniel by your side.

Naturally, he questioned your relationship with your teammate once the cameras were off.

Stunned silence was the only answer you could give him. With some gentle coaxing, he gets some information out of you.

“It’s just… I don’t even… I’ve never delt with anything like this in my life. Normally I can separate my outside life and racing, but he is just there. Always there,” you sigh, not realising how heavy the situation was weighing on your chest.

He hums in understanding. “I think you need to talk to him about it all.”

“I tried, once. He just pretended like he didn’t know what I was talking about, as if there was nothing happening between us,” you say. “It isn’t like a want a fully committed relationship with him or anything, I just… I’m so confused, I don’t know what to do. I really like him Dan. I don’t want to stop hanging out with him, he’s become a good friend, but I also don’t want to keep being led on like this. If that is what this even is?”

You collapse on your chair, covering your face in shame. The Aussie doesn’t have much to offer except some quiet consolations, softly rubbing your back in hopes of bringing you some comfort.

Your confidence had taken a hit, and it showed in your race results. Finishing P5 behind Max’s P1 wasn’t exactly a poor result, but for consistently being on the podium this season, you were not happy. You wanted to blame the car, or the slow pitstops (they were actually the two fastest of the race), but you knew deep down it wasn’t either of those.

A knock on your driver room door made you falter, unsure of who even knew you were in there.

“Who is it?” you ask, not bothering to move from your position.

The door creaks open, and you look over your shoulder to see the handsome smile that belonged to the one and only.

“What do you want, Max?”

“‘Congrats on the win Max, you had a great race.’ That’s so sweet, thank you,” he mocks your voice, laughing as he leans against the doorframe.

You don’t laugh, finding no humour in the situation.

“We are going out again tonight, to Frankie’s. you heard of it?” he continues, as if you weren’t glaring daggers at him.

You turn yourself to face him. “Who’s we?” you ask, ignoring his question.

“You and I, of course,” he says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“I’m not going out with you tonight.”

“Sure you are, we have to celebrate my win!”

“No, Max. And that’s final.” You stand, grabbing the door to usher him out.

“I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

“No.”

“I’ll see you then,” he grins, walking away to his own room.

And true to his word, he is at the door of your hotel room, three minutes to 8. You don’t bother answering the door, leaving him knocking and calling your name. He leaves not long after, and you’re left to spend the night alone.

Finally, it was time for the Spa Grand Prix, the reigning World Driver’s Champion’s home race. You knew this race was important to Max, and what better way to one up him than to beat him in his home country?

You out qualify him in every possible way – free practises, Q1 and Q2. When it came time for Q3, you wish him luck as he jumps into his car. He grants it in return, but you know it doesn’t hold much value to it.

You complete your timed lap first, clocking the fastest time the last two days have seen. Max is on track to beat it, but understeers around one corner, leading him to…qualify the same time as you?? No, that couldn’t be right…

You sit in shock, looking at the checkered flag was waved. You. In P1. You would start the race up the very front for the first time in your career. You would start ahead of Max. in his home race.

He didn’t have much to comment on it, knowing that the actual competition would come during the race.

The night was a blur, and before you could prepare yourself, the five lights were out, and you were racing in Spa.

You lost the lead before the first lap was even over, and of course it was to Max. You tried to not let it damper your hopes for the win, fiercely fighting him for first place. Halfway into the race, the pair of you were over 30 seconds ahead from Charles, running in P3. You couldn’t remember how many cars you had lapped, but it had to have been at least half of the grid.

With only tenths between you, he crossed the line first. Your heart shattered, but at least you had the fastest lap, right?

Content with the weekend, you took Max up on his offer to go to a party together that night. It didn’t take much to convince you to have a few drinks, and it wasn’t long until you were out on the dance floor. The Dutchman accompanied you, not nearly as drunk as you were.

You let him run his hands down your waist, eventually resting your hips. It made you queasy, how easily he could control every thought you had. You wanted nothing more than this night to ever end, and that was only aided by the sweet nothing he would whisper, only for you to hear.

“I missed having you here with me,” he murmurs, barely audible over the drone of the packed bar you were in. “You’re the only reason I enjoy celebrating my wins.”

A blush creeps up your neck and cheeks, pulling him closer to you. The proximity has you weak, supported only by his hold. You let him sway you side to side, enjoying this side of him. This side you only saw when he was drunk, and you were too.

You couldn’t help but fall back into the rhythm of your relationship with Max. His sickly intoxicating words were music to your ears, leaving you wanting more and more every time. It never escalated into anything physical, but the illusion that it might had you holding onto this faux reality so tightly.

The season was coming to an end, only a few races left on the calendar. One of which was your home race, and you had never been more excited to be a driver in your life. Qualifying saw you on pole for the second time and, a surprise twist for everyone, saw Max sitting in P4, behind the likes of both Ferrari’s.

The thought of him being so many cars behind you brought some comfort to the nerves racking your body. You had never felt so anxious in your life, not even when you were on pole in Spa. You were so, so desperate for this to be your first win.

Red Bull were secure in their Constructor’s Championship, winning for the fourth year in a row. The Driver’s Championship, however, was still anyone’s game. It would be hard for Charles, who was sitting in third, to come back and win it, but it was still a possibility. Sitting in second, you were miraculously only 24 points behind Max. That was close enough to give you hope, determined more than ever. He, on the other hand, was not a happy chap.

On the racetrack, he didn’t really acknowledge you unless he had too. Off the racetrack? Max was a completely different person, never one to break the routine that had begun again.

During the formation lap, you felt the nerves and cheers radiating off of the crowd, supporting you in their wake. Being their only representation, you had a lot sitting on your shoulders.

The lights flicked on. One by one, taking what felt like forever to finally disappear. And when they did, you got the best jump of the group, leading the grid into the first, second, third corners and what would be the next 30 laps of the race.

Max had made up positions, closing in on you in first. It wasn’t until he made a stupid, irresponsible decision to try and overtake in a corner that was not made for two cars, causing a collision that his car couldn’t walk away from. Yours was in much better shape, only having damage to the front wing.

Whilst yeah, you lost multiple positions, his DNF sparked so much hope in your chest that there was almost nothing stopping you from winning this race.

Within record time, you jumped from ninth to first, giddy at the idea of actually winning for the first time in front of your home crowd. With only 1 lap to go, you were crying. You couldn’t lose it now, with whoever was running second so far behind you there was simply no chance of them catching up. You vision was blurred, but you could still see the checkered flag clear as day. People were screaming over the radio, but it all muddled together.

Stepping onto that first-place podium and hearing your national anthem was a dream come true. Literally. Sweat mixed with champagne, and for once you didn’t dread being sprayed. Revelling in the cheers of the crowd, you were overwhelmed with emotion that you couldn’t even form coherent sentences.

Someone, you aren’t quite sure who, mentions that because of your win, you were now first in the Driver’s Championship; Max’s DNF cost him the lead. How ironic.

Back in the team garage, you’re pulled away before you can get a big team photo.

Surprise is the last thing you feel when you see your teammate being the one to lead you away from everyone.

