#i just wanna grab one of her nice CLEAN kitchen knives and end it all

[sensitivegoblin]

..

[saltyhyunjae]

CHAPTER FOUR: YOU’RE NOT AN EASY MISSION

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers (?), kidnapping, criminal!tbz, mentions of guns & knives, suicide and depression mention, a bit of abuse, sangyeon is lowkey very mean in this chapter.

word count: 2.2k

summary: y/n really goes through it.

chapter three

“Finally.” You look behind Hyunjae to see Sangyeon, Juyeon, Changmin and Eric walking towards you, Sangyeon looking like he is about to kill you. You’re dead. He grabs your wrist and rips you out of Hyunjae’s grip. He drags you all the way to the house, never loosening his grip. When you guys step inside, the rest is already there waiting in the living room.

Sangyeon let’s go of you and you touch your wrist that has turned red. He turns around and before anyone even gets to speak, you feel the palm of his hand across your cheek. He hit you. You hear some of the boys gasp as you start tearing up, your cheek burning. You’re done for.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT! WE SHOULD’VE KILLED YOU WHEN WE FIRST SAW YOU, BUT NO WE GAVE YOU A NICE ROOM AND WERE NOTHING BUT SWEET TO YOU. AND THIS YOUR REWARD?!” He yells as everyone just stares at the two of you.

“YOU WERE JUST GONNA REPORT US HUH? YOU WERE JUST PRETENDING TO CARE FOR US SO YOU COULD JUST BETRAY US WHEN WE LEAST EXPECTED IT, RIGHT?” His hand lifts up again and you flinch expecting another slap, but it never comes. You open your eyes to Hyunjae grabbing Sangyeon’s wrist, stopping him from slapping you. “Enough.”

Sangyeon takes a deep breath finally coming to his senses. He didn’t want to hit you, but as soon as they finally found you, he saw red. “Changmin, Eric, take her to the storage room.” He orders before walking away

When you enter the storage room, they close the door behind you. Jacob told you once before about how the storage room is the only room with a lock or cameras in the house. You sit down on the floor and finally breakdown, sobbing loudly.

When you’ve finally calmed down, you hear the lock and the door opens. It’s Jacob. He comes in with an emergency kit and gives you a faint smile. “I would ask if you’re okay but I already know the answer to that.” He tries to joke and you give him a small smile.

“Let’s see.” He gently grabs your jaw and starts cleaning up the wound on your cheek, the other one still red from the hit. You notice the bandage around his arm, around the place you stabbed him. “Sorry, I didn't know it was you.” You mutter looking down. “It’s okay, I understand.” He softly pats your shoulder.

When he’s done with your face he cleans up the wounds on your knee and elbows. You give him a barely audible ‘thank you’ and he leaves to get you blankets and a pillow. He tells you goodnight, once you two made up your ‘bed’ and as soon as he leaves you break down again, and so you cry yourself to sleep.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Weeks go by and you’re back in your room again, which now has locks on the window and a camera. Jacob brings you your meals and the only time you go outside your room is when you go to the bathroom or when they have to take you with them on their missions. During the missions you just quietly stay put.

Ever since the day you tried to escape you haven’t spoken or even looked at the boys, besides jacob. They, except for Sangyeon, tried to speak to you a few times, but you just ignored them and they eventually gave up. You’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night and besides eating all you do is sleep and shower, just waiting for your days to be over.

You’re awake but your eyes are closed trying to get more sleep. Winter is coming and it’s starting to get colder. You’ve been here for about two months now. You put your blanket over your head and sigh.

Hyunjae knocks on your door slowly opening it. You look up expecting Jacob. You two make eye contact for a second before you look down again. He gives you your breakfast and you nod at him.

You expect him to leave, but he doesn’t, instead he sits next to you on your bed. He inspects you as you eat. You look exhausted, eyes puffy from crying all night. He feels his heart breaking looking at your state. He feels so helpless, he wants to do something but he knows that he can’t. He knows how stubborn Sangyeon is, he’ll never let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, you look up at him confused. “I’m sorry I got you into this situation.” He feels like it’s all his fault, he was the one that pleaded Sangyeon, who wanted to kill you at the store after they took everything, to just keep you as a maid. Usually he would be the one to propose the idea of killing a witness, but as soon as he laid eyes on you in the store, he felt something he has never felt before, something he can't describe.

You don’t know why but you feel tears coming up. You try to turn away but Hyunjae grabs you and pulls you in a hug. You rest your head on his shoulder and start crying as he rubs your back.

Hyunjae holds you close, his heart racing faster than he thought was possible. After you have finally calmed down, Hyunjae tells you to rest up and you sleep till Jacob gives you your dinner, returning to your usual schedule.

A week later not much has changed besides the fact that now both Jacob and Hyunjae also give you your meals. They’re the only ones you interact with making small talks when they drop by.

“What does your room look like?” You ask Jacob, who places your food beside you. “Want me to show it to you?” You nod excitedly and he laughs. “Eat up then i’ll show you.”

After you’re done eating, Jacob brings you to his room. When you enter his room you’re hit with the scent of vanilla and rose. Around his wall he has posters of movies and his bed is neatly made up, just like the rest of his room. “Wow, it's pretty.” “Thank you.” He smiles looking down with his hands in his pockets.

Jacob doesn’t know why but every time he’s around he gets a bit nervous and his heart starts beating faster. He knows he shouldn’t be feeling like this since you're their captive, but he can’t help it.

You look around some more while Jacob sits on the bed. You turn your head to the right and look at the ground, spotting a gun in the corner of his room. You decide to not point it out and go on with your mini tour.

After you and Jacob talk about random things for like an hour, you go back to your room. “It was nice seeing you get out of your room again. My room is always open for you to hang out!.” Jacob smiles and you thank him before he closes the door behind him.

A few days later you have another big mental breakdown again, the fifth of the month. You want to leave. You need to leave. But you can’t. Out of frustration you grab your hair. You can’t take it anymore. You needed to find a way out. But how?

You already tried to escape once it’s impossible to do that now. You needed to end this. Suddenly Jacob’s gun comes to your mind. You needed to end them. You started laughing. You were just gonna do it, you were going to kill infamous criminals The Boyz.

You spent the next couple of days trying to come up with a plan when Jacob one day mentions they were going to have a movie night later that day, he asked if you wanted to join them but you declined. After he left you couldn’t help but smile. Tonight is the night.

»»————-　➴　————-««

“NO! No horror movies.” Eric tries to fight Changmin of him, earning a bite from the older one. Eric starts screaming and let’s go of the remote. Changmin grabs it and starts the movie. The tv is so loud they can’t hear any noises from outside the living room.

You walk into Jacob’s room about 20 minutes after the movie started, grabbing his gun. Thank god it’s loaded. You slowly walk downstairs and sneak into the kitchen, grabbing a big sharp knife. Before you enter the living room you take a deep breath preparing yourself. The boys are so into the movie they don’t notice you walking in, and thank god the lights are out too. You approach Sunwoo who is the closest to your reach. You point your knife at his neck and get ready to use it.

Sangyeon looks to his side and notices you behind Sunwoo, holding something in both of your hands. He gasps when he sees the knife and gun. “Sunwoo! Behind you!” The boys all jump up and the light goes on.

Changmin speeds to you and grabs you from behind. “Oh my God, Y/n, What the fuck.” Sunwoo breathes in shock. “Y/n! Put that down.” Hyunjae tries to stop you. You feel like you're going out of your mind. You start to laugh hysterically and then start to scream. “NO! let me go NOW!.” You laugh again. “Let me go or you guys are dying.”

“Y/n please.” Jacob tries. “I SAID LET ME GO!” You desperately try to wiggle out of Changmin's arms. You suddenly feel a tear running down your cheek. You didn’t even notice you were crying. “Y/n don’t be stupid put that dow-.” Sangyeon speaks up but you cut him off. “SHUT UP!” Anger starts racing in you, hearing his voice. “You’re the last one I wanna hear right now!” You start to see red as you break down in sobs.

“You guys are horrible. You guys are the reason I don't wanna live anymore. You guys ruined my life. YOU ALL RUINED ME. Either you guys are dying or it’s me!” “Y/n, nobody is dying tonight.” Hyunjae tries to slowly approach you.

“Oh no?” You give them a wicked smile. You notice Changmin’s grip on you loosened a bit giving you the opportunity to lift your hand that’s holding the gun. You point it up to your head. Changmin freezes up and Hyunjae’s eyes widen in fear. “Y/n!-”

Before you can pull the trigger, Juyeon knocks the gun out of your hand letting it fall onto the ground. You let out a loud scream before falling on your knees. You can’t stop your tears from falling and loud sobs from coming out of your mouth.

Both Jacob and Hyunjae run over to you and Hyunjae holds you close to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He tries to shush you. You grasp onto his shirt and start to hyperventilate. Jacob kneels before you and runs his fingers through your hair trying to calm you down, while the rest of the boys just stand there in shock.

Hyunjae picks you up and carries you to your room. You finally calm down as he lays you down on the bed. You crawl between the sheets, your back facing him. Hyunjae stays quiet and strokes your hair as you fall asleep.

“I can’t believe she tried to kill me!” Sunwoo puts his hand in the air out of disbelief as Hyunjae walks into the room. “She tried to kill all of us, don’t feel special.” Kevin huffs earning a glare from Sunwoo. “But still!” “Shut up, she’s finally asleep.” Hyunjae sits on the couch.

“How could she be like this?” Eric sighs. Jacob takes a deep breath, he’s been trying to stay calm since the day you tried to run away, but right now the frustration is taking over him.

“Are we surprised she’s like this?!” His voice raises a bit, surprising the members. “Didn’t you guys hear her? We ruined her! She did nothing to this deserve this, yet we got her into this stupid situation!”

“You just had to slap her.” Younghoon turns to Sangyeon. “I don’t know, I didn't want to.” Hyunjae rolls his eyes. “Then apologize.” “Like apologizing is gonna do something.” Sangyeon huffs. “Right, I'm sure she hates us for life now.” Eric leans back in his seat.

“Can’t we just let her go.” Jacob groans. “No! That's out of the question. She’ll report us right away.” “But Sangye-.” “No.”

“And what if we convince her to not report us?” Haknyeon smirks. “You wanna torture her?” Changmin gives Haknyeon a confused look. “Listen, I have a plan.” Everyone groans and Chanhee rolls his eyes. “Not again.”

“No listen, this plan is better.” Everyone turns their attention to Haknyeon as he starts explaining his plan. “Okay so, We’ll just let her live with us as part of the group instead of her being a maid or prisoner or something like that.” Haknyeon smiles as if it’s the best idea in the world.

“We’re called the boyz, not the boyz plus one girl.” Eric snorts. “Okay, but she won’t report her friends, or herself, right?”

“I think it’s a good idea.” Juyeon agrees with Haknyeon. “Of Course you do.” Chanhee sighs. “Well the idea isn’t that bad.” Kevin speaks up. “We could use some help.” “Right, I agree too.” Hyunjae stands up, he doesn’t really like the idea, but everything is better than watching you suffer because of them. After a lot of thinking all of the boys finally agree and go to bed.

»»————-　➴　————-««

tag list:

@beauchamp-fraser @n-xrmy @givememunjang @choidokim @stxrles-nxmss

[jbbuckybarnes]

Scared & Sacred - Ch. 2

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader Description: The Mandalorian had helped you while you were hunted for your family name and you had grown a little closer over the months, but you didn’t expect THIS. How was this possible after just three times of getting so close to him. You had to find a nurse as fast as possible. Warnings: pregnancy, angst, lots of emotions, canon typical violence, fighting

M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter 2 - The Letter

Every night you prepared some more food in little portions to keep you alive on the journey you would start soon. You had three pairs of every clothing in a compartment that you would put into a bag, bought another bag on the last planet to put the food, water and a blanket in. Even got a cheap med pack on the last planet. On the next planet you‘d leave. You‘d find someone to bring you back to that harmonic place where the nurse droid told you that you were expecting.

„Cyare?“ You closed the compartment as you heard him come closer. „Hm?“ You looked up at him in front of you, holding a fuzzing Grogu. „Something‘s upsetting him.“ Arms reached up and grabbed Grogu out of Din‘s gentle grasp. „Hey, sweetpea, you‘re safe here. We won‘t let anything happen to you, yeah?“ You tried to calm him a bit. It worked a tiny bit, but he wiggled free again to sit on your lap and nuzzle into your belly. „Better?“ You chuckled and got a coo of agreement, making you chuckle. Eyes wandered up to the Mandalorian again, „It‘s okay, he can sleep here.“ It would be a nice last night having Grogu sleeping right on top of you, showing love to his sibling. You started to notice that region of your body growing harder to the touch. „Do you mind if we share?“ Din‘s modulated voice reached your ears. „I‘d prefer sleeping alone, if I‘m being honest.“ You answered softly, shutting him out of your heart and bed. „Did I do anything to upset you? You‘ve been very distant since we left Arcaro.“ That was the harmonic planet, you saved the name internally. „I miss your touch.“ „Oh, no no. Just having a lot on my mind at the moment. Going through memories of my childhood and all.“ That was only half a lie, so you didn‘t feel very bad. „If you need to talk, you know I‘m there.“ You nodded softly, starting to hear Grogu snore. „Get some sleep, Din. You have people to hunt tomorrow.“ You smiled and saw him nod before heading off to his cot.

You couldn‘t sleep with the journey ahead on your mind, so you grabbed a piece of flimsy and started writing a letter to Din that you would leave behind, attaching your soup recipe that the kid liked the most. You put it in an envelope and put it between your pillow and the mattress. Shortly after the exhaustion of the day got you to fall asleep for a few hours. 

Din and Grogu were hunting for a Corellian woman while you got the last important pieces for your journey and the ship. You filled up the food supply, bought another melee weapon and you found a very used vest that would hold off blaster shots that you put on under your gown. Once all of that was done you checked through your backpack and side bag and put them on your body. A deep breath went through you as you looked around one last time. This was a great home and protection for a while, but it was time for another chapter in your life. You‘d miss Grogu a lot, as well as the beskar armored man with the patience of a Jedi.

You headed down the main street of the city to find a ship you could fly with all the way back towards the planet of Arcaro. You ended up meeting a woman that used to be a fighter for the Republic. Hated the Empire and thought bounty hunters are annoying. Seemed safe enough. As you took off she asked, „What‘s your business here?“ „Leaving behind the people that helped me run from the people that hunted my family because I‘m with child and they weren‘t ready to accept that kinda life.“ You kept it short but clear. „Damn, that sounds like a lifestory if I ever heard one. Who knocked you up?“ She was direct. Reminded you of Cara. „The man that protected me for the last months. Very kind, kind of emotionally incompetent, definitely wouldn‘t take the news well.“ „I see.“ She nodded before jumping into hyperspace. She knew you had the credits to pay her, everything else was just listening to your interesting story and getting a good tip for a market.

— POV CHANGE —

Din stepped into his ship with Grogu. It was dead silent, not completely unusual. What was unusual was the fact you didn‘t react when he called out „Cyare?“ The child in his arms cooed in confusion and looked up at him with a frown. „She might still be caught up on the market. We‘ll wait.“ But even that plan fell away once he had fully arrived home and opened the compartment that you had fully stocked before leaving. „Oh, I‘m having a bad feeling about this,“ he whispered to himself as he closed the compartment and put the scanner on his helmet on. Only your footsteps, no others in sight. That didn‘t make sense. She never really went on walks, when she did she always was back in time to welcome him. He followed the steps and arrived in another hangar. „Hey, you there!“ He pointed at the slightly intimidated man near the hangar. „Y-Yes?“ „Have you seen a human woman in white and blue gowns, a green bag and braided hair? This big, cloak is blue too, with white details on it.“ „She went through here, yes.“ „Did she seem afraid?“ „No, she was acting normal. Talked to a woman that frequently takes travellers with her to other places. Seemed to be ready for a trip.“ „Dank ferrik! Thank you.“ NOW he was a different type of concerned. Why did you leave? Willingly! He scanned over the holopad the man held, taking in the information on it that he hoped was about the ship you were in.

When he got back he noticed one of his weapons missing in his arsenal, your blue blindfold on the co-pilot seat and everything neatly cleaned and organized in the kitchen. This was starting to kill him from the inside out. What had happened? What would make you get up and leave on purpose? From the man you loved and the child you cared for so much? He checked your bed. It wasn‘t made. The only thing in here that wasn‘t neat and tidy. And there he saw it, something sticking out from under your pillow. His mind went back to the time he found a little booklet there. A booklet about human children, medical stuff. He took off his gloves and grabbed the flimsy, opening the envelope he held in his hands shortly after and noticed it was a letter addressed at him.

*Dear Din, I know this might be confusing. That I‘m gone now, that I went without telling you. I know it‘s dangerous out there and that you are a big reason I‘m still breathing, but I couldn‘t bear the idea of making a decision benefiting you and leaving me lost. When you told me you weren‘t ready for a child, I knew I had to leave. I won‘t decide against it and I didn‘t wanna hear from your voice that I shouldn‘t keep it. I‘ll miss you. I‘ll miss Grogu. He‘ll miss his unborn sibling too. I know how excited he was for it. I‘m content with knowing that the child was created out of love. Two months and about a week ago. I hope that gives you rest about the situation. I‘ll go back to Arcaro. The place with the beautiful market and one of the best nurse droids I‘ve ever met. I‘ll figure out where to go and how to be on my own from there. I hope you don‘t mind that I took one of the weapons you barely used in the last months. Have this recipe for Grogu in return, he loves it the most and sleeps the best after eating it. Love, Y/N*

Din was drowning in an ocean of feelings. He wanted to cry, scream, beg, jump in happiness and yearned to have you in his arms. Oh, how much he wanted to have you in his arms right now. How much he wished you would‘ve told him that day. He would‘ve pushed away all your doubts. He would‘ve worshipped you, your body, the wonders happening inside of you. Instead you were running from him like he was some disgusting monster. 

He sat down in the pilots seat with Grogu on his arm and the letter in the other hand, setting it down gently and punching in the coordinates to the planet you mentioned. You‘d arrive there after him if he did this trick right. 

— POV CHANGE —

You gave the Republic lady a big tip and a hug. „It‘s rare to meet someone to talk to like this. Thank you for the ride and the long talk.“ You smiled at her and she grabbed both of your arms gently. „I land here every now and then, so if you ever see this piece of metal land, say hello.“ She grinned and let you go.

You stepped down the ramp of her vessel to see the market you loved so much fairly empty. It was really early in the morning on this planet. You got closer to the market and saw how some vendors currently refilled their little shops. „Where do you think you‘re going?“ A dark voice was audible behind you. It was familiar. „Kuuvi?“ You turned around to the man that has been hunting you for a year now. He used to be a good friend. „Yes, it‘s me.“ You turned around to him with a smile. „How have you been?“ You asked as if he didn‘t have the capacity to kill you right there. „Eating good, having a nice ship, good people around. How about you?“ He shrugged. „Except for the nice ship I can only say the same.“ „Where is your tin can?“ „Oh, he‘s just getting some supplies. Looking for a better ship at the moment. Razor Crest is great and all, but it gets crammed in there.“ You chuckled. Being royalty made you a master of lies sometimes „Twi‘ku still wants you on his doorstep.“ He gave a dirty grin. „You still work for that half-rotten idiot with bad rates? Moff Gideon would pay you so much more, I mean he‘s the source.“ „Either would pay me enough to retire if I deliver you.“ „Well, would be against the code of any guild.“ „Huh?“ „Pregnant women aren‘t allowed to be hunted.“ With a sweet grin you watched him realize the information you had just dropped and frown, enough distracted time to run one of your knives through his throat. He grabbed after you, getting out his vibroblade, but you had a gun trained on him in return, stepping on his lung and taking out the knife. „Traitor!“ You pulled the trigger and burned a hole through his heart. Two more men were running at you, one got a blastershot to the throat and the other got your new staff punched over the head.

