#hopefully this ties y'all over for two days

[jonathanbyersphd]

🐸 WIP 🐸 Wednesday 🐸

Nancy can’t sleep. She's been tossing and turning ever since she called the Byers and Will said Jonathan was in the shower. Because Jonathan doesn't take showers at night, he doesn't like going to bed with his hair wet so he takes them in the morning before school. Admittedly, it's weird that she knows his bathing habits but she's his girlfriend damnit she's supposed to know the weird things he won't tell anyone else. Like how I Will Always Love You makes him sob, or how he’s a fan of Thumper, or how he’ll eat strawberries even though they make his tongue itch. 

She also knows when he’s lying. He's really not too good at it. He has such an excessively nervous disposition. When she’s in on the lie, they can play off each other and it’s much more convincing. Or at least convincing enough to trick the government, her parents and his mom. But, when Jonathan has to carry then lie he gets all fidgety and mumbly and weird. Well, weirder than normal. It's almost painful to watch.

Nancy knows it has to do with the fucking frogs. Jonathan loves animals; she knows that. It’s one of the things she loves about him. But she really didn't think that extended to frogs. Truth be told, that's probably bias on her part. She really, really doesn't like frogs. Once, ages ago, Mike decided it'd be so funny to drop one down the back of her swimsuit. Nancy spent what was probably only two minutes but felt like an eternity shrieking and running around the Hawkins pool trying to get it out. Worst of all, Mike did it in front of Jonathan and Will. It was mortifying and slimy. Then, he spent the next month making frog noises just to freak her out. 

Even thinking about it now gives her chills. Nancy sighs and pulls the covers over her head,  she really doesn’t want to eviscerate a frog anymore than he does. But she's honestly not sure what to do. This particular predicament wasn't exactly covered in Seventeen magazine. She doubts that any other girl in the country has the same problem. Dear Abby, my sweetheart is a very sensitive and caring soul who can’t possibly be expected to dissect any animal really, but I have a phobia of frogs and if we fail the midterm I won’t get into my dream college. What should I do? 

She groans at her ridiculous faux ask. Nancy’s not sure she’s ever wanted anything as badly as Emerson. Except for Jonathan of course. Which is exactly how she ended up with this conundrum. If Jonathan dumps her she’s suing Mr. Mahoney and Hawkins High for having such a barbaric exam.

Initially, she thought her solution was perfect. It absolved him of any wrongdoing. But then he dodged her call. In the four months they’ve been together, he’s never avoided her goodnight call. She tried to ignore it. Let sleeping dogs lie, if he wants to wreck their spring break with his moral dilemma then that’s fine. Except, everytime she closes her eyes all she can see is Jonathan on the verge of tears as she plunges a scalpel into a frog. 

[juletheghoul]

Bravo, Dieter.

Authors note: I'm just as surprised to be here as you are. We're starting the year off with a bang, writing for a character I've only ever done half a drabble of lol, hopefully you enjoy what I came up with. As always, thank you @wheresarizona for beta-ing and letting me exorcise my demons through you. Shoutout to @frannyzooey for her unending support, and to my literal wife @foli-vora for screaming reassurances at me (affectionately) Love y'all!

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: a sprinkle of angst (Dieter is a dummy- no specifics, I left whatever dumb comment he said up to your interpretation), 18+ no minors, piv sex, dirty talk, feelings? let me know if I missed any!

Masterlist

-----

There were twelve of them, twelve absolutely perfect roses wrapped up in expensive-looking brown paper, and they made you sigh. There was only one person who could have sent them. 

Goddamn it, Dieter.

There was a card tucked between the blood-red blooms, three little words.

“Text me back.♥️”

Your blood boiled, fizzled, and cracked under the strength of your annoyance, and without giving it much thought, you marched right over to the garbage can and shoved everything in, vowing silently to put it out of your mind. 

Three days passed before the second, bigger bouquet arrived at your door—more roses, bigger and somehow more lush than the first bouquet. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Please talk to me. ♥️♥️♥️”

They went into the trash with a roll of your eyes, ignoring the slight flicker of guilt at the waste of such beautiful flowers. Still, the memory of his words came back into the forefront of your mind, compounding the sentiment that they had no place amongst your things. 

Two days later, another gorgeous arrangement sat on your kitchen counter, this time an array of different colours and textures; a work of art. 

��Nothing in this world feels like you. Let’s kiss.♥️”

Your eyes close, and you can feel him, feel the way his mouth moved against yours, how he’d kiss you until you dripped for him. How sweetly his tongue moved against yours, against your nipple, between your legs. The flowers were on the receiving end of the daggers in your eyes for him, but they stayed on the counter. 

The fourth bouquet was the epitome of excess. 

It was massive, almost too heavy, and it was only with sheer determination that you managed to heave it onto the counter. A storm of white blooms contained within a surprisingly tasteful black vessel. Orchids, roses–peonies that were almost fluffy, a baby’s breath halo. 

“I miss how wet your pussy gets for me.♥️” 

A gasp. A widening of your eyes and more memories of the times he pulled you apart in your bedroom, in his. 

Your fingers fly across the keys on your phone. 

[you] Dieter, enough. 

[D] I knew that last note would get you.

[you] Stop sending me fucking flowers.

[D] Forgive me. I miss you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.

You chewed on your lip, anger burning white hot in your gut that he managed to get you speaking to him once again. It was in you to turn off your phone and head out, grab a drink with some friends, or indulge in some retail therapy, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Truth was, you missed him too, missed whatever arrangement you’d both somehow found yourselves in after one too many flirty comments, one too many lonely nights. 

[you] it seemed like you did. You really hurt my feelings, and I don’t want to deal with it if that’s how it’s going to be. 

You stared at your phone, wondering whether you truly preferred cutting all ties. 

[D] I know, I really am sorry–let me come over. We can talk about it, and I can apologize in person. 

You hesitated, knowing full well what would happen if you let him in. 

[you] just to talk…? 

[D] Yes, just to talk…be there in 20 mins?

[you] Fine. 

[D] see you soon xo

You rushed to your bathroom, ignoring the excitement and arousal burning in your belly as you jumped into the shower. 

All too soon, there’s a knock at the door, and it’s almost irritating how fast you move to answer it.

“Hi, babe.” He’s leaning against the doorframe with a cheeky little smile, and you long to smack it off his face; he must see it because the smile vanishes and is replaced with a boyish frown. 

A cat caught with the canary. 

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, Dieter.” You move to let him in, and the smell of his body wash makes you salivate.

You ignore it.

“Look, I know it was a stupid thing to say. I don’t even know why I said it. I didn’t mean it at all—can we please just forget it happened?” His voice is velvet, his shoulders are so broad, and it’s not lost on you that he’s wearing a baggy pair of sweats with an even baggier sweatshirt. The outline of his cock a calculated taunt.

You cross your arms and turn away. 

“It was mean. So fucking mean, and it made me feel horrible.” Your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to, a true glimpse into how hurt you were. You feel his broadness behind you. 

“I know, it was so stupid, I’m stupid sometimes—I regretted it as I was saying it. I didn’t mean it at all.” His big hands skate across your shoulders, slowly turning you to face him. “Can you forgive me?” He’s staring at your mouth, and you almost pant. He’s so close, he smells so fucking good, and every molecule of your being screams at you to just give in. 

He senses it.

His hands slide down your sides, grabbing onto your hips softly as he pulls you ever closer. His head dips, and he plants a soft kiss on your neck. The sigh you let out fills the dwindling space between you, involuntary. Just like the way your head moves almost imperceptibly to the side to give him more access, he doesn’t disappoint.

“Forgive me?” He kisses your jaw, moving up towards your ear. “I missed you so much.” He bites your earlobe while his hands move to grab at your ass. “Did you miss me?” He moves to the other side, repeating the same circuit before he looks you in the eye.

Your slightly parted lips and glazed-over expression are all the confirmation he needs to know he’s been forgiven. 

He presses his lips to yours softly, so soft it almost tickles, and he swallows the small whimper it pulls out from your throat. 

He presses himself closer still, the wall of his chest pressed up against you tight. His kiss turns from something soft to all-consuming, something breathless.

“I thought-“ he moves to kiss your neck again. “-you only came to talk.” Your hands move without your permission, fingers threading through the wild locks of his hair. 

“We did talk.” His tongue is in your mouth now, and it tastes like the gum he always chews, minty and sweet. “I wanna kiss now.” He devours you again as his hand creeps up your shirt, and now the cup of your bra is being pulled down. His tongue moves against yours while his fingers pluck at your nipple.

You moan, and it spurs him on, his cock hard against your hip, and suddenly you're herded towards the bedroom, only stopping every so often en route for him to press you against a wall or door. His hands are always moving, always grabbing and palming. 

You land in your bed with a soft gasp, but he doesn’t let you land alone; he’s right there with you. The look of triumph shining out through his dark eyes, lidded with the same passion that presses against your core when he slots his hips in the cradle of your thighs. A soft hum from him, a panted breath from you, and the whisper of skin moving against the now-rumpled sheets of your bed are the soundtrack to your reunion. 

He pulls away, and you chase his mouth, any anger left overtaken by lust. He laughs low, not unkindly, moving to kneel between your legs as you stretch out before him. His eyes follow the movement of your body, plotting how he’ll devour you.

He smiles as he divests you of your layers, unwrapping you like a present, and as they come off, your arousal burns brighter, pools at your opening like a spring just for him. 

“Admit it-you missed me.” He’s almost breathless, his fingers curl around the waistband of your panties. 

“Obviously.” You grit out the word, raising your hips to help him, and he lets out a bark of laughter. “I don’t need your smugness, mister.” You reach up to pull his shirt up and off, and he lets you. The broadness of his shoulders, and the golden skin on display, almost makes you sigh.

“I like that you missed me-“ he lifts your leg by your knee and the flash of his rings catches your eye before he places a soft kiss on your calf. “-makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He wasn’t lying; you could see the proof of it tenting the front of his sweats.

“Show me how much you like it.” You match his tone, reaching up to run your fingers down his belly, through the little patch of hair, and further down until you tease at his waistband.

“Pull me out.” His words send a thrill through you, and you rush to comply, relishing the look on his face when you finally wrap your hand around the heft of him. His low moan goes straight to your cunt when you rub your thumb through the pearl of his own arousal, giving him a quick stroke before he pulls his sweats down and off. 

His cock bobs in front, resting against your wet center when he gets back into position, hot and heavy, and by the way your heart is pounding, he can surely feel it even there-all for him. He spreads your legs open and up, bending them at the knees and holding them tight to your chest with his big hands on your shins. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. I bet I could just slip right in, wouldn’t even need my hands.” He rocks himself back and forth slowly, coating himself in your liquid heat, his eyes glued to your cunt. You writhe, whining with frustration. He lets out a tsk, drunk on his ability to get you into this state. One of his hands moves, and then his thumb is circling your perky little clit, dizzying circles, while his cock rests just at the mouth of your pussy, the thickness of him opening you up like a flower. He leans forward slightly, letting his spit drip down where his thumb is, and it’s like you're drowning in him. 

Your hands pluck at your nipples as the circling of his thumb pushes you closer and closer towards nirvana.

“God, yes, play with your tits.” He swirls his thumb faster, the glide of it just right—and then you’re floating, gifting him with a filthy moan as your cunt clenches, all but pulling him inside. He doesn’t wait until your orgasm passes; he feeds himself into your fluttering entrance, and his earlier musing was correct-he slides right in. 

“Fuck.” His voice is low, the bravado gone, lost in the proverbial sauce as he coats himself in you. He speeds up quickly, unable—or unwilling to pace himself. His eyes are glazed over when he looks up at you, a gorgeous flush creeping up his chest, lighting up his cheeks and his ears. His panting breath, the wet sounds of your joining, and your gasping moans all come together to make the song that always plays whenever he’s with you. 

“I’m gonna fucking come-“ he sounds wrecked, and he is- his hips snapping faster now, the wet clutch of your cunt casts its spell on him, and within a handful of thrusts, he’s groaning, his hand leaves your shin and moves to hold himself as he comes. The first spurt of it is inside, but he pulls out and finishes on the lips of your sex, and you know this is his favourite part. 

“Oh fuckkk, there it is-“ He groans out the words, and his voice is somehow more vulgar than the act, mesmerized by the sight of your pussy covered in his come. “God, I fucking missed that.” He hisses, enduring the discomfort of overstimulation just to rub himself in his own mess. 

“I missed it too.” You’re sated, basking in the afterglow, loving the mess just as much as he does. He smiles up at you, and you ignore the way your heart pounds for him.

“I know you did.” He’s not cocky when he says it, and it makes ignoring the pounding harder than it should. His fingers collect some of his fluids and push it back in, as deep as his thick fingers can get, before popping them into his mouth, pulling an involuntary moan. “Give me a few, and then I’ll fuck you on your knees how you like.” He leans forward to lay between your legs, kissing his way up from your sternum to plant one of those toe-curling kisses on your mouth once more.

“What a gentleman.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, relishing his dimpled smile. 

“You should know-“ he frowns now, eyes darting, and you know what he’s thinking, wondering if maybe there’s a pounding he’s ignoring. 

“You’re forgiven, Dieter, it’s okay. Just stop sending me flowers.” You run your fingers through his hair; nothing else needs to be said on the matter, and for the rest of the night-there isn’t.

--------------------

Tag list: @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @ezrasbirdie @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @mrs-ghuleh @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name @zombiesnips-blog @quica-quica-quica @sarahjkl82-blog @fan-of-encouragement @queenofthecloudss @mandosmistress @deadhumourist @felicisimor @no-droids-on-sunday @sophiefatale2495 @toomanystoriessolittletime @what-iwish-you-knew @pedrostories @athalien @bi-thewayy @literallydontlook @pedrosbrat @gamingaquarius @localddreamers @luxmundee @iamafadedmoon @nakhudanyx @littlemisspascal @grogusmum @recklessworry @heyitmelexie @killyspinacoladas @gothicxbarbie @evildxad @dragonslarimar @spideysimpossiblegirl @chemtrail-mix @maievdenoir @breezythesimp @altarsw @artooies-scream @staygolddindjarin @lorosette @softsweetedbeauty @littlemisspascal @yuiopiklmn @squidwell @allthatsleftbehind @just-blogging-around @bbyanarchist @girlofchaos @maddiedrmr @frasmotic @planetariumx @acourtofsnakes @buckybarneshairpullingkink @astoryisaloveaffair @harriedandharassed @swtaura @evelynseventyr @send-me-to-valhalla @shirks-all-responsibilities @androah @alwaysachorusgirl @dindjarinsmut @captain-jebi @gallowsjoker @oliviajdjarin @actuallyanita @tusk89 @dadbodfanatic-x

[pricetagofficial]

The Little Merman -D.G. Part Three

Warnings: Fluff, angst, probably some other warnings that I might need to put? Idk man its late and I kinda don't care.

Masterlist

Pairing: Merman!Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: I Told y'all I wasn't dead. Might as well be with how work keeps doing me dirty. Like, if it's gonna fuck me over at least make it fun for me? ANYWAY. Here is a long overdue part for this series, and I hope you all enjoy this!

You paced back and forth by the carriage Dick was supposed to be out here a while ago. Did he change his mind? Did he suddenly have no interest in you?

Tara was by your side, waiting to see you off before she continued on with her day. Her mission was to make sure you and Dick didn’t fall in love, maybe then she would get her own wish. The weight of the now empty potion bottle rested heavy in her bag. She slipped the potion into both yours and Dick’s morning tea, and it seemed to be taking effect, unbeknownst to you.

Dick wasn’t sure what happened, one moment everything was going good and then he seemed to lose everything he needed for the day. As you said, Roy and Kyle were helping him get ready for the day but no matter what he did everything went wrong.

It took three pairs of pants, and four shirts before Dick was dressed and ready to go, deciding to leave his hair unkempt and shaggy, afraid what would happen if he tried to do anything to it.

What he didn’t realize is when he finally showed up, was the way your eyes focused on him. You thought he was beautiful with the way his hair hung in his eyes, making the blue striking against the black of his hair.

Of course, Roy off to the side noticed the way you were looking at DIck and only grinned before he cleared his throat.

“You need anything before you leave Y/N?” he asked.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you turned your attention to Roy. “No, thank you. If I do, I’ll be sure to send word.”

Roy nodded and helped you and Dick into the carriage, a stupid grin on his face. Handing you the reins, he wished you luck before watching you ride off with Dick. Little did he know just how much you needed it.

The ride through the town was a peaceful one, you pointed out the different parts of your kingdom to Dick, giving him the history of each little thing. You showed him through the part of town that was right outside your castle walls, the oldest part of the city.

Dick sat and listened to you intently, soaking in every bit of information you gave him. He learned that your family had been here for generations, and the people loved you. He would see the common folk wave at you, and you waved back.

He loved seeing you like this, Dick knew what it meant to be of royal status and the responsibilities that came with it, but one look at how you treated your people told him that you were made for this. The people loved you, and you loved them.

It made him a little homesick, but that kind of life wasn’t for him. It was suited more for the others, not him. Hopefully, Bruce would see how much Dick wanted to be with you and let the marriage go.

Dick was suddenly jared from his thoughts when there was a loud crack of wood and the carriage the two of you were riding in suddenly dropped and you pulled it to a stop.

Looking over at him, you gave Dick a worried expression that made his insides warm.

“Are you okay?”

Dick nodded.

Letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you sighed and tied off the reins before getting off and walking around to look at the damage. You weren’t sure how it happened, but you somehow ran over a ditch and it snapped one of the back wheels off the carriage completely. It was nothing more than a few spokes of wood now.

Dick leaned over the edge and let out a gasp when he saw the damage. How were they supposed to get around now?

As if you heard his thoughts, you looked up at him with a smile. “It’s fine, this was an old carriage anyway. Why don't we move it to the side, and then we can ride horseback through the rest of the way?”

Dick gave you an apprehensive look. How were you supposed to ride one of those things? It looked shocking and downright dangerous.

“Don’t worry Dick I’ll–” You stopped, looking behind Dick to see the horses were gone.

“Uh Dick, where did the horses go?”

Whirling around to look, Dick was shocked to see the horses were gone! How did that happen? He watched you tie them off so they wouldn’t escape!

Rubbing your face, you let out another long drawn out sigh before taking a deep breath. Today was supposed to be about you showing Dick around, and you can still do that. You were just going to have to find a new way to get around.

Putting a smile on your face, you looked up at Dick and smiled. “It’s okay, we can walk. It gives us more time to look around and see the sights!”

Dick smiled, seeing how you were able to still stay positive, before nodding happily and making his way off the brokedown carriage. Offering him your hand, you smiled as you helped him down.

He was still getting used to walking on legs, and it was a lot harder than swimming with a tail that’s for sure. Once his feet were on the ground, Dick looked down at you with the biggest smile on his face. He couldn’t believe he was here with you, soaking up the rays of the sun as it shined down on you. How many nights did he spend dreaming about a moment like this, and now here he was, promised an eternity with you.

All he had to do was keep his end of the bargain.

Keeping a hold on his hand, you walked with Dick down the street. The dirt road beneath was old and worn, but it did its duty as it led you from one area of town to the other. Down towards the port, you could smell the fresh salty, sea air. You could feel the way it called to you, the promise of what lay beneath its shimmering waters beckoning you closer.

But something kept you from grabbing the nearest boat and sailing out, you had a duty to take care of the man with you. As much as your heart longed for the man from the sea, you knew it could never be. He couldn’t be on land, and you couldn’t live in the sea.

As if he could sense your troubled thoughts, Dick gave your hand a squeeze.

Looking up at him, you saw the inquisitive look he was giving you. You knew that look from somewhere, but you couldn’t place it.

“I’m okay,” you smiled. “Just thinking about the ocean, and it’s mysterious wonders.”

His eyes didn’t leave you, as if he was asking for you to go on. Letting out a slight chuckle, you looked out to the horizon.

“The ocean is so vast, there is so much that humans haven’t explored, depths we haven’t reached.” You watched from where you stood, the path leading you to a cliff edge where you could see the ocean for miles from your position. “There’s an entire world down there that no one on land knows about, I want to know everything. I want to experience all it can offer, see where the waves can take me with nothing but the sun and the misty breeze to guide me.”

Dick watched you with a look of awe on his face. The way you watched the waves roll, and breach the shore with a look of far-off wonder in your eyes. It made him homesick, but Dick wanted to be with you.

When this was all over, he promised himself he would take you anywhere you wanted to go. Only if it meant he got to see you look like this for the rest of his life. If he spent the rest of his days chasing after adventure with you, looking to satiate your curiosity, Dick would do it a thousand times over.

Hearing the shouts of people around you broke you from your trance, the sea had an ability to lull you under its mysterious spell. Maybe one day it will sweep you away with it, if you let it.

Turning to head towards town once more, the cliff beneath your feet began to crumble and break. A panicked look formed on your face as the ground disappeared and you were falling through the air.

A shriek left you as you fell, the last thing you saw was Dick’s face before a pair of hands darted out to catch you. Holding tight for dear life, you looked up and saw Dick there gripping your hands tightly, so you wouldn’t fall to your death.

“Dick! Don’t let me go! Please!”

He nodded, moving to try and pull you up. This couldn’t be the end, he couldn’t lose you like this. Holding onto you as tight as he could, Dick pulled.

Trying to keep your breathing under control, you used your feet to try and boost yourself upwards to him so he could pull you easier. With your feet slipping once or twice, you felt his grip tighten before you were finally pulled up and over.

Dick grateful that you were okay, didn’t even notice or care about the fact he was lying in the dirt with you draped on top of him. Your labored breaths were ticking his throat as you rested your head on him trying to calm your racing heart.

What was going on today, first the carriage, then the horse and now you almost fell to your death? Whatever it was, you hoped it was over.

Planting your hand on his chest, you pushed yourself up and looked down at Dick who had wide eyes as he watched you with rose tinted cheeks.

“Are you okay?” you breathed, looking into his eyes. You could see them swimming with emotion and so many unsaid things, what you wouldn’t give to see what was going on in his head.

Dick felt like he couldn’t breath, you were laying on top of him. Not only that, he could feel every part of you pressed against him. The way your chest fit against his, and your hips angled just right that if you moved he would be in a very compromised position.

Suddenly glad he didn’t have his voice, Dick nodded. He knew if he spoke, it would betray him and embarrass you both.

Glad to see he was okay, you carefully pushed off of him. Rising to your feet, you offered him a hand and pulled him up.

“I can’t thank you enough for saving my life,” you began. “If you hadn’t have been here, I don’t know what–”

Dick put a finger to your lips and shook his head, a soft smile on his face.

How was he so cute?

Fighting the heat rising to your cheeks, you kept a hold on Dick’s hand as you led him further into town once again.

The rest of the afternoon was nowhere as eventful as the beginning. You and Dick still seemed to experience bad luck, but after the cliff crumbling under you, none of it seemed so bad. You gave Dick a tour of the square, even stopping to dance with him to the music the locals were playing.

You could feel the heat radiating from his chest as he held you close, dancing around with the widest smile on your face.

When the sun began to set, you and Dick made your way back to the castle. You were still down a carriage and horses, so it was a bit of a walk back. But because you had someone with you, it wasn’t so bad.

Dick walked with you as your voice filled the night air, telling him story after story. If he wasn’t in love with you already, he had to be now. After spending the entire day with you, Dick knew in his heart he made the right choice. There was nowhere he wanted to be more than with you.

As you walked, you saw the moon reflect on the sea. It brought your thoughts back to your merman friend, and wondered what he was up to at this time. Did he miss you? Did he even realize it’s been several days since you last saw him?