“What are you doing? We need to take the photo, Max. I don’t want to miss the photo,” you whine, laughing from the absurdity of the situation.

The door of whatever room he’s pulled you too slammed behind him, a loud bang you weren’t expecting.

“What the hell were you doing out there?”

“…what?” you ask, confused on what the hell he was talking about.

“Your shitty driving pushed me into the wall. Your shitty driving cost me the championship.”

“No, Max, the incident was your fault. Not mine.”

He looks like he’s holding back from strangling you. “No. I told Christian that you would ruin everything, and here we are. What a surprise, I was right.”

“There is still like 3 races left in the season, and I’m only a couple points up. You could very easily come back. No need to freak out.”

“Do not get in my way of my fifth championship, or else I’ll make sure you never race for any team, ever again.”

He had never been this mad, not in front of you.

“Fuck you, Max. At this point in time, I hold the title. Not you. It is not yours to claim,” you retaliate, fed up with him ruining your day.

“I bet you grinding your ass on me every night was a manipulation tactic, wasn’t it? To get in my head, fuck with my races.”

“What?? You were the one asking me to come with you, not the other way around. Do not try and turn this around on me Max.”

Down the hall, you could hear people calling out for you. He notices it too, opening the door with much gusto. “This isn’t over. Get in my way again, and I will personally see to you never getting in a car again.”

He stalks off, nowhere to be found for the photo. You tell the team not to wait up for him, knowing he would not be coming.

Safe to say that this weekend, this race that you had dreamed of for your whole life, was ruined.

Yeah, you were a winner, but a winner of what?

.・。.・゜✭・✧・✫・゜・。.

as always, feedback is appreciated!

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER SIXTY SIX → SPLIT BLOOD

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 6.2k || masterlist

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

previous chapter ← → next chapter

tagged list: @leptitlu, @sattlersquarry, @laughing-drawing-aces, @adaydreamaway30

The Rink-o-Mania was a glittering gem in their new hometown. It smelled like hairspray and sweat, the carpet made you dizzy if you looked at it for too long, and the place was swarmed with pre-teens and teenagers. The roller rink was El’s top choice of a place to bring Mike to during spring break. 

Since his arrival hours prior, El and Mike had been connected at the hip in a way that annoyed Leia. She loved her sister, and she tolerated Mike, but she hated how El felt the need to pretend like she was having a blast in California. She hadn’t told Mike about Angela’s bullying, the stress over not having her powers, or anything negative at all. El acted as if her life was all rainbows and sunshine in front of the bony Wheeler boy. Why? Leia had no clue. She thought the whole point of dating someone was to share everything with them, the good and the bad. At least, that was what Sunshine always preached. El’s whole thing was not to lie to your friends, but apparently, that didn’t apply to Mike and El. 

The couple sat on one side of the booth, trying each other’s milkshakes and debating which was one the best. Leia and Will sat across from them and Luke pulled up a chair to the end of the table. Since Mike and El were lost in their own little world, Leia tried to cheer up a rather mopey Will. He’d been in a weird mood since Mike arrived, which also didn’t make much sense since he’d been excited ever since they planned Mike’s trip. 

“It’s all about focus,” said Leia. She stared intensely at the French fry she held. “Focus on the fry and don’t look away until…” She tossed the fry up in the air and caught it in her mouth before she threw her hands up in the air triumphantly.

Will cracked a smile. “Did Max teach you that?” 

Leia shook her head. “Steve, actually. He one time caught a Skittle from clear across Sunshine’s living room. It was crazy.” She picked up another fry and angled her body towards Will. “Now, it’s your turn.” 

Will glanced at Mike and El, who were engrossed in a fit of giggles and looked ready to try to catch the fry until his eyes fell past Leia. His eyes widened slightly as he muttered, “Oh no,” under his breath. Leia turned her head to see what he was looking at and found Angela rolling right toward their table with her gaggle of friends behind her. 

It was their first day of spring break, and Leia thought they’d get a well-deserved break from Angela. 

The blonde slammed her hands down on the back of Luke’s chair, causing him to jump and lean forward in fear of her touching him and being forced to see her future. Plus, passing out in front of the bully was too perfect of amo for her. 

“Where, o-where, have you been hiding this handsome thing, Jane?” Angela said, giving Mike a once over in his stupid shirt and equally stupid expression. It took everything in Leia not to gag. 

El tensed up, flickering her gaze between Mike and Angela. “This is Mike, my boyfriend.” 

Leia had never met a shark before, but she imagined they were similar to Angela. She looked hungry for blood, and El might as well sliced her palm open by introducing Mike as her boyfriend. 

She smirked and extended her hand to Mike. “Angela. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Mike, as clueless as usual, shook her hand with a small smile. “I heard a lot about you. It’s really cool to meet one of El, uh, Jane’s friends.” 

As Angela laughed out the word, “Friends?” Leia wanted to sink down in the booth. Angela’s friends all snickered too, eyeing each other. “Oh, yeah. It’s super cool, huh? Come on, friend, let’s skate.” 

Before El could say anything, Angela grabbed her hand and yanked her out of the booth. Leia was just a second behind, grabbing a hold of El’s other hand. 

“Oh, Ang!” Leia said, her tone dripping in fake niceness. “My sister’s super busy here. But maybe-” 

Angela narrowed her eyes, and Leia worried lasers were about to pop out of the blonde’s icy eyes. “I’m sure she can spare one song,” Angela said, mimicking Leia’s tone. 

“Well, not without me!” 

Gritting her teeth, Angela replied, “Totally.” 

Together, the three girls skated over the carpet and toward the rink. A bad feeling swirled around Leia’s gut as she unsteadily hit the slippery rink, wobbling before she caught herself on the wall. Angela was quick to sweep El away, holding her hands as they glided around the rink with the rest of the crowd. 

Leia had learned, very quickly, that skating was not her strongest suit, no matter how many times Will tried to teach her. She was too unsteady on her feet, but she made use of the wall to pull herself toward her sister. 

Angela was much too quick on the skates for Leia. She dragged El out to the middle of the rink just as the music cut out. Over the speaker, a voice said, “All right everyone! This next one is dedicated to Jane, the local snitch!” 

Leia’s stomach dropped clear to her toes as a spotlight was shined on El, confused and alone in the middle of the rink as the disco ball glittered overhead. 

Walking back inside the school after Angela had tripped El and broken her project, El was called down to the office where she met a furious Angela. Someone else had told the office what Angela had done, and El had no choice but to confirm it. Yet, instead of the actual tattletale, El caught the flack for “snitching” on Angela and earning her detention once school resumed. 

Leia knew about bad guys; she had faced plenty of them in her time, but she had never witnessed someone as vicious as a teenage girl who sought revenge. 

A song played loudly over the speakers, fuzzy on Leia’s ears as she watched Angela and her friends surround El. They laughed and spit insults at her, all while El stood there with tears in her eyes and her hands covering her ears. 

Anger overwhelmed Leia. She screamed, “Stop!” as the lights started to spark, and the music sputtered. The bullies all slowed but didn’t stop. A gap was created in the circle they had formed around El, letting one of Angela’s friends through. He held a cup of something and threw the contents of it at El. A chocolate milkshake dripped down El’s dress, staining the fabric. She fell backward in surprise, crashing against the ground in a puddle of milkshake. 