You looked up to see people around the market hiding behind stuff, before hearing a saber lighting up behind you. „It‘s nice to see you alone for once.“ Moff Gideon. You were dead. You were so damn dead. „What do you want from me?“ you growled and heard him chuckle. „Not much, you just took something from me that you can‘t give back.“ „My brother killing your daughter isn‘t something that involves me!“ „No, but I overheard you are with child, so we might as well call it even.“ He charged at you with his dark saber, but just before it could hit you there was something big landing between you both.

„Nobody hurts my child.“ You heard his possessive and protective voice. „Oh, how sweet.“ He attacked Din ruthlessly, making you both step back further and further. Troopers came at you from left and right and you took out the second weapon you stole from Din, shooting left and right while leaned against his back. Behind you the saber strained against Din‘s arm guards. „Give up. You won‘t win this.“ Gideon hissed at him. You heard more jetpacks land behind you. Three blue Mandalorians landed in Din‘s sight behind Moff Gideon. „You have something that‘s mine and you better give it to me.“ You heard a familiar female voice. „Bo-Katan Kryze.“ His voice was somewhere between a chuckle and an unsure shakiness. There were no living stormtroopers anymore in just seconds and the four Mandalorians closed in on Moff. His saber not working on their armor. „Any last words?“ Bo-Katan asked with a serious voice. „They‘ll never stop coming for you. For your children, your family, your friends, your religion. They will always watch.“ Din put a blaster shot through his head from a low angle, „Psycho.“

He turned around to envelope you into the safety of his arms, „Cyar‘ika!“ You were shaking and gripping onto his cape, „I‘m okay. We‘re okay.“ „You can‘t just run off like that.“ He sounded wound up, probably thinking about what would‘ve happened if he hadn‘t arrived in time. „I thought-“ „Your thoughts aren‘t the reality. You really thought I‘d tell you to get rid of your unborn child. I told you children are seen as sacred in Mandalorian culture.“ You looked behind him and got a nod from a helmetless Bo-Katan, „We‘ll get this done, go talk.“ Din tightly put his arms around you and you shot up into the sky before landing on top of a building. His hands, freed from gloves, wandered over your cheeks. „I wish you would‘ve told me. I wish so much that I could‘ve been able to tell you to stop worrying and I wish you would‘ve been able to see me jump in joy at the news. I know we don‘t talk a lot, but this was the time you should‘ve talked. If I had said something negative you still could‘ve left.“ Your lip started trembling, he was right. You were so dumb for doing this. „Hey, no no, I understand why you did it, cyare.“ His helmet touched your forehead. His hands wandered down your sides, „Can I?“ You nodded and felt his hand wander over the hardened skin on your lower belly. He went on his knees before you, hands on your hips before they wandered to his helmet. „Din, no.“ You whispered and heard the hiss. „I thought about this for a long time. There is not one way, there are multiple ways that all have the same core. Look at Bo-Katan, Boba, all these people we met. I grew up in a version of this religion that doesn’t work for me anymore, I don‘t want that to be our child's life too. I want to live it our way.“ And with that the helmet came off. „They are gone, no one can hurt you two and Grogu anymore.“ „But the Empire.“ „We‘ll deal with it.“ The helmet went down and you could finally see his face. Soft face, with harsh features, smiling, „Besides. You looked pretty hot fighting off those idiots.“ „Wait till I break your hand while delivering the child.“ You chuckled with tears streaming down your face. He was so beautiful, so gentle. His nose pressed against your belly, his grip on your hips tightening just enough for you to feel even safer. „Where‘s Grogu?“ „On the ship, probably eating all the supplies.“ You both chuckled and enjoyed the moment for a while longer. „I can‘t wait to meet you, ad‘ika,“ he whispered to your unborn baby. There was so much love in his eyes that you started crying again. „Oh, cyare.“ He took your face in his hands with a caring frown on his face. „Don‘t mind me, just hormones.“ You chuckled to lighten up the situation. „My riduur.“ His bare forehead met yours. „Huh?“ „It- It means partner.“ He said it with such an innocent unsureness that you had to whisper a small, „Oh, baby.“ „I‘ll open up to you more, yeah? We‘ll find a good planet to stay.“ „I like this one so much.“ „I know, cyar‘ika. But maybe we should go to Sorgan for a while before coming back here. Grogu will have children to play with and you will be able to relax.“ His thumbs still caressed your cheeks. „Okay, my knight in shining armor.“ You smiled and kissed his nose, before taking his helmet and putting it back on his head.

You flew back to where you had fought, finding Bo-Katan with the dark saber. „I can rule over Mandalore again and you both are more than welcome there once it‘s done.“ She sent you both a smile. „We might take you up on that.“ You smiled back at her. „We‘ll clean this up and make sure nobody else is hunting for your children. We owe you for finally having this in our hands.“ She held up the saber. „Thank you,“ Din said sincerely and nodded before you said your goodbyes and went back to the ship.

You found Grogu arms deep in a jar of nectar. „Oh Grogu.“ You giggled and he turned around with his signature coo, ears falling at being caught. „It‘s alright, but don‘t do it again. You wanna see your dada‘s face?“ You asked picking him up, cleaning him with something from one of your bags. His eyes got wider and his ears perked. You let down both your bags and the cloak before turning around to Din. „Ready?“ You smiled and he nodded before taking off his helmet. The child gasped and reached for his face, so you held him up to it. He babbled while touching all over his face, Din chuckling and intently listening. Had he always looked like that beneath the helmet when talking to Grogu? „Dada.“ His and your eyes widened at that. You turned Grogu around to look at you and praised him, „Good boy, you love your dada so much, don‘t you?“ A tiny giggle came from his body before he wiggled again. „You wanna say hello to your sibling?“ Another squeak. You sat down on the floor, so did Din while also losing some parts of his armor. He watched as the child put his hands on your belly and closed his eyes, you felt the gentle tingle again. His tiny green nose nuzzled into your skin right where he felt his sibling through the force. „You‘ll see it in a couple months.“ You smiled down at Grogu and gently touched his ears. He could sense that good things happened. That you both weren‘t as worried as you usually were. „Let‘s go to Sorgan and meet the children you like playing with, yeah?“ Another happy squeak came from the green child. „Ner aliit.“ Din murmured softly. You understood without asking. You were his family now and he was yours.

___

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[tinyboxxtink]

“Helpless” *Part 7*

WHOOOOOO buddies, this might be my favorite chapter so far. You’ll see why.... 

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 8

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

----

Olivia, Fin, Carisi and the other blonde detective, Rollins you thought-- came bursting into the kitchen at the noise, only to find you and Rafael standing there like kids with their hands in a cookie jar.

“We uh-- we thought…” Carisi stammered.

“Sorry, we’ll leave ya’ll to it. We’re gonna take off,” Amanda waved goodbye, shoving the rest of them out the door.

“Right...have a nice evening!” you called after them in a cheery voice, but slapped your hands over your face as soon as they were gone. 

“Christ...great, now they’ll be talking too,” you rolled your eyes.

“They’re not high school girls, they don’t gossip,” he scoffed.

“Uh huh...like we’re not high schoolers making out in the back room?”

“Two kisses hardly count as ‘making out’, carino,” He smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Carino means…” 

“Sweetie or honey, I know. Arianna speaks spanish. She calls you abogado,” 

“...You know spanish? Then why did you look at me weird when I called you camarera?” 

“She didn’t teach me, like a Rosetta Stone or something. She just says things randomly in spanish and tells me what they mean,” you explained, suddenly wondering how you got into this conversation.

“I see…”

“Okay this conversation has veered off into some weird little tangent,” 

“I agree, enough talking,” Rafael grinned devilishly, wrapping his arms around you again.

“DOWN, counselor,” you pushed his arms back to his sides. 

“You see this?” you gestured to the mess in front of you. “I gotta remake all of this before I can leave, and it takes FOREVER,”

“Well not if I help,” 

“Yeah OKAY, a big fancy lawyer is gonna sit here and do prep work,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing the onions and tomatoes to slice. Rafael grabbed some knives on a nearby shelf and handed you one.

“I cook, you know,” he took an onion and started chopping.

“Do you? Then why are you in here all the time?��  you raised an eyebrow while grabbing a tomato. 

“It’s not fun cooking for one person,” he replied, not looking up from the board.

“You don’t live with anyone?” The question made Rafael stop chopping and look at you.

“If I had a significant other, do you really think I would be here kissing you? Even pursuing you?” He gave you a look.

“Pursuing me….” you gave him a tongued smile. “I like that,”

“Whatever…” he shook his head with a smile. “The answer is NO; I’m a thirty something something with a very nice job, I live alone,” 

“Mmmmm I’m willing to bet you’re more of a forty something something, but I get it,” You smirked. “That must be nice, I’ve never lived alone,” 

“It gets lonely,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah I’m sure, in a big penthouse apartment and your many books of mahogany,” 

“...Really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, I assume rich people have a lot of books, and I’m pretty sure mahogany is fancy…” You blushed, to which Rafael laughed. A real laugh; the crinkles of his eyes and his dimples as big as they were, you hadn’t seen him laugh like that up close before. It was intoxicating. 

“...What? Did I get an onion on my face?” Rafael knocked you from your daze; shit were you staring at him?!

“Wha-- no, nothing. I’m just tired,” you played it off, waving your hands dismissively. 

“Well I know you have the good stuff in here,” He walked away from the cutting board and over to your espresso machine, turning it on.

“Oh come on man, now I have to re-clean that!” You groaned. 

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” Rafael kissed your cheek as he made cappuccinos for the two of you.

---

About an hour had passed, and you two were finally done re-prepping all the prep work. Rafael had even helped you reclean the espresso machine. You did last minute checks and went outside, where Rafael followed. You locked the front doors and picked up your phone to look at it.

“SHIT, 1:45?! God, Ari must be freaking out,” you frantically looked through your history to make sure she hadn’t tried to call or text. She hadn’t. 

“Well, good night counselor,” You nodded, starting to walk to the subway; Rafael grabbed your hand.

“Oh no no no, I’m not letting you walk home by yourself at 2 am in the middle of New York City,” 

“It’s 1:45, and I’m a big girl. Trust me, I could knife a guy if I had to,” you protested.

“ ….‘knife a guy’,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“I could! 

“Alright then humor me,” He pulled you around the corner where a town car was waiting.

“How did you--??”

“Uber never sleeps,” he opened the door for you and you slid in the backseat, Rafael slid in next to you.

“So do I just tell him my address or….?”

“I mean, unless you wanna go to mine,” he grinned devilishly again, that sparkle of arousal dancing in his eyes. It was very tempting.

“I….no I can’t, Ari will know,” you looked down, feeling stupid. It was as if Arianna was your mommy and you were out past curfew. Not like the two grown women equals you should be.

You gave the driver your address and he began driving. You felt Rafael put an arm around your shoulder, and for once you let yourself relax into him. You had literally never felt safer in your life, just being curled up next to him. So safe, so warm, so…

“...Y/N?” 

Rafael’s voice awakened you from the nap you apparently had just taken in his arms. 

“Oh...Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” You apologized, fixing his mussed dress shirt where you had been laying on it. There was even the tiniest bit of drool on it; god how embarrassing. 

“You most certainly did, you were even snoring a bit,” He chuckled at the horrified look on your face. “What? It was cute,” 

“God…” You leapt out of the car, trying to get your keys out as fast as you could to get away from this nightmare. 

“Hey, wait up!” Rafael got out of the car and followed you to the door of your building. 

“Okay, I made it home safe. You did your duty, counselor,” you saluted him, to which he took your “saluting” hand in his.

“That’s it? I spent hours chopping up things and cleaning, and all I get is  ‘job well done’?” 

“Well...what else do you want, a medal?” you teased him.

“How about…” He pulled you in for another kiss; and this time, you let him. 

The kiss lasted for what seemed like forever. The chilly New York air blew against your cheap plastic jacket and you shivered. Rafael took his huge pea coat and wrapped it around the two of you while you kissed, making it that more romantic.

Even after you broke apart, your arms were wrapped around his waist inside the jacket, your head pressed against his chest as he kissed your forehead and just held you. You didn’t want to leave him there, you knew for sure you had never felt this safe. With anyone. Not even Arianna. GOD, Arianna. Now you really didn’t want to leave him because you knew you couldn’t see him again; not like this.

Rafael felt something warm against his chest, and he pulled you back a bit from him, only to see you were crying.

“Ay carino...don’t cry, what’s wrong?”

“This is it,” you sniffled. “This is where this ends, and I don’t want it to,” 

Rafael sighed and put his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him. “Hey...this ends, when you say it ends. Not me, not Arianna, you,” 

“Rafael I told you I--” You started, but he put a finger to your lips.

“I told you, I’m not scared of Arianna. I lo--care about you, a lot,” He bit his lip when he stumbled over his words. A micro expression trying to hide the words he really wanted to say-- but you knew that already.

Even though it made zero sense of course, how could two people possibly be in love after a few days. Not even. Maybe your bullshit about a ‘connection’ wasn’t bullshit….not that it mattered anyway because this was never going to work out. Arianna would never let it happen. 

But for some bizarre reason, in that chilly doorway at 2 am, wrapped in Rafael’s coat-- you believed him. You believed that somehow, he was going to make this better. He was going to make it okay. And you were actually going to let him.

“...Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay? Really? Okay? Just like that? I thought I’d have to get on my knees and beg,”

“Do you want me to change my mind or do you wanna kiss me again?”

“Kiss please,” he smiled, pulling you even closer into his coat as he kissed you far deeper this time. He had to make this okay, he had to do something. He just had to. You never wanted to give this feeling up. 

“Give me your phone,” you ordered him this time, and he obliged. You programmed your number and handed it back to him.

“There. Now I can’t ‘ghost’ you,” 

“You can try, I’ll just blow up your phone with links of cute cat videos or something,” he grinned, kissing you one more time.

“Okay, seriously I gotta go upstairs. Arianna’s gonna wake up and see I’m not home,” 

“...Until we meet again then,” he kissed your hand and gave you the biggest smile you had ever seen on a human being. 

You walked inside your building and watched him until he got back into the town car and drove off into the night. Then you took the stairs up to your apartment, practically floating all the way there.

---

When you unlocked the front door to your apartment, you tried tiptoeing through your living room. However, as you reached the two doorways of your rooms, you noticed Arianna’s light was still on. You debated heavily whether or not to check on her, she was never up this late. 

Maybe something had happened? Maybe she was worried about you? 

You peeked open her door, only to see ALL of her stuff strewn about her room in boxes, while she was throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“Oh good! You’re home,” She pulled bras out of her top drawer.

“W-What is all this--” your eyes darted around the room.

“Did you have a nice time with the abogado?” her question made your blood freeze.

“What? Wha--Ari, I told you--” your voice quavered.

“Yeah I know what you told me, and I also know that look of yours,” she laughed and shook her head.

“What look?”

“The same look you had for Bobby DiMucci in 10th grade,” She smirked. “The ‘oh my god I wanna marry you and have all the babies’, look,” she batted her eyes.

“There’s...that’s not--” you scoffed with a laugh.

“But that’s cool! I hope you guys had a very nice time, you certainly seemed to have a very nice goodbye,” She gestured downstairs. FUCK you knew it, she would be watching. 

“Y-You do…?”

“I do! Because we’re leaving,” Arianna grabbed more boxes out of her closet and tossed them at you.

“Wha--we’re-- NO, we’re not,” Your mind started running a million miles a minute, your body began to panic.

“YES, we are,” she stopped packing and walked up to you.

“Whether or not you and the ADA keep playing kissy face, he knows about us. And if he doesn’t take you down, he’s gonna take me down. And I can’t have that,” She explained as she continued packing.

“And I know you don’t wanna choose between us, so I’m choosing for you,” She circled the room, pulling stuff out from under her bed.

“We’re leaving, and you’re never gonna see him again,” She grabbed some of the boxes on her bed and tossed them towards you.

Your blood was boiling, your whole body was shaking. She controlled EVERYTHING in your life, down to what kind of soda you drank, or what TV show you watched. She wasn’t going to control this, she wasn’t going to take him away from you.

“I...Ari, NO,” you softly spoke.

“....Excuse me?”

“I’m not going with you,” you said louder, glaring at her.

 “If--If you wanna run because you think that Rafael is gonna ‘take you down’, which he ISN’T,”  “Then fine. I won’t tell him or anyone where you went. But I’m not going,” 

“God….baby girl,” Arianna dropped the boxes and made a sad pouting face, as if she was feeling bad for you; But then she went for something behind her bed. All of a sudden she was pulling out a gun, and holding it on you.

“Don’t make me do this,” 

“What the FUCK, Arianna? Why do you have a GUN?” You were freaking out, you didn’t know if you should run or throw something or shit your pants.

“Oh for Fuck’s sake Y/N we lived in a CAR, in NEW YORK CITY. Why wouldn’t I have a gun?!” she scoffed, moving closer to you.

“Okay but--but put it down, okay? Please?” You were now crying, basically begging for your life. How did you go from SO safe to now begging for your life?!

“I can’t do that, sweetie. Not until you agree to leave with me. Tonight,” She had tears in her own eyes, you knew she didn’t want to hurt you. She was scared. You knew she would never hurt you. 

“....Please, Arianna. Please don’t do this…” You pleaded through tears, very slowly reaching for the gun.

“YOU’RE DOING IT! YOU are doing this to us!” she screamed, waving the gun in your face. 

“I guess it is sort of my fault, I told you his name. I pushed you towards him. I just didn’t think he’d actually like you back,” she continued in a normal voice.

“Wow, just...wow,” you huffed.

“Not that you’re not wonderful, baby girl. Just...you know, not in his league,” 

“See but you were wrong, Ari. He does like me. No no no, He LOVES me, and I love him,” You were getting bolder now, how dare she start shitting on you and Rafael. That’s all she had done from the start, was tear apart and tarnish what you had. 

“Pffftttt, okay. After what, a few conversations and a few tongues down your throat? Gimme a friggin BREAK,” she scoffed, the gun still pointed at you. 

“Fuck you, it’s real.” You spat, unable to take the bullshit from her anymore. Arianna stared at you in shock; you had NEVER spoken to her like that.

 “And-And And if you DON’T want him coming after us, then this is the stupidest move you could make. Because he’ll fight for me Arianna, he’ll fight for me and he will WIN,” Tears still in your voice, but anger powered over them.

“God, look at you! Look at what he’s DONE to you. To us. It’s always been US, Y/N. Me and you, Bert and Ernie! Thelma And Louise! Bonnie And Clyde!” She gestured between the two of you wildly.

“NO, it’s been you using me,” you scoffed.

“Is that what he said?” She turned the gun sideways.

“It’s the truth!” you argued.

“NO IT’S NOT, and once we get out of here, you’ll forget about him. I promise, and then we can be happy again. Okay?” She had a psychotic smile, pulling you in for a hug, the gun pressed against your back. You had to get out of here.

“...Okay, Ari,” you finally gave in, throwing your hands up in defeat. You looked up at her with the saddest eyes you could muster, trying to convince her she had you beaten down once again. She hugged you again, and let you go. But she held tight to the gun. 

“I’ll go pack,” you grabbed some boxes and took them into your room. As soon as you heard Arianna resume packing, you ducked beside your bed and dialed Rafael’s number.

“Please pick up, please please please….”

[haltandcatchfiretothemax]

FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2021 #1: In which Cameron takes Donna on a date

[CN: food, food shopping, and eating mentions]

.

.

After nearly a year of letting Donna do all of the asking, Cameron asked Donna out. While strolling down the produce aisle of the supermarket on a routine shopping trip, Cameron asked her, “Hey, do you wanna go on a date to a museum with me sometime soon?”

Donna looked up from the carton of raspberries she’d been inspecting, and smiled at Cameron. “A museum? I would love to!” 