Shaking your head, you had to get him out of your mind when you had an amazing man with you. For someone so quiet, he spoke volumes to you. You could see the excitement and wonder when he looked at things, truly appreciating everything for what it was, and what it could be.

His imagination and curiosity inspired you to learn more, it made you want to understand him better. What good was chasing a fantasy when you had someone right there with you?

The moon was high in the sky when the two of you finally made it back to the castle, the night air filled with the sounds of crickets, and frogs singing their songs. Your mind was filled and confused, Dick was an amazing guy. But was he the one for you?

Meeting you at the doors was Roy and Vic, a look of relief on their faces.

“Where have you two been, and why did the horses return without you!?” Roy hissed, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you.

“The carriage broke down and they got away,” you shared a look with DIck before looking at Roy. “It’s been a very eventful day.”

Roy saw the look you shared with Dick before a grin formed on his lips. “I can see that,”

“Well, how about we get our friend settled and we can talk about it.”

Nodding softly, you smiled at Dick. “I’ll see you in the morning okay?”

Dick smiled back and nodded, before he made his way back up to his room with Roy behind him.

The walk was quiet, while Roy followed. Dick could tell he wanted to ask him something, but stayed silent. He couldn’t tell if it was because he couldn’t talk, or if it was too awkward to mention.

Whatever it was, it kept Roy silent until they made it to Dick’s door.

“Do you need anything else?”

Dick shook his head.

Roy smiled, “Alright then. If you need anything, you know where to find us.” As he began to take his leave, Roy stopped and turned back to Dick.

“You know, Y/N doesn’t warm up to people this quick usually. You must really be something special for her to spend the whole day with you.”

Dick couldn’t fight the blush on his face forming at his words. What was he talking about? When Dick first met you, you took a liking to him immediately. Then again, he was a creature from the deep. It could have been just pure curiosity until you were comfortable.

Roy noticed the blush of Dick’s face and snickered, “See you in the morning.”

Before he could embarrass himself even more, Dick quickly entered his room and shut the door behind him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, his heart was going a mile a minute, as he felt it pounding against his chest.

What was this? Nerves? Anxiety? Dick has never felt like this before, like he was going to jump for joy and throw up at the same time. What was wrong with him?

“I think you are truly in love Master Richard,” a voice piped up from below him. Looking down, Dick saw Alfred there looking up at him.

Dick clenched his fists as he slid down the door, to the floor. Running a hand through his hair, he looked to Alfred. He couldn’t ask him what to do, not having his voice was harder than it looked.

“I heard what that man outside said, I think the young lady has taken quite a liking to you.”

Alfred chuckled at the questioning look Dick gave him.

“Yes, I really do think so. I’ve been watching, and I think she is falling in love with you, like you did her.”

Now Dick’s entire upper body was hot, the blushing rushing from embarrassment.

“I am not a blind crab, Master Richard. I really think you have a chance of getting that kiss and getting to be with her.”

Dick’s face softened, as he leaned on his knees. Giving Alfred a thankful look, Dick sat for a bit so he could calm down before he climbed into bed with thoughts of you filling his dreams as he slowly dozed off.

As he fell asleep, a few doors down Tara stared into her mirror with the reflection showing Slade once again.

“What do you mean it didn’t work?” He growled.

“I mean, the potion didn’t work.” she hissed. “It almost got Y/N killed, and only brought them closer together. We need a new approach.”

Slade sat there and contemplated. He wasn’t sure what a simple bad luck potion was going to get him, so it seemed he had to find a new approach. Turning around, Slade looked at the cabinets until he got an idea.

A wicked grin grew on his face. If he wanted something done, he was going to have to do it himself.

“Slade, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of paying a visit myself.”

“What are you–”

“You’ll see when I get there.”

Tara stared in disbelief, what was he talking about. Before she could ask, Slade disappeared and she was looking back at herself.