Even louder laughter erupted from all corners of the rink. Leia pushed off the wall with all her might and let her skate carry her right to the circle where Angela stood over El with a smug look on her pale face. Leia barreled right into Angela, sending both of them to the ground beside El. 

“What the hell?!” she yelled. 

Leia scrambled to her knees. “What is wrong with you?” she yelled back at Angela. 

Angela had a look of pure rage in her eyes. “Excuse me? What-” She too had attempted to push herself off the ground but let out an obviously fake yelp of pain before cradling her arm. “Ow! You hurt my arm.” She garnered sympathy from the crowd, but Leia didn’t buy it for one second. 

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. It had been months since Leia had been in a fight and if she were being honest with herself, as much as she enjoyed having a “normal” life, a part of her missed the quick beat of her heart in her chest and the push in her brain to never back down from a fight. Survival instincts were most of what she knew, fighting bad men and monsters didn’t translate smoothly to fighting a teenage girl, but that was all Leia knew. 

She somehow managed to stand up without falling over in her skate and towered over Angela. With hands clenched in fists, the lights in the rink started to flicker in beat with Leia’s heartbeat. A couple of people noticed the lights and watched them with confusion, but most people were too engrossed in what was going to happen between Leia and Angela. 

“I’ll make it hurt a lot worse if you ever mess with my sister again!” Leia threated. Before she could do anything rash, Luke tugged harshly on the back of Leia’s shirt. 

“That’s enough,” he warned, flickering his gaze nervously between her and the lights that were on the verge of raining sparks down upon the crowd. “You have to stop,” he whispered in a rushed breath. 

She stared at her twin in disbelief. “Are you serious? We’re just gonna let her do that-” 

“She already did it!” Luke said. “Don’t make it worse. Focus on El.” 

Leia clenched her jaw so tight it ached and angry tears welled up in her eyes. It wasn’t fair that people, whether they were grown men or teenage bullies, got away with doing bad things. What was the point of having what the party called “superpowers” if Leia couldn’t use them to stop people from doing bad things, from making them pay? 

Both Will and Mike had joined them in the rink and helped El to her feet. She brushed them off before she bolted. Mike moved to chase after her but was stopped by one of Angela’s friends who blocked his path. 

“Look at this, we’ve got the whole freak squad here!” the kid said, melting the tension back into laughter that echoed from all around. 

Still cradling her arm, Angela too was helped to her feet as she glared at the group. “Get lost, freaks!” 

Leia lurched forward again, but Luke was still holding onto the back of her shirt. She gave up with a sharp exhale, glaring daggers at Angela as a chorus of laughter followed them off of the rink. If Luke hadn’t been there, she was sure she would have fried Angela to a crisp and she wouldn’t have been sorry. Leia only wished he’d drop his responsible-ness for one moment. 

“Shit,” Mike hissed, looking around. “El’s gone.” 

“She probably just needs a minute,” said Will. He crossed his arms as he faced Mike. “Do you believe me now?” 

Mike ran a hand through his outgrown hair with a sigh. “Why didn’t she tell me she was having trouble here?” 

Luke rubbed his temples in a way that was reminiscent of how Sunshine often did when she was stressed. Leia wished Sunshine was there now; she’d know exactly what to do and how to fix it. 

“Because, Mike, El didn’t want you to worry about her,” said Luke. 

“I know what this is like, though! I’ve been bullied since kindergarten. El’s seen it! She knows she can talk to me, so why didn’t she?” 

A beat passed as Luke seemed to think carefully about his next words, as he always did. “Did you ever fight back?” 

Both Mike and Will had an odd look on their face. 

“Every time we tried, it only made it worse,” Will said after a moment.

“Well, El’s been fighting back since forever. She used to it working, to winning, but she doesn’t have her abilities anymore. She doesn't know how else to fight back and she doesn’t know how to lose. She pretends like it doesn’t bother her because why should it? We’ve all faced things a lot scarier than Angela.” 

Mike scanned the area for any sign of El, wearing a frown on his lips. “It’s different,” he said quietly. “Bullies and Demogorgons and different.” 

“Not to her. She doesn’t know how to fight either now.” 

El believed she was utterly powerless, and Leia imagined she’d feel the same way if she had been the one to lose her powers. They were a part of them, intertwined in their lives. Even though it was untrue, Leia felt like she needed her powers in the same way she needed her lungs or her heart. El, even without her powers, was still alive and kicking. She had to relearn how to function; Leia knew that couldn’t be easy. 

The crowd carried on like nothing had happened, which only made Leia more upset, but she tried to focus on El. 

“We should split up and look for her. When we find her, let’s call John and get the hell out of here,” she said, and they all agreed. Will and Mike weren’t done with their conversation and split up together while Luke and Leia took to opposite sides of the building to search. 

Leia looked in the girls’ restroom, a backroom with a pool table, and all around the far side of the building but El was nowhere to be seen. They each searched for at least ten minutes until they had looked over the place twice. The only places they hadn’t touched were the rooms labeled “employees only” but before they could search those, a blood-curdling scream erupted throughout Rink-o-Maina. 

Startled, Leia followed the noise and met with Mike, Will, and Luke who all had the same fear. 

They all shoved their way through a crowd that had gathered only to find El in the middle of the crowd, in her chocolate-stained dress with a roller blade clutched white-knuckled in her hand. On the ground in front of her, with a waterfall of blood pouring from a nasty cut between her eyebrows, was Angela. She was sobbing and being weakly consoled by her friends as El stood over her with the bloodied skate. 

“Holy shit,” Mike mumbled. 

El’s shoulders shook before she dropped the skate. It clattered to the ground as Leia sucked in a sharp breath. 

Looking side to side, Leia tried to plan a quick escape, but there were too many people and too many witnesses of a crime that wouldn’t be seen as equal to what brought it on. Because most people didn’t meet bullies with the same tactics as fighting monsters. Most people didn’t know monsters existed at all. All they knew was good and bad, and it was clear at that moment, El was bad in the eyes of everyone who surrounded them. 

→←

A thick layer of fog blanketed Hawkins, leaving an eeriness in the air. Sunshine and the rest of the group clamored out of Steve’s car and onto the property where Calum was sure Eddie Munson was hiding. In just a couple of hours, the entire town was convinced Eddie had murdered the cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, but Dustin and Calum remained certain he couldn’t have done it. 

The house on the property was dark and no cars sat in the driveway. Dustin rang the doorbell one too many times while the rest of them peeked in the windows for any movement. There was no answer, which led to Dustin calling out loudly for Eddie or Rick, the homeowner. 

Sunshine followed Max around the front of the home to the side yard, where they spotted a shed. If Eddie was hiding, the house was too logical of a spot to be found, but the shed wouldn’t be the first place someone checked for someone. They called the group’s attention to the shed and headed towards it. 

The possibility of something once again lurking in Hawkins and the fog created the perfect awful atmosphere. The door to the shed creaked loudly as Steve pushed it open. It was dark and dusty inside, not the ideal place to hang out in. 