An hour later, as Cameron and Donna worked together in the kitchen to put away their groceries and other supplies, Cameron said unprompted, “I went to a lot of museums in Japan.”

“Oh?” Donna responded, intrigued.

Cameron went back into the refrigerator to retrieve some cold cuts and the mayonnaise, “I’m hungry, I’m gonna make some sandwiches, okay?” As she put slices of bread into the toaster, she said, “I’d wander into them, after walking around aimlessly through the city, when I wanted a place to sit. And then I’d actually walk through them, and it was always nicer, and more soothing than I thought it would be?” She paused to grab some clean plates and butter knives from the dishwasher, and set them down on the counter. “And then I’d always go home, and ask Tom to go with me, but we never did, he was always too busy. Which would disappoint me, and make me feel alone in the world. But I started to like going to them by myself, and in the end, I was kind of relieved that he never came with me. It wouldn’t have been the same, and I don’t think he would have even like it all that much.” 

The toaster dinged, and Cameron went to fish the bread out.

Leaning comfortably against the counter, Donna watched her, and asked, “What made you think of all that? Anything in particular?”

As they assembled their sandwiches, Cameron said, “Well, I haven’t been wandering around lately. I’ve been here, at your house.”

Donna spread mayonnaise on her toast and gently corrected her, “Our house.”

“I like that it’s your house,” Cameron insisted, as she shook some potato chips from a new bag onto her plate, “I mean that in a good way. I’ve been here, though. For the first time in a long time, or maybe ever, I don’t feel lost. And I don’t know, I thought it might be nice to go to a museum, as opposed to just ending up at one.”

The following Saturday morning, Cameron drove them up to San Francisco. They chatted happily for the forty minute drive, and then when they pulled up to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, Donna went quiet. And then she said, “Oh…you meant an art museum!”

As they entered the parking garage, Cameron said, “What do you mean, I meant an art museum? What did you think I meant?”

Timidly, Donna admitted, “I thought you meant the natural history museum.”

“What are you, ten?”

Donna frowned, “I love natural history museums.”

Cameron parked the car, and turned off the ignition. “Honestly, so do I. But who takes their girlfriend on a date to the natural history museum?!”

Donna took off her seatbelt and said, “I would be into that. That sounds like a great date!!”

They bickered, still trying to sort out their miscommunication, all the way from the parking lot up to the museum’s ticket desk. Cameron purchased their tickets, and the young woman behind the desk handed them admission stickers, and a catalog, which Donna took from her, after politely thanking her.

As they silently walked together into the first gallery, Donna said, “Well, confession: I don’t really ‘get’ art.”

Cameron shook her head irritably. “I don’t believe that. You’re a musician.”

“That’s different!”

They walked quietly around the room, stopping at photos mounted to the wall, reading the placards next to them, and then they walked into the next gallery, which was overwhelmed by one large sculpture, a 30 foot by 30 foot curtain of silk fake flower petals sewn together, and hung from the ceiling. 

“What was I just saying about not getting it?” Donna looked up at the flowers, and dejectedly huffed, “…I don’t get this.” Unsure of what else to do, she opened the catalog, and found a description of the sculpture. Quietly, Donna read the name of the artist and title of the work: “Jim Hodges, No Betweens. 1996.” She skimmed the following write up, which started with a description of how the artist’s friends and family had helped him pull apart fake flowers and iron out and prepare their loose petals, and ended with a reference to the AIDS crisis, and to the work’s sense of ‘yearning and loss’ and ‘friends and lovers who have died’. She tried to make herself read it, but couldn’t.

Cameron’s gaze was fixed on the curtain. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get it. Maybe you’re just supposed to feel it.” She looked the piece up and down, trying to wrap her mind around how tall and how broad it was. “Like with music, or a movie. No one ever says, ‘I don’t get it’ when they turn on the radio or go into a theater. You just give it your attention.”

Donna felt a rush of affection for Cameron, for her mind, for everything Donna didn’t yet know about her, and looked over at her. Unable to resist though, she countered, “Oh, people have definitely said ‘I don’t get it’ about music, just ask the rich French theater-goers who threw fruit at the first performance of Stravinky’s The Rite of Spring.”

Cameron didn’t say anything at first, and then she looked at Donna, “Wait, they threw fruit? God, people are awful.” Then, after another second, she said, “Wait — where did rich people get fruit to throw if they were in a theater?”

The skeptical scrunch of Cameron’s gloriously full, ashy blonde eye brows made Donna giggle, but then, as she thought about it, her eyes widened. “I don’t know! I just remember my high school band conductor telling us about it during rehearsal.” Mouth still slightly agape, Donna turned her attention back toward the piece of art in front of them. Absent-mindedly, she said, “I guess…maybe he meant ‘threw fruit’ in a figurative sense….” 

Cameron laughed quietly at her, and Donna tried to do just what Cameron had suggested: give the sculpture her attention. “I suppose,” she said, “that if I could feel things about your code, I can try and feel this.”

Cameron hadn’t thought about the Cardiff Giant or its BIOS in what felt like ages. A happy warmth spreading through her chest at the memory of Donna saving her code, Cameron slipped her hand into Donna’s, and whispered, “See? You know plenty about modern art.”

[wastelandcrown]

logan lark’s adventures in trying to appease his parents

CHAPTER 6: don’t lose ur head (the terrifying tales of the grimm monarchy)

Summary: Logan Lark is a fairly average high school student. By all means, he should be impressing his parents on all grounds. Except...he doesn’t exactly have a social life. So after his parents give him puppy dog eyes, he decides to join the local theatre's youth production. Good grief...His life is about to get weird isn’t it?

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Roman is a teenager who makes bad choices EXTREME edition, Remus being Remus, Intrusive Thoughts, Minor Bad Parenting, so much swearing it’s insane (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: This fic is based off an idea from @under-the-blue-moonlight. If you wanna be tagged in chapters, please ask!! I love this freaking chapter SO much but I’m really scared of how it’s going to be received. All feedback is extremely welcome!! 

Pairings: Intrulogical, Eventual Rociet, One-Sided Logicality, Platonic DRLAMP

Tagslist: @under-the-blue-moonlight @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @im-actually-ok @hauntedturkeycalzonedreamer @croftersjam15 @rainbowsixth @snaketho @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @a-soul-among-the-stars @sweet-razz-tea @the-cactus-lord

Over the course of the next month Logan learns that despite their reputations, Roman and Remus are the opposite of what everyone thinks of them.

Logan is the smartest person he knows, there is no way in hell he’d ever miss Roman’s multiple attempts to sabotage his role as Hamilton. Smart, and yet so oblivious. Each time Roman had tried to mess with Logan after he began cultivating a friendship with Remus he was miraculously saved from the torment at the last second. Remus is a hundred percent certain that Logan has no idea that he’s fighting off his brother at each and every turn. He’s not certain of much, so it’s saying a lot. There is a beautiful dichotomy in Logan’s logs of the events and the stories Remus tells about his brother’s scourge against his brand new ‘enemy’. On a page labeled ‘Roman Incidents’ in Logan’s succinct handwriting documents every incident through the month when Roman attempted to sabotage him.

July 20th - Roman tripped near my things in the drama room while holding coffee. When I went to check on my things, someone had removed the contents of my bag and filled it with around six pounds of glitter. If this happens again, throw the bag away. Glitter makes anything unsalvageable. You will keep finding it everywhere. 

Remus knew Roman had been planning something. Of course he did. Though they didn’t share a room anymore, sneaking into it had never been exceptionally hard. Neither had eavesdropping, when it counted. It counted now more than ever because Remus had become unreasonably attached to Logan and when he heard Roman talking to himself and mentioning the name of his favourite little nerd badly he knew it was now or never. It took two excruciating hours of sitting still and listening to get the juicy stuff. He almost got caught by their mother twice. She’d only been home for three days and she’d checked on Roman twice in one night. If Remus told her about the amount of effort he was putting into something she might keel over dead from shock. 

What a funny sight that would be to him. His mother, dead from the shock of his hard work to do something good, thumping onto the floor. He laughs a little, quiet enough to keep Roman from hearing. His brain supplies the rational next step of Roman running out of his room and distraughtly cradling their mother’s head in his lap. Roman sobbing. Roman blaming him. Roman screaming about how it was his fault. And it would be, if she died like that. Remus doesn’t think it’s all that funny anymore, but once the train of thought starts it can’t be stopped. He decides that eavesdropping isn’t fun anymore and makes his way to the kitchen, trying to shake the idea of his brother cursing him out for killing their mother out of his mind. 

It doesn’t really work, but he tries anyway. The kitchen is full of distractions, good and bad. The knives in the block look so enticing to his self-proclaimed ‘shitty-dick-wad brain’, but the cookies he nabs from the cupboard are so easy to shove into his mouth that he figures it evens out. He sits at the kitchen island and doesn’t even bother to turn on the light. It takes six cookies in his mouth at once before he can direct his thoughts somewhere else momentarily. How in the hell is he going to combat Roman’s plan? He spits all the cookies onto the counter as his brother walks in, flicks on the light, and sighs deeply.

“You could at least do that onto a plate.”

Remus just shrugs, so Roman speaks again, “How’s your evening been?”

“Before like...five minutes ago I was really liking it.” Which was true, Roman slides into the seat next to him and picks a cookie from the box.

“What changed?”

“Shitty brain,” He replies, “Y’know how it gets.”

“I do indeed. Do you need anything?” His voice is surprisingly soft with him, to the point where Remus has to give him a confused look before deciding what to say next. He figures out how to fuck with Roman’s plan in that moment.

“I wanna go to Party City and terrorize the night staff.” 

Roman only chuckles, Remus watches his twin put away the cookies and grab his car keys from the bowl on the counter. 

“Come on then, we can buy some of those plastic babies you like so much.”

As Remus is falling asleep later that night, his chest feels warm. He attributes it to the upcoming scheme-ruining scheming. It’s easier than admitting that that was the first time Roman had willingly hung out with him alone since elementary school. He knows the next morning that Roman is most likely buttering up because he suspects Remus knows. Which is...fair. Even if it hurts a little. They get coffee on the way to the theatre and separate. They both have important things to do. The best part about their somewhat rocky-relationship is that they always know where the other is in order to avoid each other. Remus knows that Roman has gone to see Janus and probably make heart eyes and pine over him like a dumbass. Roman knows that Remus is off drooling over his arch nemesis. Today it is more imperative than ever. During practice Remus manages to steal Logan’s backpack while he’s busy. 

He swaps the contents out with the six pounds of glitter he bought the night before and shoves Logan’s things into his bag for safe keeping. Nobody would dare look into Remus’ bag for fear of gore or weird pornography, even if he only has one in his bag at the moment. He’s shoving a small notebook in when he catches a title. “Hamilton Performance Experiment”. It takes literally all of his self-control not to immediately snoop. He makes it through, eventually meeting up with Logan and even carrying his bag to ‘be nice’ so Logan doesn’t pick up on the bag glitter. When Roman walks by with his coffee and “trips”, spilling his coffee all over Logan’s bag, Remus smiles. 

“Oh! Logan I’m so sorry! What a terrible accident!” Roman cries, ever the actor. 

Logan looks downright frantic as he lunges for his bag and rips it open. Glitter goes everywhere. Logan’s hair, Roman’s shoes, the entire dressing room floor. The look of distress fades from Logan’s face momentarily, returning full force when he realizes his things are missing. 

Remus pulls them out of his bag in secret, walking to the corner of the room, walking back and exclaiming, “What a good prank Roman! You must be taking some tricks from my book!”

When he hands the things back to Logan, Logan smiles. He decides not to ask about the notebook. 

July 27th - One of the props from the prop room was moved in with my things. I suspect Roman because of the look on his face when Remus took the fall for me. 

Just because he didn’t ask about the notebook does not mean it left his memory. By the time he gets in the car alone with his brother he realizes that Roman is pissed off at him.

“Couldn’t you have left it alone? How did you even find out!?” 

“I have my ways. Now shut up about it before I tell mom about that time in 8th grade-”

“Okay! Okay! I’m shutting up!” 

And he did. However that included no longer voicing his plans out loud. Which meant Remus had to get creative. He was very very good at getting creative. 

Dinner with their mother was much more quiet that week. Both twins brooding and not speaking with each other, their mother only prompting Roman to talk. It was too familiar in the worst possible ways. Remus despised his mother, but he knew how much his brother loved her. She was...well she was beautiful, intelligent, a very influential fashion designer, extremely supportive. Roman would go on about how perfect she was for hours. Sure, Remus could concede that their mother was beautiful, intelligent, and a very influential fashion designer, but whenever Roman talks about her he never says she’s at all a good mother. Especially not to him. He watches her laugh breathily at one of Roman’s shitty anecdotes from practice and decides he’s had enough of family dinner. He gets up and dutifully cleans his plate and places it in the dishwasher. The chef gives him a smile, and he smiles back. 

“Remus, dear,” His mother begins in her shrill voice, “If you’re not going to eat with us, at least go and shower. Your smell is unbecoming.”

Then she turns back to her food like she didn’t just attempt to insult him. Jokes on her, it takes a lot more than that to hurt his feelings. He still ends up forcing himself into the shower for thirty-five minutes that night.

The rest of the week he’s more tired than usual, which the others notice. He makes an effort to not be, he really does. When his mom is in town, everything just sucks. He hangs out with Janus three times and Virgil once to get out of the house and away from his family. The other nights he spends sitting outside the convenience store with a monster or two. He ends up calling Logan one of those nights out of need for company. Logan chuckles when Remus makes up a silly reason for calling that he can’t even remember now, but he can remember Logan’s laugh. He listens to Logan talk about the book series he’s been reading and he feels a little lighter. He never ends up finding out what Roman has planned, but it’s so easy when it’s happening right in front of him. Despite his lethargy lately, he feels a fire lit in him when the missing prop is found with Logan’s bag. 

Virgil and Janus are the only two teenagers with keys to the prop room. If Logan stole the missing prop, he would have had to steal the key. No one but the twins even knew Janus had a key, and Virgil was dead set on not letting a soul into the prop room. The idea that Logan, precious little innocent fucking lamb Logan, committed theft not once but twice enrages Remus. When they find it with his things, Logan is utterly baffled. Then he realizes the implications and his face pales. Roman calls for Thomas, spouting off about how Logan stole the prop and he should face consequences, when Remus laughs as loudly as he can. 

“Hah! You guys are so funny! You think specs could ever!? Guess my prank worked out pretty damn good if you actually think Mr.Goody-Two-Shoes could commit such a heinous fucking crime!” 

Thomas sighs, tells Remus to just ask next time, and leaves. Roman stares at his brother for a solid minute with his mouth slightly ajar. Janus and Virgil are both looking at him like he’s insane because it’s so obvious to them that Roman did it. Patton is looking not at him, but at Logan, with so much concern. And Logan...Logan stares up at Remus with the look of a small and confused animal.

“Did you really do that?”

“Of course I did! I’m the resident rat bastard, I have to cause a little recreational chaos.”

He’s pretty sure Logan believes him until they’re leaving for the day and Logan whispers a ‘Thank you’ to him as he walks by. He would have melted into the floor if Janus hadn’t put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down to whisper to him.

“Why the hell did you let Roman get away with that?” Virgil is on his other side now with a scowl.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about JJ! I committed a very heinous crime!”

“Then why did Roman ask to borrow Janus’ key earlier?” Virgil asks, and Remus drops his smile to replace it with an annoyed look. 

“He just fucking asked for it!? I can’t even believe I’m related to that half-witted twit.”

“Yeah,” Virgil scoffs, “Not really the sharpest sword in the armoury, is he?”

“Please, we’ve known that for years. What I’d like to know is what are we going to do about it?” This quieted Remus, but made Virgil smirk a little. 

Janus continued, “After the backpack incident, and now the stealing incident, I’m half-convinced we have a brand new chaos demon in the group.”

“At least Remus’ chaos is fun sometimes,” Virgil mutters, “Roman’s just an ass.”

Remus gets away with being quiet as they talk until they get into Janus’ beat up old van. He doesn’t call shotgun, doesn’t slap the car's ‘ass’ as a joke, he just climbs into the back and sits there. He’s so quiet that Janus and Virgil are a little shell shocked. 

“Remus?” Virgil asks quietly and pensively, it sounds just like that soft tone Roman used with him last week. 

He’s quiet, Janus starts the car and clicks his tongue, “I’m going to shove Roman down a flight of stairs.”

“Don’t.” He manages, and the boys in the front seats go quiet. Virgil passes him the aux cord. 

He plays “Call Them Brothers” by Regina Spektor and Janus and Virgil know that tonight will be a very quiet outing. 

They’re sitting at IHOP drawing dicks on their pancakes in syrup when Remus’ phone rings. Janus and Virgil know who’s calling the second Remus sees the caller ID and smiles. 

“Evening Logie-Bear, why do I get the pleasure of hearing your devilishly sexy voice in this IHOP tonight?” Remus says and Janus groans loudly.

“You’re at IHOP?” Is the first thing Logan says, which makes Remus smile even brighter.

“Yes, sir! I’m with Virge and Janny too, you wanna say hi?” 

Logan sounds a bit contemplative when he mutters, “I was hoping you’d be alone...”

Eavesdropping Janus and Virgil make surprised faces, Remus smacks Janus in the arm, “Oh you were, were you? Why? Phone sex?”

“I wanted to ask for an opinion on a predicament.” Virgil smirks and Janus nabs his phone to speak for Remus.

“Remus would love to-Remus let me talk-You should come have some pancakes with us-Ow, watch the face!-and tell us all about how your science is going.” Janus can hear Logan hiding his laughter through the phone as Remus wrestles with him in the booth. 

“It’s more of a philosophical predicament.”

Janus nearly sees red, eyes widening and making Remus cackle,“Why in the world would you ask Remus Grimm about phi-”

It’s silent for a few moments then Logan hears a familiar voice. “It’s Virgil, we’re at the IHOP on 81st and Green.”

Logan laughs brightly, “I’ll be there. Order something for me.”

They spend the evening with breakfast for dinner, and the four get into a fairly heated friendly debate about moral ethics. Janus isn’t sure he’s ever had more fun in his life. When he’s driving away from Virgil to drop Remus off at home, he can’t help but smile at Remus’ improved demeanor. 

“Remus,” He starts after they’re alone, “I thought you and Roman were doing better, did something happen?”

“He tried to sabotage Logan twice for entirely selfish reasons, I wouldn’t care if he dies!” Remus dramatically cries.

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

They’re quiet the rest of the ride, and Janus gets out to give Remus a hug before he goes in. Remus ignores Roman’s questions about his whereabouts and locks himself in his room to try and keep his mood up. It doesn’t work, but he tries. He does. 

August 3rd - Roman gave me a “peace offering” in the form of lunch. I am led to believe he was attempting to give me food poisoning, as Remus ate the lunch and has now come down with food poisoning.

His mother leaves for her office in Paris on August 1st. Roman cries and hugs her, says he’ll miss her, goes on and on about how it’s so terrible how she’s never home. He does this every time their mother and father leave, he has since they were young. Remus couldn’t give less of a shit. His plan now was finding out what Roman’s next move was. Which was hard because they were back to avoiding each other like the plague. They’d spent a few months getting better at being brothers, then one of their parents shows up and ruins it. This time it was great, Remus would never admit it, but it was. Roman made an effort when their parents weren’t around, a few months ago he started doing things like making dinner for them both and bringing it to him, offering to do a load of laundry for him while he was doing it, being mindful of his volume when practicing his singing and acting, all these little things. 

He’d even started initiating physical contact again, which Remus couldn’t get enough of. Literally. An occasional pat on the back, a grab of his hand to pull him somewhere, a light slap to his knee or arm when he said something distasteful. Giving physical affection to Remus was something that seemed to be unique to Roman. It had always been like that when they were younger, and Remus didn’t think he wanted it to stop. Any time he thinks about it he always drifts back to his head against Roman’s knee a few weeks ago when Roman had carded a hand through his hair and then a few minutes later practically tackled him to douse him in perfume The shit smelled awful, but afterwards Roman had slung an arm over his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. That and the closeness with Logan kept him buzzing for the next two days. 