What had she gotten herself into?

~~~

It wasn’t long before Roy joined you out on the balcony that looked out to the sea.

“Y/N, I think you have a keeper.”

Turning to look back at him, you gave Roy a confused look. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

Roy chuckled, “I’m talking about the guy you have sleeping upstairs.” Leaning against the railing, Roy let out a sigh and looked at you.

“I know you have a thing for your fish friend or whatever, but Y/N face the facts. It would never work between you two, you’re human and he is only half. Even if it was possible, you’d be asking him to give up his entire life for you.”

Roy was the only person you told about your merman friend, and your possible growing feelings for him. But the thing was, these last two days he hasn’t been on your mind as much, with Dick coming into town and throwing your days for a loop.

“What are you saying?” You looked at him, watching as he stared at the sea longingly.

“I’m saying, the sea isn’t as forgiving as she looks.” There was a sadness hidden in his eyes, you knew what Roy had lost to the unchanging tides of the ocean. His family had shipwrecked when he was young, and that was when he was taken in by Oliver before he met you on a visit to your kingdom.

“Cherish what you have, you never know. What you’re looking for might be right in front of you.”

Before you could ask what he was talking about, Roy slipped away and back into the castle.

Cherish what you had? What was he talking about? You loved what you had deeply and took care of it all to the best of your ability. It was true you were missing your friend, but Roy had a point it was never going to work between you.

Dropping your head with a sigh, you looked up at the night sky. The stars were in perfect view tonight, the way they shined against the black of night was beautiful. They shined almost as much as Dick’s eyes, with the way they twinkled above you.

Dick’s eyes really were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. They looked like the raging ocean, beautiful as it was violent. You would have to sail the seven seas to find ocean water as blue as his eyes.

Wait, since when did you start thinking about Dick?

Now that you thought about it, your mind was on him the most these last few days. Was he what Roy meant by what you were looking for might be right in front of you? You couldn’t ignore the butterflies in your stomach when he looked at you, or the way he felt when you were laying on top of him after he saved your life.

It had only been two days, there was no way you were falling for him. Right?

Looking at your hands, you couldn’t deny the way you felt. Was this what you were really meant for, to fall in love with a complete stranger?

Wait, since when were you in love?

Looking up, you could see the light to his bedroom. It was still lit.

Were you really going to do this?

Turning to make your way upstairs, you heard something behind you. Looking back you saw a shape on the shore, it was dark and vague. Squinting your eyes, you could barely make out the shape of a man before you went sprinting down the halls,

What was it with men showing up on the shore stranded these days?

Everyone in the castle was asleep, so no one was there to stop you as you took the shortcut out the front door and down to the beach. Sure enough there was a man there lying face down on the sand.

“Hey!” you called, picking up the pace to reach him. “Hey, are you okay!?”

Sliding to a stop on your knees, you grabbed his shoulders and flipped him over. Not only was he missing an eye, but he looked to be older, with streaks of gray in his hair, and beard but no other serious signs of age. Pressing your ear to his chest, you could hear a heartbeat but it was faint.

Not thinking twice, you tilted his head up and plugged his nose before opening his mouth and breathed into it. After giving four puffs of air, you began to do chest compressions.

“Come on, wake up!” you muttered, putting all your weight into his chest.

Doing four more puffs of air, you began to feel a little funny. Your head was swimming, almost as if you were lightheaded. But you couldn’t stop, you were going to save this man no matter what.

After another set of compressions, you began to do four more puffs. By this point, you didn’t feel in control of your own body. After the fourth puff, you felt him sputter up water and take a deep breath.

Letting out a deep sigh, you relaxed back into the sand and watched him. “Are you alright?”

Shaking your head, you felt your vision get clouded over but you could still see. All you were able to focus on was the man lying in the sand in front of you.

The man nodded before looking at you, “Yeah, thanks to you.” Carefully, he sat up and looked around.

“Where am I?”

“You washed up on an island, I live in a castle not too far from here.” Why were you telling him all this information?

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, “Who are you?”

“You can call me Bruce.”

[trappedtowers]

The Survival Trio ~ Last Hope of The Towers

Hiii hello everyone I figured it'd be fun to give y'all a preview on the relationship of our main trio - Tom, Terra, and Cyrus !! A fun (and hopefully shorter) post for the day.

Post-writing note: IT WAS NOT SHORTER

(Art done by @/evilredyoshis)

Initial Meeting:

Terra and Cyrus had their first proper interactions shortly after the initial Nemesis attack. Terra found Cy wandering and keeping low around the Valley and took them back to the S&S Centre, making them the first member to join the team.

After Tom getting trapped, Terra found him while on the daily rounds about to be caught by Nemesis. They saved his life and gave him the rundown before trying to leave him at the Alton Towers Hotel to keep him safe... Tom didn't accept it and ran after Terra to join the S&S team.

Finally, Tom met Cy when Terra called in for help after being cornered by Nemesis. The initial meeting didn't get much talking time as Cy was having to carry Tom and Terra while speeding through the air and dodging all of Nemesis' attempts to catch the trio. However, upon landing and getting back into the Facility, the two finally got an introduction... which didn't go too smoothly.

Team Roles:

To start, the oldest of the group - Terra. They are very much the leader of the trio, the peacemaker and most rational. When Tom and Cy bicker, Terra will always be the one to pop in and shut it down. However, they can't be there at all times due to the fact that they're older and never were a fighter. So, to keep an eye on stuff, they will be constantly calling in on the two for updates, and sometimes to give new information!

Cyrus is the more experienced fighting mentor for Tom - however, they're also rather immature and quite dislike Tom's mentality and attitude as it goes against their carefree and open way of life. They're very reliable when it comes to saving a situation last second, always being able to wipe the floor with opponents in seconds.

Tom is new to everything, being rather uninformed and purely there under the vouch of Sir Algenon who saw something in him and let him chase after Terra to join the S&S. He's passionate, as much as he doesn't wanna show it, he has a strong will to escape Alton Towers and despite being completely new - he's adjusting quick and well. The gang doesn't know what caused Sir Algenon to see it in HIM, but he's already here and there's not much to be done.

Relationships:

Starting with Terra and Cy, they've been together since the beginning of Nemesis' reign of terror. Terra has seen a lot of Cy's worst moments, adjusting to the lack of freedom and coping with the new changes in their life. They've helped each other through a lot and have formed a bond in which they can trust each other strongly with whatever. It's rare for them to disagree, and even when they do they get over it quickly for the greater good.

Moving to Tom and Terra, they are interesting... because of Cy, Terra has become a lot more patient and understanding to people, however didn't quite believe in Tom initially. However, after hearing that Sir Algenon saw something in him, they reluctantly took him in. Only after the first mission though did Terra understand too, seeing that there was potential and so they took the role of an emotional mentor, wanting to see and help him mature. Throughout the journey, Terra is constantly nudging Tom within the correct direction to help him become a better person.

However, on the other end of this is Tom and Cy's relationship - which is very strained. Cy heavily dislikes having to 'babysit' Tom, while Tom is constantly being frustrated with Cy's treatment of him and wanting to be taken seriously - which leads to him trying way too hard and making major mistakes. In short, one wants to be free and not tied to a person, and the other wants to be seen and taken seriously. It's rare that they successfully work together, but either way they get through any opponent thrown at them.

The End:

I HAVE LITERALLY NO IDEA HOW TO END THIS !! :D

Um I hope that this was a neat little dive into their characters, there's still SO SO much more to go through. In-depth looks into how they act, what their personalities are like, etc. However this is all I think I'm gonna talk about with these characters for now.

Enjoy your day. I'm off to bed

- JustDaniel

[teawithsatanx]

I hate making these kinds of posts. I really do. But I'm scared I'm on the verge of starving and/or homeless.

I have been living with my father for over 8 months at this point and he and I have never had a strong relationship. I'm lucky enough as it is that I am still under his roof and he has been patient, as he so lovingly reminds me at least once a week. I lost my job last month due to things outside of my control and he has never failed to remind me that once I run out of money for my own transportation and groceries that I will be on even thinner ice and possibly homeless. My mother hasn't been much of a support on that regard either, so my hands are tied and I just need to sit down and accept I need help before it's too late.

I pay $150 every two weeks for groceries and my allotted menu that I've stretched to almost 3 weeks at this point will eventually run out by next week. I had to spend the majority of my birthday money on either rideshares to get to and from interviews or my storage unit that holds most of my possessions that have a lot of meaning to me. At this point I am afraid that if I cannot at least feed myself my father will lose patience with the uptick in his own grocery bill.

So, I'm doing the one thing I hate the most and asking for help. I can't draw so I can't offer emergency comms on that end but I do write. Fanfiction and romance exclusively, but that doesn't mean I can't branch out. I have some references to my skill and I have no idea how this would work but. I'm not going to take money without at least giving something in return. I also have some experience writing bios for characters for my own OCs and one for a friend if you would like a long, detailed description for your OC's background in a short-story style.

What I'm thinking is if you have an OC or a pairing that you have an idea for but don't really know how to write it out, I can curate a one-shot for you. These one-shots would be at least 1000+ words, depending. All I'd really need is the Fandom if there is one, the pairing, your idea, a description of your vision, etc. These are pay what you can, and what you feel would be worth the end product.

I'm not even sure this is a good idea or if this is something someone would be interested in but I have to do something at this point instead of sitting here and panicking. Of course there is never any hard feelings to anybody that cannot help. I'm just putting this out there and if nothing comes from it that's okay. I'll come up with something.

Any other way thank y'all for giving me some of your time. Feel free to DM me with anything and we can go from there <3

EDIT: I had a friend of mine very very very generously aid me by giving me enough to at least get my groceries for a week. A huge thank you to her 100000x. I'm still a little short for money on rideshares to and from interviews and hopefully potential first days of work until I get paid but I will not go hungry!

Another huge thank you to everybody sharing this and supporting in any way they can. All of you are near and dear to me even if you're strangers.

[rai-knightshade-art]

Prompt: "This is me trying"

Pitch Perfect RarePair Week 2022, Day 1

Because we all know the REAL reason Jessica and Ashley didn't get much screentime in the movies was because they were busy being James Bond-esque super spies/secret agents and living out their very own Mrs. and Mrs. Smith AU. Speaking of, hey, Pitch Perfect fandom? I have seen ZERO Mrs. and Mrs. Smith AU's for these two yet and I am APPALLED. It's perfect for them! Secret hidden lives, confusion over names (because they've got so many cover identities it's hard to keep track who's who), JESSICA'S LAST NAME IS LITERALLY SMITH THIS FIC WRITES ITSELF.

*ahem*

Anyways, welcome to my first entry (EVER!!) for Pitch Perfect RarePair Week! I rewatched the first movie recently, hyperfixated, and came to the realization that, apparently, it's "oops all rarepairs and hot takes" for me 😅. This seemed like the perfect way to tentatively test the waters of truly joining in, ya know? And so, I offer this drawing as your prompt, oh fic writers of the fandom; if you want to write this AU, you've already got free fan art for it! And my undying devotion.

This is, of course, for Prompt #1, "this is me trying"; I'm sure this was intended to be an angsty, emotional turmoil between partners prompt, but I couldn't help but turn it on its head into a comedic exchange in the middle of a High Stakes Infiltrate-and-Extract job, ya know? YOU try cracking the safe then, Jessica, if you think it's so easy! 😂

Stay tuned for the rest of my RarePair Week posts, and of course check out everybody else's entries over on @pitchperfectrarepairweek as they come in! There's some seriously talented writers in this fandom! As for me, I've got a couple of different rarepairs I've been drawing for, plus (hopefully) one fic for Day 5 that also ties into Day 6 (and, technically speaking, Day 2, though it's not as obvious)... Provided I can, ya know, ever finish writing the damn thing 😅. Though I will warn y'all, Day 2's entry may or may not be late, as I only had the idea for it a couple days ago and I haven't had time yet to draw it 😅 we shall see how quickly I can get it put together!

Links to the other RarePair Week posts and a close up below the cut, Image ID is in the alt text!

Days I'm participating in (and the Entries I've posted):

Day 1 (This is me trying): You are Here!

Day 2 (I've missed you): Link

Day 5 (If honesty means telling the truth... Well then the truth is I'm still in love with you): Link

Day 6 (There's no way that it's not going to happen with you looking at me like that): Link

Day 7.1 (I can't say it, but I'll sing it): Link

Day 7.2 (part 2): Link

Close Up:

[bradshawsbaby]

My Favorite Mistake

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Natasha “Phoenix” Trace

Author’s Note: These two have impeccable chemistry. Change my mind (Hint: You can’t). The more I think about it, the more I ship them. This is my first time writing for them, so hopefully I did their characters justice!

Warnings: NSFW (18+) - An overindulgence of alcohol, language, a smidge of dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, Hangman and Phoenix being their sassy selves.

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was not a stupid person. Far from it. Even with the high level of alcohol in her system, she knew this was a bad idea. A horrible, horrible idea. The minute she climbed into the back of that Uber with Jake “Hangman” Seresin, she knew what a terrible decision she was about to make. And she didn’t care.

The night had started out like any other. There had been nothing at the start to indicate that the evening was going to progress in any way other than how it normally would. Making the most of their day off, Phoenix, Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Hangman had spent the day at the beach, then decided to end the evening with drinks at The Hard Deck.

It had been Coyote’s idea to play pool. Or maybe Fanboy’s. Or Payback’s. Phoenix couldn’t remember now, but it didn’t matter much. The point was, after several rounds of Penny’s finest, they’d started racking up the pool balls and Phoenix’s competitive streak had started to rear its ugly head, much to the boys’ increasing alarm. The focus of her ire that night? Hangman Seresin. She loved taking any opportunity she could to wipe that smug smile off his face.

So focused was she on besting him at every turn that she didn’t even register when the rest of the guys started bowing out of the game one by one, exchanging knowing glances even as they sipped their drinks without a word.

Payback and Fanboy were the first ones to call it quits for the night.

“Y'all can stick around if you want, but I’m exhausted,” Payback admitted with a yawn, pulling out his credit card so that he could settle up with Penny.

“Same,” Fanboy nodded, stifling a yawn of his own. “I’m ready to murder my pillow. No day off tomorrow,” he grinned, following Payback to the bar.

Coyote stayed for one more round, standing beside Rooster and Bob as the three of them watched Phoenix and Hangman trade increasingly vulgar insults with one another, the two of them locked in a fierce competition that they seemed unaware no one else was a part of. He finally rolled his eyes with a smirk, having a feeling he knew exactly how the night was going to end.

“Enjoy getting your ass handed to you by Phoenix, man,” Coyote laughed as he patted Hangman on the shoulder, waving to Rooster and Bob before making his exit as well.

“All tied up, Phoenix. What do you say we make this the last round, for your sake?” Hangman smirked, racking up another game of Nine-ball.

“Whatever you need to do to save face, Bagman,” Phoenix shot back in reply, a smug look on her own face as she leaned against her pool cue.

“They’ll be at this all night,” Bob groaned under his breath, eyeing his flying partner carefully. He recognized that look on her face and knew she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Rooster sighed, nodding in agreement. “You’re not wrong there.” He shook his head. “Well, if they want to be exhausted tomorrow, let them. We don’t have to be,” he said, nodding his head towards the bar. He and Bob settled their tabs, then walked back over to where Phoenix was waiting while Hangman took his turn.

“Phoenix, you going to be alright?” Rooster asked quietly, looking his friend up and down carefully.

Phoenix simply nodded, distracted by the game in front of her. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’ll get Hangman to pay for my ride when he loses,” she added with a confident grin.

“Call us if you need anything,” Bob told her, always looking out for his partner.

“I will. See you guys tomorrow,” Phoenix waved as the two of them reluctantly left the bar.

“Just you and me left, Phoenix,” Hangman grinned, holding a hand out towards the pool table to indicate that it was her turn.

“Mm, don’t hold your breath, Bagman. As soon as I pocket this 9-ball, I’ll be home in bed,” Phoenix told him, leaning over the edge of the table to line up her cue stick.

“I’m sure that’s a very pretty sight,” he smirked, purposely stepping too close to her as he moved past to watch her next move. With her wearing those tight denim shorts that hugged her figure closely, he managed to brush against the bare skin on the backs of her thighs.

Phoenix cleared her throat, attempting once again to line up her stick. “You’re a dick,” she muttered, which made him laugh.

“How about we make this final round a bit more interesting, hm?” Hangman suggested suddenly, placing a hand on her cue stick to keep her from making a move.

Rolling her eyes, she straightened up to meet his gaze. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking that if you win, I’ll cover your tab and pay for the cab to take you back to your place,” Hangman began slowly, that smugly mischievous look gleaming in his eyes.

“And in the very unlikely chance that you win?” Phoenix demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Hangman smirked again and glanced down at her, his eyes purposely lingering on her chest. “If I win, you’ll cover my tab and I’ll pay for the cab to take us back to my place,” he told her, eyebrows raised in silent challenge.

Phoenix stared back at him, her own eyebrow quirking in response. He really was such a dick. He was probably just trying to bait her, just trying to get under her skin. “Sure,” she replied with a wicked smile. “You’ve got a deal.” Bet he wasn’t expecting that.

He just smiled in response, leaning closer to her. “Your turn,” he said in a low voice, indicating the pool table once more. “This is it, Phoenix,” he said, moving behind her. “Pocket that 9-ball and victory is yours.” He chuckled as his hand grazed her from behind. “Or don’t, and you’re mine.”

Pulse beating rather erratically in her veins, Phoenix set up her cue stick once more and eyed down the line, gritting her teeth as she stared at that 9-ball. She could take that shot. It was a fairly easy win. Looking back on it, she wasn’t sure what ended up happening. But as she went to strike the ball, her shot went too wide and missed the pocket completely.

“Now ain’t that a crying shame?” Hangman declared with mock sympathy, smirking at her as he bent down to neatly pocket the 9-ball, winning the game.

“Fuck,” Phoenix muttered, running a hand through her dark hair, which she was wearing loose for once.

“Such a dirty mouth you have, Phoenix,” Hangman grinned, smoothly ducking when she swung a fist at him. “Now why don’t you go settle our tabs and I’ll call that cab? A deal’s a deal, after all,” he grinned.

God, she wanted to hit him. But instead, she marched herself over to the bar and begrudgingly closed both her and Hangman’s tabs.

“Need me to call you a cab, Phoenix?” Penny asked, eyes filled with motherly concern.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Phoenix sighed, accepting her credit card back. “Hangman’s got it covered.”

Penny eyed her for a moment, a look of understanding passing over her serene face. “Alright then. Be safe,” she said pointedly, watching from the bar as the two bickering aviators made their way out of her establishment.

And that was how Phoenix had ended up in the backseat of an Uber with Hangman, knowing damn well what was going to happen. And though he drove her insane, though she wanted nothing more than to wipe the floor with that arrogant prep boy face at times, the truth was that she couldn’t necessarily say she regretted it. But that was probably just the alcohol talking.

Her body felt hot in the backseat of that car, the space suddenly too small for the both of them together. She had never been more aware of him, more aware of his breathing and his size and the way she could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins.

He gazed down at her, catching sight of the expression on her face and smirking. “Why, Phoenix, you look—”

She cut him off as she suddenly pressed her lips against his, her mouth hot and demanding. If this was what it was going to be, then let it be.

Though he must have been at least somewhat taken aback, to his credit, Hangman didn’t seem to bat an eye. Rather, his arms came to rest around her body immediately, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her back savagely, his lips melding with hers as if they were battling one another in a dogfight instead of making out in the backseat of an Uber on the way home from the bar.

“Hmm, maybe your call sign should have been Minx,” Hangman laughed when they pulled back for air, burying his fingers in her dark hair and smiling boldly at the sight of her swollen lips.

“Shut up,” she told him, fisting her hand in the front of his polo shirt and pulling him towards her for another heated kiss.

By the time they finally climbed out of the Uber, their driver grumbling something that was probably going to drop Hangman’s rating by a few points, both of them were more turned on than either wanted to admit.

They both stood outside Hangman’s front door for a moment, pulses racing and hearts beating fast, but neither saying anything for several seconds.

“Well if we’re going to do this, let’s do it. No point in being pussies about it,” Phoenix finally said, hands on her hips as she glanced up at him.

“Oh, Lieutenant Trace, I love it when you talk dirty,” Hangman replied with a roll of his eyes, unlocking the door. As soon as they were both through, however, he grabbed her into his arms and kissed her again, his hands sliding down her back to cup the ass he’d been surreptitiously checking out all day.

“Fuck,” Phoenix groaned, tilting her head to the side as Hangman’s hot mouth began a frenzied descent down her throat, his hands roaming all over her body. And they were only in the hallway.

Lifting her into his arms as if she weighed nothing, Hangman made it only as far as the small kitchen table before he was setting her down and kissing her again, his lips bruising hers as he cupped her face with both hands, his fingers buried in her dark tresses.

“Take that stupid fucking shirt off,” Phoenix panted, desperately tugging at the navy blue polo shirt he’d been wearing since they got to The Hard Deck. God, she hated it.

Hangman smiled smugly as his shirt went flying over his head, landing somewhere behind him. “There goes that pretty fucking mouth of yours again, Phoenix,” he muttered, grasping her face in one hand and brushing his thumb over her lips. “Why don’t you show me what else it can do,” he smirked.

“Nice try,” Phoenix laughed, running her hands over his chest even as she shot him a sarcastic grin. “You’ll be on your knees for me before I’m ever on my knees for you, Seresin,” she told him without an ounce of hesitation.

“We’ll see about that,” Hangman shot back, brushing her hair away from her neck as his lips moved to capture her sensitive skin once more, nipping and sucking on her throat with the intention of leaving a mark.

“I need some kind of insurance that you’re not going to leave me out to dry, Bagman,” Phoenix laughed, throwing her head back as his lips continued to trail across her neck.

The use of the mocking nickname seemed to set something off in him because he suddenly grabbed her around the waist and tugged her closer to the edge of the table, pulling her tank top over her head and unclasping her bra before she could so much as blink.

“Shit, Hangman, you—”

He silenced her with his mouth, kissing her with an increased fervor and hunger as his hands reached up to grope at her breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples as she moaned against his lips, her arms moving to wrap around his neck.

“Not leaving you out to dry now, am I?” he smirked, reaching down to unbutton her denim shorts. His movements weren’t gentle or smooth, but she found that she didn’t care. She held onto his shoulders as he lifted her up and tugged them off, followed quickly by her lace thong.

Naked on Hangman Seresin’s kitchen table was not where she had envisioned herself at the end of the night, but yet there she was.

Capturing her lips with his own once more, Hangman spread her legs and palmed her, smirking against her mouth at what he found. “Dripping for me already, aren’t we, Phoenix?”

“You’re one to talk,” Phoenix replied with a matching smirk, glancing down pointedly at the front of his shorts. Grabbing his face, she kissed him again, her need for him growing as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself.

Hangman wasted no time in plunging two fingers inside her, pulling back slightly so that he could watch her expression as he fingered her. “Shit, you’re tight,” he groaned, slipping a third finger inside her as she panted in pleasure, biting down roughly on her lower lip.

“No need to hide how good it feels, Phoenix,” Hangman grinned, running his thumb over her lower lip with one hand as he continued to stimulate her with his other.

“You’re such an asshole,” Phoenix breathed out, though she couldn’t help but smile as she said it. Her head suddenly fell back and her mouth opened wide as Hangman’s fingers began stroking deeper inside her walls, his thumb rubbing her clit at the same time.  “Fuck! Don’t….stop….right….there,” she moaned, clutching onto his arms.

“My sweet little Phoenix, don’t say I never did anything for you,” Hangman said, suddenly dropping to his knees before her on the kitchen floor. Spreading her legs further, he began pressing hot kisses up and down her inner thighs.

“See? I told you,” Phoenix laughed breathlessly, letting out a soft yelp when he bit the inside of her leg.

Before she could even process what was happening, his mouth was on her and his tongue was pressing its way inside her, occupying the place that had been filled by his fingers just moments before. Crying out, she reached down and buried her fingers in his hair, pressing his face more tightly against her.

“Fuck, fuck. Oh, fuck!” Phoenix moaned as Hangman devoured her, his tongue hot and rough and relentless. It wasn’t long at all, damn him, before she felt herself on the precipice of an orgasm. “Fuck! Hangman, I—”

“Say my name,” he told her, lifting his eyes from between her legs to meet hers.

“Hangman—”

“No, my name. If you want me to make you come, I want to hear you say it,” he said, his tongue flicking out against her once more.

“Fuck, okay! Jake!” she cried out, pressing a hand against the back of his head as her vision began to blur from pleasure. “Jake! Jake!” She was practically screaming his name as she reached her climax, her desire spilling forth as Hangman held her hips firmly in place.

When Hangman finally rose, Phoenix was still trembling slightly, her chest heaving as she gazed at him. “You are rather sexy, you know that?” he asked, for once all traces of mocking humor absent from his face.

“I know,” Phoenix grinned, running a hand through her hair. She paused for a moment before sliding off the table and standing before him, her hands resting on the zipper of his shorts. “Well fair is fair. I’ve never been one to leave my wingman hanging,” she told him with a wink, slowly unzipping his shorts.

Hangman smirked, watching in silent pleasure as Phoenix began to kiss her way down his body, her lips somehow managing to feel cool against his flushed skin. The sight of her on her knees before him had his mouth watering as she tugged his boxers down.

“Hmm, I think I get all the jokes about your call sign now,” Phoenix laughed, her eyes taking in his impressive size. Of course he was that big. Well, at least now she knew his cockiness had some kind of foundation.

“Show me what that pretty mouth of yours can do, Phoenix,” Hangman murmured, running his fingers through her dark hair.

It turned out, it could do quite a lot. And that included making Jake Seresin weak at the knees for one of the first times in his life. “Fuck,” he groaned through gritted teeth, Phoenix’s dark hair wrapped around his hand as he watched her bob up and down on his length, taking him further and further each time until he could feel himself pressed against the back of her throat.  “Fuck! Phoenix!”

Pulling back, she smirked up at him. “Say my name,” she told him, a wicked little glint in those dark eyes of hers.

Hangman found himself chuckling despite everything, tugging on her hair slightly. “Fine. Natasha,” he shot back, his jaw clenching once more as she returned to business. “Shit, shit,” he groaned, throwing his head back as he felt himself getting ready to fall over the edge.

As opposed to pulling away, she held firm, taking him more fully into her mouth as he finished, spilling himself in that sweet mouth of hers. Watching her swallow was hands down one of the sexiest things he had ever seen in his life.

Both of them panting and trying to catch their breath, they stared at each other for a moment or two. Neither had expected things to change so drastically between them tonight. Nor had they had expected to enjoy it so much.

“Fuck,” Hangman rasped out, bending down to lift Phoenix into his arms once more, his lips crashing against hers as he carried her into his bedroom, the two of them collapsing onto his bed.

“You are little fucking minx, aren’t you?” Hangman laughed as, without warning, Phoenix pinned him down to the bed, straddling his thighs.

“It was definitely in the running for my call sign,” she smirked in response, resting her hands on his chest as she rubbed herself against him, making him groan.

“Don’t be a tease now, Minx,” he told her, pinching her ass ever so slightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Bagman,” she chuckled, reaching down to grasp him in her hand. She let out the softest moan he’d ever heard as he grabbed her hips and helped her lower herself onto him, her breath catching in her throat as she adjusted to the size of him.

“Big, I know,” Hangman smirked, raising a suggestive brow.

“Shut up,” Phoenix sighed, bending forward to kiss him as their bodies began to move in rhythm with one another. It was kind of like flying. And though Hangman was notorious for leaving his wingman behind in the air, in his bedroom, he did a good job of keeping pace with her.

“Oh, oh, fuck!” Phoenix cried out, fisting her hands in her dark hair as she bounced on top of him, his large hands reaching up to palm her breasts as his hips thrust upwards to meet hers.  “Right there! Right there!”

“Right here?” Hangman asked, suddenly grabbing her around the waist and flipping them so that he had her pinned beneath him. With renewed vigor, he pounded into her, both of their moans and cries getting louder and louder as they approached another big finish.

“Jake!” she screamed, in the same moment that he was crying out, “Natasha!” Though his brain was fuzzy, he had enough sense about him to pull out at the very last second, finishing across her thighs.

They lay there, side by side, panting and trying to catch their breath for several minutes. When their minds finally cleared, they turned to look at one another, reality crashing down around them hard.

“I should go,” Phoenix said suddenly, sitting up in bed and trying to remember where she had left her clothes. The kitchen.

“You don’t have to,” Hangman said, sitting up slightly. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

“Why? Want to buy me breakfast in the morning?” Phoenix teased, swinging her legs over the side of his bed.

“Phoenix, I mean it,” Hangman insisted, surprising her when he reached out to grab her hand. “It’s late. You don’t have to go.”

“Yes, I do,” Phoenix nodded, slipping her hand out of his and trying to ignore the question of why it mattered so much that he had grabbed it in the first place.

“Let me call you an Uber at least,” he said, unsure why he was feeling so uncharacteristically concerned. But the truth was that he did know the answer to that. As much as she crawled under his skin sometimes, he didn’t want anything happening to Phoenix.

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself,” she told him with a slight smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

He hesitated a moment, just staring at her, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her, naked in the middle of his bedroom with her dark hair wild about her shoulders. “Okay, whatever you say.”

Ten minutes later, Phoenix was in the back of an Uber on the way back to her place, head in her hands. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

Back at his place, Hangman lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to push the night’s events out of his mind. But he knew, deep down, that he’d never be able to. “Fuck.”

[burgundybmw]

Munson's Mixtape

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Cunningham!Reader

Word Count: 4,295

Warnings: Angst (not all of it tho!).

Summary: Chrissy has been acting weird, and like a good big sister Y/N drives to Hawkins from Notre Dame to check in on her. Only to find out she has plans to meet up with Eddie Munson. Things take a turn for the worse and now Y/N gets wrapped in to the horrors of Hawkins. Hey, at least she has the company of the guitarist she was sweet on back in high school for comfort.

Author’s Note: Take a deep breath y'all.

Track Nineteen

It was finally time. Y/N had been dreading this moment all day, all week, ever since she found out who killed Chrissy. They were all going up against Vecna, armed to the teeth with makeshift weapons and a sawed off shotgun. Y/N had insisted on splurging for more protective gear, the vision she had of Eddie permanently branded behind her eyelids. Eddie told her not to waste her money on him, but she ignored his complaints. Then he tried to convince her to wear the gear herself, but she forced it on him anyway. They argued over it for most of the drive away from the army surplus store. That was until Nancy stepped in and yelled at him.

"Just put on the damn vest Eddie! Give her some peace of mind!" she shouted at him. Nancy could be scary when she wanted to, so he listened and put the vest on under his leather jacket. Y/N wasn't going to take any risks, not after learning about the demobats. The bite on Steve's stomach was eerily similar to what Vecna had showed her. If anyone was going to make it out of this, it would be Eddie. She was going to make sure of it.

"Okay. I wanna run through it one more time." They were all inside the Winnebago going over the plans to defeat Vecna. Nancy was at the head, she stood tall with the confidence of a decorated veteran as she relayed the draft for battle. "Phase One."

"We meet Erica and Dustin in the playground. They'll signal Max and Lucas when we're ready." Robin replied, voice calm and even. The complete opposite of Y/N in that moment. She may have only dealt with the horrors of the Upside Down for less than a year, but it felt as if she was lightyears ahead her.

"Phase Two."

"Max baits Vecna. He'll go after her which'll put him in his trance." Steve explained, and that segment made Y/N the most terrified. They were just kids. She was just a kid. Kids shouldn't have to fight wars, risk their young lives like they were about to do. Nobody should.

"Phase three?" It was Y/N's turn to speak. She could feel the words in her throat, but they wouldn't come out. They were all looking at her now. She could feel Eddie gently rubbing up and down her back, soothing her perpetual state of panic.

"Eddie and I will draw the bats away. We'll keep them away from you guys as long as we can." Dustin had wanted to be with Eddie at first, but Y/N insisted she go in his stead. The man himself wasn't thrilled with idea either, especially since she refused the tactical gear. Y/N had changed out of her cheer uniform, traded in her short skirt with camo pants and sweater for a slick black t-shirt she tied in a knot at her midriff. She insisted that she would be okay, but there was no guarantee she would be. There was no guarantee with any of this.

"Four."