Using flashlights from Dustin’s bag and the Family Video supply closet, they searched the shed for any sign of life. There was an abundance of junk lying around, which made a plethora of hiding spots. 

A sudden whacking sound startled Sunshine into spinning around. Steve was in the middle of the shed, holding a boat ore and stabbing it into a row boat filled with tarps and more junk. 

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked. 

“He might be in here.” He stabbed the tarp a bit forcefully. 

Dustin winced, probably at the thought of Eddie being under there. “So take the tarp off!” 

Gesturing to the boat, Steve said, “If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.” 

Dustin ignored Steve by turning his back to him and continued to search while Steve continued to hit the tarps. 

Sunshine trailed her eyes over the dusty ground for some kind of sign that Eddie had been there. 

“Come on, Eddie,” Calum called out. “It’s me, man. If you’re here, we’re just trying to help.” 

There was no response. 

“Someone’s been here,” Max said, pointing her flashlight at a collection of food wrappers and a half-drunk bottle of beer. The food was only picked at and didn’t look like it had been sitting there long. 

“Maybe he heard us and got spooked?” suggested Robin. 

“Well, don’t worry, guys. Steve will get him with his oar,” Dustin said, pricking Steve’s nerves quite obviously. 

With a pointed jab of the oar, Steve glared at Dustin. “I know you think you’re being funny, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the-” 

In what Sunshine could only describe as a horror movie scene, something erupted from the bundled tarps in the boat with a yell. Everyone jumped and yelped in surprise as that something turned out to be someone who launched themselves straight at Steve. 

Before anyone could comprehend what was happening, Steve was slammed up against the shed wall with a thud before Eddie Munson held a broken beer bottle to his throat. Sunshine snapped out of her shock and raced across the room towards Steve. 

Eddie’s hands shook as one pinned Steve’s shoulder and the other held the sharp bottle dangerously close to Steve’s neck. He may have been the person they were looking for, a supposedly innocent boy who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Sunshine cared very little about his innocence at that moment. 

She grabbed a handful of Eddie’s vest, which caught him by surprise, and pulled him back so hard he fell onto the ground. Kali was right behind Sunshine, kicking Eddie’s wrist to force him to let go of the beer bottle before she kicked the makeshift weapon away before he could make a grab for it. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dustin shouted, waving his hands around frantically. “Everybody, stop!” 

Sunshine placed herself in the space between Eddie, who sat wide-eyed and dazed on the floor, and Steve. 

For a moment, it looked like Eddie was going to try to get up, but he was stopped by Calum who crouched down beside him and placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “Hey, dude, just relax.” 

Sunshine had seen plenty of scared people in her life, the look they got on their faces when fear held them tightly wasn’t something easy to forget. Eddie had that look, a trembling chin, eyes blown wide as if they were too scared to blink, and a hollowness to his features as if a shadow had been cast over them. 

“These are my friends,” Dustin said. “They’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to help.” 

It took a moment for Dustin’s words and Calum’s gaze to settle into Eddie. Once they did, he slumped his shoulders in defeat of sorts. The two boys helped him to his feet while Sunshine turned her attention onto Steve who rubbed his throat and breathed heavily. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching up and gently knocking his hand away so she could make sure Eddie didn’t do any damage with his broken beer bottle. 

Steve let go of the oar he’d been holding, letting it clatter against the ground. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, intertwining his fingers with her in reassurance for both of them. “You looked ready to kick his ass.” Steve’s tone was teasing, and Sunshine tried not to think about her almost violent outburst at Calum a day prior. 

With a shrug, she replied, “I didn’t want to freak him out even more by with my…you know.” Still, she probably could have handled that better than pushing Eddie to the ground, but he was holding a jagged glass to Steve’s throat. 

A smile graced Steve’s lips. “Very considerate,” he teased. She felt some tension roll off her shoulders, but there was still a knot in her gut that was too stubborn to unravel. 

Eddie had taken a seat against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, making him look small. For someone who loudly walked around school with his large, sliver rings, rock and roll hairstyle, and carefree attitude, it was odd to see him look hollow. It was reminiscent of how Calum looked after he had spotted the Mind Flayer in the woods or when Max first spotted the Demogorgon in the junkyard. It was an unnatural fear that one’s mind had a hard time making sense of. 

Calum and Dustin kneeled in front of Eddie, while Robin hovered over them, nervously fiddling with her flashlight. “We just want to know what happened,” she said. 

“You don’t believe me,” Eddie sniffled. 

“Try us,” said Max, her arms crossed over her chest. 

Something on Eddie’s face shifted as he glanced around the shed at all of them. There was nothing but sincerity on their faces, a mutual understanding of the horrors that had taken place in Hawkins. Whether they had seen the inside of Hawkins Lab, full-sized baby Demogorgons, or Starcourt Mall, each of them had an understanding of what Eddie was experiencing if the cause of Chrissy’s death was related to the Upside Down. 

“Chrissy, h-her body just, like, lifted into the air and she hung there. Her bones…” Eddie’s voice cracked as he spoke, and a chill seemingly ran through his body as he shivered at the memories. “Her bones started to snap.” Sunshine’s body reacted similarly, a chill racing down her arms. 

“Her eyes, man. It was like there was something inside her head pulling,” Eddie continued, avoiding the heavy gaze of everyone surrounding him. “I…I didn’t know what to do so I ran away. I left her there.” He paused, hanging his head in shame. “You guys think I’m crazy, right?” 

“No,” Dustin said. “We don’t.” 

“Don’t bullshit me, man!” Eddie yelled, burying his head in his hands. “I know how this sounds.” 

“We’re not bullshitting you,” Max said. 

Robin then added, “We believe you.” 

A sigh fell from Dustin’s lips as he glanced over his shoulder and met Sunshine’s eye. He was no longer a little kid anymore, but Sunshine still saw him as such as he silently asked her if it was okay for him to delve into the real story of Hawkins. It caused a dull ache in her chest, the idea of all of the growing up so quickly and still being forced to deal with the same bullshit over and over again. 

With a nod, she gave him the go-ahead, even though it wasn’t her story to tell alone anymore. 

“Look,” Dustin began. “What I’m about to tell you might be a little difficult to take.” Eddie looked up, his brows furrowed. “You know how people say Hawkins is cursed? Well, they’re not…that far off. There’s another world, one hidden beneath Hawkins, and sometimes it bleeds into ours.” 

Eddie looked confused, rightfully so. “Like ghosts and shit?” 

“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max said, a dark and hollow tone in her voice that only caused the chill in Sunshine’s bones to worsen. She shuttered, letting out a bated breath. 

“This other word is home to monsters, monsters that we thought were gone. But they’ve come back before. That’s why we needed to find you,” said Dustin. 

Clearing her throat, Sunshine tried to rid herself of the dread creeping through her body before she spoke. “If they’re back, we need to know.” 

“That night, did you see anything? Dark particles, maybe? Something that looked like swirling dust,” asked Max, but Eddie shook his head and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. 