Now there was nothing again. It was like Roman could turn off his affection for Remus and pretend he didn’t exist. Remus tried not to be angry about it, he really did, but he couldn’t stop the fire that he felt when the other people on stage got his praises and affection. Both of them were incredibly clingy, but Roman was so much worse at hiding it and it made Remus nearly scream. He piled all of his affectionate behavior onto Logan, and Logan never really minded. He’d place his head on Logan’s shoulder, hold his hand on stage, sit pressed up against him offstage. He loved it, he did. He loved protecting Logan, talking to Logan, existing in the same space as the dork was exhilarating. He hated having to protect Logan from his brother. There was no way in hell that Remus would let anything terrible happen to Logan, but there was no way he would ever let his brother’s stupid selfish decisions fall back on him. He knows he shouldn’t give a single shit, but he does. 

His tiredness fades with his mother, but he’s still exhausted because Roman keeps trying to fuck with Logan when he knows damn well Remus won’t let him. The selfish ass. This time, Roman has the gall to pull his entire scheme in front of Remus. 

“Logan,” He starts, his affected air is slightly dim today and his hands are hidden, “To apologize for my unkind actions, I have brought a peace offering.” 

Roman hands Logan a little bag from a restaurant Remus swears he recognizes. 

“Oh, thank you.” Logan says quietly, opening the bag and pulling out a wrapped burger. 

Logan takes it out and inspects it as Remus wracks his brain trying to remember where he knows the packaging. It hits him right before Logan takes a bite. This burger is from the restaurant that gave Roman food poisoning a few months ago. It looks like the same burger too. At this point, Remus is half-convinced Roman is taunting him. He’s in a bit of a panic and doesn’t think before he snatches the burger and shoves it in his mouth.

“Remus!” Both call out, the wrapper is still on the end of the burger so he pulls it out then chews and swallows the thing whole. 

He coughs and sputters for almost two minutes after, then shoots Roman an awful glare. 

“What just happened?” Logan asks, extremely puzzled. 

Roman is gawking at Remus again, “Why did you eat that!?” 

“Fuck you that’s why, you horsefucking shiteating egomaniac bastard.”

Roman walks off in a huff, Remus lays on the floor. 

“Are you alright?” Logan questions, handing him a water bottle.

Maneuvering onto his side, Remus takes a sip and his throat feels miles better, “I just straight up ate a burger whole like a fucking snake, how do you think I am dipshit?”

“Hm,” He pauses to think, “Bad.” 

Both boys laugh, and Logan joins Remus on the ground.

“I am beginning to believe your brother has a vendetta against me.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Logan pauses, looking at Remus who is still occasionally wheezing.

“Are you alright...emotionally?” Remus wheezes and laughs at the same time, sounding something similar to a goose. 

“‘Thought you didn’t know much about those, poindexter.”

“I do not. However, as your friend I feel like it’s important to ask.”

Remus just sighs, closes his eyes, and blows a raspberry at the ceiling.

“Me and Roman are complicated.”

“I can tell.” Remus laughs, Logan really is something else. 

It’s quiet when Remus asks, “Do you hate him?”

“No,” Logan’s response is measured and confident like he’s asked himself this question a hundred times, “I don’t hate him. I think he’s got some things to work out, and is taking out his frustration on me as of late.”

He keeps talking, Remus covers his closed eyes with his arm, “More importantly, do you hate him?”

He almost rockets to his feet when Logan says curiously, “Or, more interestingly, do you love him?”

It takes him nearly two and a half minutes sat up and sipping water, watching Logan pack his things, to muster up the will to tell the truth. 

“Of course I love him. Nobody else is gonna fucking do it.” 

He could barely comprehend Logan’s response to his admission so he shoved it out of his mind with all the force he could muster, then waved a goodbye to him when he parted and left Remus with his mind. 

He ends up going home early because his awful decision ended up actually giving him food poisoning. He takes a sick day the next day, and spends most of the time feeling like shit physically and emotionally. His brain has kept tabs on all the shitty feelings and thoughts he’s had and is now playing out a full length shitty horror movie about his life and his dumb brother and his shitty summer crush. Then there’s that conversation with Logan. The last sentence is running through him over and over again. He keeps coming back to it, though he’s sure Logan didn’t even mean anything by it. Seventeen words and his world was sent spinning. 

“Ah, I understand, it’s hard to love somebody when they don’t act like they love you back.” 

Logan doesn’t even know the half of it. 

August 20th - Roman asked me directly to leave the production. Though I admire the effort, all it achieved was a quite awful night, and an angry lecture(?) of sorts from Janus. I do not believe Roman will be trying this tactic ever again.

Roman tries to apologize multiple times, but something angry and petty in Remus doesn’t accept any of them. They’re both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. By the time the thirteenth of August rolls around they aren’t on speaking terms again and everyone can tell that it’s taking its toll on them both. Remus acts out more than usual against people he doesn’t usually target. He scared an ensemble girl one too many times, to the point where she ended up slapping him. He deserved it, but it still stung. Roman poured himself into his role more than ever, but it only ended up stressing him out even more than usual. When his voice so much as wavered on stage it shattered his confidence. 

It affected their friends as well. Roman spent more time with Patton and Emile, avoiding Remus and Janus as much as he could possibly manage. Janus rolled his eyes but just resigned himself to the tech booth with Virgil, Remus, and Logan. The only good thing that was happening lately was Janus’ newfound attachment to Logan. The pair's insane intelligence and love of debate meant one was nearly guaranteed every other time they were in the same room. It was exhilarating to watch, and probably exhilarating to take part in. Remus didn’t much care for debates, but watching Janus and Logan go at each other with an occasional snarky comment or new suggestion from Virgil was making him grow a fondness for them. At this point there was barely anybody in the theatre who didn’t adore Logan.

The staff, the cast, the tech. Everyone adored him. He was smart, diligent, and hard-working. He asked questions, didn’t undermine others, and respected the entire cast's talent at what they did. It was magical to watch everyone in the auditorium drift under Logan’s thumb. Remus was included. They were saving Say No To This until near last because of the lack of dancing involved, but it didn’t even matter. Say No To This was not needed in Remus’ seduction plan because Logan seemed to gravitate towards him with ease. He is a damn good friend and Remus is determined to make that boy his bride. 

Despite his growing lack of sleep and reliance on caffeine, Remus is skating by just fine without anything bad happening. Until his brother decides to fuck with his life again. He’s on the thin line between being shitty in secret and full-on breakdown, Roman really isn’t helping his case. Remus is lounging on the floor while Logan reads in a chair next to the makeup mirrors. He hears someone enter, but isn’t bothered enough to move. 

Ever the polite, Logan greets the newcomer “Ah, Hello Roman, how are you?”

“I need to ask you something.” His brother asks, and Remus turns his head away from the noise. 

“Alright, what is it?” Logan sounds so measured and calm.

There is a long pause, “What is it going to take for you to realize you should quit?”

The calmness in Logan’s voice wavers, and Remus can hear it wobble, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! I mean, it’s obvious I've been trying to get you to leave, so what’s been keeping you!?” Roman raises his voice near instantly, that same childish selfishness burns from his tongue. 

“It is none of your business.” There’s a dignified fire raging under his voice now, it’s like he’s been practicing for this. 

“You’re not even a good actor! From what I can tell, you’re entirely uninteresting and way too intellectual to be here!” Roman continues, Remus feels the urge to get up but he can’t find the will to move. 

“Roman, please think before you say something you regret.” Remus knows what Roman is going to say before it happens.

“No!” His brother is so typical, “You have no idea what this role means to me, why can’t you just leave!?”

That’s typical too, Remus opens his eyes and looks at the pair. Logan looks pissed off, Roman looks pissed off, and Janus is watching from the doorway. 

“I try very hard to give you the benefit of the doubt in regards to your debilitating egomania, but it is beginning to appear as if your whole sense of stability and purpose is built upon some false reality where you need to be the star at every possible moment. Go to therapy about it, and leave me alone.” Logan spits this in Roman’s face, then turns back to his book. 

Clenching his fists and staring at the ground, Roman looks almost defeated until he catches Remus staring and his face morphs into something so bitter he has to force himself to look away. 

“No. I will not leave you alone until I get this part. None of you have any idea how much I need it.” 

“Roman-” Janus speaks up daringly from his spot by the door, his tone is enough to warn him to stand down. 

Roman’s eyes are squeezed shut, his fists are clenched, “I know we have the same face, but I’m not a failure like my brother.”

That sends Remus to his feet and out the door before anyone can say a word. As he passes Janus on the way out Janus tries to stop him but he pushes past him, past everyone, and out the front door of the theatre. 

Janus turns on Roman in an instant, walking slowly into the room and shutting the door with purpose. Roman’s eyes are sewed shut and all the guilt he tries to push down floods him when he makes eye contact with his pissed off friend. 

“Roman, we need to have a talk.” 

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze pt. 9/25

Previous

The winter holidays were a chaotic affair for the wolf pack. Since their own families were a mess it had become tradition to come together as a team and spend the Solstice as one big found family. This year was extra special because it was Ciri’s first winter with them and her first without her own family. This year was Lambert’s turn to host and he was going to make damned sure it was the best Solstice that the team had ever had.

The only problem was his cooking skills.

Cooking had never been his strong point.

When he’d lived with his brother, Eskel had done most of the cooking in the house and had developed quite a passion for it. So Lambert, like any good younger sibling, had quite happily taken advantage of every second of it. Of course, once living together had reached boiling point and they’d decided it was best for everyone to move apart, Lambert’s quality of diet had dropped considerably. He now lived on ready meals and takeaways most of the time, unless Eskel took pity on him, which happened on a fairly regular basis.

He stared at the cook book in front of him. The woman on front was smiling brightly in a sunlit kitchen and holding a ridiculously picturesque pie.

“Fuck it.” Lambert growled as he flipped through the pages to the right section.

He’d brought all the right ingredients and he’d carefully written down all the timings for everything, just like he’d seen Eskel do in the past. He read through the recipe for the roast lamb a couple more times before tying an apron round his waist and pulling his hair back into a bun.

“Cooking. I can do this. Easy as pie!” He grumbled as he pulled the ingredients from the fridge.

Today was all about prep, chopping veg and potatoes ready for cooking tomorrow, baking cookies for snacks during the day. He was also making an onion soup to start with that could be reheated tomorrow. He grabbed his peeler and stared down at the sack of potatoes.

There were so many fucking potatoes.

He was going to be here all day.

He should probably ask for help. Eskel always called him and Renfri round to help chop shit up.

“Fuck off, I don’t need help.” He grumbled and got to work with the potatoes.

He was about three potatoes in when he decided he was going to die of boredom. He washed the starch off his hands and put on some music. The sound of acoustic guitar filled the kitchen. It was some unknown folk band that he’d discovered online by chance, called Dandelion and the Bards. The two lead singers Dandelion and Priscilla harmonised so perfectly that it was like they’d almost been born to sing together.

He spent the next hour or so dancing around his kitchen with the potato peeler and singing along to the songs. The music was so loud he almost didn’t hear the doorbell. He paused, turned the music off and dumped the potato in the bucket of water.

The doorbell went off another three times in quick succession.

Eskel.

“I’m coming you ass!” He called out as the doorbell continued to ring.

He swung the door open with more force than necessary and glared at his brother who was grinning back at him. Geralt was stood behind him with Ciri perched on his shoulders. Geralt raised an eyebrow at his appearance and Lambert looked down at his starch covered apron. He huffed but didn’t say anything, for Ciri’s sake.

“Ah Ciri! Hello little lion cub!” He waved the peeler at the young girl and then paused. “Wait. What day is it?”

“Don’t panic, you big lump. We’re here to help.” Eskel pulled him into a hug and thumped him on the back.

“Oh. Yeah. Well I have it all under control.” He growled.

“Nice singing.” Geralt said with a smirk.

He felt his cheeks heat up, damned ginger complexion. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Sooo… what’s the plan of attack?” Eskel asked as he pushed through into the house. “Apart from putting the heating on. It’s freezing in here!”

Lambert shrugged. “Kitchen’s hot.”

The four of them made their back into the kitchen. Eskel pulled out a bundle of aprons from his rucksack and a cloth carrier that contained his set of actually sharp knives. It took about three minutes to delegate the tasks between the four of them. Eskel was in charge of marinading the lamb and making sure it was properly trimmed and ready to go in the oven. Lambert was to finish the potatoes and start on the veg. Geralt and Ciri would be on cookies. It was a tad cramped in his kitchen with all four of them working together and they almost crashed into each other at every turn but they were laughing and chatting away.

It was actually sort of fun.

He was starting to understand why Eskel enjoyed cooking so much.

They sorted out a game plan for the next day. Eskel went through his list of times and corrected any mistakes. Honestly, how was he supposed to know you were meant to let the lamb rest out of the oven after cooking. Surely that just made the food go cold. He hated cold food but Eskel insisted it would be ok but they had to make sure the plates were heated. In the morning Ciri and Lambert would make cinnamon buns together for team breakfast, Eskel would be in charge of the savoury snacks and salad, and Geralt would make the mulled wine and hot spiced apple juice for Ciri.

That way Lambert wouldn’t be stuck in the kitchen for the whole day and he’d actually get to spend some time with the wolf pack. He breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed down onto the sofa with a beer in his hand. Ciri was sat by his feet with a glass of chocolate milk and Geralt and Eskel were lounged out on the arm chairs.

“See that wasn’t so bad.” Eskel grinned.

“I would have been fine.” He growled back.

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. “Seemed like you were having a party in there before we arrived.”

He shrugged. “I like to cook to music.”

Eskel almost choked on his beer. “You don’t like to cook.”

He growled. “I do too!”

“You never once cooked!”

“Only because I knew you liked it so much!” He shot back.

“I had fun!” Ciri announced loudly. “Even if Dad did drop flour in my hair.”

“Sorry, Princess.” Geralt grumbled.

“It’s ok! I blame Uncle Lambert! He crashed into you.”

Geralt laughed. “I blame Uncle Lambert too.”

“So what was the music you were listening to, Uncle Lambert?” Ciri asked as she wiped chocolate milk off her nose.

Lambert chuckled as she scrunched her nose up. She still managed to miss a huge smear of chocolate that was on her cheek. He wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to get chocolate that far away from her mouth. Geralt sighed at went to the kitchen to get a damp cloth to help her clean up.

“A band I found on the internet.” Lambert smiled. “You wanna hear some of their stuff?”

Ciri nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please! Dad get off!” She squirmed as Geralt attacked her with the kitchen roll.

“Mucky cub.” He laughed.

“I can do it myself!” She squealed and grabbed for the paper towel. Geralt let her take it and she scrubbed ferociously at her face until she was sure it was all clean. “Good?”

“Perfect.” He ruffled her hair fondly and she grumbled under her breath like an angry kitten.

Lambert went to get his phone so he could put his music back on. The melodic tones of Dandelion’s guitar filled the room. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Eskel chirped up.

“Thought you liked the heavy metal stuff.”

Lambert shrugged. “I’m a man of many tastes.”

“I like it!” Ciri agreed. “Sounds like Mr Jaskier’s playing.”

Eskel and Lambert both rolled their eyes at that. They heard enough about Jaskier from Geralt at work. They had almost forgotten that it was all because Ciri was just as fond of her teacher.

The first song was sung almost entirely by Priscilla. It was a soft heartbreaking number that always left him feeling emotionally strung out. It was only about halfway through that he remembered the cursing and he coughed loudly over the swear words earning a glare from Geralt. Ciri didn’t seem to notice though, thankfully.

The next song began just as quietly on the guitar but this was one of Dandelion’s. The moment he started to sing, Ciri began to scream excitedly and Geralt spat a mouthful of beer out onto the floor.

“Mr Jaskier!!” Ciri shrieked.

“Calm down, Cub.” Geralt spluttered. “I’m sure it just sounds like him.”

Lambert and Eskel exchanged a despairing look.

“No!” Ciri stomped. “It is him!”

Geralt looked at Lambert with a fierce glare. “What the hell, Lambert?”

He put his hands up in defence. “Woah now. I didn’t know anything about Ciri’s teacher.”

“Jaskier isn’t exactly a common name.” Geralt challenged angrily.

“Exactly!” Lambert cried. “It’s not Jaskier!”

“It is!” Ciri demanded with tears welling up in her eyes.

“Well what’s the band called?” Eskel asked as he scooped Ciri up into a hug.

“Dandelion and the Bards!” Lambert exclaimed. “Not Jaskier. The guy singing is Dandelion.”

“No!!” Ciri cried.

“Ciri, Princess.” Geralt said calmly and tried to smooth the young girl’s hair as she squirmed in Eskel’s arms.

“No!!” She repeated.

Lambert sighed and turned the music off. “I’m sorry Ciri. It doesn’t say anything about any Jaskier.”

But it didn’t matter. Ciri was having a meltdown. No matter what they did or said helped her to calm down and in the end Geralt had to bundle the screaming girl into the car with the promise that they would email Mr Jaskier about the band. Eskel left soon afterwards with the excuse that his goat needed feeding and Lambert was left alone once more.

“Ah blessed peace.” He sighed happily as he watched Eskel amble down the road towards his own house.

__________

For the second day in the row, Lambert’s kitchen was covered in flour. Ciri’s hair was now as white as her father’s and her fingers were covered in sticky cinnamon sugar. Lambert’s shirt was covered in tiny floury handprints from where Ciri had hug attacked him, her tantrum from the previous day now a distant memory. He’d reluctantly made sure to uncheck all of Dandelion’s songs from his Solstice playlist. He would miss the calming melodies of his favourite band but it was not worth another screaming match from the youngest wolf cub.

Ciri was dancing happily in the middle of the kitchen. She twirled and leapt about effortlessly with all the energy of a six year old. She was incredibly graceful and Lambert wondered whether Geralt had secretly enrolled her in some sort of dance lessons. That was a thing girls did right? He groaned as he thought about his present for Ciri. He’d probably completely fucked up. He’d bought her a wooden sword and matching bow and arrow set, something he’d always wanted as a kid but never had the good fortune to receive. Ciri would like that right?

He ran a hand through his own hair with a sigh. How the fuck was the White Wolf raising a daughter? It seemed like only yesterday they were all just getting pissed at the pub after every shift. Lambert had to admit. Geralt had guts. He would probably have had a meltdown if the task had been left to him but Geralt seemed to have taken to it pretty well.

“Uncle Lambert!!” Ciri giggled excitably.

“Yeah?” He scowled at her mischievous grin.

“You made your hair all white!” She pointed up at him.

He looked down at his hands in horror and sure enough they were covered in sticky floury dough.

“Fudge.” He caught the swear just in time.

“You look like Dad!” Ciri exclaimed as she spun round in a pirouette.

“So do you!” He shot back.

“Do not!”

“Do too!” He argued and scooped her up into his arms. “And I’m right because I’m the adult!”

“That’s not true!” Ciri countered. “Mr Jaskier says even adults make mistakes!”

“Mr Jaskier hasn’t met me.” He growled.

Ciri laughed. “Yes he has! See you made a mistake!”

“I was testing you.” He grumbled and flushed as he realised the young girl was right. He had met Jaskier at the school back in October.

“Suuure.” Ciri sang. “Now let me down! I want to open my presents!”

Lambert chuckled and dropped the girl gently back on the ground. She sped off out of the kitchen like a blur. It was almost certainly a mistake letting her dip her fingers in the butter and sugar. He grinned. The sugar crash was Geralt’s problem. He was the fun uncle and got to enjoy eating sugar out of the pot. He squatted in front of the oven to check on their creation. The warmth seeped right into his bones and he hummed contentedly. It had been a cold couple of weeks and there was just something unsurpassable about the glow of a warm oven, especially when it contained baked goods. The kitchen was full of the smell of baking and cinnamon, the perfect scent for the winter holidays.