"We head into Vecna's hopefully newly bat-free lair, and... flambé." Robin replied as she waved the Molotov cocktail in her hand.

"Nobody moves onto the next phase until we've all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?" It sounded so simple when Nancy said it. Like they all were about to play capture the flag instead of entering a terrifying alternate dimension. Y/N gathered every ounce of strength within her. It wasn't the time for panic, or fleeting bursts of rage, she needed to be calm. So, she buried her fear, deep inside of her, so that nothing would distract from the mission ahead.

"Got it."

As Y/N climbed the rope through to the Upside Down, she couldn't help but think of Chrissy. Would she be proud of her? Would she be afraid for her? Would she yell at her for doing something so stupid that it could possibly get her killed? All the above? She'd like to think that her sister was watching over her, her own personal guardian angel. Y/N needed that support, that faith that her sister would be there for her like she always was, even in spirit. She wasn't afraid of her own death. She was afraid for everyone else's.

Y/N had read many philosophers spouting about how human beings fear death above all things, but when she looked into Eddie's eyes as he pulled her up from the mattress, all she could think about was that those people never had any real loss. That's what they should fear, not death. Going on in life without seeing the one's they love most walking alongside them. That was the thing she feared above all else.

Y/N and Eddie had followed Steve, Robin, and Nancy out of the dilapidated trailer, seeing them off on their mission to slay Vecna. The Upside Down was just as awful as they had described it, cold, rotting, and lifeless. She prayed they took care of Vecna as soon as possible, the sooner he was dead the sooner she could leave that awful place. Before she could wish them luck, Steve turned around to talk to them one last time.

"Hey, listen," Steve began, "if things start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna. Don't try to be cute, or be a hero or something."

"Yes, Steve. We play the decoys; you can go gallivanting into herodom." Y/N had zero intentions of doing anything reckless. She would stick the plan as if it were gospel.

"Absolutely, I mean look at us, we are not heroes." Y/N hoped Eddie meant that. The last thing she wanted was for him to play hero. She took solace in knowing he probably wouldn't. He had managed to escape trouble thus far; it wasn't in him to put himself in unnecessary danger. Steve had started to walk away, before Eddie stopped him.

"Hey Steve," he paused, taking a deep breath before he said: "make him pay." They both nodded to each other, a mutual understanding of the task at hand, before all three of them walked away. That left Eddie and Y/N alone together, it was time to begin their phase of the operation.

They worked in silence as they fortified the trailer, hammering wood and metal onto all its entrances. It wasn't Fort Knox, but it would have to do. Y/N couldn't help but think about what Eddie had told her earlier. They were alone now, he was supposed to tell her everything, and yet he remained silent. She didn't want to bring it up, pressure him into telling her, but it nearly drove her mad. Eddie was hammering the last nail into the board when he broke the silence.

"Do you remember that day I gave you the mixtape?" he asked. Y/N looked over to him, Eddie refused to meet her eye as he walked towards the door of the trailer.

"Yea... of course, why do you ask?" She followed his lead, walking through the heavily protected entrance. Eddie still wouldn't look at her, and it made her nervous. Where was he getting at? Eddie stopped in front of the bedroom door, his back facing her as he spoke.

"Do you remember what I said?" There was a lot of things he said that day. It was graduation day. There were some congratulations, an explanation on the beautiful calligraphy written on the wrapping paper, and what was on the tape itself.

"Yea, you knew I liked loved songs, so you put them on the tape. You also threw some of the stuff you liked on it too." She saw Eddie take a deep breath before he turned around to finally look at her.

"I lied." He began, "Well, partially. I did know you loved love songs, but that wasn't the reason I put them on the tape." Y/N could swear her heart was about to beat out of her chest. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She couldn't speak. She wouldn't dare interrupt him.

"I put those songs on the tape... fuck, this is a lot harder than I thought..." Eddie chuckled, she remained silent. "I put them on the tape because it was my way of telling you how I felt about you."

Y/N's world tilted on its axis. She wanted to believe it back then but convinced herself it wasn't true. She wouldn't allow herself to hope that Eddie loved her. Her eyes were wide with astonishment, but the words still wouldn't come out.

"I spent hours listening to the radio, going to the record store, buying shit I would normally never be caught dead with, just for the hope that they would sing the words I was too afraid to say to you. I wanted to tell you on graduation day, but I couldn't bring myself to do it." Eddie's eyes were locked onto hers, and he looked at her with such warmth it felt as if she would be set aflame.

"I was fully prepared to take this to the grave, but now that all of this shit is happening, I don't know how I could ever imagine myself lying six feet below the Earth without you knowing how much I love you." Eddie reached for Y/N's face, his hands holding her as if she was the most precious thing, he had ever had the privilege of touching.

"I loved you in 5th grade when you walked onto the playground and pushed Matthew Grayson to the ground when he first called me a freak. I loved you when you caught me crying in the school library the day after my parents kicked me out and hugged me until I calmed down. I loved you when you called Missy McClair a bitch for writing that fake valentine to me when we were 16. I loved you when you refused to give up on me all our last year of school together when everybody else already had. I loved you when I saw you walking through downtown Hawkins last Christmas catching snowflakes on your tongue. I loved you all this week when you stayed by my side, when you gave me the honor of truly getting to know you. I loved you when I fell asleep, and I loved you when I first opened my eyes in the morning, every day, every minute, every second for the past nine years. I was made for loving you Y/N Cunningham, and it scares the absolute shit out of me."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak. She was in a complete state of shock. Eddie was in love with her. He loved her just as much as she loved him. Y/N desperately wanted to move, show him how much she loved him in return, but she was frozen where she stood. She finally gathered some nerve to speak, but Eddie interrupted her.

"Don't say anything, please." He begged her, "tell me later, after the plan is over. I can't... I can't be distracted either way. I just needed you to know that I love you, so fucking much." Eddie placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and turned to walk into his bedroom. Y/N followed mindlessly into the room, still stumbling from the confession she heard moments before. He was right, it wasn't time for distractions. They needed to follow through with the plan exactly. Her head was well aware of that, but it didn't stop her heart from pounding in her chest like a drum. She saw Eddie reach for his guitar, an exact replica of the one he loved so much above.

"So, what do you say sweetheart," he winked, "are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?" Y/N felt the corner of her lips tug on her face, and she didn't hesitate to walk straight towards Eddie and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Want me to throw my bra on stage, stud?" Even in the dark, Y/N could see the delicious blush bloom on his face.

"If you did that, I'd throw you over my shoulder and drag you right back inside this trailer. Psycho demon bats be damned." He said as he swung the strap of his guitar over his neck.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

Eddie threw his head back, a groan barely escaping his throat. He mumbled something that sounded awfully like I'm so fucked under his breath, before he turned to look at her again.

"Let's go, my self control is dwindling fast, and we have a job to do." Eddie walked past her and out the door, Y/N giggled to herself and followed closely behind him as they made their way to their stage of the operation.

"Initiate phase three." Robin voiced over the walkie talkie.

"Copy that, initiating phase three." Y/N plugged in the amps and raised the volume up to max. It was show time. She looked over to Eddie, giving him the signal to start playing. He ripped off the guitar pick necklace he wore around his neck and walked over to the center of the roof.

"Cunningham sisters, this is for you."

Then Eddie began to play, and Y/N was seriously considering throwing her bra on the makeshift trailer park stage. Watching him perform was righteous. He slammed the opening chords of Master of Puppets, rivaling the skill of James Hetfield himself, she couldn't take her eyes off him.

The red flash of lightning struck down near feet away from the trailer, its light illuminating the metallic rings on Eddie's fingers. She watched as they danced across the strings of his guitar, dexterous, rhythmic, and firm. The heavy vibrations from the amp made her tremble, every inch of skin shrouded with goosebumps. Y/N had never seen him look so in his element. It was as if this wasn't show meant for a diversion, but rather a concert held within Madison Square Garden, filled to the brim with adoring fans.

"Go Eddie!" Y/N screamed. She might not be the crowd he deserved, but she sure as hell would cheer him on as if she was. Another bolt of lightning flashed, reflecting the light on her binoculars. It was then she remembered she was meant to keep an eye out for the bats. She didn't want to stop watching Eddie, but she knew she had to do her part. Y/N peered through the lenses, off to the distance she could see the swarm of bats flying towards them.

"Eddie!" She didn't need to get his attention, his eyes never wavered from her form when she first screamed his name. "We have to lockdown in 30 seconds tops!"

Eddie nodded in understanding; the beat of one her favorite Metallica songs remained steady as he continued to play. Y/N kept her eye on the bats, the massive colony was heading straight towards them just like they planned. She could feel her heart pounding with the rhythm of his guitar as the distance between them and the monsters in the sky became shorter and shorter.

"20 seconds!" Y/N watched from the corner of her eye as Eddie nailed Kirk's guitar solo. When all of this was over, she was going to demand him to play this again. No demobats, no Upside Down, no distractions. She'd get on her knees and beg if she had to.

"10 seconds!" The bats were closer now, she didn't need the binoculars to see them. The loud high-pitched squeals could be heard over the music.

"Five!" Almost there, they were almost there.

"One!" Eddie finished with the solo in the nick of time, he swung the guitar over his shoulder and raced towards Y/N. She grabbed his hand as they made their decent down to the trailer.

"Move, move, move. Let's go!" Eddie shouted as they ran towards the fortified entrance. He pushed Y/N through first and slammed the metal gate behind him. The demobats attempted to push through, but it held. For now.

"Come on Eddie! Get inside!" Y/N grabbed onto the back of his leather jacket and pulled him into the trailer. She latched the door tight, the deadbolt firm and secure within the metal walls. Eddie was panting against the wall of the trailer, the fingers that were once spread across the B.C. Rich fretboard were now resting on the bridge of his nose. Y/N watched his chest expand and deflate as he took in deep breaths of air. His head was thrown back against the vine covered wall, the thick veins on his neck glistened in the dim light of the Upside Down. He looked absolutely debauched.

"So, what did you think sweetheart?" Eddie asked as he slightly turned his head towards her, "Most metal concert ever, amirite?" The sounds of screeching bats were drowned out by the husky tone in his voice. A tempting smirk spread across his lips, and Y/N knew deep down in her soul that the time for resisting wicked temptation was over.

She took three steps toward him, each one filled with fiery determination. Eddie didn't have time to react, couldn't think a single thought before Y/N pressed herself against him and crashed their lips together. She was consumed with the need to touch him, taste him.

It took only a second of hesitation before Eddie switched their positions and pinned her against the wall, his lips moving in tandem with hers. He reached down to grab the back of her thighs and lifted her up, instinctively wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. She didn't want a single inch of space between them as he devoured her.

Eddie kissed her as if she were the elixir of life, filled with heady desperation and unrestrained want. She opened her lips to let out a small gasp, only to feel him thrust his tongue into her mouth. Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling the strands as she held on for dear life. She couldn't get enough of him. Her head was repeatedly screaming Eddie, yes, oh God. Nobody had have kissed her like this, and she never wanted to go without his touch ever again.

Eddie briefly pondered the thought that he died on top of that trailer. He must have, because the taste of Y/N Cunningham on his tongue was nothing short of heaven sent. There weren't enough words to describe the feeling of her body pressed against his own. Sublime?Awe inspiring? Hot as fuck? Nothing could compare to the reality. He could feel her heart pound against his chest, his own threatening to beat out of its cage of bone. He could feel every gasp, whine, and wanton moan that escaped her lips; he swallowed them all. It was nothing short of a miracle.

He didn't know how much time he spent kissing Y/N, could have minutes, could have been hours, he didn't care at all. Eddie was oblivious to the world outside of his trailer, the only thing that mattered was her, her, her. Vecna could be outside the door asking for half a cup of sugar, and he couldn't give less of a shit if he was. It had been nine endless years of yearning in silence, loving the girl wrapped around him from a distance. Y/N was loving, touching, squeezing him like she would never see the sun rise again. Deep within the Upside Down's realm of perdition, Eddie was graced with something holy. How could anyone ever accuse him of worshipping the Devil when he never felt closer to God?

Y/N briefly pushed away from him, he immediately chased after her. It couldn't be over, not yet. He could feel her smile against his lips, small and delicate. She held his head in her hands, tilting up away from her mouth. Eddie would have been embarrassed by the needy whine he let escape if he weren't so desperate to kiss her again.

"Eddie, I-" She was interrupted by a series of thumps on the roof of the trailer. They both looked up to see what the noise was, suddenly remembering they weren't alone. Y/N jumped down and grabbed the shield and spear she previously dropped, Eddie clumsily following suit. They followed the sound to a small vent in the ceiling, the holes between the fan's blades elicited a sobering realization, they missed a way in.

"They can't get in through there, right?" Eddie asked quietly. Before Y/N could reply, the head of one of Vecna's bats pierced through the vent, letting out a haunting shriek as it tried to worm its way in. Eddie and Y/N screamed as they both charged to stab the bat with their spears. More kept shoving their way through, the blades of their knives barely keeping them at bay.

Eddie stepped back from the bats, Y/N couldn't see what he was doing, too preoccupied with her frenzied stabbing.

"Eddie! I need you!" She screamed; she couldn't do this alone. They would get in, they would get through the gate to Hawkins, Hell would be unleashed.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way!" Y/N could barely hear his shouts of protests as he shoved his way through. Eddie stood upon one the old kitchen chairs, the exact replica she used with Chrissy, to penetrate the nails through the ceiling walls. She could hear the bats bang against the metal, but the shield held true.

"Holy shit. Holy shit." Eddie panted, eyes wide and frantic.

"My hero!" Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, carefully dropping her weapons so she wouldn't hurt him. He wrapped his arms around her, snug and familiar, breathing into the top of her hair.

"That? Oh, that was nothing." Eddie tried to sound cool and composed, but his breath hadn't returned to him yet. It came off as gauche rather than debonair. They could both hear the bats screeching above them, obvious that they hadn't given up on finding their way inside.

"There aren't any more vents, right Eddie?"

"Oh, shit." Eddie ripped himself out of her arms and raced to his bedroom door. Y/N quickly chased after to him to find the swarm of bats bust through the vent in his floor. He pushed her back as he slammed the door shut, but the bats weren't deterred. They began bashing against the wood, their thick claws threatening to break it apart.

Eddie picked up the spear and shield she had abandoned as they backed away from the impending swarm.

"I don't think that’s gonna hold!" Y/N shouted.

"Let's go! Let's go!"

Y/N pulled on the bed sheet rope and began her ascent towards the gate. Her arms were sore and tired, but the adrenaline pumping in her veins forced her to keep moving. Keep climbing.

"Come on sweetheart, quickly quickly!" Y/N was inches from the gate's opening as Eddie guarded below. Within seconds gravity took over, and soon she fell flat on her back. Eddie's old mattress cushioning the blow.

"Eddie, come on! We have to go!" She shouted into the ceiling. Eddie began pulling himself up but paused halfway through. Y/N could see him stare at the door, the force of the bats attack against the rapidly deteriorating wood echoed throughout both trailers.

"Eddie?! Eddie baby come on, let’s go!" Y/N protests fell on deaf ears as she watched him stare at the cracking door. The all too familiar feeling of panic settled deep in her bones.

"Eddie, my love you're so close! Come on, come on, we have to leave!" She could only watch in horror as he jumped down to the mattress. Eddie looked up at her, his hands still gripping the rope. His eyes were wet with unshed tears, but he didn't look morose. There was anguish, heartbreak, yes, but mostly filled with determination.

"Eddie?"

"Eddie!"

"Eddie please! What are you doing?!" Y/N sobbed, but he refused to listen. Eddie rushed over to the spear and shield, yelling at the top of his lungs as he sliced the rope clean at the base of the gate. The fabric fell gracelessly to her feet, and suddenly she knew what he was doing.

"Eddie, stop! Please! Please! Please! Stop it right now!" She was begging, pleading for this all to be a nightmare.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop!" She was completely helpless as she watched Eddie remove the mattress from his side of the gate. The shield in one hand and spear in the other. It looked like he was charging headfirst into battle, and she knew that was exactly what he intended to do.

"Eddie! Come back to me! Please!" He looked up to her, one last time, before he made his final move.

"They're gonna break out. I'm buying some more time. I love you Y/N, never forget that." All she could do was watch as he rushed towards the door, right into the horrors of the Upside Down.

"No!" Y/N screamed, it felt as if her heart had been ripped right out of her chest. She was bleeding out, suffocating under the weight of what Eddie just did. Nothing felt real in that moment, tunnel vision clouding her eyes. It was dark. Everything was black, rotting, decaying. Just like it was when Chrissy died, some sick cosmic joke that it would happen again in the exact spot a week later.

It was then she realized that she never said it back.

He ran outside that trailer door not knowing that his feelings were returned.

Y/N never told Eddie that she loved him.

It would haunt her forever.

Author's Note 2: I'm sorry.

Tag list:

@imchangkyunned , @creativedogs , @nightless , @kik51199 , @thecraziestcrayon , @dabzzallday420 , @efvyqrs , @justanotherkpopstanlol , @secretsicanthideanymore , @heartandhead2018 , @piperd06 , @kellysimagines , @writing-fanics , @munchabunch , @ultradangerouspie , @givemeeverything , @mrs-billyrussooo , @mn2222222 , @mslunawinchester , @imnotsiriusyouare , @iwillduckyou-up , @coltonthekanima , @mcueveryday , @mvnsons-slvt , @esoltis280 , @bookworm3570 , @preciousbabypeter , @kikis-writing-world , @sweetpeapod , @cevans-winchester , @hopingforromanoff , @nativity-in-black , @esoltis280 , @celestialsxturn , @peaches-and-plums-motherfucker , @sighbuckybarnes , @magicmunson , @lqveharrington , @introvertedmouse , @science--hoes ,

[sargeant-bxrnes]

one night, two consequences: final part. [rafe cameron]

part one part two

summary: rafe couldn’t stop thinking about you; you couldn’t get him out of your mind. neither could ignore the heartbeat that tied you both. and for the consequences of that night, decisions get made.

warnings: cursing, drama, angst, pregnancy mention, rafe being slightly possessive, slight dirty talk, smut, (semi public) sex, car sex, rafe being nice, happy ending?? ig

word count: 5.K

here’s my masterlist!

Three days had gone by since you revealed the truth to Sarah.

Three days since you and Rafe had had that... argument? Discussion? It was hard to tell what it had been, but it hadn't been nice and it definitely hadn't solved any issues. Your heart raced whenever you thought of him, and despite your resistance to admit it, it stung. The memory of his words ached in your heart.

At the moment, you were in The Wreck, the restaurant owned by Kiara's family. The friend group was all gathered in a table, having dinner while talking, having a great time.

Your eyes crossed paths with Pope's, and you offered him a small smile, the one he returned seconds later, although it wasn't as bright and cheerful as it would've been before.

To avoid hurting him, or putting responsibilities that didn't belong to him on his shoulders, you'd decided to put some distance between you and Pope. It didn't mean you two would stop talking or hanging out, but it wouldn't turn or evolve into anything else. He'd been comprehensive, but you couldn't ignore the sad expression that casted over his shadows every time he saw you ever since.

You'd done it for his well-being, you didn't want to drag Pope in the mess that your life was about to turn; and hopefully, someday he'd forgive you for it.

"And I got fired." JJ deadpanned his story of the day, eliciting mixed exclamations from the group, John B found it amusing, while Pope and Kiara found it concerning, Sarah and you shared a look, trying to hold back a laugh.

"You got fired for locking yourself in the fridge to ice cream?" John B questioned in amusement, taking a sip of his drink. "Sounds about right."

"It was worth it," JJ assured proudly, not bothered at all by his foreseeable lack of job, and therefore, money source.

"Rocky road?" you asked him with curiosity. That was the only ice cream you considered worthy getting fired for.

"Rocky road." JJ confirmed with a wide smile, constantly nodding his head.

Next, a discussion about types of ice cream ensued. The group was having a lively discussion when the door of the restaurant opened; which caused y'all to lower your voice to avoid making the customers uncomfortable about the Rocky Road vs. Oreo discussion.

However, this customer didn't care about the ice cream discussion, he'd visited the place with one intention only, which is why he didn't hesitate to speak.

"Y/N, we need to talk."

The group fell silent as soon as Rafe's voice cut through the room, they shared looks of confusion among themselves; wondering what issue it was that Rafe had to talk to you about.

You swallowed nervously, but didn't move from your place, you wished he had been a little more discreet in doing this; but there was no turning back now. Rafe had walked into The Wreck while everyone was dining in your company, and had asked to speak to you, without taking his eyes off you.

"C'mon." Rafe added as soon as he noticed the hesitation in your expression.

You sighed and stood up, your friends stared at you in a mixture of confusion and surprise, but no one said anything.

They were aware of the fact that your relationship or... whatever it was with Rafe was confusing, you two claimed to not stand each other, but Sarah herself had noted she didn't quite believe it.

Without another word, you opened the door of the restaurant and walked out to the cold night, Rafe walked out right behind you, placing a hand on your lower back so he could guide you to where he wanted you to go.

Sarah, on the other hand, had her eyes narrowed as she watched you two walk away, her eyes moving from her brother to you, and back to her brother. And that's when she connected the dots. It all made sense. Why you and Rafe were avoiding each other, why you got so nervous whenever she mentioned him, why Rafe had gotten drunk as fuck exactly three days ago... Sarah knew.

In silence, you and Rafe walked to wherever he wanted to go, he kept his hand on your lower back, and that's how he guided you to where he wanted to talk; the only reason you followed him is because you didn't want to have this conversation in close proximity to the restaurant either, the more distance and the less likely you were to be overheard, the better.

A minute later, you saw Rafe's truck (in reality it was his father's), parked in an abandoned parking lot, so you understood that that's where he wanted to go.

Once you were there, Rafe intended to get in the truck, probably to drive somewhere else, but you wouldn't go anywhere with him, you could talk there just fine, the place was deserted and two blocks away from anything else in the vicinity.

Rafe noticed that you wouldn't get in the truck, so he rolled his eyes and walked to your side, standing in front of you in silence as he put his thoughts in order.

It was awkward. Very. The last time you'd seen each other you'd ended up yelling at each other, and the time before that, you'd fucked.

It was impossible to predict what would happen tonight.

Rafe must've ran his hand through his hair at least 4 times before deciding how to start; he figured the best way to do it was to go straight to the point. The last thing he wanted was another misunderstanding to happen because he sucked at explanations.

"I wanna be here." Rafe spoke up firmly, wetting his lips out of nervousness.

You waited a couple of seconds before saying anything, hoping he'd explain what he meant by that, but he didn't.

"Meaning?" you asked calmly.

"I'm not letting you do this alone, Y/N." He stated, his eyes trailing down to your belly. Even though there wasn't any big, or noticeable changes there, it was still there.

"Oh, so now you offer your support? I thought you 'didn't give two shits' about what I did." you replied with a huff, folding your arms over your chest.

"Well, turns out I do care."

"Making me feel terrible was surely a good way to show it." you muttered. You didn't mean to be pathetic or a crybaby, but his words had had more impact than you'd like to admit.

"I freaked out, alright?" Rafe replied honestly, placing a hand on his chest, his blue eyes travelled over your face; that's when he realized his words had hurt you, even though that hadn't been his initial intention. But then again, he sucks at explaining.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock."

"Y/N," he closed his eyes and sighed heavily, determined not to let your sassy, sarcastic act piss him off like it normally does. "that baby is mine, yeah?"

"I'm aware."

"And I'm not letting your uh—your hatred for me or whatever that is to get in the way of what I'm supposed to do." he complained. His tone wasn't precisely hurt, or angered, but he wasn't nice about it either.

"Hatred? You think that's the reason why I hadn't told you the truth?" you asked with a raised brow, and he didn't say anything against it. "It's you. You are the reason I tried to keep it a secret."

You didn't want your words to hurt him, or make him upset, but you wanted to let him know the truth as raw as possible. He had been the reason you hadn't told him about the baby, his attitude, and the noticeable lack of father material.

"I'm not following..." he admitted, scratching his jaw.

You sighed and looked down for a few seconds before raising your head and staring at him in the eye. "D'you have any idea of the mess we got ourselves into? I highly doubt you're up for it."

"How would you know?" both of his eyebrows were raised, Rafe took a step closer to you, making you take a step back.

"Because I know you, Rafe." you mumbled.

Perhaps things weren't as clear for him as they were to you, but it was unlikely Rafe would be up for being a father. You'd never pictured Rafe as a father, not for another 5 years at least.

"You see what you wanna see," he complained, pointing at himself, as if to emphasize his own words even more. "Am I not here? Asking you to let me help you with the baby?"

Touché.

"So," you paused for a few seconds, just for the suspense. "you're telling me, you wanna be a father?"

"Not just that," he clarified, taking a small step closer. "I wanna be here for you."

"Now I'm not following." you admitted, unsure of where this conversation was going.

Rafe huffed at your words, and an expression of disbelief shadowed his features. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if there was something you didn't know, or something you were missing in the conversation.

"Do you really think I'm just- just going to let you walk around with anyone, knowing that you're carrying my baby?" his eyes were narrowed, as he took more steps closer to you. "That I'm just gonna sit there and watch you date someone else?"

"But-"

"Tell me! Do you really think I'm gonna let you go just like that? Fuck no. I want all of it. I want you."

Was he serious? A part of you wanted to believe him desperately, however the other side was scared of being played and fooled.

Besides, why admit it now? Why hadn't he said something like that the very same night you two got laid, or being brave enough to say it the next day? Or any other day? Why on Earth had he chosen to say it like this, and at that moment?

"Rafe..."

Your lack of reaction to his words, and overall, your lack of reciprocity angered him. He felt like an idiot, it had taken him so much courage to say those words, and your only reply was his name?

"What?" he was slightly aggressive. "Is my level of commitment still not enough for you?"

"It's not that," you shook your head.

"Don't try to deny it," he took a step closer, your back now pressing against the door of the car. "I know you feel it too. You feel something for me, yeah?"

As much as you would've liked to say 'no', you couldn't. Your heart was racing; and you felt your cheeks getting red a this closeness. You couldn't deny how he made you feel.

You could've lied to him and said that you hated him, but your body would always betray your words.

"So why the fuck are you fighting it, hm?" he raised an eyebrow at you, his voice slightly mocking. "Aren't you tired of pretending you don't want me as much as I want you?"

"I think there's someone else." You lied because the truth is, there wasn't.

You wouldn't drag Pope in this mess, he still had a scholarship to take care of, and he deserved better than someone as messy as you.

"Huh," he wetted his lips and nodded his head, but it was an angry nod. "someone else."

"Yeah..."

"And do tell me, does that person know?" he questioned you, taking another step closer, so this time he was standing right in front of you, his body pressing ever so slightly against yours. "Do they know that you're pregnant and the baby is mine?"

"No."

"Then don't waste this," it almost sounded like he was begging you. " Don't waste us trying to chase something else, Y/N."

Before you could even reply, his lips were pressed against yours, his hand on the back of your head as your back pressed against the truck's door.

Due to the surprise, it took you a few seconds to catch up with him, but you eventually did, wrapping an arm around his neck to draw him even closer, if possible.

His tongue trailed over your lower lip, silently asking for a way in, which you gave by parting your lips and allowing the kiss to get deeper, and more desperate.

He placed a hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin while your fingers absentmindedly tugged at his hair, demanding for more.

He was the one to pull away; his blue eyes dark with lust, his reddened lips parted as he regained his breath.

'Fuck it' you thought.

You bit your lip mischievously, placing a hand on Rafe's chest to push him away just a couple of steps, enough for you to reach the door handle and open it.

Rafe had been thrown off by your actions at first, but once the truck was open, he smirked and walked back to you, helping you get in the back of the truck with ease, and of course, slapping your ass on the process.

He closed the door behind himself and quickly, his lips pressed against yours as your fingers fidgeted with the buttons of his shirt, the light from the lamppost nearby was barely enough.

His hands had quickly slid over the oversized t-shirt you wore, his anxious fingers finding your breasts, twisting your nipples enough to hear a moan escape your lips.

Rafe had been maneuvering his way to get on top of you, but that wasn't your plan. So before he could do anything else, you stopped him by placing your knee against his chest.

"What is it?" he questioned you.

You'd been so sure about it, but now that you had to verbally say it, y'know, out loud, it got stuck in your throat. The way he was looking at you made you want to be completely at his mercy, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.

Truth is, Rafe had you at his feet.

"I... wanna be on top."

"Huh," he smirked, almost looking satisfied by your words. "You wanna ride me?"

You nodded your head eagerly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud, he'd get plenty satisfaction already.

"Alright," Rafe nodded his head and sat back, so this way you could move and let him lay down. "I'm all yours then."

You faltered for a couple of seconds at his words, but didn't allow your mind to linger too much on it. It probably meant nothing.

Without a word, you got rid of the rest of your clothing, being internally grateful for Rafe's tinted windows. For a while, he just stared at you, feeling himself hardening in his pants but doing absolutely nothing to get undressed.

It wasn't until you looked at him with a raised eyebrow that he reacted; and he could've sworn he'd never taken his clothes off as fast as now, not even when you pulled a prank on him by telling him there was a bug in his shorts when you two were younger.

Not wanting to waste more time, Rafe hurried up to help you get on top of him, being careful of not hitting your head on the truck's ceiling or slipping out of the seat.

You wrapped your hand around him, holding it tight and giving his dick a few pumps, it's not like he needed to get any harder, but you wanted to tease him.

"Keep that up," he warned with clenched teeth, throwing his head back against the seat, the veins in his neck popping out as his abs tensed. "And-"

"And?" you questioned teasingly, pumping him slower now, running your thumb over his tip and down the side of his length and over the vein.

"Oh—fuck," his hips jerked closer to your hand. "Stop that."

"Why?"

"Wanna be inside you when I come," he grunted, gripping you by the wrist and pulling your hand away from his dick, using the same hold to pull you closer. "so bring your pussy over here and stop messing around, yeah?"

Such a gentleman. As always.

You carefully lined yourself up with him, you were so wet already that you knew he'd slip right inside you, even if he hadn't done anything to you just yet. But once again, you had to admit teasing Rafe Cameron was so much fun.

Rafe audibly groaned under you when he noticed you were stalling, you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head when you brushed against his tip; and quickly understood why the bastard enjoyed making your eyes roll. It was so fucking hot.

But enough was enough. Without another word, you sank down on his length, both letting out loud groans of satisfaction.

Rafe's hands found a place on your hips as quickly as you pressed your hands on his chest to keep balance.

You remained still for a couple of seconds to adjust yourself, Rafe's eyes were fixed on you, the way your skin seemed to shine under the light that filtered through the windows, and just how focused you seemed in taking his dick without showing how much you were actually enjoying it. But he knew you were enjoying it, he could feel you clenching around him already.

His mind was formulating some snarky comment, but before he could spit it out you started to slowly, but surely move your hips in accord to what you needed.

Soon you found your rhythm, bouncing up and down on his dick, your nails clawing slightly on his chest while he held to your hips tightly, trying to move you up and down to the rhythm he preferred, but you didn't let him.

You clenched around him every time you moved your hips up, and it never failed to make him let out a groan. With every sharp thrust of his hips from below you, you felt his tip touching the spot deep inside you that only he seemed able to find.

Although he was enjoying himself, Rafe soon enough caught up with your intentions, with your actions rather. You were using him. Pleasuring yourself with him. And although the mere thought of it could've made him cum, he would not let you play this game alone.

Before you even knew what was happening, Rafe sat down with you still straddling his dick, took a firmer hold of your hips and started to move you down while his hips moved up, his pace was quick, and his thrusts were deep, almost desperate.

He pressed kisses against your skin, whenever he could make them land though, as your bodies kept moving in sync, so quickly and strongly that you were almost sure the truck was moving as well.

One of his hands let go of your hip to sneak between your body and his, the tips of his fingers aiming for your clit, starting to circle it as he observed your expression, proud of the mess he’d done out of you.

"Look at me," Rafe’s voice was firm, but it didn’t stop your eyes from rolling out of pleasure, he grabbed you by the jaw and made you look at him, right in the eye while he's still thrusting mercilessly. "no one's ever gonna fuck you like I do, you know that, don't you, princess?"