“No, man. There was nothing you could see or touch.” His expression turned even more grim, which Sunshine didn’t think was possible. “I tried to wake her up, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was in a trance or something.” 

Dustin gasped, the noise he always made when a realization fell over him. “Or she was under a spell.” 

There was a pause as Eddie studied the kid’s face. Much like how Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will often looked at one another when they were working through an issue together, Dustin and Eddie shared a similar stare, as if they could read each other’s minds. 

“Or under a curse,” Eddie said. 

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Vecna’s curse.” 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, probably feeling the same way most of them did when the kids brought up D&D. Their comparison of the monsters from the Upside Down to their game was helpful but confusing. 

“Who’s Vecna?” he asked. 

Dustin took his eyes off Eddie and stared at the group with a familiar twinkle of fear in his eyes. “An undead creature of great power.” 

“They're spell casters,” added Calum, who also seemed to be in the know of Dustin and Eddie’s D&D talk. 

Eddie swallowed thickly before he whispered, “A dark wizard.” 

The office in the Torres house had been turned into a guest bedroom since Sunshine had returned home and adopted a gaggle of kids and friends who were always hanging around. Her parents had no issue with converting the space; they enjoyed the change of their once somber and quiet home. 

Sunshine lingered in the doorway of the office, watching as Kali unlaced her combat boots. “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” she asked for what had to be the fourth or fifth time. 

Kali hadn’t said much since they returned to Hawkins, which Sunshine couldn’t blame her for. Not only did she drag Kali into a townwide witch hunt for the murderer of Chrissy Cunningham, but also for the reemergence of a creature from the Upside Down. 

In all honesty, Sunshine was surprised Kali was still there.

“I’m sure,” Kali replied, setting her boots side by side on the floor with a certain care. 

Sunshine hesitated, knowing that she needed to leave Kali alone to sleep, but she couldn’t stop the guilt that bubbled up in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. Kali glanced up, face stoic. “Again, for bringing you into this. I didn’t know any of this would be waiting for us when we got back. I wanted to show you the good parts of Hawkins. But, as you’ve seen, there are still bad parts too.” 

With her bare feet pulled up onto the bed and her face washed of dark makeup, Kali looked a lot younger, softer, which was probably the reason she wore the makeup in the first place. 

“When Jane found me in Chicago, she spoke a little about the Upside Down and the monsters. I’d been curious, I’ll admit,” Kali said. “I’d get close to here, stop a town or two over, and read the paper. They never said anything about another world, obviously, but after what Jane told me, I assumed…” she trailed off for a moment, glancing at her folded hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I want to understand it. It’s their fault, the Lab’s, and they should have to deal with it and the consequences. But they won’t.” 

A sad smile fell across Sunshine’s face. “People like them, bad people, they rarely ever get what they deserve. I know this town, as Dustin said, is cursed. But-” 

Kali cut her off. “But there are still people here you care for. I don’t understand why you or your friends feel like it's your job to protect these people when I doubt they’d do the same for you, but for whatever reason you do.” 

It was hard to say if the people of Hawkins, having been in the group’s shoes, would have tried to save the town as many times as they had. Maybe not, but that was why it was their group that had stumbled upon the truth. It all happened to them by chance, but it had become their mess to clean up because there was no one else to. 

“I’m not asking you to stay and help.” 

Kali laughed dryly. “Yeah, well a ‘dark wizard’ sounds pretty intense. You don’t have Jane or the twins here either. I imagine you’d do most of the heavy lifting, right?” 

She shrugged. “You’d be surprised; they’re all pretty good at monster hunting, even the kids. But if I can do most of the fighting, I try.” Because it felt like her responsibility. 

Something flickered across Kali’s face, something like recognition. “You sound like her, like Ivy.” 

Sadness panged inside Sunshine’s chest. The twins and El didn’t remember much about Ivy, but Kali was older and had known her a little longer than they had. 

“She’s always in my head,” Sunshine admitted. 

“Yeah, that’s what she was best at.” Kali cleared the subtle prick of emotion in her voice by clearing her throat. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m already here. I may as well try to help you all go after this…this wizard murderer or whatever.” 

Sunshine couldn’t help but smile softly as she nodded. “Then we better get some sleep.” 

The two girls bid each other goodnight before Sunshine retreated to her bedroom, her whole body heavy with tiredness but her mind was racing. 

Steve had already made himself comfortable on her bed, absentmindedly gazing at the stars on her ceiling. Instead of joining him, she beelined for her bookshelf where she kept her journals. They were full of stories and memories from the Lab, some of which she had written happy endings for the children lost. The memories were what she was looking for, things that had occurred that she had once blocked out but that had started to rush back to her. Since she had been recalling more and more, she began jotting down everything so she wouldn’t forget it again- even if she wanted it. It felt important to remember, no matter how awful the memories were. 

As she skimmed through the pages, she wondered if she could find anything relating to the “dark wizard” that may have its claws sunk into Hawkins. A Gate to the Upside Down was opened at the Lab the night she and El had escaped, but that didn’t mean the other world hadn’t bled into Hawkins before. Maybe there was another instance, something she could recall somewhere in her writing. 

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked, trying to stifle a yawn. 

“I’m trying to see if something like this has happened before.” Steve stood up, dressed in his PJs, and made his way over to her. 

“You know, this can wait until the morning,” he said gently, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist and pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder. 

Sunshine didn’t shrug him off, but she didn’t stop her pursuit. “When Eddie was talking about what happened to Chrissy, I got this weird feeling. I don’t what it meant, but what if this wasn’t the first time something like that had happened?” Worry seeped into her tone, drenching the air. 

“You don’t think you’d remember watching someone’s bones break?” 

She shuttered and he muttered a quick sorry. “You’d think,” she sighed. What Eddie described was graphic and awful, but Sunshine had witnessed a lot of awful things at the Lab. “I don’t know; I didn’t remember a lot of things that had happened until recently. I don’t know how something like that could have happened back then, but we know that the Upside Down doesn’t play by a rulebook. Who knows how many times Hawkins has been exposed to the Upside Down without anyone really realizing it.” 

Her skimming through the pages became more frantic as she tried to soothe the growing itch in her brain, but her eyes were hardly focusing on the words. Steve must’ve sensed her frustration. He unwound one arm from her waist and plucked the journal from her hands. She protested, trying to grab it back but he held it out of reach. 

“I promise, we’ll look more into it tomorrow. We will figure this out, but we gotta get some sleep first, okay?” 

“Something is out there-” 

“I know,” Steve said quickly. He placed the journal back on the shelf before running his hands down the length of her arms. “But you know how this goes. We’ll regroup tomorrow and figure out all that we can about this Venca thing.” 

Sunshine closed her eyes with a sigh, knowing he was right. “I don’t want anything bad to happen. Or anything worse than what’s already happened.” 

Steve pressed a kiss to her forehead and she melted into his chest, letting a blanket of comfort wash over her. “We won’t let it.” They stayed like that for a moment, before Sunshine was ready to give up her research for the night. “You never did tell me how your trip went,” he said. “Kali seems cool; scary, but cool. But I don’t really understand how or why Calum’s here.” 