“Wolf!” Vesemir barked from the doorway sternly.

Lambert looked up sharply and almost toppled over from his squat.

“Exactly how much sugar did you give the cub?” Vesemir muttered wearily. “She’s bouncing off the walls.”

Lambert shrugged. “It’s Solstice. Give her a break.”

“Smells good.” Vesemir nodded at the oven with a softening smile. “We’ll make a chef out of you yet.”

Soon enough the oven timer went off and the kitchen was crowded by hungry firefighters. Vesemir ordered them to queue up properly and in no time they were all crammed into the living room. The fireplace was lit and crackling. Ciri stared into the flames, mesmerised by the ever changing patterns of the fire licking up the chimney. Lil’ Bleater was curled up next to her licking at her hands. Geralt had put on a pan of mulled wine and a smaller pan of spiced apples juice for his daughter and the spicy scents had permeated the air. It was warmth and homely. Lambert grinned as he looked around at his family. He’d never felt so at home in his house before.

“Presents!” Ciri demanded as she tore her gaze away from the fireplace. Her face was now covered in icing and crumbs, and her emerald eyes seemed to dance in the light of the fire.

The sound of laughter filled the air. Renfri and Vesemir got to work distributing the presents until everyone had a pile. Naturally the young girl launched towards the biggest present but Geralt had her in his arms before she could tear the brown paper off.

“Dad!” She whined and struggled to get free.

“That one is last.” He ordered. “Promise me?”

She glared furiously at the floor but mumbled an agreement under her breath.

“Good.” He let her go and she picked up the smallest present instead. She looked up at Geralt to make sure it was ok and he nodded with a small smile.

Ciri tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a small jewellery box. She opened it with an adorable confused expression on her face.

“Did you check who it was from?” Vesemir asked.

“Sure.” Ciri growled but Lambert didn’t miss the way she sneaked a glance at the shreds of wrapping paper on her lap that were already being chewed up by Eskel’s demon goat. “Auntie Yen!”

“What is it, Princess?” Geralt asked.

“A necklace, with a bird!” She held the box up to Geralt.

“Looks like a swallow.” Geralt mused.

“That’s what Uncle Vesemir calls me!” Ciri exclaimed happily. “Help me put it on!” She thrust the box into his hands.

Geralt fumbled a bit with the clasp but wouldn’t let Renfri help him and eventually Ciri had a beautiful silver necklace around her neck. The swallow pedant was embedded with what looked like emeralds, and knowing Yennefer, they actually were emeralds.

Most of Lambert’s presents were new pieces of gym kit which suited him just fine. His old boxing gloves had sorely needed replacing so he was very pleased with Renfri’s gift. Although he knew it was probably so they would have an excuse to spar again without him blaming his gloves every time he lost. Vesemir had bought him a new set of guitar strings and a subscription to his favourite boxing magazine, Eskel and Geralt had come together to get him a brand new set of weights, one’s he’d been eyeing up for months but hadn’t been able to justify the costs. Yennefer’s gift was bottle of very expensive vodka that he’d had once in a bar on holiday and had never forgotten. Ciri had bought him a DVD of a film they’d watched together in the summer and a box of his favourite chocolates.

Vesemir had a brand new collection of history and gardening books. He was settled into his arm chair closest to the fireplace with his nose buried in one the books. Next to him was a crystal whiskey glass that Yennefer had bought him. The damned witch seemed to be intent on showing them all up this year with her fancy job and her even fancier salary but who was he to complain?

Eskel had his arms full of new goat supplies from most of team. He turned round to show the little bastard his new stuff when they realised he was missing.

“Where’s Lil’ Bleater?” Eskel frowned as he looked around the room.

Lambert shrugged. The last he’d seen of the goat he’d been munching on brown wrapping paper. Ciri leapt to her feet and started looking for clues to track the goats movements. Something she’d seen on one of her tv shows.

“How about the kitchen?” Geralt suggested. “Goats like food right?”

“Everyone likes food.” Renfri poked the silver-haired man in the arm. “We sort of need it to survive.”

“Goats really like food though.” Geralt insisted.

“Goats eat anything.” Lambert countered. “He could just as well be in the bathroom by that logic.”

“Well I’ve looked under all the wrapping paper and sofas so he’s not in here!” Ciri chimed up from where she was buried half under cushions and half under brown paper. “Oooh what if we track his smell? Lil’ Bleater stinks!”

Eskel gasped at the accusation. “He’s a very clean goat! I take good care of him.”

“There’s a reason Vesemir bought you fancy pet shampoo.” Lambert smirked and punched his brother in the arm.

“Shut it.” Eskel grumbled. “He’s a handsome boy.”

“Who stinks!” Ciri agreed.

“I still think we should try the kitchen.” Geralt insisted and then paused looking at Ciri thoughtfully. “I think I can smell goat from that direction.”

Ciri squealed and ran into the kitchen. “Fucking liar.” Lambert hissed under his breath earning a smirk from Geralt.

They trudged after the young girl. There was no obvious sign of the goat but Lambert could hear a strange scuffling sound coming from the oven.

“He wouldn’t jump in a hot oven would he?” Lambert asked.

Ciri yelled at him for that and hit him squarely in the chest with her wooden sword. Lambert seized the opportunity to fall dramatically to his knees, pretending to be fatally wounded. He let some of his weight fall onto Ciri who shrieked underneath him.

“Uncle Lambert!”

“You got me real good, little lion cub.” He groaned as she tried to hold back his weight. He was still supporting himself enough that she wouldn’t get hurt but she didn’t need to know that. “This might just be my last day in this world.”

“Get off!” Ciri growled. “I didn’t hurt you!”

“I am wounded!” He fell to the floor and pulled her down on top of him.

“You’re an asshole.” Ciri grumbled and there was an echo of shocked gasps from the adults in the  room. “What? It’s not a swear!”

“And it’s true.” Eskel added.

“It is true.” Geralt agreed.

Lambert glared at them both. “Screw you.”

“You’re awfully loud for someone who just died.” Renfri pointed out and he had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t swear colourfully at her.

“Yeah! I told you I didn’t hurt you!” Ciri poked his chest.

A loud bleating ended the argument there.

“Lil’ Bleater!” Eskel cried happily.

Seconds later the a fluffy horned head poked out from under the oven. Lambert hadn’t even realised the gap between the oven and his kitchen floor was big enough for the goat to hide under. He was only a little goat but still it seemed like an impossible accomplishment.

Eskel picked up his beloved pet and swung him round in a big hug. “I missed you buddy! No hiding under ovens again, alright?”

The goat bleated.

“I know, I know. The oven smells of yummy food but you could have been hurt!” Eskel continued.

“Melitele save us.” Renfri sighed and topped up her mulled wine from the pan before stalking back into the lounge. So they could finish unwrapping the presents.

Eskel clipped on Lil’ Bleaters brand new collar and kept the mischievous goat in his lap as he unwrapped his last present, petting his sandy white fur absentmindedly.

Lambert had bought his brother a new cookbook that he was absolutely not allowed to open in front of Ciri. The names of the recipes were all very crude and there were pictures to match. Eskel had barely removed the paper before bundling it into his bag. His face flushed with embarrassment as Lambert cackled until his stomach began to ache. Ciri obviously asked what the big joke was and Eskel grumbled some lame excuse that made no sense. Luckily Ciri seemed content to let it go as long as she could open her next present. Vesemir had bought her a collection of new books after hearing so much about her love of school and reading. Some of them were a little hard for her age but Geralt would be able to read them with her.

Renfri only had two presents. Ciri had bought her a leather bracelet with wolves stitched into the band chasing each other’s tails all around the strap and howling at some unseen moon. The wolf pack and Yennefer had all teamed up to get her a decorative dagger that she’d seen at a craft fair over the summer. It was a beautiful blade, engraved with some kind of fantastical elven language and there was a stunning moonstone embedded into the hilt. It had been extortionately expensive but between the lot of them they had managed to afford it. Renfri’s eyes had lit up when she’d ripped the paper off the box, not quite believing it until she’d carefully lifted off the lid with shaking hands.

“There’s no way.” She whispered and then pulled them into a group hug. Even Vesemir put his book down to pat her awkwardly on the back. The blade fell from her lap with a clatter but thankfully she hadn’t quite managed to unsheathe it.

Ciri pouted at the sudden outburst of emotion but Renfri pulled her into the hug as well. “Your’s was better obviously! You’re the only person to get me their own present. These guys cheated.”

Ciri preened at that and stuck her tongue out at the rest of them.

The hug fell apart when Lil’ Bleater head butted Eskel in the back and they all toppled in a pile on the floor, much to the oldest wolf’s amusement. After that it was Ciri’s turn to open another present. Renfri bought her a new colouring book with glittery pens that Ciri loved. She had a strange obsession with anything glittery. The young girl declared it was because glitter was obviously magical and the rest of the team just couldn’t understand its power.

Geralt’s presents were all of a practical nature, a new toolbox from Vesemir, a couple of new shirts from Yennefer with a letter telling him that he had to wear them or else she would know. Ciri giggled at that but Geralt just looked at the freshly pressed black shirts in disgust. He was definitely more of a baggy t-shirt kind of guy but at least Yennefer hadn’t strayed from his usual colour scheme. Renfri had bought him some new stirrups for Roach. Lambert had bought him a new pair of boots after Geralt had complained about his old ones leaking following a particularly rainy shift at work. Eskel had made a picture frame filled with photographs of their little family. He’d even included a picture of Ciri with her parents and grandparents. The whole team had gotten a little sniffly at that one. Ciri was still yet to get off of Eskel’s lap and had promptly decided that he was the best uncle.

Geralt also had another present in the form of an envelope that he tucked into the pocket of his jeans. Lambert raised an eyebrow at that but Geralt just shrugged it off.

After Geralt’s presents Ciri was the only one with any presents left. She got a new wolf onesie from Eskel, further cementing his place as favourite uncle, much to Lambert’s displeasure. He vowed to make up for it on her birthday. He hated it when Eskel got one up on him.

And then it was time for Ciri’s last present and the last present of the day before they had to get busy in the kitchen for dinner.

She pulled at the paper excitedly and screamed when the guitar case fell into her lap.

“You got me a guitar!!” She shrieked.

Geralt winced at the high pinched tone of her voice and Lambert didn’t blame him. He was sitting across the room and even his ears were ringing. Geralt shook his head. “I got you a Ukulele.”

“A ukulele?” Ciri scrunched her nose up. “Does Mr Jaskier play the Ukulele?”

Geralt nodded. “He can. He thought it might be a better fit for you. It’s like a mini guitar and you’ve still got little hands. There’s some music in there too. Once you learn you’ll be able to read it just like Mr Jaskier.”

“Will he teach me?” Ciri asked brightly and Geralt shook his head.

“Jaskier won’t have much time outside of class to teach you but he has recommended a friend of his.” Geralt explained but Ciri was already scowling.

“I want Mr Jaskier to teach me!” She pouted.

“I’m sure if you ask nicely he can show you some things at school?” Eskel suggested.

“And you wouldn’t want to upset his friend.” Vesemir added from his place at the fireplace.

“Her name is Priscilla and she’s very excited to meet you. You’ll be starting lessons after school when term starts.” Geralt pulled his daughter into a hug.

Lambert almost dropped his mug of mulled wine.

“Sorry what?”

Everyone turned to face him with matching confused expressions on their faces.

“Lessons are after school?” Geralt repeated, raising his eyebrow at Lambert.

“No no… What was her name?” Lambert’s hands were trembling around his mulled wine.

“Priscilla?” Geralt repeated slowly. “He didn’t mention her last name.”

“Fuck!” He cursed.

Ciri gasped and pointed her finger accusingly at him and everyone in the room glared fiercely at him.

“Dandelion is Jaskier!” He yelled out to try and defend himself.

Ciri squealed happily and all the colour drained from Geralt’s face at the revelation.  

“What the fuck, Lambert?”

______

Next

[lou-is-creative]

Unpredictable (pt11)

ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ: 6 Underground

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: Four/Billy // Eight/???

ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ: Four/Billy x male!Oc

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 10: Play by the rules

ꜱᴏɴɢ:   Bishop briggs - white flag

𝔹𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥!

AN: Pic isn’t mine

Crinkled bedsheets, head buried in his pillow. Bare skin against soft fabric and the faint scent of him. It was peace and it was safety, and it was comfort.

Eight twisted slightly. He titled his head to the side, eyes still closed. He was awake for a while now. But he refused to open his eyes. His abdomen rested on the mattress while his arms were crossed under the pillow he was holding. Only his lower body was covered by the white blanket, but he was too lazy to pull it up.

The room next door seemed just as peaceful as his. Seemed, because within one of the two persons laying on the bed, there was no peace at all. Fours eyes were opened. He was staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were rambling through his head.

There he was, laying right next to a beautiful woman who rested her head on his chest, peacefully sleeping, and still, he couldn't stop thinking about the boy next door. The boy whom he went outside with in the night, the boy who made him laugh all the time. The boy who became his best friend, although they didn't know each other for long yet.

Thinking about it, about him, Four got awfully aware of the fact that he actually didn't know his friend at all. And he didn't know him. They didn't know each other’s names and they didn't know the shit they've been through. Why was Eight this good with knives? Why did One call him a good driver? Why did he choose this car? Why did he live with his grandparents? And why was he so encouraged to end this mission so fast?  Was it something personal?

"Billy?"

Amelia's voice was soft but it struck him out of nowhere. He blinked and turned his head to her so he could face her.

"Since when are you wearing that?"

She asked confused and Billy looked down on himself, realizing that he hadn't undressed as he came back inside. He was still wearing Eights Hoodie which was a little tight for his taste and height. And he was still in his boxershorts.

"I went to the bathroom in the night and fell asleep like this again."

He lied as he looked down on himself. Amelia stroked over the fabric, thinking a little.

"I've never seen this one on you. It looks quite new as well."

She played with the rim of the pullover, revealing a little bit of Billy’s stomach.

"It's uhm, I just grabbed it, I guess. Maybe it's Eights and it fell out of his bag. I should return it."

The girl looked at him, a brow raised.

"Why would it be in your wardrobe then?"

"I... threw all the clothes I had into the wardrobe again so my room would be clean. This must have been a mistake. Must have grabbed it along with other stuff and just threw it inside the wardrobe."

He mumbled and sat up, rubbing his eyes a little and yawning.

Amelia scanned him and sat up too, holding the blanket up to cover her body.

"Where are my clothes?"

She asked and Billy blinked shortly before he realized that she wanted him to search for them. And so he did, collecting all the items he could find.

While Amelia got dressed, the blonde man grabbed a shirt, fresh boxers and pants to do the same.

It was quiet between them. At least until Five stood up.

"So... What are we?"

She asked unsurely while she fixed her hair. Four turned around, one brow raised.

"Human?"

He asked back and Five scoffed while shaking her head.

"No, I mean, what's between us, what... are... we?

"Ah that's what you mean."

Four said, turning back to face his wardrobe. His heart sank right into his pants as he bit his lip. What could possibly be the correct answer? The one where both of them were happy?

"We are friends, right?"

He paused for a second.

"I don't want this to change anything between us."

Unsurely, he turned around to face her again. Just to realize, that whatever the right answer would have been, it wasn't his. Amelia looked a little hurt. She definitely wasn't happy. But before Billy had to come up with something to fix it, someone knocked on the door.

"Hey Four, you wanna go get groceries with me?"

It was Eight. Fours eyes lit up. Never had someone opened a door faster than the blonde in that particular moment.

"Groceries?"

He asked and grinned at Eight. He looked at him for a while, taking everything in, every detail about the small boy with the slim but yet muscular figure. He was wearing a pullover today. A dark blue pullover with a small rose printed on the left side of his chest.

"Yeah, I just wanted to grab some food to realize that there was no food to grab. I asked One about it and he told me to get some, so that's kinda what I'm doing now."

Eights left hand nervously fumbled on the skin on his neck.

"And I was curious whether you'd accompany me?"

His soft voice was different today. He sounded a little more... how do I describe it? Tender? But Four didn't mind the sudden change of sound. He just nodded.

"Of course, I'm totally in!"

It still is a mystery to everyone, why Four never really noticed how relieved Eight looked. A cheeky smile spread over his lips, not paying enough attention to notice how Amelia was watching every second of their interaction. To be fair, Four had already forgotten about her.

"Great, meet me at the car, I'll be installing the new licence plate."

The moment ended as fast as it had begun and Four was pulled back into reality by the hand of a woman on his shoulder.

"Seems like your definition of friendship isn't a very common one, isn't it?"

Amelia’s eyes focused on his, pinning him down in the moment, making him weak. He hadn't experienced a glare like this ever since he joked about Eights height as he first met him. It was quite funny how he still remembered his stare more clearly than anything else. How his amber eyes had him pinned against the wall, losing his breath for as long as their eyes locked. All of the sudden, Four had this warm feeling inside of his chest, his hands were tingling.

Must be her, he thought to himself before grinning and pulling her close.

"I said I didn't want us to change. But Friends and... close Friends is something different, isn't it?"

Amelia held her breath for a second.

"I'll be back."

Four winked at her and walked out happily, leaving his 'close friend' alone in his room.

Eight was walking around in the kitchen with Two. Together they both seemed to figure out what to buy.

"Oh, what about alcohol? I think we could use some?"

"Eight, we do have enough alcohol here. Focus on what we have written down and don't buy any more or less than that."

"But it already looks like we have to buy enough stuff to survive an apocalypse? Why not get a little alcohol as well?"

Eight asked, leaning on the kitchen counter.

"I agree."

Four contributed as he was walking into the room, smirking a little. Eight turned around slightly, throwing his friend a cocky smirk back.

"Buy what we need, not more, not less. Understood?"

Two, who held the money they required in her hands, looked at the two younger men with the glare she was well known for. Eight sighed and stretched a little before he gave in.

"Understood."

As soon as Two handed the money to him, she already saw this going downhill. She had had her doubts about the two of them going without supervision and the smile on Fours face just proved her right.

"Play by the rules. We have a lot to lose."

She warned them before they walked out of the door. The half-hearted 'Yeah' from both of them worried her, but not to the point where she would have stopped them.

Three, who had been watching her handle the two young ghosts, wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek softly.

"You'd make a decent mother."

He said and Two scoffed, not knowing whether she'd like to kill him or to kiss him. But she often struggled with this particular question if she was being honest.

Eight and Four were already sitting in the car.

"It's even nice from the inside!"

Four exclaimed excitedly while brushing his fingers over the leather seat. Eight smirked proudly.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, isn't it? It costed me a lot of money but it was so worth it."

The younger put the keys down and buckled his seatbelt before he started the car and made a sharp U-turn to rush off into the city. Four laughed, adrenaline rushing through his veins as Eight sped up more and more. The music blasting over the speakers was only increasing their feeling of absolute power. They felt unstoppable, mighty and free. They felt like two teens who finally managed to get away from their toxic households.

As soon as a street was remotely visible, Eight had to reduce the speed drastically. They didn't want to get caught. Four turned down the volume of the music, grinning at Eight and Eight grinned back. They might be two adult men, but they were as lost in the moment as two teenage boys who finally found their freedom.

"That was so fucking cool!"

Four exclaimed as he looked at his new best friend.

"That was nothing!"

Eight started laughing a little before he turned his head to face the street. His navigation system was on mute, he only looked at it from time to time to take the right road.

"What do you mean, nothing?"

Four asked interested and leaned back while looking at Eight.

"Can you go faster?"

Eight nodded and smiled. He seemed to be remembering something.

"I don't know if I am allowed to tell you, so we are going to exchange some information. I will know something about you and you about me, deal?"