It didn’t matter how much you wanted to, you could will any words with sense to leave your mouth, all you could do was moan and mumble his name.

Your literal lack of words was satisfactory enough for Rafe, his fingers circled your clit faster, and soon enough he started to chase his evident release.

Sensing you were as close as he was, you started to clench your walls around him and trying to make your movements deeper, which seemed to work wonders by the way Rafe’s breathing picked up and his groans got huskier.

Not too long after, the movements got erratic and the speed turned unstable, you clenched your walls one final time around him as your release washed over you, and the way you wrapped perfectly around him prompted Rafe’s own release.

His lips were jerking while he rode out his release, his fingers held an incredible grip on your hip while his face buried in your neck, and it was the overwhelming mixture of feelings that caused him to speak without thinking twice about it.

"Oh fuck... I love you.” he mumbled over the skin of your neck as his thrusts slowed down to an almost stop.

"You what?" you asked him, your voice barely above a mumble as you caught your breath.

"You heard me." Rafe replied with one last thrust of his hips, stilling underneath you, while being still inside you.

"Say it again." you didn’t know if you wanted to hear it again to convince yourself he’d said it, or because it felt great.

"I fuckin' love you." Rafe admitted, his eyes finding yours quickly, his head was still lowered, so he was looking at you through his lashes.

Rafe was terrified. Terrified of the way he’d just blurt it out, terrified of his own feelings and yours, or rather, possible lack there of.

"I love you too, dickhead,” you admitted as well, placing a hand softly on his bicep. And of course, such confession had to be balanced with some attitude, so you added something else. “but you still annoy the hell outta me tho."

"Huh.” he seemed proud and somewhat relaxed, but you could tell he was holding back a laugh by the way his lips curled.

"What’s so funny?"

“Nothing.” he shrugged with ease, wrapping one of his arms around your hip.

"Rafe?" you raised an eyebrow at him; making him roll his eyes.

"You say I still annoy you while my dick is still deep inside you."

"So?"

"It’s like you're trying to make me fuck the attitude outta you." he said, pretending to be careless and unbothered while he flicked one of your nipples, to then twist it softly between his fingers.

It was tempting, but you were exhausted.

You shook your head while a smile appeared on your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, and even if it hadn't been your initial intention, you ended up hugging him out of tiredness.

Rafe froze under you, not being used to this type of affection. His hands were hovering over your body, insecure if he could touch you or not. But since you didn't move, Rafe realized that maybe reciprocation is what you expected.

He wrapped his arms around you, and slowly started to lie back down, making sure you're comfortable while lying down on his chest.

You weren't sure of what he was doing at first, but once you caught up with it, a little smile made its way to your lips.

Rafe was trying to be nicer, he really was. And it was nice as much as it was scary. Y'know, because you were used to Rafe being a dick.

You made yourself comfortable by placing your head on his chest, one of your arms over his chest as well, and a leg wrapped around his hip. He placed a hand on your lower back, keeping you close.

"That day... it came out all wrong." Rafe began, but you didn't say anything, giving him time to explain. "What I wanted to say was that I didn't give a shit about what you chose to do 'cause it would be fine by me either way."

"Really?" you asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, didn't want to force you to choose anything you didn't want and make you hate me forever." he admitted, his voice being so shy and feeble it seemed like a mumble.

"Nice to know."

"Why? Have you made up your mind already?" Rafe asked, moving slightly so he could look down at you and stare at you.

"Yeah," you nodded your head and looked up, he deserved to know this and keeping eye contact wasn't a bad idea. "I'm keeping it."

"Alright..." Rafe said, wetting his lips as he nodded his head repeatedly, as if he were trying to convince himself of what he heard.

You could feel his heart beating erratically inside his chest. He was either excited or scared, probably both.

But so were you. Having a child was exciting but also the most terrifying thing ever. Especially having a child with Rafe out of all people.

"And I also wanted to tell you that..." he paused while he moved again, more out of nervousness than necessity. "I've wanted you for years and it had been driving me fucking nuts."

A little smile crept its way up to your lips, you moved your body to between his legs with your arms at the sides of his body while you carefully laid down again, so this way you could look at him in the eye and know how serious he was about it. There was no mocking, no sarcasm. He meant it.

"But you had to throw a tantrum and storm off before I could say it, didn't you?" he continued, although this time it was more of a complaint, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"In my defense, you were being a dick. An aggressive dick at that." you defended yourself with an amused smile.

"And in my defense, I had just found out I'm going to be a father. at 19. I was fucking terrified, alright?" he justified himself, placing his hand on his chest as dramatically as he apparently could.

"And are you, still?"

"Yeah," he paused again, his eyes searching for yours. "but... maybe, if we do this together, it won't be so bad."

"Together as in..." you trailed off, expecting him to finish the sentence for you.

"As a couple."

"Is this your way of asking me out?"

"Of asking you to be my girlfriend." Rafe assured firmly, his hand moving from your back to your hip.

"You're not really asking, y'know, cause you're not making a question." it was hard to keep a laugh back but you managed to do it, speaking as seriously as you could.

"You're not gonna make me ask the question, are you?" he questioned you with a raised eyebrow.

"I wasn't, but since it seems to bother you so much, I will." you admitted with an amused smile, being unable to hold it back.

"Grow the fuck up, Y/N."

"Sorry Rafey, no question..." you started, moving your body up so your face was inches away from his, mumbling over his lips. "no nothing."

He rolled his eyes and wetted his lips, placing both hands on your hips and guiding you to sit down softly on his lap. "Be my girlfriend?"

"Just that?" you teased him playfully, trailing his body with the tip of your finger, all the way from his bottom lip, down his chest, his defined abs and as low as you could go, feeling him shiver with pleasure underneath you. "where's the effort, pretty boy?"

"Ugh fuck. Please?" Rafe couldn't believe the leash you had on him already. "be my girlfriend."

"Now that's the way to go," you said in amusement, patting his chest, slowly moving away from him. "kind of."

"Where are you going?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised as his hands remained on your hips for as long as they could before you slipped out of his grasp.

"Was your plan to stay all night here, in the back of your truck?"

"With the view I've got right now?" he questioned, nodding his head at you while his eyes were clearly and shamelessly focused on your breasts. "yeah."

“Well, maybe you’ll get some of this later,” you teased while reaching under the seat, searching for something to clean yourselves with. “but only if it’s on a bed.”

“Why, scared of getting caught?” he teased while inching closer to you, getting an old golfing shirt of his from under the seat, and starting to clean your legs with it.

“Scared of bumping my head against the ceiling,” you joked while you let him clean the mess. “That would be a terrible way to go, by hitting my head against the ceiling of a truck while you fuck me.”

“Sounds to me like there are worse ways to go.” Rafe teased, purposefully gracing closer to your entrance, making you hiss due to how sensitive you still were.

While talking about trivial things, you and Rafe dressed up; he insisted on keeping your panties in his pocket and promised to return them once you were under his bedsheets.

Smartass.

“So... how are we gonna tell them?" You asked him, letting your eyes linger on his hands for a while longer while his fingers wrapped around the wheel.

"I have no idea,” he admitted with a sigh, to then shrug. “it's not like we owe them any explanations anyway."

"Then it's settled, we'll do this together.” you said, trying to convince yourself and testing the waters, trying to see how honest he had been about it earlier.

"I won't let you down, alright? I’m- I’m gonna be- I’ll be the best version of myself,” he glanced at you briefly, placing one of his hands over your thigh, squeezing with affection. “I’m gonna get my shit together for you. I won't let him or her down. I promise you."

He looked like he meant it; and you fervently wished so.

You wanted this, you wanted all of it. You wanted Rafe.

It’s probably the best consequence you’ve ever gotten after a reckless night, and you were happy with it, happy with him.

taglist: @imthunderstxrms • @galxctix-blog • @k-k0129 • @abrunettefangirlnerd • @24-martie • @sarahwasfound • @notdisneychannel • @alrightyaphrcdite • @pogueslandia • @asimpwriter

[koishua]

a conversation by the ruby river.

characters: jay, gn!faerie!reader.

synopsis: a little insight into what being friends with a river faerie is like when you're a simple, curious boy.

length: 0.725k words.

notes: this is the result of listening to a hozier playlist uhh yeah anyways so i have no idea what the rules for writing faeries are, but this is... yeah take this as is idek what i did here haha hopefully you enjoy this brief look into jay and fae reader's cute friendship. this might not even make sense but bare with me here y'all

© KOISHUA 2022, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | REBLOG! FEEDBACK!

Faintly, he hears the songs of the Forbidden Forest lulling the deers awake from their blissful slumber. The leaves rustle as the breeze blows through the sparsely spread out trees, affectionately stroking his warm skin as he treads carefully through the soft grass, mindful of the little critters crawling beneath his feet. He sees the pink clouds floating across the pale blue sky, unseeking of a particular destination. 

The early morning mist settles down by the time he excitedly arrives at a shallow creek, pulling out his sheets of paper all tied neatly down to a worn down leather no wider than the palm of his hand and as narrow as the inside of his palm, perfect to carry around in his secret endeavours in the outskirts of the small town where his house stands, facing the edges of the forest he is now located in.

Jay, carved into the leather bound notebook, is his name. 

He fishes out a wooden handle with a thin piece of metal attached to it, also rummaging through his satchel to pull out a container filled with ink in his favourite shade of blue; dark and azure, just like the eyes of the river faerie the pages of his book is filled by. 

Jay flips the pages to find an empty spot to run the tip of his pen over, already knowing just what he wants to portray. As the songbirds accompany him through each stroke that makes up your face, he waits for his muse to appear before him as always. True to habit, he hears the distinct splash from the river as red as rubies he sits before.

You are there, crouched elegantly over the boulder a little to his right, the stream of water divided into two around the large rock as it continues its journey downwards. Waving a hand at him, you chime a happy “Good morning, boy!”

His eyes train over your iridescent wings, just as mesmerized as the first time he’d seen them. “Hello, Faerie. You look quite ecstatic today. Did you finally get those spotted slippers you’ve been wanting?”

Your laugh rings delicately in his ears, a sweet little tune he adores hearing. To his delight, he hears it quite often whenever he is able to meet you on days like these. The air around you glows a faint yellow when you chuckle, meeting his question with an eager response, “No, but I have got even bigger news.”

Jay leans closer to the riverside, setting his page down with his pen. Equally, you step nearer, magically standing over the calmly running water, not at all disrupting its flow. “Look,” you point at a small insignia on your saturated skin, “I’m now old enough to cross the border. I’ll be able to visit you whenever I gather enough energy!”

“That’s great.” He finds himself hopping onto his feet with joy. “I can show you all of those things I have been telling you about then.”

You nod, dark blue eyes sparkling as though the stars in your irises are swimming in the place called space Jay has heard so much about. “Tomorrow, let’s meet by the Tree of Life, alright?”

Jay nods, pleased by the turn of events. “Understood. Then we can get you some of those pastries I brought with me two days ago and I’ll show you where I live.” 

Your brows set in a worried furrow, “Of course, I’ll have to disguise myself with your help too. I can’t be seen walking around with this hair and these wings.”

Jay, in his buzz, had forgotten about those small facts. Indeed, you’d have to hide your wings, which will be a shame, since he adores the way the light shines through the almost transparent structure. “I’ll see if I can find you some fitting clothes or something to blend you right in with us, but for that, I have to get back earlier, because the shops close soon. It’s a Sunday, so no one works much today.”

“That’s perfectly alright. You can go, I don’t mind.”

“Great, I’ll be back after my lessons tomorrow and bring you the things I could find.” He packs up his little station of items back into his satchel, careful not to smudge the ink that is still drying on the sheet. Sadly, he hadn’t gotten around with much progress on his drawing, but that could wait.

For now, he waves you goodbye and sets off to catch an open clothing shop before the sun fully rises right above his head.

permanent taglist (one). @shekllls @eternallyhyucks @yjwfav @speckled-sunshine @luvningkai @youreverydayzebra @ilandsghost @w3bqrl @candysofthours @moontines @rielleluvs @heefused @squiishymeow @just-uaau @catecita @namjoo-jay @shrutiajit @baekhyunstruly @changmin-wrlds @changminurheart @chewychubchuu @taegicarus @marknaeroni @enhacolor @heelariously @chaebb @nshitae @clarakyunisageek @aeonghaseyo @xiaosimp3 @misah0e @ily-cuz-i @jungwoniics @enha-hwajinna @todorokiskitten @bloom-bloom-pow

[yanderart]

He caught you when no one else did; defeated you when no one else could. Whether you liked to admit it or not, Eraserhead had clearly proven his worth.

So why didn't you prove yours, little villain?

Another portrait for my POV yandere series, this time of Aizawa. Got a few people requesting me to draw/write for him so hopefully y'all enjoy it 🖤

Below the cut, as customary for the series, is a longshot one-shot that delves further into the backstory (Aizawa x Villain Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).

TWs: dub-con, graphic smut, Bad Bondage Etiquette, degradation/humiliation, brat (villain) taming, cumplay and slight bimbofication. Scumbag Aizawa is real.

— — —

   The day you met Eraserhead, looking back, saying your worries had been misplaced would be an understatement. With not being apprehended and losing street cred at the very top of your list, it was decidedly easy to skip over any of the other big red-lettered warnings.

   You first felt the tickle in your nape while you carried your acquisitions across downtown Musutafu, accompanied by the familiar presage of someone watching your every movement. The city around you was bustling, as was the norm, as loud and meandering in its complaints as a chronically diseased elder, yet the alleys you took as shortcuts grew quieter and quieter with each step. 

   It was eerie, alarming, and a platitude of other adjectives you shamefully chose to neglect. 

   “So this is the great V/N in the flesh,” the lazy cadence of someone calling out your alias froze you mid-step, the way his owner dragged each syllable telling you he hadn’t yet decided whether you were worth wasting his breath on. 

   Your body was responding before you even had a chance to properly process the threat, running on instinct and muscle memory as you twirled to face the mysterious man and prepared to...

   “Cute dress, kid.” Eraserhead in the flesh stood barely a few feet away, glowing scarlet orbs illuminating his preternaturally blank expression and transforming it instead into a visage of pure intimidation. “Didn’t pitch you for the frilly type.”

   The growing panic in your chest put a hitch in your breath as you stared back. Yet you couldn’t help but still try, fruitlessly hoping—hands clenched, nails puncturing your own flesh as you tried to force your dormant quirk awake. And all for naught, considering your efforts were only repaid by the hatchet of your sinking realization being buried even deeper. 

   Although, the Pro-Hero also appeared to notice your meager attempts, taking a few steps closer to your form with a condescending gleam in his otherwise somber features. 

   Before you were conscious of what you were looking at (and before you had half a mind to attempt a quirkless attack on the hero), you observed the weapon wrapped around his neck unfolding fluidly, the extensions of fabric reaching out to envelop you in a forceful embrace that left your arms tucked to your sides and your back uncomfortably straightened. 

   “Better to trap you before you get any wild ideas. It’s your fault you’re in this position in the first place anyways,” he was taunting you, prodding you and poking you as you found yourself completely at his mercy, uselessly struggling much in the same way many of your victims had surely felt in their last few moments at your hands. 

   "Eraserhead," his pseudonym resembled an insult on your tongue, your rage and resentment making for rather colorful enhancements. "Don’t you have anything better to do than trapping helpless girls with this weapon of yours? Didn't peg you for a pervert."

   Usually, you managed to reign in some of your nastier attitudes, channeling them into your quirk and the violence you could inflict with it…

   But tied up and under the influence of his own ability as you were? All you had was pettiness. 

   "You can dress up as a civ all you want. Won't be fooling me." He took several steps, closing the distance between you two with barely the hint of a smile morphing his stern expression.  

   You could see the faint stubble on his handsome face from this up close, blood-shot eyes that refused to blink as they studied you in ample detail. Could even see the scar carved onto one of his cheekbones, a textured promise of the fight he had survived and now wore as a medal. 

   Such was your luck, that the Pro to finally catch up with you had to be this rugged scumbag. 

   "I'm not even engaging in any criminal activities, Eraseridiot." Your insult was terrible, but you were never much of a verbal sparrer. Not when you could use your fists instead. "What are you gonna send me to the pigs for? I know my rights."

   And you did. So when the condescension on the lazy hero's face turned into a full-on expression of mockery as he approached your "bag of acquisitions," you audibly gulped. Goddamn stalker couldn't have been following you for that long? Could he? 

    If only you knew. 

   "Then," he held up the bag with an indolent brand of interest, the contents dangling tauntingly from his clutch. "How do you explain this over here? I reckon even dirt like you knows what stealing qualifies as." His other hand dived for the contents and before you could voice any protest, cheeks blushing furiously, a slow hint of a chuckle was bobbing his adam's apple. "It would be a fun thing to peg you down for, though."

   That damned weapon of his didn't give out an inch as you started to furiously struggle, becoming instead impossibly tighter with each futile attempt at freeing yourself.

   "You fucking psycho, is this your sick way of trying to pick me up or something?"

   But your quip did not deter him at all (if anything, it spurred him on). The hand inside the bag tensed for a moment before he was retrieving the sole object inside. To say mortification was written all over your face would be an understatement. 

   A dark pantyhose now hung from Eraserhead's nimble fingers, not a second being wasted by the Hero before he proceeded to bring it up to his face, carelessly stretching the garment until you could see every single one of his features through the sheer material. The way the moonlight caught in it, bouncing off and bathing his patronizing face, made for uncomfortably intimate imagery. 

   (Yet a part of you, one you would never admit existed if further questioned, also could not help but notice the striking attractiveness of it all, making you want to squirm for completely different reasons while the man continued to exert his quirk on you through the fabric of your fucking lingerie.)

   "Gotta say, didn't take you for a pantyhose kind of gal either. Girls like you…" He uttered the last part more like an afterthought, tossing the bag aside before his hands continued toying with the tights absentmindedly. "Are suited for something like fishnets much more."

   By that point, you were sure he was just playing with you. You were such a harmless joke, restrained and showcased like a prize for his viewing pleasure.

   "Reckon you must own quite a few pairs, uh?" He continued egging you on when you failed to give a timely enough answer. 

   (Perhaps the fact that he so easily guessed that detail should’ve been your first real warning, too.)

   Yet you couldn’t help how his condescension and the downright dirty way he stared at you sent dark shivers up your spine, the threat he represented turning strangely alluring under the dim street lights illuminating you both. 

   As a villain, you had robbed, murdered, set people ablaze, and even stolen a popsicle or two from some crying kids. So why were Eraserhead's words having such an effect on you? Why did, a part of you deep down, seemed enthused by the awful way in which he was speaking to you?

   "You don't have any proof I stole them. I just threw away the receipt after I bought them. Very environmentally unconscious of them, too, when electrical ones are a thing."

   Now you were just rambling. What an adorable sight. 

   "Hmm, never thought I'd hear "environmentally unconscious" being uttered by a two-bit criminal." He stopped stretching the lingerie for a moment, thoughtfully scratching at his incipient stubble with his free hand instead, "Are you really trying to sell me the good samaritan angle?"

   To his credit too, he seemed genuinely puzzled by your approach for an instant. Guess even an experienced pro like him still had room to be shocked. 

   "I'm not trying to sell you anything, imbecile." The snobbishly controlled tone of yours was back, the shaking of panic subsiding while you held onto your only hope of leaving this confrontation unscathed. "And my rights clearly state you need proof to apprehend me. Need causality to exert your quirk on me, too, or you would be the one breaking the law." 

   Now, Eraserhead wasn’t annoyed per se. You could tell from what little he had already spoken (and from the myriad of cautionary tales you had been told) that little could rattle the man at all, but your comment definitely appeared to intrigue him. It made you feel like an animal being studied, pinned down, and ready to be dissected for his own morbid curiosity.

   "Isn't this just rich?" His tone was almost lethargic, words dragging on with a faint rumble. "Are you going to run off to the police, then? Tell them how a Pro trapped you and tried turning you in for a very obvious act of theft?", his eyebrows were raised, eyes more awake despite his monotone voice carrying on. "Be my guest then."

   Because of course you were all bark, no bite and he was more than willing to call you out on your shit. So instead of continuing down that route, you decided to veer for a new approach, switching from your assortment of insolent tactics. 

   "Do you get off on this, then?" Your voice morphing into meekness while you adopted an expression of distress, bottom lip jutting out with the sparkle of thinly veiled sarcasm glimmering in your eyes. "Do you like thinking of yourself as the Big Bad Hero, maybe?" And you could tell by the way the incipient smile froze on his lips that your question had caught him off guard. Made you wanna press even harder, "Do you like the idea of taking a defenseless little girl into an alley and showing her just how bad you can be? Maybe planned on teaching me a lesson, is that it?"

   His frown mimicked yours now, no longer any hints of cruel enjoyment on his part. His eyes still glowed red, but he was now squinting ever so slightly, zeroing in on you not only due to the limits of his quirk but also due to the words rapidly continuing to escape your impudent mouth. 

   "Does Eraserhead like to fuck his lays into being law-abiding citizens? Is the power over someone else what really gets you off, perhaps?"

   It was like a spell was cast on the both of you. He couldn't drift his attention, his eyes couldn't stop scanning your face — quickly flickering from the hatred coloring your gaze to the slight quiver of frustration shaking your lips. The hand which he still used to grab your stockings was now a closed fist, knuckles growing pale from the poorly contained strength.

   "Bet you plotted this entire thing, you creep. Wanted to take me behind an alley and show me my place." Your taunts were becoming increasingly more risqué, the anger blurring your sense of preservation—and the hint of something else too, a secret excitement you were unwilling to recognize. "Wanted to have me all submissive and obedient under you, surely. Show me what a scary hero cock can do, is that it?"

   But instead of earning another entertaining grimace, you had a first-row seat to the rapidly darkening expression on his face. Eyes squinted at the same time that the bandages settled even tighter around you, cutting off your breath for a moment before relenting just enough not to suffocate you. 

    And that's when you first felt it for the first time, just when your jests died on your lips and you drank on his foreboding reaction. The grip of Eraserhead's quirk, more constricting than any ropes, wavering faintly around the prison he had constructed around you; the distinct buzzing in your hands returning for a mere instant before flickering out again.

   Now that was interesting.

   "Should watch what you're saying," the pro-hero sounded gruff, voice tinted by a new kind of intensity.

   Like a shark smelling the smallest whiff of blood, you couldn’t help your instincts urging you to dial down. 

   "Always knew you hero types had a hard-on for the power trips. Bet you were using all of this as a decoy. Is this when you strip me and hold me down? When you plow me into the floor of this alley and tell me to "behave or else"?" 

   You knew your jabs were going too far, getting too brazen… yet as much as you enjoyed making the Pro visibly uncomfortable, once he decided to close the distance between you two there was little you could do to stop yourself from flinching. A fire inhabited his expression, the vivid brightness emanating from his stare not only intimidating, but downright frightening too.

   "Are you trying to rile me up?" His hand gripped your face with force, bandages shifting until they were enveloping your neck, holding you up and forcing you to reciprocate his glare, "What do you think will you achieve by antagonizing me even more, V/N?"

   You just looked at him through your eyelashes, still somehow managing to play up the innocent act through the layers of fear settling in. And as expected, it only served to further his irritation, calloused fingers digging even deeper into your cheeks and coaxing the claws of terror to continue trailing their nails all around you. 

   "I’m just trying to understand you, Eraserhead." The way you smiled at him was defiance personified despite it all, your tongue wetting your lips while you caught his eyes following the movement. There was the slightest give of his quirk again, a fluctuation in his concentration informing you that you were finally on the right track. "And I think, given the fact that I haven’t been cuffed yet, that we can both still come to a mutual agreement."

   Fingers twitched around your jawline, muffling your words while your sides were squished together harshly. But even manhandling you, the Hero couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes, an interest you foolishly believed to be ignited by your former comments. 

   "So you are indeed trying to rile me up then." It was an assertion, not a hint of doubt in his leisure intonation. 

   Instead of replying this time, you just slowly blinked his way, observing your imitation of meekness reflected in a gaze that refused to abandon yours. It had been so long since you last tried to play coy, so long since you needed to depend on anything besides your own strength and ruthlessness. You couldn’t help the thrill you got from playing the role. 

   "Think you’ll get me distracted enough to break away, I bet." He was whispering directly against your skin after getting dangerously closer, the heat from his cushioned lips provoking an involuntary shiver. "Do you believe nobody else tried this approach before, little villain?"

   You gulped, feeling caught before you even had time to properly set the stage. 

   "I wasn’t..."

   "Weren’t what, trying to seduce me?" There was a sense of levity hidden somewhere under his timbre, stored between words that kept dragging on in a mantle of aloofness. "Or did you not mean any of your words?"

   When you didn’t reply, you could feel the cruel smile resurfacing against your earlobe. 

   "If I lift your dress right now, do you think I’ll have my answer?" His question sounded almost casual, as weightless as your alias had been when he first called you out. 

   Your heartbeat sang in your chest, an anxious hummingbird trapped inside your ribcage. Because you knew the answer, you both did. 

   When the hand still clutching your bunched hosiery came up to press the fabric against your thighs, you could not help the gasp that escaped you.

   "I bet all those things you were just saying…" His tone drifted off as the stockings were slowly guided up the vastness of your legs, fingers barely grazing you through the thin layer of the stolen undergarments. He was thoroughly teasing you, enjoying the manner in which your expression contorted in response. "You just want me to do them to you, don’t you?"

   Even if you would’ve wanted to object, the pressure of his nylon-covered digits finally reaching your dampened panties was enough to kill any possible refusal. He traced the outline of your slit, soft touches running across it with deceitful lightness, and your mind became positively staggered as you were rendered overwhelmed by his actions. 

   You didn’t have to worry about his next move for long, either, because barely a moment’s notice passed before his entire palm was eagerly covering your crotch. And the new way in which he groped you was demanding, the heel of his wrist putting just enough pressure to drag a shamefully loud mewl from you. 

   The douchebag even had the gall to laugh at your reaction, the sound of his mirth prompting you to writhe even harder as he continued to feel you up through your rapidly soaking underwear. 

   "Knew you’d be a slutty one." His breath was hoarse against the side of your face, the stubble on his jaw scratching against your skin in a way which made you wonder how it would feel pressing elsewhere. "So fucking wet, it must hurt being this eager."

   He didn’t specify what exact kind of pain he meant, whether your growing need for release or the insufferable blow all of this represented to your pride. Somehow, though, you had an inkling that he was referencing both. 

   "Wanna show me just how needy you are?" His words echoed with each laboured breath of his, one of the few signs you had that he was clearly very much into the whole affair despite his detached demeanor. "Maybe you could show me more of your adorable little cries." 

   As Eraserhead rutted his palm against you another time, you found your hips lowering down to chase the feeling much to your own chagrin, more moans making their way out of your panting mouth while he coaxed you to sing the notes of his preferred melody. 

   It was true that you hated his guts… but another fact was that you hadn’t had action in a long while either. Even with the threat of imprisonment hanging over you, you could not deny how desirable the idea to get to cum against that veiny hand of him was, to grip those muscular shoulders as you reached the perdition he was so tantalizingly offering. 

   Decidedly forgotten was your plan of you being the one distracting him. For fuck’s sake, you really were a needy whore. 

   "Why not show me how you cum for me in this alley, if you’re really that desperate?" His words kept getting cruder, his tongue tracing a languid stripe from your earlobe down to the side of your neck, a beautiful path of distractions threatening to dip your sanity even lower. "Be the dirty little villain that I know you are, doll."

   But just as soon as the stimulation was hitting you a second time, so it suddenly disappeared. One second fingers were flexing against your tender flesh, coated by your arousal through the layers of fabric separating you and fluttering with the promise of an impending release, and then the very next instant you were left to whimper (a villain like you, actually whimpering!) in the unbearable wake of their absence. 

   When your eyes searched for the Hero’s again, in his blown out pupils you could only dare interpret part of the enjoyment he was getting from watching you scram for his touch, beautifully bold handwriting spelling out arousal for all to read.  

   Watching you so easily betray your own ego after all of your lip service? More than simple music to his ears, it was an entire sonnet. 

   "But, now that I think of it, you were the one trying to walk away free from this. So why should you be the one getting pleasured?"

   Even in your precarious situation, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 

   "Are you fucking kidding me?" Apparently, your discomfort at being denied was enough to forego your better senses.

   The bindings contracted around you in quick response to your insolence, your neck being craned even further and your arms mishandled until they were behind your back instead of at your sides, a sharp pain blooming from your shoulders as you struggled to adjust.

   Treated like this, he really did make you feel like a helpless little doll. (Goddamn, that thought alone was enough to have your juices gushing again, the trails of your excitement starting to make a mess of your inner thighs.)

   "You don’t get it, do you?" He asked in a despondent voice, unblinking eyes still refusing to abandon your face as he elaborated, "you should already be on your way to some second-rate villain prison, cuffed and muzzled and someone else’s problem."

   At his reminder of what you believed to be your impending fate, the mocking pout on your face transformed into a retelling of real horror. Because your spotless reputation was the one trick in your book that had managed to give you a sliver of notoriety over the rest of the unremarkable criminals, much more significant than any quirk or grandiose crime. 

   So for someone like you to lose that? You might as well hang up the villain costume and retire, for all anyone would care. (And yes, you had been called an attention whore a lot throughout your life, but who could blame you when you couldn’t help but thrive on it?)

   Sensing your spiraling thoughts, the Pro raised his eyebrows in an almost pitiful stint, as if he was truly empathizing with the agonized look of your face. 

   "I know you don’t want that, doll." As his declaration dragged on, the grip that had been steadying your jaw was swapped instead for the peculiar feeling of damp fabric —your pantyhose being pushed against your cheek and spreading your own juices around, all while Eraserhead intently studied the new wave of disgust coloring your features. "So why not show me that even a villain slut like you can behave? Give me a reason to believe that and..." The slickered garment was now pressing to your closed lips, your eyes starting to water with the weight of the humiliation you were being made to endure. "Maybe then I’ll consider letting you go."

    You knew he was lying, had every right to doubt the sincerity of his promise and, in its place, conclude he just meant to take advantage of you in your desperate state and then leave you for the pigs to find anyway. 

    You knew all of that, and yet you still opened your mouth and allowed him to do as he pleased. When he worked the pair of soiled stockings inside, you had troubles recognizing the pathetic sight being reflected your way from the wild hue of his gaze. 

   For someone who had always prided herself in being a predator, you had never looked more like prey.

   "Fuck, that’s it, doll." He pushed the piece further with his fingers, forcing you to stretch your lips until your jaw started to hurt from the strain. His fingers swirled inside, pressing the soaked material against the flat of your tongue and instructing you to eagerly lick it.

   You had never felt as debased in your entire life, being forced to choose between savoring your own arousal while tied up in an alley or ruining a reputation you had fought so earnestly to maintain. 

   (And yet your thighs were pressing together now, attempting to create some meager friction to alleviate a yearning that did nothing but shift, demand, grow.)

   "Look at you cleaning up your own mess," he almost sounded proud of you as you kept dutifully sucking, his other hand brushing your hair away from your shoulders in a strangely consoling way. "Seeing you all obedient like this, one could be fooled into thinking there is yet hope for reform."

   By the time the Hero finally took his hand away, bunching up the stockings before fitting them into one of the hidden pockets of his dark costume, you thought you could discern a mocking smile through the clouds of tears.

   "But now, now, doll… are you gonna keep crying or do you wanna try and take proper care of me next?"

   Not finding it in yourself to raise your voice again, you instead opted to wet your lips hesitantly as you awaited for him to elaborate further. There was a question dying to be asked, struggling somewhere alongside the myriad of insolent retorts and insults you wished you could swing the Hero’s way without being harshly reprimanded. 