Something between a sigh and a groan fell from Sunshine’s lips. She broke apart from Steve and sat on the edge of her bed with the ghost of two men’s blood on her hands. “It was a disaster.” 

Steve furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“I was only gone for a day and I’m pretty sure I’m never allowed back in Indy ever again.” 

“It couldn’t have been that bad-” 

“Two people were murdered,” Sunshine cut him off, burying her head in her hands. 

There was a beat of silence before Steve cleared his throat and lowered himself onto the bed beside her. “Okay, well, that’s not…great. What happened?” 

She wanted to cry again, hot and shameful tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t know.” She explained Kali’s revenge plan and how they had spoken to two men from the Lab who were connected to Dr. Brenner and Calum’s father. Only their visits ended in the men's deaths from hands unknown. 

Wiping a few tears that had escaped, Sunshine shook her head solemnly. “Sometimes I don’t feel like it’s just Hawkins that’s cursed; I think I am too,” she said. “I know they weren’t good men, but did they deserve to die like that?” 

Steve brushed his thumb across her cheek, clearing the stray tears she missed with a frown on his lips. “Honestly? I don’t know, Sunshine. But I don’t think you’re cursed.” Sunshine wanted to refute him, list out every bad thing that she had been too close to, but he spoke before she could. “I think you had something awful happen to you, and as much as I wish it could all just go away and we could forget about all of it, we’re not there yet. All of these bad things that have happened weren’t because of you, though.” 

She felt like it was though. She felt connected to everything, bleeding unluckiness into everyone’s lives who she’s touched. Sunshine liked being a problem solver; she liked to fix things, but she had not yet figured out how to fix herself. 

“Hey, I know that look,” Steve said cupping her jaw with both hands, carefully forcing her attention onto him. “Get out of your head, Sunshine.” 

That was much easier said than done. Lately, it had felt like her mind was holding her hostage. She reached for her necklace, something that always helped bring her back to reality alongside Steve, but her fingers once again met her bare collarbones. Another wave of sadness crashed over her. 

“Oh,” she sniffled. “I lost it,” she muttered miserably. 

“Lost what?” 

“My necklace. I lost it in Indy.” 

Steve glanced down at the space where her necklace had lied since he and Nancy had gifted it to her on her very first Christmas back in Hawkins. 

Before he could say anything, Sunshine rushed out, “I’m sorry,” feeling awful. “You and Nancy gave me a gift and I…I don’t even know how it came off. I should have gone back and looked but…” A hiccup broke up her sentence. 

“I’ll get you another one,” he said simply. “You don’t need to apologize, you were a little busy.” 

Sunshine tilted her head to the side, her stomach turning uneasily in the same fashion it had been since the day prior. “You’re not mad?” 

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and smiled lightly. “Of course not.” She let out a small breath, not understanding what did to deserve him. 

“But I am tired,” he said, yawning again. Together, they crawled under the covers of Sunshine’s bed with her head on his chest and his arm tossed loosely over her waist. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat until sleep pull her under tossed her into a storm of dreams.

[takeariskao3]

someone new

written for @hinnyfest prompt 4: harpies locker room *content warning* mentions of casual alcohol consumption a day late for reasons we don't need to get into right now

Collapsing onto a sofa, Ginny watched as the rest of her teammates slowly trickled into the players' lounge. Early morning meetings were always a bit subdued, but the first Saturday back after holiday break was an entirely different type of sleepy silence. 

Val plopped down next to her, her head falling back to rest against the cushion. "That was some party."

Snorting, Ginny couldn't help the grin that stretched across her face. Val had been a sight to behold. Ginny couldn't remember the last time she'd seen someone drink Charlie under the table.

"It's been two weeks?" Ginny asserted. "You still haven't recovered?"

Eyes fluttering shut, Val shook her head with a soft moan.

Ginny chuckled under her breath. "You know they make potions for that sort of thing?"

"This is just age," Val sighed. "No potion can cure that I'm afraid."

"Alright, you lot," Gwenog called in her most commanding captain's voice. "Hope you had a Happy Christmas and all that."

As Gwenog took off, detailing out the upcoming months of pre-season practice, Ginny let the familiarity of it all seep into her bones. A deep attachment to this building, and to these women, rippled out from her middle. The camaraderie that she'd found within these walls, the solidarity, the friendship, hit her with such force that she could only describe the feeling as a profound belonging.

This was her place. These were her people.

And they always would be.

Ginny could usually curb her more sentimental tendencies, but recent events had her living in such a golden glow of joy, she couldn't seem to find a way to come back down to earth. Oblivious to the warmth of fondness now taking Ginny over, Gwenog continued on, speaking about schedule changes for opening weekend and the training schedule for every which week in between, and it was all just so damn exciting. The prospect of a new season, a fresh start, a new year. Coupled with the last few weeks, Ginny found herself blissfully optimistic. So much so, she had to bite back the smile threatening the corners of her mouth.

She was fairly certain Gwenog caught the expression, because she shot Ginny a sharp glance when she paused to check her notes.

"And lastly," Gwenog smirked, eyes roving over the squad all gathered around the room. "We have someone new joining us for the season."

Ginny blinked, and noticed several others all looking at Gwenog in equal states of confusion. 

"It's a lot of pressure," she continued, a wicked glint in her eye. "Replacing such a an integral member of the team."

A few looked around, most of the gazes landing on Val. Ginny did as well, wondering if this was the retirement announcement they'd all been dreading.

"But I'm confident she's got what it takes," Gwenog paused, no doubt for dramatic effect, then her face broke out into a wide grin. "Everyone welcome to the squad, Ginny Potter!"

After a beat of silence, the room erupted into laughter and wolf-whistles. 

"Ha Ha," Ginny called back sardonically.

"We were all there, Gwenog."

"Some of us more than others."

"I heard that Ellis-"

"How was the honeymoon, Weasley?"

"Or do we have to call you Potter now?"

"Yes," Ginny laughed. "You do."

The commotion died down gradually, the merciless ribbing turning from Ginny to Val and her drunken dancing. As her teammates relived the more hilarious moments from their reception, Ginny lost herself in the memories of the day. The thin layer of fresh snow, the candlelit tent, Harry's grin as he waited for her at the end of the aisle. 

Standing in front of her locker, she pulled on her practice kit, her new name stitched across the back in bold, yellow letters. She was fairly certain the shimmery incandescence of her new life couldn't last forever, but at the moment, it definitely felt like it could last a lifetime. 

[klvee]

Jearmin Fics List!

Here are some of my favorite jearmin fics of all time!