Fours smile turned into a big grin much faster than he could comprehend the complete meaning of the sentence.

"Okay, you go first!"

The words spilled from Eights lips quickly. Probably because he was still unsure whether this was a good idea to begin with. Four let out a soft hum while thinking about the information he was about to give to his friend. The low voice of his combined with the vibrations caused by the hum itself had Eights body shiver of a second. He enjoyed the feeling a lot. Maybe even a little too much for his own taste. Shallowly, he stroked over his arm to calm his nervous skin.

"As I was about sixteen, I had started with parkour running and I had been skateboarding for more than ten years by then."

Eight nodded shortly before he started to grin slightly.

"I have never seen you skateboarding but judging from the number of years you have been doing it, I assume that you are really good..."

"How old do you think I am?"

"About twenty-two? How old do you think I am?"

"I honestly don't know. I would say about nineteen or twenty, not older."

Silence spread, neither of them knew whether they should reveal their age or not.

"I'm nineteen, but I'll be twenty soon."

Eight started as he took a deep breath. It felt right to open up a little. To allow the bond that was between them to grow. For most of his life, Eight had been lying about almost everything to almost everyone. He had never been the kind of person someone would like to be friends with. Simply because he didn't want to be that person. He had always been an asshole to everyone he met, ever since he was little. Afraid of losing people who treated him well.

Four looked at his friend for a while, not really knowing why he felt so special to be the one receiving this information. Maybe it was because the boy didn't seem to be a person who was bluntly nice and trusting to everyone he had ever met. Maybe it came from Fours inner desire to get to know the man- or boy, as it was now confirmed- better than anyone else.

"I'm twenty-three by now."

As the blonde eyed his friend and driver, he could swear that he saw those amber eyes light up a little. And it felt right. It felt right to tell him.

"You owe me a childhood story."

He then exclaimed and chuckled as he turned away, looking out the window.

"Ah right, nearly forgot about that. Uhm I have been driving since I was little. My grandpa taught me as I was ten and signed me up for child races. I quickly developed good driving skills and found joy in doing what I was doing. Especially since I could earn some money at a young age. Oh, look at that. A supermarket!"

It ended as quickly as it began and Four knew he had no chance to ask for more information. It was more than he expected to get anyways, although he wished it would have been more than that. But Eight was pulling the car over to park and the blonde unbuckled his seatbelt before getting out as soon as the car had stopped. The raven haired quickly followed and got the money and the list from the backseat. Doing the groceries for seven adult people was weird to say the least. Both of the boys grabbed a shopping cart and walked into the store.

"Are we being responsible or not?"

Four asked curiously as Eight pulled his hood over his head.  The other just shrugged, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

"Do you want to be responsible?"

He asked before he started putting stuff in the cart that they would need. Four just laughed a little, pushing his hand in his pocket.

"I never liked being responsible."

"Good. I see we think alike."

Although the two of them had agreed on not being responsible, they managed to buy everything they needed. And stuff they didn't necessarily need. Like Energy drinks, Alcohol and cigarettes. And pudding of course.  The cashier was looking at them as if they were crazy. She jokingly even asked what they were buying this much food for.

"See, our parents think that the apocalypse is close. We are just trying to survive."

Eight answered and Four had to hold back a laugh while putting all of the stuff back in the two shopping carts. The cashier, who now looked even more disturbed than before, just silently continued doing her job. It's needless to say that she was visibly relieved as the two guys left her store.

As soon as they were outside, Four and Eight started laughing loudly.

"That was brilliant!"

Four exclaimed while wiping a tear of laughter out of his face. Eight shook his head as he unlocked his car.

"Have you seen the look on her face?"

He asked and they broke out in laughter again while putting all of the stuff they had in the back of the car.

"Dude, she legitimately looked like we were about to sacrifice her to Satan."

"Well maybe that would have stopped the apocalypse?"

Eight placed the last bag of food in the car and made sure that nothing would break. He didn't want to risk dirtying his car.

Four was returning the shopping carts to their place before taking his next to the raven haired in the car. He closed the door and looked at him.

"What are we going to do now?"

He asked, and his voice was a mixture of disappointment and sadness. He didn't want this little journey to end just there. Eight on the other hand didn't look remotely sad. More like he was up to something.

"Trust me."

He said as he started the car and drove off. A million questions popped up in Fours head but before he decided which to ask, Eight had already stopped the car again.

"You wait here."

The blonde couldn’t even start to complain because the raven haired had already left. They were standing in front of a huge electronic store and it took about half an hour until he saw his friend again. Eight was carrying a huge bag and he was smiling like a complete idiot.

And while Four desperately tried to figure out what the other was carrying, the bag was already on the backseat and Eight on the driver’s seat again.

"What did you buy?"

"A PlayStation."

Fours eyes grew bigger and bigger.

"You must be joking!"

But the other just grinned while looking at him. Without wasting time on thinking his actions through, the blonde pulled him into a hug while mumbling an endless row of thank you's. Eight hesitated shortly, but gave in and wrapped his arms around the taller and laid his head on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of comfort.

The moment ended quickly and as Four let go, he was still smiling. This time it were his eyes that were all lit up.

"Let's get home fast from now on so we can get started, hm?"

Eight grinned and his friend couldn't have agreed more.

It was somewhat evening as they arrived at home. One was already waiting for them in front of the headquarter. His arms were crossed, and his facial expression told them about everything.

"Hurry inside. bring the groceries with you."

Four and Eight exchanged looks but obeyed. One probably finished the planning for their next mission and wanted to make sure that everyone would be ready to listen. Including the two boys who'd rather be playing PlayStation than do just that.

Standing all together, Eight couldn’t help but notice the nasty look of Five, who was -according to the hate in her eyes- trying to kill him with her stare.

“Hey Four,”

Eight whispered, nudging his friend’s shoulder softly.

“Hm?”

Four hummed back and gave the other a questioning look.

“I think Five wants me dead.”

The moment the blonde turned around to face Five, he could only agree. Never had he seen the tender woman throw anyone a look like that. It was almost like he could feel the anger pierce his heart. Eight must feel horrible.

“Why does she look at you like that?”

“Four, Eight, you’ve had your play time for today. Shut up and pay attention!”

One’s voice was firm, almost angry which made both of them stop talking and pay attention to the important things. The pinboard, for example.

“Our next mission…”

The leader tapped on a name on the board.

“is James Thomson.”

[modestlyabsurd]

Survival Pt. 3 (Loki x Reader)

So far, a few things have been discovered through your Asgardian-Jötun defense training: for one, Loki is literally a soldier. Well actually, a warrior. He's a goddamn fighting machine. For some odd reason that has never crossed your mind. With the privilege of guns and bows and knives, exactly how skilled he is in hand-to-hand combat has never really come into play.

The second thing you've learned is just how unskilled you are in hand-to-hand combat.

It's embarrassing when you think about it. Of course, thinking about it is what got you knocked down with a blade to your throat probably eight out of ten times. Oh yeah, Loki wasn't fucking around. He showed you a few things. Without any weapons, you're shit.

You shudder to think what you'd be without him. Dead? No, probably worse. In a lot of ways.

He lay, after finally giving in to slumber a few hours ago, under a pink mildewy comforter on the mattress. He'd trained you all night and well into the morning. Gone was the bright springy sun from yesterday, and in its place was a grayish blue sky covered in fish-scale clouds. That's always a sign of a cold front, but damn, how could it get any colder? Surely some sort of solar collapse would take place if it did. Regardless, that meant problems.

The physical training had not been the best thing for Loki to do. He won't admit it because he's as stubborn as a jackass. But he's hungry.

Despite feeling the effects of not sleeping much after taking the Advil, you got up at daybreak when the light came in the kitchen window and reviewed your stocks. You already know it's bad but that doesn't matter; Loki's gonna eat today even if you have to force feed him.

Not that you could possibly restrain him long enough to do so. Not that you could restrain him at all ... God, you're sore from training with a famished person. It was nice, though.

Loki had already replaced the food into your backpacks, but he left the notepad open on the counter with them. At first you struggle to read his ridiculously pretty, loopy cursive handwriting. It's prettier than your grandma's.

18.2.2020

x1 tinned pineapple

x2 tinned tuna fish (cat food)

x1 handisnacks cheese and crackers (what?)

x1 smashed cereal bar

a bit of peanut butter.

We MUST find more.

~L

"Well no shit, Sherlock," you mumble.

The logical option is obvious. You dig into your backpack and find the cans of tuna, as Loki begins to stir in his sleep. Green eyes shine from across the room and long arms emerge from the blanket like butterfly wings. You can't help but grin a little.

He groans upon seeing you. "Good morning."

"Morning. Nice hair."

"Mm, yes. The morning after look suits you nicely as well," he murmurs. Damn your burning face.

"You wish."

Loki sits upright and slowly stands up, looking around the heart of this small house. As if it didn't look bad enough, it became sparring grounds last night. Everything was fine - until he decided to reverse the roles and let you practice a bit. Scattered glass from broken artwork, a dented kitchen cabinet, and now one of the floor boards is bowing up. Loki smiles, remembering that last take-down of yours and feeling something come loose beneath him.

You'd thought you broke one of his bones, and he let you think it. His muscles cramping from laughter and nearly getting punched in the face established the end of your first training session.

The floors creak even louder now as he approaches you by the kitchen sink. He places a hand on your shoulder with pride. "You did well last night."

You scoff, "Tell that to my ass that got kicked."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," he encouraged, his voice not fully awake. "I'm no easy teacher. But you learn quickly. You just need a bit of patience, grasshopper." He booped your nose.

"Yeah, whatever," you try not to smile. "Oh, by the way, this is not cat food. It's real tuna and you're gonna eat it."

Loki visibly gets on the defense. "Are you ordering me?"

You notice the jab but remain composed. "Yeah, Mr. Prince of Asgard, I am."

"And if I refuse?"

"Don't worry, I have a plan."

He shrugs. "I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are! Would you stop lying?!" the slam of the can rings through the walls and makes Loki jump.

"I don't need - "

"What did we agree on?" you demand.

He purses his lips solemnly. "No lies. No lies between us."

"And you've been lying about this for a minute."

"I haven't!" he hisses. "I don't know what you're so worried about but it's senseless! I can take care of myself, my body is not the same as yours - I'm not human!" The harshness of his eyes, so literally and figuratively transparent, along with the gauntness of his cheeks unnerved a distant part of your mind.

"I think you're the one that's worried."

His slightly agape mouth sighs and his eyes blink in disbelief. The harshness melts away. He looks anywhere but in your face. You're so bloody perceptive. Normally it's quite helpful, and it's one of the things he likes about you. But not when you read him like a cheap, paperback novel.

"Loki, I don't wanna be mad. I don't want us to yell and scream at each other. Just ... be a good cat and eat the fucking tuna." You slide the can over to him, "For me."

He picks up the can with pale, deft fingers, looking it over deep in his thoughts. The only other person who knew him so well was Frigga. His hidden feelings. The right things to say. The code to crack his walls. How, especially in such a tumultuous world, does someone else know the same things? A human nonetheless. Of course, he knows if he thought about it too much he'd eventually figure out the answer.

He's not sure he wants to know the answer. At least for now. Maybe even for eternity.

Having gathered the will to look you in the eye, he notices your face painted with dirt. Your hair, growing over your eyes and nearing your shoulders. The rip at your jacket collar. The healing cut on your lip.

"It seems you possess patience already. What you lack is the ability to harness it."

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. "Was this a test?!"

"It was," Loki chirps while opening the tuna can, "and you passed with excellence."

~

More training filled the rest of the morning easily. Amidst the physicality of sparring in life-and-death scenarios, Loki assessed your mentality as well. He sharpened your strengths, which grew the fastest in your fighting, and honed in on your weaknesses. Most, if not all, stemming from your emotions.

He went so far as to create illusions to test you. Only, you didn't realize they were illusions.

Whilst showing you one of the many ways to escape someone's grip without the help of a weapon, he mounted you with his knees pinning your shoulders. Your arms useless, your neck exposed to his silver dagger. The coldness of the blade was paralyzing.

"This feeling means you're not dead and you have time to act."

"Fuck, your breath reeks."

Loki nearly loses it all. "Focus, you sausage! You have to act fast!"

You try to move what little you can when suddenly the weight holding you down is thrown to the floor. A man has Loki down and connects with a few punches before you can launch to your feet. The dagger was dropped in the struggle so you grab it and drive it through the stranger's neck, only to lose balance and nearly fall. Your hand went through air.

The man was air?!

Someone seizes your mishap from behind and wraps their arms around your throat. You distantly hear Loki scream your name before the feeling of cold, hard metal presses against your skull.

"Whatever you've got, give it!"

Once your vision focuses you see Loki, his hands above his head, begging. "Let her go. Please."

"Now!"

"We don't have anything!"

"The backpacks! Get 'em! Empty everything out!"

Loki keeps looking at you, as if he's begging you to do something. Then you remember the dagger you're clutching in your hand.

You swing toward the stranger's head. Again, your arm goes through air, but at last you're free. Frantically you look around to find where the air people are coming in. Before you pass Loki, he haults you.

"Come on! We gotta stop them - "

"Easy, darling, easy," he coos, "it's alright. There's no one here."

"But they, they are! They were here ... "

"Shhh," he grips your shoulders down to your triceps, looking deeply into your eyes. Instantly calming you down. "It's alright, darling. It was all an illusion. We're safe."

"Wh... Illusion..?" you ask breathlessly. The house is quiet. The wind howls outside. Everything begins to play out in your head again; how your hand kept going through the robbers. They weren't real. In one hand, you want to melt into Loki's embrace due to the draining withdrawal from raw fear.

But in the other hand is the dagger.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you swing wildly, not aiming at anything but definitely aiming for something. Loki disarms you before you poke an eye out.

Many, many obscenities later and you're sitting on the mattress together discussing your strengths and weaknesses while cleaning your weapons.

"Your reflexes are a bit slow, but they're improving. Just when the fear is about to consume you beyond return, you recover, and you recover well. Your strikes are deadly. But that bit of time when your emotions dare to take over ... it could be enough time for anything to happen."

"Yeah, yeah. What's my grade?" you wipe the barrel of your rifle.

Loki laughs. "You've graduated from grasshopper to novice. Well done."

You smile at him.

Then, you hear it.

Far off, but approaching.

Your eyes dart toward the sound, then drift back to Loki staring back at you.

A herd.

Loki frowns, his brows furrowing above sorrowful green eyes.

"We have to move."

~

i aint fuckin around no more y'all. this is a motherfuckin Last of Us AU

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

[thundercuntvirgin]

One Call Away From A Bad Decision

Read on AO3

Steve is hosting a sleepover for the kids but it comes with a catch-Billy Hargrove has to stay the night. However, the boys find themselves bonding over red wine and childhood disappointment. It may even lead them into a new relationship.

Trigger Warning: homophobia, internalized homophobia, referenced child abuse, karen having a ‘crush’ on billy

*post season 2*

So it turned out Hargrove wasn’t that bad when he didn’t act like an entitled asshole. The party was having a New Years sleepover at Steve’s house, and the whole night was lined up.

Steve had rented a few VHS tapes, gotten a few pints of ice cream, and washed the guest room sheets so they weren’t musty. Then the doorbell rang a half hour ahead of schedule. Steve moved around the kitchen, silent save for the sound of plates and silverware as he set them out on the counter when he heard the doorbell. A grin split Steve’s face. He figured Dustin must be early which meant Mrs. Henderson would stay for a while to ‘keep Steve company’ until the other kids showed up. Dustin would beg her to leave, but Steve just lived for all of her questions, ‘How’s school?’ ‘Have you been eating breakfast?’ ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come over for dinner sometime this week?’

But opening the door wiped the grin off his face. Billy Hargrove leaned against the door frame casually watching Max dig through the trunk of the Camaro, piling her arms with a comforter, pillow, and her stuffed backpack.

“Umn, hey, Max.” Steve said as she bolted up to door, pushing past him to dump her stuff on the dining table. “You really didn’t have to bring all that,”

“You stay there,” she said to Billy, “you come with me,” she said as she took Steve’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. She looked around; making sure no one else was going to hear. “Mom said Billy had to come if I was gonna be able to stay over tonight, it’s a whole thing with you being and teen boy or something, but he has to stay.”

“Oh, well, why can’t he hang out with his friends?” Steve asked, trying to rationalize it all in his mind. Max huffed as if to say ‘I wish.’

“She’s gonna call and wanna talk to him, only problem is that I don’t know when so he can’t leave or else she’ll know we duped her. So are we cool?” she asked.

“Yeah, I guess?” Steve said slowly. Max nodded, walking back towards the front door where Billy still stood.

“Am I cleared for entry?” Billy asked, stubbing out a cigarette with the toe of his boot. He seemed tame compared to the last time Steve had seen him outside of school related necessity. At least Steve wouldn’t have broken nose this time, unlike the night at the Byers’ house.

“Yes, but you don’t get to antagonize anyone.” Max bit back.

“There’s an ashtray out back if you wanna smoke some more,” Steve said, not really to Billy, mostly just out into the room since he figured it would go ignored. Billy nodded when Steve pointed a finger through the kitchen.

Steve barely had time to think before another car was pulling up the driveway. Mrs. Wheeler’s station wagon pulled up behind the Camaro, Mike and Will pouring out of the backseat.

“Dustin and Lucas here yet?” Will called as they swung their backpacks over a shoulder.

“Not yet, just Max.” Steve said just as Mrs. Wheeler spoke up.

“Behave, Michael!” she said.

“You never tell Will to behave!” Mike bit back. Steve could see Will softly laughing beside Mike.

“Because I know he will, Mike.” Mrs. Wheeler said, edged with frustration. Mike huffed, turning away from his mother, dragging a grinning Will into the living room. “Oh, Steve, is,” Mrs. Wheeler looked around suspiciously, feigning some sort of innocence. “Is Billy here tonight?”

“Umn, yeah, Max’s mom wanted him to stay.” Steve said. It was so strange how Mrs. Wheeler acted about it. Like she had some high school crush.

*~*

Steve knew Dustin had shown up when the door opened without a knock.

“What the fuck is Hargrove doing here, man?” Dustin said, flinging his bag to the side and dropping to sit on the floor between Steve and Lucas. Will shot him a look as he shuffled cards on the opposite side of the coffee table. “This was supposed to be Party only, we even got El in on it!”

“Yeah, well you’re late, so you don’t get a vote,” Steve shot back playfully.

“Also, of course this is ‘party only’ none of us have any other friends.” Max bit back. Dustin moved to flip her off but Steve smacked his hand down.

“Hey, how about dinner!” Steve said, getting a round of ‘yes’ from around the coffee table. Lucas and Will raced to the kitchen, everyone else following.

“Figured in honor of El’s first sleepover, we should have breakfast for dinner.” Steve said, pulling a few boxes of eggos from the freezer. El’s eyes lit up at the sight of the yellow boxes. “I’ll leave these up to the professional,” he said handing the boxes to El, “And for Will to be in charge of eggs. Everyone else set the table and do as they say!”

The kitchen became a flurry of action, more than it had ever seen before, with Lucas whisking eggs from Will to fry , El showing Mike and Max the perfect way to cook an eggo, and Lucas and Dustin sword fighting with dull butter knives.

*~*

Just as the kids finished eating Steve realized he’d forgotten to offer a plate to Hargrove. Steve searched his mind to see if he could even remember seeing Hargrove eat, even at school. As far as Steve knew Hargrove spent his lunch period outside smoking.

“Okay, you guys start dishes, I’m gonna take a plate out back.” Steve said, Dustin rolling his eyes. Getting another clean plate from the cabinet, Steve loaded the last of the eggs and two leftover eggos onto it, grabbing a fork. He heard them bickering over who had to wash the silverware as he slid open the door to the back patio.