   "I wouldn’t call that proper exactly," a chuckle reverberated from the back of his throat, gravely and dark as he misrepresented your movements. Fingers still slick from your saliva caressed your bottom lip, massaging it in a way which played straight into the undermining tilt of his words. "Although I’m sure you must be dying to wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Would give you a good reason to stay quiet, uh?"

   You really had been intending not to fall for his obvious goading, not trying to give the Pro anymore reasons to be harsh with you (or even worse, give him an excuse to leave you alone and to a fate worse than his company ever would be). 

   Had tried so hard too, but the cocky villain in you could only take so much degradation before it snapped. 

   "Goddamn it, are you trying to fuck me or bore to death?" As for the slight quivering in your voice, you dearly hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. 

   Predictably enough, that slip earned you another harsh tug from the capture weapon, your whole body pulled back until you thought you were about to be snapped. 

   "I was just about to praise you for being all sweet for me, V/N." The switch from his pet names to your alias felt like a bucket of ice being dumped on you, voice a slow drawl while he tugged once more from your bottom lip, but this time harsh enough to have you wincing. "I’m trying to teach you how to be a proper girl, so don’t make me regret it. Or would you prefer to go take a prolonged vacation in a holding cell?"

   He already knew your answer judging by the way his eyes coldly studied you, unearthing the secrets you uselessly attempted to hide with an ease that unnerved you (and, as much as you loathe to admit, fascinated you). 

   When he tugged at your mouth again, nails sinking just enough to be noticeable, you knew he was expecting a verbal answer. And a nice one, at that. 

   "Then fucking get on with it…" Words slurred at the end, caught up in the increasingly somber aura of your captor before you swallow thickly, quickly adding as an afterthought, "Please."

   At that, his scowl receded enough for some satisfaction to find its way back into his grimace.

   The more you struggled, the sweeter your surrender became.  

   "Not perfect, but better," he conceded with a thoughtful hum.

   If you had properly studied just who he was beyond his active Heroism, then you would’ve understood just how accustomed he was to insubordination. If anything, your act only served to make him feel more at home.

   You had barely any time to wonder about whatever he had planned next though, because in an instant that damned contraction of his was moving you around once more, twisting you until you were facing the brick wall of the alleyway with heaving breaths. 

   Your legs were now maneuvered until you were forced to keep them apart just a smidgen, the new inviting space between your thighs surely a most intoxicating promise for the sick man manhandling you. And your back experienced pain afterwards too, harshly pushed until you had no option but to allow yourself to be pressed against the dirty walls; As a result, you found yourself with your ass backed up and for the world to see, the frilly skirt of your dress caught somewhere between all the movements.

   Yet even being roughed up as you were, when a hand reached out to tug your ruined underwear away you couldn't help greedily rutting into it, too worried by the fire gathering in your lower belly to care about maintaining a semblance of the reluctance you would later claim to have experienced. 

   It was almost comical for the Hero to observe the pathetic image you were now serving up on an ornate platter —especially when compared to the list of deviant crimes and horrors your spreadsheet of accomplishments preached. For all intents and purposes, you really were a horrible, messed up individual…

   So it was a wonder why his mind had kept supplying him with the same descriptor ever since he first saw you, the same sweet little word that he thought might as well be written all over your skin for how accurate it described you.

   A cute little doll (soon to be his cute little doll). Despite believing himself to be a fairly responsable Hero, the man had never wanted to play with anything as much as he did with you.

   The sound of a zipper being lowered was alarmingly loud in the emptiness of your surroundings, as loud as a wail to your sensitive ears. When you squirmed below your restraints, nonetheless, you could no longer pinpoint whether it was from unadulterated fear or a sick sense of anticipation.

   How easy it had been to break you, even if you would never recognize it openly.

   "Knew you were into it, and now watch your ass trembling in excitement for me." He was chuckling again, not pretending like the cruelty coating his words had any other intention but to degrade you further. It had been just his luck, to find the one villain who just so happened to enjoy it. "I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, doll?"

   When the lewd sound of one of his fists pumping his cock reached your ears, you didn’t even bother disguising the whines of complaint refusing to be contained any longer. 

   "Stop..." Words spilled from clenched teeth, growled out with an annoyance that no longer sought to defy, "Fucking..." but to demand instead, "Teasing."

   "Hmm, that’s cute. Why don’t you try begging me though?" His cadence was growing as bated as his breath, littered by intermittent curses as his eyes dined on the sight of your glistening core, held up and offered up for him to do as he pleased. "Beg for me to use you, and if you put on a good enough show I might just let you off."

   Another shiver rampaging it's way through your body, an exhilaration that could not be entirely pinpointed. 

   "Please…" You started, rough intonation dripping with venom —But Eraserhead didn't seem to mind the sardonic nature of your pleading though, not as you heard the litany of damnations being spilled from his lips. Your shameful excitement, your bitterness, your hatred… he would feast on it all and do it gladly. "Get on with it, bastard. Didn't anyone tell you never to toy with your food?"

   A low murmur was your only response at first, followed by the lewd sound of his pre-cum covered cock being harshly jerked.

   "Hmmm, aren't you being a bit too demanding…" His steps echoed again behind you, his unoccupied hand coming up to massage your ass with a rather firm grip. "Even with the begging, I don't think you've learned your place yet."

    When he planted a slap in the same place he had been eagerly caressing before, sharp and flaring up your nerves with the sting of pain and humiliation, you couldn't stop your scream from turning into a wanton little moan halfway through. 

   Even if he was hitting you, it still meant he was touching you, and so enticingly close to the place you actually needed tended to.

   "Do it…" your breathing was too heavy to speak in full fluid sentences, body flushed and mind filled with the buzzing of desire. "Do it again, fuck."

   You were still not begging him like he asked, but it seemed like your choice of words still greatly pleased him. Another slap rained on your ass, his big warm palm massaging the same reddening spot right after.

   And he kept going, the spanking echoing through your body and sending both pain and pleasured shivers up your spine—lewd sounds mixing in with the increasing pace of his other fist pumping his cock. Even without directly touching you, your pussy clenched and weeped with each firm hit. 

   "Damn, it's my first time meeting such a masochistic whore." Punctuated by his most painful slap yet, the globes of your ass left trembling and a furious shade of crimson to match his lust-filled eyes. "I can see why you've managed to stay free for so long, little villain." The debasement, paired with the pain of his firm strikes, had you moaning even louder. You couldn't even recognize your own sounds, nor the thrills you felt at this entire fucked up ordeal. "Wonder how many other Pros you showed this beautiful sight to."

   Even through the fog of sensations impeding you from being wholly coherent, though, you still couldn't help but want to set the record straight. 

   "None, fuck…" Words merging into another expectant whine when you felt his hand gripping your flesh again, only this time he was kneading you in an oddly tender way —Urging you on, fingers creeping closer to your needy hole. "I'm not… usually in the business of fucking Heroes. Shit, I hate this…" 

   But you didn’t, and when you were surprised by the warmth of his naked erection barely grazing the sensitive outer lips of your cunt, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you. 

   "Goddamn, V/N, even while you're an ill-mannered brat you still manage to know just what to say." 

   And then the older man was sliding his cock in the juncture of your thighs, teasing your core by pressing against it while grunts began to escape him. You thought you could cry from having him so close yet still not where you wanted him, but then his shallow thrusts against your legs proved to be much more stimulating than you first expected. 

   The fat head of his cock even managed to somewhat stimulate your puffy clit with its movements, pushing in its direction as your essence continued to leak out and cover you both. And It was so absolutely debauched, to think a Hero was using your thighs like a fucktoy while you were tied down and unable to stop it....

   But it felt so good. Even without him actually in you, you had never been this turned on before. 

   "More… ughhh," you were now screaming with the side of your face pressed flush against the disgusting brick walls, needy sounds filling the night and making it privy to your descent into madness.

   Another thrust, this time angled just precisely enough not to caress your pleasurable areas. Punishment, you feverishly thought while you attempted to wiggle your ass, eager to force more of that delicious friction you were quickly becoming hypnotized by. 

   "Now, V/N," his gruff voice had adopted a mocking tone of reprimand as he continued to rut against the soft skin of your thighs. "Haven't I taught you anything, yet? If you want something…" The hand returned to your heated skin, digits underneath you both spreading your pussy enough for the chilly night air to send shivers straight to your core. "You gotta say please."

   And say please you did. Screamed it even, so eager for more and already far beyond feeling any embarrassment. 

   He didn't fuck you, not like you really wanted, but suddenly his thick shaft was sliding between your lips as his capture weapon aided him in angling your body just right, pulsing against your hole while he found a new rythimn. When both of his hands returned, one of them held you back to make the process even easier while the other swiftly joined his cock in tending to your eager pussy.

   So lost were you in the new raw excitement seizing you, in the knowledge of just how messed up you both were for engaging in such debauchery —so distracted that you didn't even notice the faint buzzing returning to your arms, the vibrancy of an old frequency being reactivated and allowed to encapsulate you again.

   (You didn’t notice, but fuck if it didn’t made your orgasm all the sweeter.) 

   You were cumming like that, your moans resembling squeaks, your body feeling closer to a used fucktoy than a human being. The hero kept rutting against you, the joint efforts of his cock and hand mercilessly continuing to abuse your spasming cunt while your cries filled the space with their decadence. 

   You felt dirty, guilty, maybe even a little ashamed as the orgasm briefly gave you a clarity of mind your arousal had clouded.

   And yet, despite it all, it had been the best you felt in years, possibly ever. As the Pro now tugged your hair, forcing you to wrench your neck just enough to look at him over your shoulder, you couldn't help licking your lips in expectation of what he had in store next.

   "You're gonna show me your face next time you come, little villain." He gave you just enough time to nod, eyebrows drawn as your pleasure got impossibly dragged out by the stimulation he still bathed you with. "And you're gonna keep begging me, keep showing me why you deserve to stay free, okay?"

   It was commendable, how collected he managed to sound while thrusting into your thighs like that, the sounds of skin slapping against skin driving each of his words home. 

   "Yes, fuck, whatever you want…" Despite your senses shortly coming back earlier, you were still too far gone to rethink your poor choices. You just knew you wanted more, and so you asked for it. "Just give me more, please."

   So fucking obedient. If your parents could see you know, their failure of a villain daughter being all proper and learning to beg for what she wanted? Well, perhaps saying they'd be proud was a stretch, considering you were also the one getting fucked in the middle of a filthy alley. 

   What you hadn’t expected, however, was just how well your begging would work. 

   Because the next thrust of his shaft was not between your legs, but aimed to finally breach your needy cunt instead, easily filling you up in one go with how utterly soaked in both of your juices you already were. The girth of him had you already clenching with renewed vigor, his hand stopping his assault on your clit just to give you enough time to truly savor the new intoxicating sensation.

   And when your eyes found his again, so drunk on the waves of pleasure you were that you also failed to notice the lack of scarlet coloring the orbs boring into yours, now inescapable voids of dark desire and a type of intense fixation you thought hadn't been there moments ago. 

   (Or maybe it was always there, and you had been too busy with your own turmoil to notice the clues being left by your so-called enemy).

   "Want me to stuff you properly?" His guttural question hit you at the same time as his sharp movements found your tender spot with experienced ease, walls tightening around him while your entire body struggled to continue holding yourself upright, relying more and more on the capture weapon to keep you from toppling over. 

   The binds still hurt from how tightly they wrapped around you, bruises sure to be left on their wake, but by that point you weren't so sure anymore the sting was an entirely bad thing. If anything, it just made the pleasure all the sweeter by comparison.  

   "Want me to fill you with so much cum that you reek of hero cock for the rest of the week?" He laughed while he regurgitated some of your words from earlier, the hand pressing against your lower stomach caressing you with a distinct sense of ownership as he elicited another loud moan with a sharp movement of his hips. 

   Noticing you reacting not only to his actions but to his quips, you could practically hear the self congratulatory smirk as he spoke next.

   "Bet the other villains would love knowing how much of a cockhungry whore you turned into too, doll. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy."

   And he was right, in a way. Because what would your fellow villains think, seeing you being wrecked by one of the most infamous Pros in the business, lowering yourself to pleading and screaming as he rearranged your insides. 

   Would you get called a disloyal whore or just a plain traitor? Not only would your spotless reputation and the myth you had fought to build collapse, but from its ashes your eternal shame could be erected. 

   A shame that would tower over you, looming around you while the eyes of your peers followed you everywhere. You could even picture the jests veered your way, the looks of utter disgust and ridicule...

   Somehow, the idea of anyone finding out only made your screams grow louder, impossibly more fervent. 

   "Fucking… get on with it."

   However, his rhythm was rapidly interrupted after your jab, his cock pulling out almost entirely as your core convulsed with the sudden staggering emptiness it was left to grapple with. More whimpers, struggling against the set of eternally unforgiving ties encasing your body. 

   "But you're making me do all the work, little one" Another slap shook your entire frame as it landed heavily on your still pained cheeks. You were so sore, both from the previous set of hits and from the sheer exhaustion starting to set in, muscles tight and resentful from the awkward positions your body had been manhandled into. "If you really want to continue this, how about you start doing some of the heavy lifting, uh?" Just like before, his palm started massaging the tender spot he had just smacked, fingers digging into your supple flesh being as close to comforting as the Pro seemed capable of. "Show me just how good you can be."

   And you could've argued, truly, could've even attempted to hold onto the last vestiges of your pride…

   You could’ve done a lot of things, but the truth was that when his weapon relented its hold at last, retreating from the underside of your knees and giving in just a smidge for the first time since you had been captured, you didn't waste any seconds before you were chasing after your high with renewed vigor.

   Greedily sinking into him with an obscene sigh, you audibly marveled at the curve of his member being deliciously imprinted in your insides. While you copied the cadence the Hero had previously employed, his grip on your lower belly fluttered, almost like he couldn't decide whether to take control back or allow you to humiliate yourself further with your own zealousness. 

   It seemed like the later prospect won him over in the end though, because he remained almost impassively still as you did all the work needed to bring you both deliriously close to your peaks. 

   The sight must've been spectacular, watching you, renown villain V/N, so thoroughly broken and willing to heed his every command. Impaling yourself on his cock, moaning and continuing to beg him for something you were already taking for yourself. 

   If he died right then and there, he doubted Heaven wouldn't have as much appeal as the scene still unfolding before his eyes. (But again, considering his actions, Heaven wouldn't really be the right place for either of you.)

   You were just about to reach your second orgasm, toes curling inside your shoes, fists clenched and a face that spelt poetic extasis. Angling the way you took his cock, every single movement driving him painstakingly deeper, slamming against a spot that made you imagine the stars falling from the sky all around you, their light being the one bathing you instead of the malfunctioning street lamps. 

   So goddamn close…

   Only to have him pull out again, this time completely. You were clenching against nothing, all stimulation stolen from you, and the bitterness of a ruined orgasm promptly dragged curses and complaints out of you before you could even think to stop them. 

   Eyes searched his, urgently seeking an explanation for his withdrawal only to find his glare fixated instead on that same dirty pair of stockings that had started it all. 

   Eraserhead must have taken the garment out of his pocket sometime while he fucked you, unfolding it from its scrunched up state until the crotch was visibly presented for both of you to admire, dark sheer fabric still stained from a mix of your arousal and spit. 

   When the Pro looked at you again, a beautifully dark smile topped his attractive face. He looked painfully content, the way he studied your own mortified expression reminding you of an artist studying his masterwork. 

   "Only the truly obedient ones get their cunts filled." You noticed then how his other hand was jerking him off again, erection rubbing against the nylon undergarments in a most obscene depiction. Too bad you were too frustrated to appreciate any of it. "I don't think you've… hell, you haven't earned it yet, V/N."

    You didn't even notice you were tearing up from the annoyance until it was too late. And maybe that was what finally did it, seeing you actually crying at his refusal to breed you like the slut you both knew you were, writhing in exaggerated despair as you found yourself feeling jealous of a stupid pair of tights, because not long after your pathetic reaction the man was letting out a pained groan of his own and spilling himself all over the damned garment. 

   But instead of rubbing your wailing in your face after he came down from his own delicious high, last few spurts of cum slowing down to a halt, you were surprised instead by the weapon that had been binding you for the longest time finally retreating.

   As expected, you unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, feet now unprepared for supporting your weight and your entire being wholly exhausted after enduring the roughest fuck you had ever experienced. It hurt all over, although you weren't sure whether your still present longing wasn't what pained you the most. 

   When you looked up to the Pro again, trying to find an answer to the new freedom you were experiencing, you were surprised by having the cum-dripped stockings thrown in your face. 

   And quite literally so, the still wet seed dribbling down your cheek and into your trembling lips, all before you collected enough wits to grab the offending item and pull it down with an expression of unadulterated disgust. 

   "Sorry, doll, but you were pouting so irresistibly," The Eraser user actually laughed, this time the sound coming with an untroubled merriment you did not think he was capable of.

   He actually looked worn out while he tucked himself back into his costume, accommodating the pieces of clothing until all hints from your ravenous affair disappeared. The bandages were wrapping themselves around his neck once more, looking more like an extravagant scarf than the most precise set of inmovilazing gear you had ever endured. 

   However, something about his attitude had you forgetting all about his newest slight, much too worried by a new cause of worry. 

   "Hold on..."

   Eraserhead looked down at you from his place after you raised your voice, urging you to continue as he finished getting himself presentable. The air of nonchalance around him was almost more intimidating than any of the actual threats or vulgar comments he had voiced prior. Almost.

   "Are you…" you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, voice still raspy and hoarse after what had just transpired. "Are you really letting me go?"

   The man just raised one of his eyebrows at that, eyes crinkling for the first time and looking strangely amused. 

   "Doll, I stopped exerting my quirk on you while I was still teasing you good and proper," he declared bluntly. When his orbs glimmered again, you now felt like an imbecile as you finally realized they had completely lost the reddish hue to them. "So you know what? I thought you deserved to get an out of jail free card for behaving yourself… even if you still need to work some more on your manners."

   To call your shocked expression dumbfounded would be a disservice. 

   When his now bottomless eyes bore into yours for one final time, all you could do was stare back in dazzled shock. Your quirk was back, the Pro himself had just confirmed it, and yet you were still nailed to the spot, still anticipating his next words without even thinking of attacking him in the meantime.

   One little tumble and you were already his brightest pupil yet. He was now so glad to have waited that long, it only made the outcome all the more fulfilling. 

   "You don’t need to be so surprised, Y/N, we'll be seeing each other soon,” He kneeled in front of you for an instant, both hands reaching out to hold up your face in a gesture more resembling a lover than… well, whatever the hell you two were. So entranced you were then, that the use of your real name barely even registered. “It’s been difficult to keep you away from trouble thus far,” his acknowledgment reverberated in the alley, its meaning something else lost to you as you couldn’t help but become entranced by the new peculiar softness he addressed you with, “but getting you like this now, seeing you break so easily… fuck, I’ll mold you right back up, doll, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”

   And just then, for the first time you realized, the Hero’s lips were brushing against yours gently, uncharacteristically careful as he kissed you slowly. Even his hands were tender while they guided you, treating you as if you truly were a doll that could just be snapped with a mere wrong movement. As if he hadn’t just been treating you like a dirty hole for him to use and abuse just short instants ago. 

   But at least he did not seem to care about the mess that was your face at the moment, about the cum stains or the still damp trails of tears. And, for whatever reason, you found yourself returning the gesture in kind, melting into the oddly affectionate touch of a man you were still halfway sure you loathed. 

   Even after he left you, alone and a mess still toppled over on the floor with the shadow of humiliation cloaking your shoulders, your fingers couldn’t help but touch your lips with a bizarre mixture of bewilderment and horror.

   He told me I would see him soon, your mind supplied as you found yourself irreparably fixating your stare on the pair of now completely ruined tights you were still holding onto. The fact that you felt any type of excitement about the notion did not fail to mortify you. 

   God, even for villain standards you were fucked. 

But it was okay, because misery loved company and, with time at his disposal and the right amount of coaching, Shouta was sure he could teach you to properly crave his soon enough.

— — — 

And, 8k of foul smut later, if y’all read through that whole thing... drop by my ask to recieve your congratulatory gold stars! ⭐ (jk but I do appreciate hearing y’alls thoughts, it’s what keeps me halfway productive 🖤)

Last but not least, very special thanks to my best pals @reinawritesbnha​, @snappysnapo​ and @drxwsyni​ (who actually proof read this and helped me out immensely with her Big Brain Feedback. A TALENTED ANGEL). 

[kim-ruzek]

To build a life, let us share our past

Summary: Adam takes Kevin with him to pick out an engagement ring, wendy and Nicole comes up and Kevin tells Adam he needs to tell Kim about her.

Fix-it, technically.

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: So many little things would be better solved is Burzek just communicated, so I'm writing fix it fics for them all! I hope y'all enjoy!

“You’re going to ask Kim to marry you?” Kevin stares at Adam, with shock and disbelief. Adam likes to think he can read his best friend’s face expertly—maybe not as well as Kim, who has known Kev for longer, but well enough—and if Adam knows Kev, then he knows there is also amazement and love in his expression as well.

Adam hopes there is, at least. He hasn’t been with Kim long, just a year, as of last week. This is fast, Adam knows that. But it’s real, and he knows more than he’s ever known anything else that Kim is his future, his ‘One’. And Kevin’s their mutual best friend, his approval means more than anyone else’s to Adam and Kim, and Adam knows an engagement wouldn’t feel right to either of them if Kevin had problems with it.

“I love her, man. She’s it.” Adam says simply, hoping to infuse the words with all his love, respect and care for Kim.

“I know you do, bro. The two of you together... You know you two are my family and I couldn’t be happier,” Kevin is a man of little words, but every one is from the heart, and Adam knows how earnest he is.

“I’d say congratulations but that’d involve Kim having said yes, so I know you’re not just telling me this.” No one could say Kevin Atwater is not a smart man, or a quick minded one.

“I need you to help me pick out a ring.” Adam tells him.

“Me?” Kevin blinks.

“Yeah. I don’t, this ring stuff is confusing. And you know Kim, you’ll know what she likes.” Ensuring that Kim gets the ring she deserves, the ring she’ll wear for years to come, the ring she’ll love, is something that is important to Adam, is needed. And so much jewellery looks the same to him, but he knows, knows, that Kevin has more of an eye for this stuff.

“We did used to window shop, on our slower patrol days,” Kevin muses. His words rings a bell inside his mind, a vague recollection of Kim telling him that when she was talking about stories from patrol. He had forgotten all about that, but now he feels even more confident in his decision to ask Kevin for his help.

“So you’ll help me?” Adam smiles hopefully at his friend. Kevin grins back, pulling him into a hug.

“Yeah, of course I’ll help you! Let’s go pick out a ring for our girl.”

The ring shop feels daunting, glass cabinets everywhere, jewellery of all kinds inside, and well dressed employees standing, waiting. The store feels delicate, and Adam feels way too out of place. Too tall, too broad, to masculine.

Deciding to go on a quiet day that they’re on call feels like a mistake now, Adam being way too aware of his gun on him, and how clunky it makes him feel. The only times Adam’s, really, been in a jewellery shop has been after a robbery, and without glass broken everywhere and no cops swarming the place, he feels like an imposter, like he doesn’t belong.

Of course, he’s been in shops like this before not related to work. The times he’s gone to buy his sister, or mom jewellery, and of course when Wendy’s best friend, Sara, dragged him to the store to point out which ring Wendy wanted. Those times didn’t feel as tense, as suffocating, as if everyone is staring at him like this does, and Adam can only attribute that to being because this is so much more important than those times, that he’s aware this could put a spanner into an otherwise good relationship, that he has so much more to loose.

Kevin is beside him, and Adam’s glad once more that he invited Kev to come along with him as his presence is calming. Logically, it feels like he shouldn’t, Kevin is taller and broader than Adam, and his presence also feels too big and clunky for this delicate store. But Kevin doesn’t seem the slightest bit fazed, and that calms Adam’s nerves.

“Here,” Kev leads him to a counter with rings on display underneath. Adam tries not to focus on the worker giving them a look.

Kevin had picked out what store to look at, saying of course they could look at several, but that Kim has mentioned she’d want a ring from a smaller, more ethical shop. Adam recalls conversations like that as well.

Adam looks down at all the different rings, feeling overwhelmed by it all. He has a roundabout idea of what to get, nothing too big or flashy—that’s not Kim’s style, especially in their line of work, you don’t want something like that while interacting with criminals—but something simple in its beauty. Like Kim, Adam thinks. To him she’s flawless, effortlessly, and so, so beautiful.

“This is so hard,” Adam groans to Kev, running a hand through his hair.

“Take your time, bro. It’s a process, just don’t stress.” Kevin calmly says back. Adam looks at his friend, speaking again as he remembers the whole purpose of him inviting him along.

“You seen anything?”

“I’m here to help you. And I will. But you know her better than anyone, even me, so just look yourself first. We have time. We can come back.” Kevin reasons.

“Right, right. I don’t know, man, it was easier with Wendy. She had already picked out the ring herself, and her friend told me which one. But this? Kim deserves the best, I just don’t want to get it wrong.” He laments.

The experience of picking out the ring for Wendy wasn’t exactly a magical experience or anything particular special. He showed up, rung his card, and that was that. And at the time he was grateful for the simplicity of the whole matter, and although right now a part of him wishes this was that easy, Adam knows, deep down, that as stressful as this is, he prefers this experience more. That he’s involved, that he’s excited, that he knows beyond everything that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Kim. This is everything that experience wasn’t, and Adam knows he would take on all this stress a million times over for Kim.

“Nikki was even easier. I mean, 40 dollar ring, impulse proposal? Guess though, this just says I’m getting it right this time.” Adam continues to muse out loud. Kevin gives him a strange look.

“Nikki? Were you engaged to another girl?” He questions and Adam is reminded that although it feels like he’s known his best friend forever, they haven’t even known each other two years yet, that there’s things he wasn’t around for. Adam’s social circles up until he was pulled from the academy was the same he had for years, and Kev’s met a few of his mates, so Adam forgets that Kevin and his friendship is still so recent.

“Yeah, I was. When I was like twenty, for like three months. It was a train wreck. A drunken thought took seriously,” Adam explains.

“I get you, bro.” Kevin says, but still, he’s looking at him curiously, a thought clearly on his mind. “Does Kim know?”

Adam raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh, I don’t think so? We don’t really talk about that stuff.”

“Do you think you should?” Kevin asks pointedly. Adam frowns.

“It was years ago, why should I? There’s no point just randomly bringing exes up,” he dismisses.

“Bro.” Kevin gets in front of him now, redirecting his attention from the rings. “You’re picking out an engagement ring for her. She needs to know you’ve been engaged twice before you propose. Because it will not go well if you don’t, trust me. I know you don’t mean anything by it, but this can quickly become a big deal.” Kevin’s tone is loving, caring, but firm.

“Just think about it. You were engaged when you met. You propose after a year. She finds out you had another fiancée. I know you love her, I know you’re meant to be, but just think about it from how it could look from her perspective.”

Oh.

Kevin’s words are wise, and realisation, and understanding of what Kev’s getting at, dawns on Adam.

“Yeah. Yeah, good point. I’ll tell her tonight.” Adam immediately agrees. “Just need to make sure not to tip her off to why I was thinking about my exes,” he grins at him.

“That’s a difficult task. She’s a quick one, Burgess is.” Kev replies, grinning himself. “But I’m sure you’ll find a no doubt disgustingly cute way to distract her.”

As his best friend, Kevin has unfortunately heard way too much about the inner details of their lives, details that since Kim is basically like his sister he’d have rather not known. But Adam can only focus on feeling sorry for him for a second, as he’s distracted, his eye catching sight of a ring in another counter.

“Kev. Look. This one.” Adam points it out to him, knowing, feeling, deep in his heart, that he had found The Ring, the one perfect for Kim. And by the looks at Kevin’s expression, his awe and smile, Adam thinks his friend agrees with that.

“That’s perfect.” Kevin grins at him.

“So, movie or tv?” Kim asks him as she adjusts the temperature on the oven. It’s the evening, and they’re at home—at his place, technically speaking, but he’s here and she’s here, which makes it home.

Kim had beat him home as usual, had let herself into his apartment like she always does, like they always plan, like they do automatically now without so much of a thought as their lives become more and more entangled with each other. She had already showered and gotten out of her work clothes by the time he had gotten home himself.

Kim’s dressed casually, lazily, only in some of her leggings and one of his old shirts with her hair tied up in a bun that’s coming undone. It’s a simple look, a no thought look, a behind the scenes, after look, a look for when Kim just wants to relax, to not be officer Burgess or even really a person, just Kim. A look for when she’s just her, unwinding from the day—a look only he is privy to.

Intimacy isn’t just knowing what the other likes in bed, how to make them blush, or what their favourite colour is. It’s this. It’s how they are with you in down time, the simple and unguarded way they are around you, how you’re not really no longer another person but almost an extension of themselves, that they can be who they are with no doubts or anything needing to be held up or any illusions to be set. Just them.

Adam wouldn’t exactly class himself as a romantic, far from it. And before Kim, he had seldom noticed these thing, not taking much note of the significance of it. It wasn’t important before, now it is. Maybe perhaps because Adam’s a cop now, he sees such things and it’s given him an appreciation for these sorts of things. Maybe because Kim was shot, Kim was kept captive and beaten, and being with her as she healed gave him a whole new look on what intimacy and love truly meant. And maybe it’s because Kim is his one, his reason for being, the beat of his heart.

Kim is an over thinker, in the most adorable of ways, and Adam thinks that if she was in his mind right now, her thoughts would be churning, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he started to appreciate things like this, because that’s who she is. Adam, he’s an over thinker in his own, different kind of way, but not this, this, Adam spares no real thought on it.

He doesn’t care about the whys, just what is, and he’s just grateful that whatever the reason is that these are things he notes now because getting to embed this memory into his mind, embed how his heart flutters at the thought of their causal intimacy with one another forever into his memories, is something he’s so, so appreciative of.

“Adam?” Kim calls to him, bringing him out of his mind, and to where she stands, still in the kitchen, waiting expectantly. “Movie or tv? And don’t think you’re going to be able to pull the tired card, you know the rules. One of us picks movie or tv, the other picks what it’ll be. Not one of us deciding both.”

This is how their evenings go now. When Adam was in his early twenties, the thought of having such a routine, of staying in most nights, of this normality, would be a suffocating one, but now the thought of spending his days like how he did is the suffocating one. That the thought of spending the rest of his days like this, with Kim, eating their dinner together and just cuddling, is one that fills him with content and his mind how back to the purchase made earlier, of the ring they picked for her, of how he imagines it’ll look on her finger.

“I’m not trying anything,” Adam replies, smiling at her. Anyone else, perhaps, that would make them let it go, but Kim narrows her eyes at him, questioningly, as if trying to suss him out.

“But darlin’, today, I was thinking,” he begins, his heart beating quickly as he hopes this will come across as casual as it’s meant to be. Hoping that she won’t realise there’s a deeper reason behind his sudden curiosity, of him bringing this up.

“That’s dangerous,” Kim has a glint in her eye. And Adam, despite himself, despite how she’s teasing him, smiles at that because goddamn, he loves this woman.

“Ha ha,” he replies dryly, before adjusting himself as he prepares to say his next sentence. He’s sitting on the sofa, but facing backwards, leaning his arms of the top of it so he can look at her as he speaks.