Canonverse:

1) Thought-Provoking by cherrybubblegum

Jean makes an unlikely companion after the disaster in Trost. A look at how the implied friendship between Jean and Armin may have developed, with a romantic twist. (72k words)

the characterization of the Armin and Jean is so spot on, and I could imagine all these events occurring in the story on the pages we don’t see, i love the slowburn and watching their relationship develop from a more centralized point of view though still keeping the main events and canon storyline

2) A Life Within Walls by GoodGuyJean

Armin Arlert grew up a "heretic" in Shiganshina; always questioning the status questioning the status quo and adept at keeping secrets. Determined to see the world outside the Walls and prepared to make terrible sacrifices to do so, Armin stumbles when he falls in love with another soldier, the uncomfortably honest Jean Kirstein. As Armin and Jean continue to fight side by side in a war long before their time, Armin struggles to open up, fearful of his own feelings and their consequences. (37k words)

this fic literally made me cry! warning: lots of angst. it’s beautifully written and Armin and Jeans dynamic is so authentic. I also love me some time jump (s4) jearmin, and the possibility of what occurred during that long period of time and if you’re going to read any of the fics from this list, this should definitely be one of them!

3) Unspoken by armint

Pre-season 4 in Marley. Mikasa is asked to a dance club/party, the rest of the gang decide to go and Armin and Jean are decided as partners. (4.6k words)

ive reread this fic like 6 times already it’s just so dang cute! jean and armin have to learn how to ballroom dance together in Marley after everyone else has been partnered up. literally was smiling and squealing all the way through this read!!

4) Bottle It Up: Or, Of Ice Cream and Wine by GoodGuyJean

It's the first Paradisan Eldian expedition back to the mainland and things are . . . weird, between the young members of Squad Levi. Much to Jean's confusion, his ex-lover Armin, who has been giving him the cold shoulder for years after ending their brief but intense relationship, begins flirting with him once they set foot in Marley. Or is that Jean's desperate imagination? Drunkenly confronting Armin at a party (started by the perpetually broody Eren, of all people), Jean may get more than he bargained for. (5.5k words)

this fic is an addition to A Life Within Walls where it gives more insight to their relationship and the events prior to the main fic. you absolutely have to read this one if you’ve read a life within walls, it’s heartbreakingly beautiful!

5) A Bright Nowhere by corbaccio

Jean was silent for a moment, and then spoke with obvious awe: “Wow. I can’t remember the last time I saw so many stars.” Armin felt something warm settle in his chest. He knew, of course—he’d been watching this same sky for long enough—but still he lifted his gaze upwards, the glory of it filling him, charging him. (3.6k words)

i can’t talk enough about this fic! jearmin stargazing one last time before the world falls apart. the dialogue between them feels so incredibly natural and the writing itself is gorgeous. this fic holds a big place in my heart!

6) Red Sky by corbaccio

Jean’s stare did not waver. Armin wondered what he saw, when he looked at him; if it was anything at all like what he saw looking at Jean. He let that thought fill him with sad hope. (3.2k words)

another incredible fic with beautiful dialogue! this author grasps their dynamic so well, so I just have to add more of their work on this list.

7) Golden by TheIndifferentVoid

The mission leaves Armin changed forever. In the immediate aftermath, Jean has to deal with how it changed him, too.

really lovely fic about jean coming to terms with his feelings for armin after he thought that armin had died. this is canon to me.

8) Four Years by wordsforjearmin

Young Commander Armin Arlert has only four years left in his term as the Colossal titan, and in turn, only four years left of his life. Jean Kirstein, skilled Squad Leader and Armin's partner, is grappling with the knowledge that he'll be losing him so soon. Haunted by their shrinking amount of time together and his love for Armin that only seems to grow stronger, Jean tries to hide how hurt he is at the expense of Armin's own guilt. (13k words)

i haven’t read this fic in a while, but i definitely remember it pulling on my heart strings! it takes place after the story of attack on titan ends, and how jean and armin would deal with their relationship if the curse of ymir had not been broken.

Updating to add a few more!! (3/8/22)

9) Paint Tomorrow Blue by batwake

Usually patient, Armin feels himself getting somewhat annoyed. Eren’s disappearance has already unsettled him, putting him on uneven footing. Jean’s inability to find words makes him feel worse; it’s unlike the other scout to speak without being sure of what he is about to say. It makes something within Armin crackle, like a titan just as it forms. As if sensing his irritation— perhaps something in the air had changed— Jean finally manages, “Are you okay, Armin?” Or, they lose Eren in Marley, but Jean and Armin find each other. (42k words)

Genuinely a masterpiece. the characterization, tension, tenderness, everything about this fic was incredible. i also take this as canon.

10) The Way We Were by wordsforjearmin

“I don’t think you’re allowed to get jealous if we’re not together.” Armin’s hand slid down and twisted in the fabric at the hem of Jean’s shirt. Their faces were so close now that their noses were practically knocking together. “Doesn’t seem very fair.” Jean swallowed, his heart rate thumping and his blood running hot. “Yea,” he muttered, eyes darting back and forth to take in whatever it was lurking behind Armin’s. “And remind me why we’re not together again?” (3.8k)

HOOOOLY. this fic. the sexual tension and pining is god tier. i love the angst and how versatile their dynamic and relationship can be presented!

Other canonverse must reads!

the truth about the flower boys by sodas

camaraderie by sodas

The Human Dress by Flesner

Auguries of Innocence by Flesner

teeth in the grass by billionairevolleyballboysclub

The Sun Hasn’t Risen Yet by vidnyia

For The Hearts That Break Under The Weeping Willow by cunttwatula

Regret by GoodGuyJean

A Page in the Wrong Direction by Aespren

Gone Adrift by Aespren

firsts by armint

atlas by slippages

To Be Human by firegrilled

Letters and Lovers by wordsforjearmin

i have a bias toward canonverse fics and am very picky when it comes to reading au fics, but here are my favorites!

Alternate Universe:

1) It Might as Well Be Spring by vidnyia

When moving across the country to the house he inherited from his deceased grandfather, Armin expects to find the same old boring grey he grew up surrounded by. Before long, he meets Jean Kirstein, the leader of the jazz band that used to rehearse in his grandfather's cellar - and suddenly, there's colour in his life. [70s AU] (100k words)

i absolutely adore this fic! it’s a slowburn and definitely worth the build up. I love the complexity that the author adds to both Armin and Jean, as well as the other cast of characters. the storyline is well thought out, and definitely had me hooked with all the twists and turns. the way the author describes music and art feels like they are speaking from their soul. just amazing

2) Feeling This by cunttwatula

Sleepless nights and city lights bring together two broken boys in a suburban park. It's only when they're together that they realize how desperately they've needed one another. (67k words)

by far one of the most incredible pieces of fan fic I’ve ever read. the writing is superb and the story itself is so well done. this could honestly be something of a published piece of work or a short novel. the plot is so intricate and delicate, and I could not stop reading it. be warned, there are mentions/actions of sexual assault, trauma, death, teen pregnancy, etc.

3) Capture by vidnyia

Jearmin 1960s AU. When Armin Arlert moves from Seattle to a tiny seaside town in France to pursue his dream of writing, he is given the task of caring for his dying grandfather. He soon meets Jean Kirstein, an aspiring photographer who works as a milkman for the local farm. Jean promises to teach Armin French, and as the summer progresses, they realise they might be more than just friends. (34k words)

ahh the first jearmin au fic i ever read! everything about this fic is adorable. I love the setting in France and just the vibes of it all. the progression of their relationship is just so tender and thoughtful. give this one a read!