Of all the things Steve expected, what he saw wasn’t one of them. Hargrove had his leather jacket zipped all the way up, a worn looking flannel peeking out the bottom, laid out sleeping on a lounge chair. He looked like he had been scrunched up but fell asleep, spread out like a napping child.

Steve realized he didn’t know how to wake Hargrove without risking death. Steve shifted the plate and fork to his other hand to knock on the side of the house. Hargrove sat up suddenly, head whipping around to stare at Steve. His eyes were big and round, the surprise making him seem less scary, more human.

“I’ve got dinner for you, if you want.” Steve felt a tiny bit more confidant from how off guard Hargrove seemed. He held out the plate and fork for the other boy to grab. Hargrove scrambled out of the chair, walking over to Steve without any swagger, his eyes still a little sleepy looking.

“Thanks,” he said, quietly accepting the plate.

“You can leave it in the sink when you’re done.” Steve said, turning to go back into the house.

*~*

The girls were upstairs getting into bed, the boys fighting over who got to sleep on which part of the couches. Steve wasn’t going to get involved in their scuffle until Lucas smacked Dustin with a pillow and an all-out war was about to start.

Steve could hear the girls laughing from their perch on the stair as he grabbed the pillows and declaring Will king over who got to sleep where. While they bribed Will to let them have a better spot, Steve wandered into the kitchen to wipe the counters down and finish any dishes. The only problem was there was no last plate in the sink to wash. Hargrove hadn’t fucking brought his plate in. If Steve thought about it the plate was probably at the bottom of the pool.

He rolled his eyes, turning to go back outside. When Steve barged outside Hargrove’s head whipped around. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his jacket, knees pulled up towards to chest, cigarette caught between his lips, the cherry red end nearly about to fall off. He was still perched on the lounge chair.

“Where’s the plate?” Steve asked sharply. “I need to wash it.” he added when Hargrove’s shoulders went rigid.

“I already washed your fucking plate and fork so you can stop shoving lemon slices up your ass or whatever you do that makes you a bitch.” Hargrove bit back, dragging his right hand out of his jacket to knock the ash off his cigarette. He ended up stubbing it out in the ashtray on the ground next to the chair.

Steve didn’t bother replying. He felt stupid even though there was no reason to think Hargrove would’ve washed the plate. He turned back inside, sliding the door closed behind him and headed for his dad’s office. The living room had gotten quiet, so Steve was done with the kids for the night.

His Dad always had hard, expensive liquor in his office, but his Mom made sure there was nice wine for guests. Steve grabbed a bottle of wine. It didn’t matter which one cause his Mom and Dad didn’t matter, not tonight.

Walking back through the kitchen, switching lights off as he went, Steve grabbed two mugs and a nutcracker to open the bottle with. On second thought, he went to the living room, quietly grabbing two fluffy blankets before heading outside.

Hargrove side eyes him suspiciously as he walks around him to sit in the lounge chair to the left. Steve passed over a blanket, half expecting it to be thrown in his face. Hargrove just wrapped it around his shoulders, hunching in on himself to cover his knees.

“I don’t know why anyone chooses to live in Mr. Snow Miser’s asshole,” Hargrove said moodily.

“If I give you wine will you shut up about how shitty Hawkins is?” Steve halfheartedly snapped back, pulling the cork out with the nutcracker.

“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe its misery,” Hargrove retorted reaching for a mug. He held it as Steve filled it halfway with dark red wine.

Steve filled his own, gently tapping it against Hargrove’s as a shitty toast. They both sat back watching the steam rise off the pool. They sat and drank in silence until Billy sat up, reaching for the bottle.

“You gonna have any more?” he asked, raising the bottle.

“Yeah, just top me off.” Steve said, holding up his mug as Hargrove more in. He was feeling warm, mind buzzing already with strong wine.

Hargrove regarded the three quarters empty bottle for a minute before softly saying “fuck it” and taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Do you ever just wish you could scream?” Hargrove said suddenly. “And it didn’t matter who heard you or saw you. You just got to scream.”

“You’re crazy, Hargrove, but yeah.” Steve said, laughing a little at the absurdity of it.

“Don’t call me Hargrove. If we drink we’re using first names,” he retorted, pulling from the bottle again.

“Yeah, sure man,” Steve brushed off.

“Steve,” Billy said. Steve’s head rolled over to glare at Hargrove. “If you can admit that you wanna scream, I think you can manage to say my name. I’ll even accept legal first names if that butters your fancy disposition,”

“Legal? What the fuck is the difference, man?” Billy side eyed him for a second before sitting up properly.

“What do you think my name is?” he asked.

“Billy, duh, I’m not stupid.” Steve bitched back, a little sleepy from the wine. Billy started laughing a little, then a lot, until he fell over onto Steve’s outstretched legs. Steve just pushed his face away as if it was no big deal to be hanging out with Billy Hargrove.

“My first name is William you asshole!” Billy cackled, taking another swig. Steve’s eyes got wide and he leaned forwards.

“No! You’re fucking with me! That’s not how that works, if your name is William then people would call you Will, that’s how it works!” Steve said, voice pitching upwards.

“William turns into Billy, how have you never heard that!” Billy laughed out, still lying on Steve’s legs.

“I’ gonna call you Billiam!” Steve cackled. Billy’s eyes went wide.

“No you do not! Fuck you!” Billy gasped. He smacked Steve’s thigh, falling off his lounge chair.

“So Billiam, what brings you here tonight?” Steve asked in a fake posh voice.

“Insurmountable toil and grief,” Billy said dramatically. “And you good sir?”

Steve sobered a bit, falling back on his chair. “All the shit I can’t talk about. The shit that makes me wanna scream.” he said softly. Billy turned his head to look at Steve, cheek resting on Steve knee.

“I fucking hate that shit.” Billy said sadly, eyes staring at someplace far away.

“Well since I can’t talk about my shit,” Steve started, downing the last of his mug. “You wanna talk about yours?”

“Sure, I’m feeling lucky” Billy climbed back up in his lounge chair. “My dad has to know every fucking thing I do and nothing is ever good enough for him. Perfect isn’t perfect enough.” He punctuation by taking another swig of wine.

“Fuck,” Steve breathed out, grabbing the bottle from Billy and drinking.

“Welcome to my shitshow of a life, Steve Harrington.” Billy said, flipping off the sky. “He’d lose his shit if he knew I was hanging out with you,”

Steve’s eyebrows pinched together. He glanced at Billy. “Why the hell would he go off about me?”

Everything was silent for a while, the night sounds seeming increasingly loud.

“Because I have the habit of making bad decisions with pretty boys,” Billy whispered.

“I can’t imagine what counts as a ‘bad decision’ for you,” Steve giggled out. He could feel Billy’s eyes boring into him. He turned his head, their eyes meeting, Billy looking stricken.

“Why don’t you tell me if this is a bad decision,” Billy whispered, moving closer to Steve, hand braced next to Steve’s hip. Steve felt slow and sleepy but Billy’s face moving in closer to his was a crystal clear image.

Steve was actually surprised by how soft Billy’s lips were. And how gently he kissed. And how… how delicately he kissed. Billy pulled back first, eyes wide and vulnerable. Immediately his face changed. His eyes shined in a way Steve had never seen before.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Billy whispered frantically. He pulled back, sitting in his chair again, chest heaving. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Steve wasn’t sure why but it scared him how honest and raw Billy seemed. Steve watched as Billy picked the wine bottle up and drained what was left, falling back when he finished.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Steve, I fucked up. I’m so sorry.” he said, rubbing his eyes like he could bring himself to look as Steve.

“Why are you sorry?” Steve asked quietly, not daring to move.

“I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done that.” Billy whispered back. His voice sounded clogged and thick. Like he could barely force the words out.

“What if I didn’t hate it?” Steve asked softly. “What if I maybe wanted to do it again?”

“Your drunk, and not thinking right.” Billy said, voice still wavering.

“I’m tipsy, not stupid. But I would be stupid to lie and say I hated it, to say that I hate you.” Steve sat up to really look at Billy. His eyes were watery and tiny tears were stuck in his lashes. He was biting his lip so hard it was turning white, hands shaking as he wiped at his face.

“No,” Billy whispered. “No, you’re going to regret everything you’re saying in the morning.” it was strange, but Steve couldn’t stand seeing Billy so frantic. He reached out, taking one of Billy’s hands, and leaned forwards. Pressing his lips to Billy’s.

He felt Billy’s breathe stutter, but despite it all he leaned into Steve. All of a sudden Billy surged forwards pushing one hand deep into Steve’s hair and the other clutching at Steve’s shirt. They drug each other closer, lips moving together. Somewhere in the back of his mind Steve knew this was strange—was beyond strange to be making out with the guy who beat your face in. But oddly enough Steve craved it. And it seemed like Billy did too.

They weren’t even doing much, just kissing like middle schooler in a movie theater. Billy’s hand gently tracing through Steve’s hair. The kiss was soft like before, but persistent like they both needed it.

Steve heard the echo of the phone ringing in the kitchen. Billy pulled back. He scrambled off the chair, franticly slid open the door, running inside to answer. Steve followed. He slid the door closed as Billy answered the phone.

“Susan?” Billy asked softly. The person on the phone said something that made Billy flinch a tiny bit. “Yes sir, Max and the other girl are upstairs asleep, all the boys are in the living room.” a long pause filled with Billy staring at the floor, eyes shining again. “Yes sir.” he says again.

The commotion must have woken Dustin up because he sleepily walks into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, glancing between Steve and Billy. Steve just makes a motion for Dustin to go back to bed.

“Of course, no I’m not-I wouldn’t lie-” Billy is cut off by the person on the phone again. Dustin shrugs and turns back towards the living room. “I-yeah, yes sir.”

Billy seems to stare at the floor for a long time after the call is finished. He’s still holding the phone to his ear, the dial tone buzzing loud enough for Steve to hear. Billy’s hands shake as he puts the phone back on the wall, wiping his face. That’s when Steve sees how red his eyes are, tears threatening to leak out.

“Was that you’re dad?” Steve asks, stepping closer.

“Can we just go back outside?” Billy whispers.

“Wanna go to the den? It’ll be warm,” Steve says. Billy softly nods, wiping his face again. Steve takes his hand gently and leads him through dining room and down the hall to the den.

They fall onto the overstuffed couch. Steve’s mother hated the couch but couldn’t be bothered to get rid of it. They sat next to each other just holding hands.

“Are you going to be okay when you and Max go home?” Steve asks quietly.

“It’ll be fine,” is all Billy says. Steve really wants hug him like he would Nancy, but it doesn’t feel like Billy wants that.

“What do you want to do?” Steve asks, half expecting Billy to say he wants to drink or smoke.

“I wanna sit here and not be alone,” he says so quietly Steve thinks he miss heard him. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

Steve grips his hand harder, Billy glancing up to look at Steve.

“I’m almost always alone,” he says like it’s a secret. “There’s always people, but I’m still alone. People want me but they don’t want me, they want this person that they’ve made in their mind.” Steve felt a strange type of comradery bloom in his chest at Billy’s statement

“I kinda get that.” Steve says quietly. They meet eyes. Billy grips his hand back just as hard, intertwining their fingers. Billy glanced away, swallowing thickly, adam’s apple bobbing. He seemed to steady himself before speaking.

“I promise not to be an ass to you, no matter where we are.” he said so softly that Steve thought he imagined it. “I haven’t been fair to you. I was,” he stopped himself to think. “I am angry and mean and I hurt people.”

“I used to be an asshole. It just takes the right incentive sometimes, like people you care about. And I think you care more than you’d like to admit.” Steve said gently. He gently pushed Billy over so he was laying down on the couch. Billy laughed a little. “Now get some sleep, Billiam.”

“Nooo!” Billy whined at the shitty nickname. Steve just fell back onto the arm of the couch, snickering softly.

[littledraga]

Robots and a Roomba

Because thanks to the Cav SPG really needs their own little Roomba.

Six stepped into the old manor with a box under his arm. He would grin, but well, keyhole masks aren’t all that good for that. His mom told him that he needed to help more around the house and suggested a vacuum. In a manor of countless rooms and spaces, before doing science. But he wasn’t going to disobey Annie either.

So! He had the most wonderful idea! And had gone out to buy a Roomba for the place. Now, no one had to worry about vacuuming. Patting the box he giggled. He was a very smart man indeed!

Unboxing the Roomba and setting it up, he sent his little machine away with a pat. “Thank you, Roomba!” he giggled. “Work hard!” And with that, he was off to science!

Rabbit was polishing her crown of awesome when she heard a distressed beeping. But not one that she knew.

Polish and crown in hand, she went off to investigate. Down the hall, the beeping got louder until she found a robot disk, stuck under the hall table.

“H-h-hey, there! Whatcha-cha doin’ under der?” Pulling out the machine, she looked it over. “Oh! You’re ne-new, ain'tcha! I’m Rabbit!”

When they didn’t respond, she frowned a moment. But she quickly beamed. “Aw! Ya must be shy. It’s okay, we’re all really nice, promise!” Still nothing. Maybe they just needed to feel more welcome.

“Come on! Let’s go have some fun to-together. Do-do you like tea parties?” She asked while she carried the Roomba off for a play date.

Turns out Roombas aren’t big fans of tea, even if she let them wear her crown of awesome. But they loved cookies! Or at least the crumbs that fell out of Rabbit’s faceplate from chewing.

“See? I knew ya just needed to warm up to me” She chirped and brushed out her dress. “Come on, we can have some more fun.”

Standing up quickly, she bumped the table and sent the cutlery clattering to the floor, and covering her new friend.

The Roomba kicked on again and chased after Rabbit as crumbs tumbled from her dress. A knife and fork balancing on its top.

“H-hey, careful,” she warned, and jumped out of the way, only for them to turn around again. Watching them, she grinned widely. “Well, if ya wa-wanna play like that.”

Plucking up her new friend, she went off to find some better knives and tape.

Sometime later, Spine was interrupted by a soft whirring noise and looked up from his guitar. “Hm? I thought I heard,” he was cut off when he heard a small clang of metal on metal.

Looking down, he saw a Roomba with a couple of knives taped to its top. Worse, they had cut his pants. “Hey, now! There’s no reason to go around cutting up people’s clothing,” he chided as the Roomba seemed to flee.

Only to start beeping as it hit the wall, cutting up the wallpaper.

The Spine sighed and knelt down to pick up the Roomba, careful not to have it cut any more of his clothes. Sure, the knives wouldn’t hurt him, but why ruin perfectly good clothes? It’s not like he had an endless supply of black shirts.

“Don’t worry, buckaroo. I’ll get you cleaned up and back on your way.” Carefully, peeling off the tape, he put the knives on the side table. “That’s better! Back at it, you go,” he praised and put the Roomba back down.

It turned once, twice, and then into his leg again, beeping that it hit something.

Grinning, he bent down to pat the machine again. “Hey, it’s alright if you want to take a little break. The manor is pretty big after all.” Sitting back down, he picked up his guitar again to practice. Though, he found himself distracted while the Roomba circled his chair. He hadn’t made any messes, not lately anyway.

“Do you like music by chance?” He asked and strummed a few notes. When the Roomba stopped in front of him, he grinned. “How about that!” He played a few songs for his new friend before he dug out an old cowboy doll he had stored away. Borrowing the hat, he placed it on the Roomba and adjusted it until it was just right.

“There ya are! Looks good on ya cowboy,” he laughed as the Roomba finally left the room.

Red fire truck in hand, Zer0 was happily playing on the floor when a new friend came to visit. Looking up, he grinned. “Hi! I’m Zer0. Are you new?”

Instead of answering, the Roomba went around the edges of the room.

Which made Zer0 laugh. “Come on! Do you wanna play with my red fire truck, with me? You can be the cowboy firefighter!” He followed the Roomba around the room with the truck. “Where’s the fire cowboy?”

After pulling him out from under his bed, Zer0 grinned. “You’re havin’ a hard time seein’ where you’re goin’, cowboy firefighter! I can fix that.”

Digging through a couple drawers, he found a marker and held it up. “Perfect! You can’t see where you’re goin’ ‘cuz you ain’t got no eyes!” Sitting down he carefully drew two mismatched eyes for the Roomba, and the biggest smile he could fit.

“Now, you can see the fire! Where should we go now?” With a chirp, the Roomba spun around again. Zer0 mimicked his new friend spinning in circles.

Out of the room, they went, until the Roomba ducked under a table that Zer0 couldn’t fit under. “Hey! You can’t put out the fire without the fire truck!”

Getting up, Zer0 scurried off to meet the Roomba on the other side. “Cowboy firefighter?” He wandered the halls looking for his new friend.

GG was sat on the end of the hall, pouting. “Someone pick me up! I’m too cute to walk down the halls!” She whined, waiting for someone to find her. The poor Roomba did first.

Seeing the Roomba roll down the hall she lit up. “Oh! Perfect!” Giggling she knocked off the hat and crawled on top of it.

Trying to keep her balance was hard, she fell on her face. “Hey! What was that for!?” She whined, sitting up to rub her nose.

Trying again, she wiggled and flailed until she found out how to sit and stay upright. “Yes! A mobile throne! Just need some cushions. Come, throne! To the living room!” She was pretty sure they were going the wrong way, but as long as they got there!

The Spine and Rabbit were in the kitchen, debating the new song set when GG rode by.

“Cowboy?” The Spine tilted his head before he popped his head out to see.

Rabbit wrinkled her nose. “No! That was Mister Stabby! I was playin’ with him earlier.” She rushed out to chase after GG. “What’d you do with his knives, GG?” She demanded.

“Knives? That was you? Rabbit, are you insane? You could have hurt someone, never mind cutting up my pants!” He scolded, only getting more angry when she waved it off.

“It was his idea! He was zoo-zoomin’ around with a knife on his head. I just helped.”

“Hey, guys! Have you seen Cowboy Firefighter? We were playing firefighter with my red fire truck and he got lost.” He held it up a little as he talked.

Narrowing his eyes, The Spine huffed and grabbed at the toy. “You mean you were playing with my red fire truck,” he corrected. “You have your own fire truck Zer0, leave mine alone.”

“He pr-pro-probably ran away because you were callin’ him the wrong name. He’s Mister Stabby!” Chirped Rabbit.

The three of them couldn’t finish a sentence before another was trying to talk over them.

Hearing the noise, Six peeked his head around the corner to see GG riding on his new Roomba. Stepping out, he put his foot out to stop it and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you mind, Petes? I need to get to the living room to get pillows for my mobile throne.”

Six tilted his head. “Excuse me? That’s a Roomba. It cleans the floors.” Before GG could whine he jabbed a thumb to the side. “Off.”

While she scampered off, complaining that he was being mean he looked down the hall to the three squabbling bots. He could see the marker face. He had only bought it a few hours ago! “Excuse me.” He tried, picking up the machine and powering it off.

When they ignored him he tapped his foot and huffed. “Excuse me!” He tried again, not quite yelling. That worked and they looked at him, each crying out that he turned off, Mister Stabby, Cowboy, Cowboy Firefighter. Tilting his head again he sighed.

“It’s a Roomba, little machine vacuum. It runs around and cleans the floors. It is not a toy, and it’s not sentient. The Roomba is not for playing, leave it alone.”

The three bots hung their heads and agreed.

How could three bots, each over a hundred years old, make him feel guilty? Sighing, he waved a hand. “It’s got a lot of work to do, please let it work.” Still, with the Roomba tucked under his arm, he walked off to put it on its charger. They were a handful sometimes.

A few days later, Six came up for a coffee refill, wondering why he hadn’t put one in all the labs yet. Stirring in more creamer than coffee he heard something metallic rattling along. He stopped and made sure he hadn’t picked up loose screws and dropped them in his glass again.

Nope, something was still rattling. Walking out to the hall he followed the sound. A few turns later he found it. The Roomba was scooting down the hall with three ice creams on top. There were a few bills tucked under them.

“GUYS!”