“I was thinking, with how we got together and all, you know we didn’t exactly go through the typical new relationship stuff. Like the ex talk and whatnot,” Adam hopes, prays, that his tone remains stable, casual, that he hasn’t activated that excellent cop instinct of hers and that she’ll sense there’s something deeper driving this conversation.

He wants to halt, to stop this, to not go near any topics that will tip her off to him having brought a ring, but Kev’s words echo in his mind and he knows he has to. Has to, if he wants to make sure that when he puts that ring on her finger, it stays on. Kevin is her best friend, the man Adam went to for help with the ring because no one else knows her this well, and so Adam takes what he says, his advice, very seriously.

“Hm. I guess we haven’t.” Kim says. There’s a slight guardedness to her tone and Adam wonders if there’s perhaps a deeper reason behind them not having this conversation before, besides them beginning the relationship in the way they did.

There’s a part of him that’s curious, that needs to know everything about this incredible woman, but there’s also a part that hurts, aches, at the thought of what possible bad experiences she could’ve had with exes, that has made her tense slightly in such a way. A part of him that wants to just reassure her that his bringing this up is not to dig into her past, but for him to share his, so that they can build a future.

“Well, you know about Wendy, obviously.” Adam cringes at having to mention his most recent ex, at the memory that he was in a relationship when he first got into her. Wendy is seldom mentioned, a part both of them would prefer to forget about, him particularly, with his assholeish behaviour—not his finest moments, that’s for sure. But he has to, has to start the conversation so casually like this is just what he thought while at work.

“Hm. Yeah.” Kim is just mindlessly reorganising things in the kitchen now, a tale-tail sign that she does not appreciate the reminder. Adam focuses on keeping himself calm, casual, so that he doesn’t accidentally start an argument.

“What about you? Did you date when in the academy?” Adam asks.

“I was busy. I’m a woman and all, I had to be the best.” Kim replies and he almost flinches at the edged tone to her words. Adam wonders if it’s still because him bringing up Wendy, or something else, and everything in him screams abort mission but he needs to, needs to, tell her about Nicole.

“What about when you were a flight attendant? Did you date much?” Trying to keep his tone light and not too curious, too pressing is proving hard, especially when this has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with him.

“A little.” She’s reorganising the cabinets now. Her tone is guarded, cool, and Adam’s split between whether to continue from where he is or if he should go hug her. Not wanting to make her think that he’s wondering about her clipped responses—knowing Kim, that’s even more dangerous territory—Adam decides to stay put, no matter how much his arms ache to have her in them.

“What about high school? At work, seeing all these teenagers insist their adults just remind me of my own teenage antics,” Adam offers up his own past a little, putting the attention back on him. There’s a lot of ‘teenage antics’ in his history, not much of which he’d particularly like to get into, but if Kim asks, he will. Because she’s clearly uncomfortable, and he’s doing that, and so he’ll be uncomfortable instead. He’ll do anything for her.

“I bet, canaryville,” Kim turns to look at him, smiling, her tone light for the first time in this whole conversation. Adam seizes the opportunity.

“God, the things I got up to. I wanted to be a cop, even back then, although I didn’t think it was in the cards. But you wouldn’t think it. I was canaryville through and through.” He reminisces. “The Beverly in me came out in my twenties, although canaryville, I’ll always be a canaryville boy. Got me the job, so there’s that. There was a time though that I really could’ve became very canaryville.” This is all stuff he’s touched on before with Kim, but she’s listening, intently, to him, because she always regards as whatever he says as important, just another reason he so desperately wants her to be his wife.

“I was even engaged at one point. Not Wendy, to this girl when I was twenty. You know, real puppy dog love. But marrying young isn’t uncommon in canaryville and well, I was young.” Adam casually drops. Kim was leaning against the counter, just listening, but at that, she pushes herself to stand up straight, staring at him.

“You were engaged? Before you were engaged?” She stares at him, shocked.

“Yeah, for like three months. Got engaged in the summer, we’d called it off by Halloween. We were young, thought we were in love, her mom was pushing her to move to Canada with her and wasn’t taking our relationship ‘seriously’ so we thought hey. I proposed with a 40 dollar ring,” He keeps his tone casual, even still, making sure to avoid details like they had only dated a year. Kim needs to know this, but she’s an over thinker, and if he tells her that and then proposes after they’ve been together only a year themselves, she’ll go into overdrive. That is not what he wants.

“I can’t believe you’ve been engaged not once, but twice,” Kim, thankfully, sees the humour in all this, all her defences dropping again. Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders that this went well, that she’s not mad at him.

“Third time’s the charm, hey?” Kim then says, grinning at him. Only for a second, before what she said registers and the grin has gone, replaced with a deep blush and wide eyes. “I mean, I didn’t mean, like us, not that I, uh—” Kim stumbles over her words, her adorably anxious mind in overdrive.

“Darlin’. Relax. I know what you meant,” Adam reassures her, standing up now to go to her. He kisses the top of her forehead, calming her thoughts, and smiling into her, allowing himself to feel happy that it appears that Kim’s at least briefly imagined them getting married, and that she seems open. His heart feels a little lighter, less nervous and more excited, and more confident in his decision to buy the ring.

“Now, is our food nearly done? Because we’ve got to choose; a movie or tv,” Adam diverts the conversation back, needing Kim to not focus on the thought of marriage too much, not when they’re a few weeks away from the surprise.

A surprise that Adam cannot wait for, which he notes as he watches Kim, smiling at her as she moves and talks to him, feeling more and more in love with her with every passing second.

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 19

[ i promised a listen closer update and by god i will give y'all a listen closer update ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

It was the next week that all the final touches on the big game were complete, and John was ready to let himself inevitably die at the end. Amanda was out collecting Dr. Denlon, having already moved Matthews into the room for his trap. Garrett had already retrieved Jeff Denlon, the doctor’s husband, and had him set up in the crate he would have to escape to get started.

Mark was heading out to get the players in Rigg’s game at the same time Garrett was leaving to get the other parts of Jeff Denlon’s game. Theoretically, that meant they would be back at the same time, despite two of Mark’s players not needing to be brought in. He still had to set up the trap that would start off Rigg’s game, after knocking Rigg himself out.

If all went accordingly, that meant Garrett would be there to help Mark get set up for his role in the game. Mark really didn’t want Amanda to do it, and neither did Garrett.

Garrett probably had it the easiest out of the two of them. He could get all his players at once, since his car was large enough for all three of them and none of them really had a fighting chance against them.

He got the most difficult one first, the one that would be going on the rack. He put up a fight, but Garrett was faster. The second one he grabbed was the Judge, who was actually asleep when he came in. Last, but not least, the witness that did nothing.

Honestly, he didn’t think any of these people needed to be trapped. The crash was an accident, the judge was just doing his job- it’s not like the accident was murder- and the witness was probably just scared.

Denlon, however, deserved this and they, unfortunately, were part of it.

As expected, despite the planning, Garrett got back before Mark. This wasn’t ideal, but it was preferred over Mark getting back first. He was likely still setting up Rigg’s apartment and trap. He doubted it would take much longer, it had been several hours since they first left.

He took the chance to hang the witness up in the freezer room (he felt bad stripping her naked, but he knew it had to be done), chain the judge up in the meat vat (he knew he wouldn’t be able to watch this one), and set the second most important player up in the rack.

John watched him do this, apparently wanting to ensure that he did it right. Amanda stood behind him, her eyes never once leaving Garrett.

Really? She didn’t trust him?

Maybe she should change her mind on killing Lynn Denlon before deciding to be pissy with him.

He glared at her, the sight of his wide eyes narrowing making her visibly uncomfortable. He turned back to the trap, using his shoulder to hold him up as he strapped him in by the ankles. Once that part was done, a hand on his chest held him upright as Garrett strapped in his wrists. Last was his head.

Once that was done, Garrett sent one last glance at John and Amanda, debating saying something to them but being cut off before he got the chance by his phone beeping with a text.

Mark was back, and it was time to set him up.

---

“You know, you look awfully pretty tied down like this,” Garrett teased, tightening the straps on Mark’s wrists a little bit. He’d already gotten the ankle straps done, he was just making sure the wrist ones were secure.

Mark rolled his eyes at the statement. “Yeah, sure. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Oh, he definitely was going to.

Garrett was, rather unfortunately, the only apprentice not participating in the game. John had made it clear that he wanted someone to watch the whole thing at once, in order to make sure that all of the rules were followed. He was not, however, allowed to intervene.

Once Mark was strapped in, he moved on to Detective Matthews. Admittedly, it was rather difficult to get him onto the ice block and not accidentally hang him, but he worked it out.

After finishing up with the wires meant to be tripped and giving the lever that would activate the trap, he took one last glance at Mark, offered him a smile, and shut off the lights.

Art Blank would be arriving soon, and Rigg would be waking up in no time. It was time for him to get to his viewing room.

The door unlocked with a click, and relocked with a higher pitched one. He couldn’t have anyone getting in here- the operation surviving relied on Mark and Garrett keeping up the lie. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t get captured, he needed to put Strahm in his trap.

He sat down at the desk and turned on all of the monitors, not entirely sure how well he’ll be able to focus on all of them at once. If all else fails, he will probably just focus on Mark’s.

Though, he did want to make sure he watched the trap he built for Ivan. He was very invested in how it turned out since it was so much trouble to build.

He hummed a soft tune as he got set up, keeping a weapon close by in case someone did get into the room. He quieted down when Lynn woke up, and sat down to watch the game unfold.

It was going to be an interesting one, that’s for sure.

---

Amanda was starting to lose her cool, even Garrett could see that.

He’d chosen to turn his attention for the time being to John’s part of the game, while Jeff dealt with the Judge. He just couldn’t watch that trap- it was sickening, and that had to mean something when it came from someone like him.

Rigg was definitely taking his time as he went through his own part of the game, which was curious considering how desperate he was to get out of there. He’d only just put Ivan in the trap when Jeff freed the judge, staring at him for a moment before running out of there.

Next was the teacher and his wife, a trap Garrett wished he’d had the pleasure of putting together.

Obviously, he was fond of killing abusers. He had a plan for a game he would put together later with a similar premise of killing an abusive lover that the player just couldn’t leave. It wasn’t a punishment for staying- it was a key to freedom.

He watched as Rigg found the woman and her husband, flinching when she suddenly woke up. His attention turned back to Jeff, who was now entering the room with the Rack.

Amanda had decided to take a break from John’s game, storming out of the room and disappearing from the sight of the cameras. If Garrett had to guess, he’d say that she was probably cutting herself again.

She’d made him swear not to tell John, but even that precaution wasn’t needed because at this point, he wanted her out of the way. She killed with no remorse, and he couldn’t keep her in check like he could with Mark. Unfortunately, she had to go.

Garrett hummed as he turned to Mark’s game, Art Blank just now handing the gun over to Matthews. He watched as Matthews considered killing himself, loading the single bullet into the gun and pressing it against the underside of his jaw.

But, in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Garrett wasn’t sure if he was weak willed, or if he cared enough about Mark to not kill him.

Possibly both.

Rigg was helping the woman down now, putting his coat over her to keep her warm after the blood loss.

As he did that, Strahm and Perez entered the motel room where Ivan’s body lay. Through one of the cameras, Garrett had seen the addict that grabbed him last time he was there pull Strahm to the side, likely telling him in a frantic voice about the man with the wide eyes.

Knowing Strahm, he was going to ignore this completely.

In fact, he probably thought Rigg was the apprentice he was hunting, which was exactly what he was supposed to think.

Of course Strahm seemed angry while talking to Perez about the trap, but then she said something and he shut up. It seemed like it was a suggestion, because after a second, he pulled out his phone and typed something in.

Garrett didn’t realize he was making a call until his own phone started ringing.

“Shit-!” he hissed, not having accounted for the fact that of course Strahm would try to call the only Jigsaw specialist in. But he couldn’t leave, and none of them had time for this. He debated just letting it go to voicemail, but that would be suspicious, so he finally picked up.

“It’s my off day Strahm, I don’t care what kind of trap you’ve just run into, I’m not leaving my damn apartment,” he started immediately, cutting Strahm’s greeting off. There was silence for a moment, before Strahm spoke up again.

“I know, but this is the second trap we’ve come across. It’s a multistage game and-” Garrett cut him off once again, not willing to sit through the explanation of a game he was facilitating.

“All the more reason for me to not come in right now,” he said, glancing at Jeff’s game in time to watch the driver’s head get twisted all the way around, killing him instantly. “If it’s a multistage game, the likelihood of me walking into something I can’t defend myself from is too high. Contractually I can’t go.”

That was actually the truth. Part of the contract he signed when he was hired on was that if a trap was found and the game was still active, he couldn’t look at it. There was far too high of a chance that he could get hurt, and the police couldn’t handle that liability.

Strahm’s end of the phone was quiet, probably pressed against his chest as he spoke to Perez about something. Finally, he broke it. “Fine. I’m not getting fired over you.”

“Oh, don’t be so bitter,” Garrett all but hissed, watching Jeff try to find a way out as Rigg ran through the halls in search of his coworkers. “I have to go. Good luck.”

He hung up, and watched as Strahm got another location and rushed out of there.

Now his focus was solely on Amanda and Lynn. Amanda had a gun with her, apparently, and Garrett could tell that she was close to snapping. Hopefully she’d hold out long enough for Strahm to arrive.

---

Strahm was alone when he entered the building, blood spattered on his shirt and his gun drawn. Garrett watched as he and Jeff both headed for the same room, turning to one of the other monitors and watching Art get shot by Rigg.

He’d enjoyed watching Matthews die, his head crushed by the giant ice blocks suspended above him. Though, he was a bit surprised that Mark managed to avoid any of the chunks that went flying.

He heard gunshots, and watched Strahm kill Jeff. He grabbed his pig mask, and ran from the room, pulling it on as he went. He hid in the next room that Strahm was supposed to find, hidden by the shadows and pressed against the back of a pillar.

Strahm didn’t take long to get into the room, slowly making his way to one of the gurneys. He ran a hand over it, and Garrett rushed out at him, grabbing the back of his head and slamming it into the gurney before jabbing the needle into his neck.

The liquid went in, and Strahm went limp in his grasp. Garrett took the chance to look him over when he wasn’t hopped up on pain meds, humming softly as his thumb brushed over the agent’s cheek.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, he hoisted Strahm onto his shoulder and made his way to the water box room.

It wasn’t long before Strahm was set up in his trap, everything he’d been carrying on him laid out on a small table in front of him. Originally, Garrett was going to plant the pen on him before he woke up, but now… now he wanted him to know that the only reason he survived was that someone acting as Jigsaw spared him.

It’d be quite the ego killer.

Garrett stood in the darkness of the room as he waited for Strahm to wake, giving him a significantly watered down dose of the sedative they used so he would wake up sooner. The longer it took, the more he fidgeted, needing to get outside so he could have an alibi.

Finally, he woke up… and immediately started banging at the glass and yelling for help. Garrett tilted his head at him, watching him thrash until he pressed a button on a remote kept in his pocket, getting the water to flow.

He’d blocked out Strahm’s yelling at this point, waiting until the water was close to his mouth before slowly making his way over to him, the pen hidden in his hand by the sleeve of the jacket he wore.

Strahm froze for half a second before thrashing even harder the closer he got. Garrett pressed his gloved index finger to the mouth of the pig mask, before leaning close to Strahm and slipping the pen into his pocket.

They made eye contact for a few seconds, before Garrett was pulling away and leaving the building. He heard Strahm yell out to him, just barely hearing him beg for him to come back before the door was closed and he was removing anything that would make it seem like he was Jigsaw.

His mask, jacket, and gloves went in the back of his car. He also changed his general clothes at his car, making it seem more like he had just thrown some clothes on in a rush. Then he went around the building, slipping into the crowd at the front.

Once he saw Mark, he started to act panicked, just like he was supposed to. He shoved his way through the people, yelling out for his boyfriend when one of the cops keeping the crowd back grabbed him, saying something about civilians not being allowed past the tape.

“I’m the fucking specialist you ass!” Garrett spat, forcing his way out of their grasp and ducking under the tape and making a beeline for Mark.

He hit his lover’s chest hard, making him stumble back a little, but he immediately felt Mark’s arms around him. “Is everyone dead?” he whispered, looking up at the detective.

Mark just nodded. Of course, he didn’t know that Strahm was still alive, and he’d probably never know that that was because of Garrett. “It’s just us now.”

Garrett pulled him into a kiss to hide his grin from the cameras, one that Mark quickly returned. They both immediately pulled back when they heard someone say that they had a live one, finding Strahm laid out on a different gurney and being pulled into an ambulance.

“Shit,” Garrett hissed, glancing up at Mark, whose jaw had tightened at the sight of the agent. He looked down at Garrett, not angry with him but clearly angry at Strahm’s survival.

“I hope you have a plan to fix this…” he practically growled, his features softening when his boyfriend looked uncomfortable.

Garrett sighed softly, resting his forehead on Mark’s chest. “I always do. It’s gonna take time though.”

“Better than nothing.”

Hopefully, the questioning wouldn’t last too long.

[kyber-crystal]

➳ there and back again || s.r.

summary: it’s just a nice little competition to declare who comes out on top as the victor. what could possibly go wrong?

words: ~1.5k

warnings: a chaotic stevey/nsam trio. that’s it haha

a/n: trying a new layout! hope you guys like it teehee. this is an old oneshot so i apologize it’s poorly written. 

tags: @sunstalgia​ @wxstedhexrt​ @purpleskiesstorm​ @sylvie-writes​ hopefully this won’t flop if i tag a few mutuals teehee

"You boys ready to get your asses beat?" you teased as you tied your shoelaces.

"Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart," Steve warned. "I hate to brag, but I'm going to win."

Sam groaned. "I don't know why I agreed to this. Y'all are both fast as hell. Last time I got so winded trying to catch up with you."

"Winner gets twenty from the losers!" you quickly shouted, and both of your friends' faces lit up. "And also, bragging rights and glory."

"I swear, you people act more like 13 year-olds than 30-something year olds," Pietro commented as he leaned against the fridge, sipping an iced latte. "You making bets over who's gonna beat the other in a race?"

"Yup," you all replied in unison.

"Well then, see ya," he nodded, as you headed out the door.

"Alright," you breathed out, setting your hands on your hips as you surveyed your landscape. "So around Central Park, checkpoint at Cherry Hill."

"Got it," Steve nodded.

You tapped your wristwatch a few times, setting a timer. "Okay. On your marks. Get set. Go!"

You quickly broke into a sprint, feet pounding against the dewy pavement as you pumped your arms and legs as fast as you could go. You refused to look back, knowing that by doing so you'd be slowed down and fall behind both of them.

The scorching August heat was relentlessly beating down on your back, sweat rolling down your temples and causing your tank top and leggings to cling tightly to your skin. You kept going, though, despite your body screaming at you to stop.

Several minutes later you were not far behind Steve, with Sam only a few yards ahead of him as well. He didn't seem the least bit exhausted as he made a sharp turn and continued sprinting down the sidewalk, and if it hadn't been for your excessive training you would've given up within the first five minutes of starting.

"On your left," he said as he sprinted ahead of Sam.

"On your right!" you shouted as you zipped past both of them.

"Damn it!" you heard Sam let out a frustrated yell as he picked up the pace. “To think I was the top of my class in PE...”

"On your left," Steve informed him a few minutes later.

Then again. "On your left."

"Uh huh, on my left. Got it."

You were nowhere in sight at this point, and as Sam was still jogging Steve came around again from behind, starting from a new lap.

"Don't say it! Don't you say it!"

"On your left!"

"Come on!" he groaned. "Why don't you try targeting Y/N?"

Both men stopped for a moment and skidded to a halt, locking eyes with each other.

"Oh, shit."

"Language."

"Whatever. C’mon! We don't have any time to waste. If we lose, Y/N's never gonna let us live this down."

They continued on side by side while still keeping their pace, keeping close eyes and ears out for you; making sure to stay alert at all times.

"Christ, where'd she go?"

"I don't know—"

"On your right!" they heard you shout as you came bursting ahead of both of them, the wind from your speediness whipping them in their faces. "Come on, slowpokes! Last lap!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Sam yelled after you. 

Steve didn't slow down as they were chasing after you but after a bit, Sam grew frustrated and was unable to continue running, sitting down at the edge of the fountain to catch his breath.

"I win," you smirked as you took a sip out of your water bottle, wiping your mouth and letting out a satisfied sigh. "Victory sure is sweet."

"Need a medic?" the super-soldier looked over at the breathless Sam Wilson.

"I need a new set of lungs," he panted, "Dude, you guys just ran like, 13 miles in 30 minutes. Y/N, I don't even know where you went but you literally just pulled an Usain Bolt on my ass, what the hell."

"I guess I got a late start," Steve shrugged.

"Late start my ass," you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest. "Admit it, boys. I'm the champion here."

"Pfft. Why don't you go take another lap."

"Nah," you declined his offer, "I'd rather lounge around in bunny slippers while watching you do my dishes. Oh! And...you both owe me twenty."

They both took their wallets out of their back pockets, reluctantly placing twenty-dollar bills into your palm.

"Thank you," you smiled sweetly, before sliding the cash in your pocket.

"It's your beds, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Your beds, they're too soft. When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground and use rock for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm here at the compound, lying in my bed, and it's like..."

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve finished, "feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor."

"Exactly."

"Also, since I won, you guys have to be my butlers for the rest of the day."

"Since when was that part of the rules?"

"It's always been part of the rules for anyone who wins anything," you defended yourself. "I'd like a piggyback ride all the way back to the subway station."

Steve just laughed and shook his head, bending his knees slightly. "Alright, alright. Get on."

"Hey, I'm just as strong as him!" Sam exclaimed. "You only want him to carry you so that you get a valid excuse to feel his muscles."

Your eyes widened at his statement, feeling a blush rise up your cheeks. "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, hopping onto Steve's back and wrapping your legs firmly around his torso. He hooked his arms underneath to hold you steady, as your arms went around his neck.

"Ew, you're sweaty. You smell. What happened to your blueberry and coffee cologne kind of scent? Why do you sweat so much? But I guess you wearing tight shirts make up for it, since—STEVE! Stop!" you let out a squeal as he leaned backwards slightly, your heart stopping momentarily as you came dangerously close to falling off his back. "You're gonna drop me! Stop!"

Steve let out a laugh, then proceeded to spin around and around to make you dizzy. You let out a high-pitched shriek, most likely catching the attention of a few passerby who wondered why Captain America had the normally serious Agent Y/N on his back and you were laughing like a little schoolgirl with goofy grins on both your faces.

"Say the magic words, then I'll let you down."

"I hate you."

"Wrong."

"We're no longer friends if you don't set me down right now."

"Nope."

"Steven Grant Rogers, you set me down right this instant or I'm going to beat your ass if you don't!" you threatened, kicking wildly and slapping his shoulders. "Let me down!"

"Those aren't the words," he said simply, rather amused by the frustration on your face. 

It was rather cute, if he was being honest.

"Okay, okay! I love Steve Rogers because he's the best Avenger and his muscles are like no other man here in New York! Now let me down!"

"There we go," he chuckled as he released his grip on you and you hopped off, dusting off your clothes. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"Attention-seeker," you accused, "you just wanted to do that so I'd be forced to compliment you. As good-looking as you are, I'm not putting effort into giving attention to someone who already gets so much of it every day."

"You think I'm good-looking?"

"Don't let it get to your head, Rogers," you rolled your eyes, but he could clearly see the pink tinge in your face which he knew wasn't from just running in the scorching heat. This only amused him further.

"If it makes you feel better, I think you're beautiful."

You almost choked on your own spit, going into a coughing fit and hitting your back to try and stop it.

"Don't mind me," Sam cleared his throat, "I'm just here, third wheeling. Or, chaperoning this couple who refuses to admit they're so in love with each other, if you'd like to put it that way. Oh wow, now Steve is blushing. Wow. Amazing. Y/N looks like she's going to faint. Wowwwww. What a beautiful love story. I totally don't feel left out."

"You wanna go for shawarma?" you offered. "I'm starving, and honestly, I could use the time away from Tony. He'll drag us down to play Mario Kart as soon as we get back home."

"Come on! Stop treating me as if I don't exist!"

You both looked over at Sam and laughed.

"I'm sorry," you sympathetically patted his shoulder. "It's quite the burden, dealing with Captain America on the daily."

"Damn right, now that you practically asked him out on a date and are set to become his girlfriend, I have to deal with even more excessive PDA."

"So, this is a date?" Steve raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that what this is?"

"No! It's not—" you let out a sigh of defeat, "well, if you want it to be, then...yes."

"It's a date, then," he smiled widely, kissing your cheek and sliding an arm around your waist.

"How come I never get the girls," Sam grumbled as he followed behind the two of you. "Life is so unfair."

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #462

i am way too tired to mentally flip through lyrics to put here, rip

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) I have zero idea. When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? The last time I visited Sara in Illinois. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I think I got purple highlights? What was the first social media site you ever used? MySpace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? One. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Sara's house is lovely. Have you ever been catcalled? No. Are you allergic to any dogs? I might be. Have you ever touched a plant and had hives shoot up your arm? No. Do you think dragonflies are cool? Absolutely! What’s your favorite thing to draw? Meerkats!! Did you toss your hat in the air at graduation? Not high. I wanted to keep it. Do you like fudge? I CAN FUCKING DESTROY SOME FUDGE. Are you an affectionate person? Very. Name something you have to do today: Girt and I are hangin', making fun of bad Netflix anime and going to Buffalo Wild Wings. :^) Would you ever write to a death row inmate? No. People don't get on death row for no reason. I ain't got shit to say to them. Do you reckon online friendships are real? No fucking shit. Most of my most genuine friendships began online. Do you like Slipknot? Yep. Can we talk about how fuckin BADASS Corey's new mask is btw?????????? What do you think of Gorillaz? I like "Feel Good Inc." and one other song I can't remember the name of. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? BOTH!!!!! :') What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? GUYS I recently saw a picture of a little baby dressed up as a Little Oogie Boogie and it made my ovaries cry. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Jesus, Girt is a giant. I don't know about my shortest... If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you choose? Pastel pink. :') What has been the best night of your life so far? Why? Probably something sexual so let's keep it on the down low lmfaooo Would you ever even think about taking part in a wet t-shirt contest? Uh, no. Even if I WAS confident in my body. Is you hair color the same as it was when you were a baby? No. It was dirty blonde. Have you ever been in trouble for being too loud? Ha, yeah, at school with friends. Not big trouble or anything, we were just hushed. Did you ever attend a wedding that was a complete disaster? No. What is something that you were surprised you were able to do? Hm. What is the most bullshit-sounding true fact that you know? Male cats have spiked penises lkasdjfal;kje;kjwr it's something to do with preventing other tomcats from mating with her. What Oreo flavor is your favorite? Gimme that Double Stuffed, friend. Sour gummy worms or plain gummy worms? SOUR. Ever been in a talent show? How many times? What did you do? Nope. Ever try out for the talent show and not make it? Did you cry? Nope. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? Y'all when I was a very little kid, during my older sister's b-day party, I sobbed because I couldn't pin the tail properly on the donkey lmaoooo How do you feel about the use of nuclear weapons? Absolutely fucking barbaric. What song has the most meaning to you? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus!!!! :') Have you ever made bread? No. Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Pets, a baby I was watching after, and Jason. Ever been dominated in a game you were/are really good at? yep alskdjfla;jwej Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? Wild animal, I guess? Have you ever listened to a group of chanting monks? I haven't. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Probably of Teddy. I've still yet to decide on the total design of his tribute tat I'm getting. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? I think so, yeah. How mad would you be if someone copied your original work (story, poem)? I'd be pretty fuckin pissed. Have you ever blown something up in science class? Ha, no. Have you ever gotten a serious wound from shaving? Not serious, no. Have you invented anything, only to find out it actually exists? I feel like I have? Ever realize you never truly LOVED your first love? Absolutely not. I loved him. Would you want a Bachelor/Bachelorette party before you get married? Sure, sounds fun. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? As of very recently, I returned to using pads. I used tampons for most of my maturity, but I got annoyed with them for TMI reasons and resorted back to pads, even though I don't like them either. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To die happy with my life and what I (hopefully) accomplished. What colour are the socks you’re wearing today? I’m not wearing any. Who was the last person you sent a Facebook message to and what did you say? Girt. It was something regarding how I once considered doing the suicide mission at BWW where you eat a select number of their hottest wings, but I didn't wanna die via chicken. :^) Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? I'm average in height. I wouldn't change it, nah. Especially now that Girt and I are together the ridiculous height difference is hilarious but also cute lmao. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Like, while I was there? No. Have you ever had casual sex? Nahhhh. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. @_@ When you think of your childhood, are the memories mostly happy or sad? Mostly happy, I guess. What is it like being you? Is it enjoyable? It's very boring with few sources of joy. What are your thoughts on the cause of homosexuality? I would *assume* it's a genetic mutation. Reason being, having a romantic partnership without the ability to reproduce defies the motives of science. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, wrong with said (and hypothetical) genetic mutation, though. Mutations are just another part of science. They occur naturally. What subjects did you find most interesting in school? Least? Most interesting: literature/English (especially reading like, old mythology and epics and stuff like that), LOTS of branches of science (but primarily genetics), art, and I looooved my four semesters of German. Least: ANY and ALL math, history, economics, social studies... that kind of stuff. Which do you enjoy more–hot or cold beverages? Cold, for sure. What were some of your favorite bands from childhood? Green Day was one. Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? Buried alive, for sure. It would be much, much slower. Should you really be doing something more productive right now? Well, I SHOULD be sleeping. Today's going to be a long day, because when Girt comes over, he has a tendency to not leave until like fuckin midnight or later alksdjfl;waje Have you ever lived out of your car? No. Does your family own more than two houses? HUNNY we r poor. A relative just committed a very serious crime, do you turn them in? It depends on the exact crime, but odds are, yes. If you're endangering others, byyyyeeee. You’re in the woods, alone, at night…are you honestly not afraid? Bitch I'm terrified. I have zero survival skills. You are on life support, what would you want a loved one to do about it? For the love of god, please kill me. Your child has only a while to live, do you still enroll them in school? That would be up to them. Also, define "a while." How would you feel if you met your idol and they ended up being rude? WELP I have a tattoo in his honor so that would suck ass lmao According to the tale, was Eve wrong for eating and sharing the apple? "God was wrong for even setting up an apple tree and making up rules in the first place." <<<< There ya go. And the punishment was fucking ludicrously extreme. Are you working on any goals? Yes. I'm currently going to the gym regularly to try and better my physical health and then find a job. I know that being connected sounds odd, but trust me: I can barely carry out very simple tasks just because I have absolutely ZERO stamina to do almost anything. I need energy and endurance. I'm also working towards developing some self-love. Which parent named you? I wanna say my mom. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I mean, myself. Aforementioned self-love is hard. I'm just annoyed my head is so reluctant to accept that I'm not a piece of shit for a million reasons. Why have most of your past relationships ended? They all ended for different reasons, really. Are you having any online conversations, currently? I'm not. What’s on your mind? I'm just tired and going back to bed real soon. Have you ever had an argument with a teacher? No.

[bi-bi-want-dragon]

Chapter 18: Reunion

Read here: AO3 | FF.net

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! I was finally able to get another chapter done, and chapter19 is also mostly written! Hopefully I'll have that next chapter 2 weeks from now for y'all :) but for now, enjoy!