4) A Light in the Fog by VioletteMoon

Armin is beside himself grieving over his hospitalized grandfather. With the distraction of sadness, he doesn't anticipate the chance encounter with Jean Kirschstein -- the genetically-blessed football player at his school with a face seemingly made for cocky grins. Armin also doesn't anticipate the flurry of emotions that follow their subsequent meetings. (19k words)

i can’t talk enough about this fic omg. jean is whipped and armin’s basically oblivious to it because he’s perceived as the quiet new kid by almost everyone else and doesn’t understand why jean wants to get to know him. their interactions are so cute, and the writing and setting feels very cozy.

5) My Boyfriend’s Boyfriend by Endymien, lucabee

"Need a date for Christmas? Want to make your dad mad?" Eren Jaeger wants to piss off his parents so he does what any perfectly sane individual would do and finds a fake boyfriend on Craigslist to bring him home for Christmas.Jean Kirstein quickly realizes that agreeing to fake date Eren Jaeger may have been the craziest decision he ever made.Armin Arlert just wants this whole ridiculous fake boyfriend ordeal to be over--only partially because he finds himself increasingly enamored of Eren's "boyfriend." (62.5k words)

this fic had me laughing out loud so many times, the humor is immaculate. honesty, if you’re looking for a more lighthearted fic that’s could fall under the category of a romcom, this one is perfect for you. the dialogue between eren and jean when trying to act even the tiniest bit couple-like always has me on the floor. the relationship between Jean and Armin feels more secondary to the main plot, but either way this is just an amazing read.

6) In Corpo by Violetta Jones

Jean is sometimes awkwardly embarrassing, and Armin feels embarrassingly awkward most of the time. Working together on a school project might just serve to show that they're not too bad of a match for each other. (7.5k words)

another really cute academia-based fic!

7) Never Have I Ever by orphan_account

An awkward party game outs Armin as a virgin. Jean decides to change that. (3.8k words)

smut. very well written smut. I love it.

8) Arms Unfolding by vidnyia

Jean and Armin were best friends growing up, talking of nothing but escaping their small town and exploring the world together. Four years have passed since Armin left for college, and he is finally coming home for reasons he doesn't really understand. Jean made plans to leave long ago, but life got in the way. [80s AU] (90k words)

another incredible fic that made me depressed after finishing it. i love how this fic incorporates not just the one storyline focusing on jean and armin’s relationship, but multiple storylines featuring other characters like Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie which intertwine. be warned of mentions/actions of sexual assault and trauma.

[mr-nauseam]

Watson Top 5

So I talked about making a top 5 of the best Watsons in my opinion (and clearly my favorites) a few days ago. I barely do it today because again my horrible class attacked and honestly doing this is more fun, so let's get started.

WARNING: A LOT OF TEXT BC I DONT KNOW HOW TO SHUP UP

Special mentions:

THE ONLY REASON WHY LUCY LIU AS JOAN WATSON IS NOT IN THE TOP 1 dominating everyone is because I still don't see elementary. Yes, is embarrassing, but I googled it and 7 seasons looks scary and heavy (I'm bad at seeing very long things, like my god if you only knew how long it took to see jojos or merlin) but soon I will see it and you mates will have to put up with my fangirl screams because it is written in the stars that I am going to fall in love with Joan. Another special mention goes to Jane Watson from My Dear Beloved Detective and god is INCREDIBLE, I LOVE HER, honestly what doesn't have this girl? undoubtedly one of the best Watsons who have touched this earth.

Have you noticed that the mentions are only the Watsons genderbender? It is because I would like to dedicate an exclusive post to them. It is curious (from what I have seen) how it seems that the creators can more easily balance the personality of the character when is a woman (the matter of the masculinity in Watson can be a thesis) but before saying more, I have to see all the adaptations where the female versions appear.

From here there is no one so relevant, I like Watson from Without a Clue bc is a comedy that makes me laugh a lot jsjsjs, I like Dwason, the Watson of Frowares dont look so bad and there are also others but nothing special, so now we go with the top wuuu.

5. Sherlock.

If I declared that this post was influenced by my personal taste, it was especially because of this. I was a great fan of the bbc series, now that I grew up I became familiar with concepts like queerbaiting, ableism, etc. The relationship I have with the series now is complicated, but even so I think that the interpretation of Freeman (let's ignore the existence of season 4 and still, he did quite well with what they gave to him) has some merits. Humor, moments of crisis, expressions, loyalty, dedication, etc. He's a screwed up Watson but interesting in his own way. (And if you like that kind of angst- bad things that give you a chance to fix it, this is ideal for that).

4. Ritchiverse.

Speaking of somewhat unstable boys, I must say that I feel this is one of the Watsons who knew better how to translate what we saw in the books about his character and to exploit certain sometimes ignored traits (Watson's impulsiveness and recklessness); On screen you understand without much trouble that Watson has a military past, that he has physical injuries that still affect his day to day, but that he does not feel incapable of getting into crazy adventures nor is he going to allow the people to treat him in that way, which is a doctor and a good one, his romance with Mary is one of the best, etc. They really paid attention to doing this boy, in addition to the small but great detail that Law is basically a drawing of Sidney brought to life (and my God he has a lot of Doyle too, which only gives him extra points).

3. Granada (the serie, not the fruit).

Yesterday I received divine illumination; us we know it (the change of actors) but in the universe of Granada that never happened, they are a single Watson and I love that idea! So the two David and Edward, what can I say that has not already been said? They are the perfect reflection of Watson's character in two very different stages of his life (pre and post Reichenbach), they have the charisma, the sassy side -sarcastic, compassion, loyalty, courage and determination, calm and wisdom and yyyy, oh, I love them a lot and basically they raised the status of doctor uwu a lot but they are in third place.

2. The adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson (better known as soviet or russia holmes eh)

One of the few adaptations where there are hugs, tears, affectionate cuddles, etc. Solomin has one of the most entertaining interpretations of the character, there is no scene that I saw, where I would not think "yes, here is an incredible Watson," this Watson is great with his episode full of suspicions towards Holmes, his expression when he discovers that the detective is not interested in knowing If we revolve around the sun. It achieve what for me is the best adaptation of HOUND and that says a lot about this Watson bc HOUND is the BOOK OF THE DOCTOR. You have a smart boy in his way, with his own strengths and weaknesses and he feels human, believable and adorable. They allowed him to have a complete heart and that is why he is the best of the best and he would be if only the position 1 does not exist.

1. Sherlock Holmes 2013. (THIS IS NOT CALLED NEW RUSSIAN HOLMES?)

If you are a fan of Watson, he is here, in this serie, the military guy, the doctor, the healer, the amazing human be, the writer, he is the dream version that was executed to perfection. The greatest success? fuck the canon, and even then, I don't think there is another Watson that feels so real as ironic as it may sound. They really worked hard to give a coherence, a sense and a total meaning to Watson's actions, they explore well the reasons of all those failures and the development that the character has is wuah, I really don't know what word use that encompass everything, maybe satisfactory? Because everything feels good here with Andrei Panin and even so it feels like something else is missing in my description maybe you have to see it to understand it.