~~~

Zephyr knew from her earliest years that she would be the one to take her father’s place as Chief. Well, Chieftess. Whether the people of New Berk were ready for a change like that or not. Unfortunately, it seems that more people were not ready for that change than she had hoped. But with a new threat slashing its way through the Archipelago, eyes set on New Berk and the secrets that flew away 2 years before Zephyr was born, she would have the chance to prove herself to her people soon enough. Whether she was ready for a change like that or not.

Rated Mature for Explicit Violence

~Chapter 18~

Zephyr was a little... Just maybe a tad... Maybe, like... Alright, fine. She was exhausted. She was completely and utterly beyond exhausted. It had been barely a week and she was already wondering how her father found the energy to do this all day, every single day, without fail. And wondering even more how she was going to be able to take over for him.

And yet at the same time, a whole week...

It had already been a week since her father had left for Old Berk with the two ships and their crews. A week that somehow had both dragged on endlessly and blown by far too quickly all at the same time. Zephyr, Astrid, and Snotlout had done their best to keep the peace and keep up day-to-day activities. The only changes Zephyr had implemented as acting Chief were the necessary preparations for the Outcast refugees. Not that much could be be implemented, not before they had more information about the Outcast Island raid; and Zephyr thanked the gods for that, because even those few adjustments were difficult to introduce.

For the most part, everyone had followed Zephyr’s orders respectfully and promptly; if anyone grumbled about who the orders came from, they did so behind closed doors. Which, Zephyr had to admit, was a very pleasant surprise and she would happily take that over the alternative. But it was the smaller portion of the tribe who adamantly resisted Zephyr's newly-appointed role that really created problems; mostly grumbly old men who more than likely had some kind of ties with a particular Jorgenson. But that was a touchy subject that was not to be brought up around Snotlout, as he had already mentioned aloud multiple times that he would not hesitate to kill his father if he acted out like that. No one was particularly eager to see if Snotlout meant those words literally or figuratively.

But all of those problems from the last week seemed completely insignificant when Holger notified Snotlout of ships approaching.

~Continue reading on AO3 or FF.net~