[saltyhyunjae]

CHAPTER THREE: YOU KNOCK ME OUT COLD AND DISAPPEAR

genre/warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers (?), kidnapping, criminal!tbz, mentions of guns & knives, small mention of suicide

word count: 2.2k

summary: It’s time for y/n to carry out her escape plan.

part two

“Here’s the diary you asked for.” Kevin gives you a small notebook with a pen. “Thank you.” Tomorrow is gonna be the day. The day you finally escape. When you enter your room, you sit on your bed and write down the info you have gathered all week.

Everyone goes to their room around 2 in the morning. Eric gets his midnight snack at 2:30, and Sunwoo goes to the toilet around 3. By the time they’re all asleep it’s 3:30. Instead of leaving at 3:30 you decide that it’s better to stay put till 4. You also checked the door last night. It doesn’t have any censors and an easy lock. This should be an easy mission.

“Knock knock.” Younghoon walks into your room. You quickly close your diary and put it on your nightstand.

“That’s not how you knock.”

He laughs and lies on your bed. “I’m so bored, what should we do?” “We?” You turn around to face him and he nods. You look outside. It’s been raining all week but the sun has been shining all morning. “Why don’t we sit in the garden?” You suggest. Ever since you came back from the grocery store you’ve only been inside. You needed some fresh air.

After a couple minutes you were outside with Younghoon, sitting on a picnic blanket, eating some fruit and enjoying the nice weather.

“Ah, the weather is great today.” Younghoon smiles, laying down on the blanket and you do the same. You smile at the warm feeling from the sun, finally relaxing.

Even though your eyes are closed, you can suddenly feel a shadow above you, blocking the sun. “What the-, move!” You hear Younghoon complain and you open your eyes to see Hyunjae, standing between you too. If you’re completely honest you’ve been avoiding him ever since what happened that one night. The more you hangout with him, the weirder you start to feel.

“What are you guys doing?” “What does it look like? We’re enjoying the sun.” Younghoon puts his sunglasses back on and lays down again. You’re about to close your eyes again but Hyunjae finds a way to lie between you two. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Younghoon groans. “I wanna enjoy the sun too.” “Go do that somewhere else.” “No.” You scootch over a bit and decide to just ignore him.

»»————-　➴　————-««

After you’re done with cleaning the living room and folding the laundry, Jacob asks you to have another guitar session, to which you excitedly agree. You loved his voice and you were hoping he could tell you a bit more about the boys.

He starts off by singing Paris In The Rain by Lauv. you absolutely love his voice and you automatically start smiling the second you hear him sing. You once again take your time to look at him. He has a soft smile as he sings, his hair falling just right above his eyes that are following the chords of the guitar and his head slowly nodding with the melodies.

When he finishes the song, you applaud him. “Wow Jacob, you’re so good at singing. Do you have some self-written songs?” He nods “I do, do you want to hear one?” You nod excitedly. “This one is called happy-” Jacob gets interrupted by Hyunjae storming into your room. Are you actually kidding me?

“Jacob, Sangyeon needs you to help him.” Jacob nods, stands up and thanks you for your time before leaving to help Sangyeon. You were hoping Hyunjae would leave with Jacob but instead he sits next to you on the bed, very close, leaving no personal space.

You're about to scootch away from him. But he places his hand on your thigh to stop you. Usually if a guy did this you would slap his hand away, but you can’t bring yourself to do that right now. “What’s with the distance? You’ve been avoiding me all week. Did you think I wouldn't notice?” He asks in a low voice. Your brain starts to fog up. “I-” You try to find words to say but nothing comes out. His face gets closer, never breaking eye contact with you.

“What? Do I make you nervous?” He smirks. You feel a bubble of annoyance come up. As you're about to reply with ‘no’, Eric storms in. “Y/n! ah Hyunjae, there you are!” “What do you want?” Hyunjae asks, clearly annoyed at Eric interrupting the two of you.

“Y/n, come play games with me. Hyunjae, you can come too if you want.” Hyunjae huffs and rolls his eyes. “Y/n, please.” Eric whines, now pulling your arm, trying to get you off the bed. “Okay okay.” You give in, scared to be alone with Hyunjae in one room. You would be lying if you say that your heart doesn't flutter every time you see him.

After an hour and a half of playing mario kart with Eric and Hyunjae, and you despite your sneaky protests, sitting in between them, and you beating both of them more than seven times, it’s finally time for dinner. And guess who you're sitting next to. Hyunjae.

“So guys, our break is ending. Our next group mission starts next week, so make sure you prepare for it well. I’ll tell you guys the details later.” Sangyeon announces and the boys cheer. “Finally I was so bored.” Changmin drops on his chair. “You're always bored, maybe you're just boring.” Eric laughs, making fun of him, but quickly stopping as Changmin points a knife at him.

After dinner Sangyeon and Chanhee offer to help clean up and Kevin helps you with the dishes. By the time you're done it’s late, so you decide to go to bed first. Since your escape is tomorrow, you need as much rest as you can.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Today you woke up a little later than normally so you won't be tired tonight. You really need your energy to run as fast as possible. After you guys are done with eating breakfast you watch a drama with Juyeon, Haknyeon and Eric, do laundry and clean the house and by the time you're done it's time to prepare for dinner which Younghoon and Sunwoo helps you with.

After dinner you clean up with Eric and then go to your room to prepare your outfits. You grab a sweater from your closet and a pair of leggings that would be comfortable and warm, since it would be cold at night.

While you put them under your bed with your sneakers, someone knocks on your door. Finally someone who can knock, you think. “Come in.” Jacob comes in smiling at you. “Hi, am I disturbing you?” You shake your head sitting on your bed and he does the same.

“Well I just wanna tell you I'm very happy to have you here, you’ve been helping us a lot even though I know you don’t wanna be here and I really appreciate you. I would’ve given you a present, but I don't think you would appreciate stolen stuff.” He looks down at his knees, blushing a bit, cute.

You started to feel a pang of guilt in your heart, Jacob has been an angel to you ever since you first spoke to him but you couldn’t take it any longer, you wanted to leave. You needed to leave. Trying to enjoy the time you had left with him you guys spent hours talking about Canada, his childhood, why he doesn’t swear and about how much he loves basketball. You could watch him talk for hours. You nod to everything he says, trying to ignore the butterflies you feel when you two make eye contact.

»»————-　➴　————-««

You look up at the clock in your room. 04:00. You get up from your bed and make your way to your bedroom door. You slowly open your door and walk to the stairs, quietly going down the steps and taking breaks every few steps. You mentally sigh when u make it downstairs u slowly make your way to the front door in the dark careful not to make a noise.

When you walk past the kitchen you decide to take a knife with you, just in case. When you get to the door you slowly open the door, cringing at the little squeak sound it makes in the process.

Once the door is wide enough for you to fit in, you step outside, leaving the door open, since the sound of the door closing might wake them up. You take a few quick steps till you reach further from the house.

Once you’re reaching the forest you hear the door slam open. Shit! You turn around before you start running. Sangyeon’s standing at the door. Clearly very angry. “Y/N!” You hear him scream as you start running fasters. You hear the others making a fuss as you take a turn right into the forest.

“God, she’s fast.” Kevin breathes out, taking a break from running. “Yeah, just let her go, I'm too tired.” Chanhee squats down, Younghoon doing the same. “No! she’ll report us to the police and then it’s over for us, we need to find her.” Sangyeon says before making his way to the forest, the others following behind him.

You notice the forest is on top of a hill, which makes you run down faster. You run way faster than expected, almost twisting your ankle when taking a turn left. The footsteps of the boys started to fade away but you didn’t slow down, adrenaline still rushing through your body.

“Y/N!” Sangyeon screams looking around, he stops running and waits for the others to catch up, when they do, he shares his plan. “Okay, we're splitting up in the units we use for our missions, call me when you find her.” And they all split up in their units, Sangyeon’s unit going left.

“How could she do this?” Eric sighs. “I mean we kidnapped her, this was bound to happen.” Hyunjae says. He hates to admit but he’s worried sick and hopes you're not hurt. He shrugs it off thinking it's just a normal reaction and that he’s not actually catching feelings for you.

After a while your running slows down and you start to get tired. You stumble across a huge fallen down tree and you decide to hide behind it. Cliche but you're so tired, you can barely feel your legs. Once you sit down, you bend a bit making sure your head isn’t visible. You sigh. Why did you have to be the one to get kidnapped, why did they have to rob the store you work at. You stop the tears you feel from flowing so it won’t block your sight.

“How fast is she, God.” You hear Changmin’s voice from a little distance. Shit. You're freaking out but remain in your position. You pray that they won’t see you, cause they’ll definitely kill you when they do. The voices are starting to fade and you take the opportunity to start running again, regaining the adrenaline you had earlier.

But you should’ve waited. Juyeon spots you. “There!” You hear him yell and they start running after you. You panic, taking a run right, into the darker part of the forest. You jump over another fallen tree and make your way further down. Once you lose them you slow down a bit. You can barely see anything, so you start walking.

Suddenly you feel two hands grab you. You startle and stab the person with the knife you're holding. “Ow!” Jacob. You panic as you start running again, feeling slightly bad that he was the one you stabbed. You hope he’s okay as you start running faster.

After a while you stumble over something that makes you fall down, hurting your knee and elbows. “Fuck.” You whisper, quickly getting up. Soon after you run into a tree hurting your chest and cheek. You were getting so tired, you couldn’t even focus on where you were running to. You prayed this all was just a bad dream and you would wake up in your own room again, remaining your normal life.

“Jacob what happened!” Sangyeon gives him a worried look. The boys gather around Jacob, who’s holding his arm. “She stabbed me.” He understands why you did it but it still hurts him. “God, she has a knife.” Sunwoo panics. “Younghoon and Chanhee, bring Jacob to the house and take care of his wound. The rest of us will keep on searching.” The boys nod at his order and split up again.

An hour passes and the boys still haven’t found you. Hyunjae starts to worry even more. They were all wearing a jacket, but you didn't. It was so cold around this time of the day and it would be so easy to freeze up. “Shouldn’t we just give up. The sun will start rising soon, she’ll probably show up again.” He suggests, but Sangyeon ignores him. He sighs. As much as he wants you to be free, he doesn’t want to let you go.

You’re just roaming around at this point. You have no idea how much time has passed, or if the boys have given up already. You think it might be easier to just stab yourself with a knife and just die. But you didn’t want to give up. You wanted your old life back. You finally see the end of the forest a couple meters away from you and run towards it. But something grabs you and spins you around. You look up and your eyes widen. Hyunjae.

»»————-　➴　————-««

taglist

@beauchamp-fraser @n-xrmy @givememunjang

[awkward-radar-tech]

Toby on the Run

Summary: It was a calm afternoon, and you decided to relax on your porch. Then a stranger appeared needing help. Against better judgement, you helped him. Then he helped you.

A/N: Idea from a lovely anon! This contains a lot of sexual tension, and the breaking of said tension. Reader is fully aware that she is a dumbass for letting a stranger into her house. This is 3432 words of complete stupidness that needed to be written. Idk how to write sex scenes, just know I did my best.

🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

You were relaxing on your front porch when a man ran by then turned around and stood on your lawn facing you. He was tall and covered in dirt, and you immediately grabbed the metal baseball bat your neighbor’s son leaves at your house for when you babysit. 

You called out, “Can I help you?”

He looked behind him and looked back at you, “I’m being chased, can I hide out here?”

You picked up your bat so he could see it, “No.”

You heard men’s voices yelling and he ran to hide behind your car. You quickly went inside, not wanting to be outside when whoever was after this guy came by. As you peaked through your blinds you saw some men in all black, a lot bigger than the other man, look around then continue down the street. 

Before long he was on your porch, “Hey, lady. I know I look really sketchy, but I promise I’m not. Google me. I’m Toby Grisoni. I’ll pay you. I was filming some stupid commercial and these guys decided that they didn’t like where I chose to film. I also may have fucked their girl and sister. But that doesn’t matter. Anyways, please? I’ll stay five feet away from you and in your sight at all times.”

You thought for a moment then pulled out your phone, “I’ll think about it. Until then you can hide on the porch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You looked him up to see how much money he could actually offer you, you could use some extra money. And if he got too close you could get out your aggressions by beating him with the bat. The fact that he was hot didn’t hurt. You text your friend to come check on you in an hour if you didn’t check in since you were about to be the biggest dumbass in the universe. They asked why and you explained that a decently rich advertiser, who was also hot, offered to pay you to help him hide from some men he pissed off. They agreed with your conclusion of being the biggest dumbass, and told you they wouldn’t let him in, but they’d start planning your funeral. 

You peaked out your window again to find him laying on your porch, “Do you promise to pay me at least $500 and stay away from me and in my sight?”

He launched up and scrambled to his feet, “Yeah. Yes. I’ll give you $5,000 just please let me in. I don’t want to die today.”

You took a deep breath, grabbed the bat, then unlocked and opened your door, “Okay. But you better fucking behave.”

He quickly walked in, “Ooo, feisty.” 

You hit him in the arm with the bat, “No talking.”

He groaned and rubbed his arm. He nodded and moved far enough away from you as promised.

“You can sit on the couch. Do you want a glass of water? To go to the bathroom to clean up, you’re kinda covered in dirt… uhh you can talk if I talk to you.”

He just looked at you for a moment, “You’re hot.” He then stepped back, “Don’t hit me. I’m sorry I said that. I’m not lying, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud. But I’d like to wash my face and hands, and a glass of water.”

You glared at him, “The bathroom is through that door. Towels are under the sink.”

He nodded and walked into the bathroom and shut the door. You got two cups of water then sat on the couch and watched the door. He came out after a couple of minutes and you pointed at your arm chair. He sat and you offered him a cup, then turned on the tv to watch your favorite show.

After a few minutes you felt weird not talking, “So, can you tell me what you were filming a commercial for? Or why you thought it was a good idea to fuck that dude’s girl. They were like twice your size. You’re a bigger dumbass than me.”

He gave you a questioning look, “I was filming something for some stupid paper towels. And she didn’t tell me she was dating anybody at the bar, she just came on to me and asked if I wanted to go home with her. So of course I said yes. Then at sunrise, as I was dressing to leave, these two guys come into her apartment and start yelling at me because I slept with the one guy’s fiancee. She just smirked at me from the bed and I was off running. I was able to hide a few times, but they always found me, that is how I got here.”

You just nodded and continued watching your show. You didn’t speak again until you heard his stomach growl, loud.

“Do you want some food? I can cook up a few burgers if you’d like.”

His voice held a pleading that didn’t fit him, “Please.”

“Okay, come sit with me in the kitchen.”

You text your friend that you haven't died and this guy is a bigger idiot than you. 

"Toby, is there anything you're allergic to that I should know of before I start cooking?"

He had moved to sit at the island, "Uhhh. No. I'll eat anything."

You nodded and pulled out the pan and a few burgers and began to cook, "Do you want cheese on your burger? Or anything to drink besides water. But not alcohol. I have some teas, sodas, and juices."

He hummed, “I’ll stick with water, I was running around for a few hours. And I’ll have cheese, please.”

You pulled out the cheese and refilled his cup, “Alright. I’m done being in silence. You can talk. But remember, I know where the knives are.”

He didn’t hesitate, “Do you have a boyfriend? Or a significant other?”

You glared at him, “Really, Toby? No. I don’t. Haven’t had a boyfriend for a year. I’m assuming you don’t have a girlfriend since you’re here for going home with a girl.”

“Yeah. I don’t. I’m a dick, but I’d never cheat on my girlfriend. I’d be and have been somebody’s extramarital affair though, as long as it is just for sex.”

You were stunned by his blunt honesty, “You what now?”

He smirked at your reaction, “I’m a giant douche. If a girl comes to me and says they wanna fuck me, I oblige. I don’t care if they are cheating, unless the guy wants to kill me. But I wouldn’t cheat on my girlfriend because I’m emotionally invested.”

You chuckled, “You’re an interesting man, Mr. Grisoni.”

He made a disgusted face, “Don’t call me that. Just Toby. Please. What is your name, by the way?”

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you that,” you broke your rules and walked up to him and offered your hand to him, “Hi, I’m (y/n). And I don’t know if it has been nice to meet you. But you’re very interesting.”

He shook your hand, “Hello, (y/n). I’m Toby, and it has definitely been nice meeting you. If it weren’t for you, I would probably have been on the news as ‘commercial director found murdered in empty lot’ or some shit like that.”

You held each other's hand for a few moments too long, then you finally pulled your hand away, returning to the stove, "so with introductions out of the way, I want to know more about this douche that ended up in my house. Did you always want to be a commercial director?"

He chuckled, "No. I want to do films. But those take longer. And I don't have a very good attention span. I should be on set right now, but I went out drinking last night and, here I am. They don't need me though."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm not the main guy. They know shit like this happens. I don’t know how I still have a job."

You just nodded and began pulling out all the fixings you had to go with the burgers. You took the pan off the heat when they were done and pulled down two plates, fixing your own burger.

You sat next to him, taking a sip from your glass of juice, "Go ahead and fix your burger."

He stood and fixed his burger, "Do you, uhh, have peanut butter? I like to have peanut butter on my burgers."

You got up and pulled a jar from the pantry, "You're a strange man, Toby."

You stood a little too close to him when you set down the jar. Then you were bold and reached for the drawer you kept the silverware in, right next to his hip.

You tapped the drawer, "Forks, spoons, and butter knives are in this drawer."

You then walked back to your plate and began to eat, ignoring the hungry look he was giving you.

He slathered his burger in peanut butter and sat back down next to you, "Thank you."

He began eating, finishing off his burger in three bites, "Can I have another one?"

You looked at him, you had only eaten half of yours, "Uh, yeah. You can have the two left."

He practically jumped out of his seat, "Thanks, yo. These are really good." He looked at you while he assembled his burgers, "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, do you live with a roommate? Just want to be prepared for other people to show up."

You shook your head, "No. I'm here alone. This is a family house, and I was the only one willing to move in. I couldn't say no to living rent free, even if it is away from the night life."

He smirked, "So, I can make you scream on the couch if I wanted, and you let me, of course."

You gave him a pointed glare, "Yeah… but the couch isn't very comfortable, it is kinda old."

He looked at you with surprise, "So maybe against the wall, or in your bed? This counter?"

You blushed and continued eating, not wanting to respond.

He sat down next to you again, "Is it too late to get a soda?"

"Oh, no. They are in the fridge, help yourself."

He got himself a soda and looked at you before taking a sip, "So, what do you do?"

You blushed, "I uh… I work at uh. Um… well. This is awkward. I work at an adult store."

He choked on his drink, "You work at a sex shop?"

You nodded, "Yeah. I needed a job while in school and they were hiring so… I applied. Now I'm just chillin there as a manager."

He gave you a wolfish grin, "Sounds fun."

You smirked, "It is. I get to help people feel comfortable exploring their sexuality. And it is very easy to tell when it is somebody's first time in that type of store. But surprisingly, to outsiders, it is not a sexy job."

He hummed, "Can you help me explore my sexuality?"

You smacked his arm playfully, "Shut up and eat your damn food."

He took a big bite of his burger, keeping eye contact with you until he swallowed, "I was right, you are feisty. I like that."

You blushed again, despite trying your best not to, "I said shut up. I'm going back to the couch."

You placed you plate and cup in the sink and went back to watching your show. Before long Toby was plopping down on the other side, stretching out as far as possible.

He hummed, "So what's your favorite toy?"

You threw a pillow at him, "Shut up. I regret telling you the truth."

He caught the pillow, "Oh, but you did, babydoll. Now, what are you gonna do about it?"

Something between you snapped and you were on him in a heartbeat. You told yourself this was the stupidest thing you've ever done. But you couldn't help yourself.

He held your hips as you straddled his lap, giving him a heated kiss. You tossed the pillow away and put your hands in his hair.

You pulled back enough to talk and tugged his hair, "Do you ever think before you talk? Do you ever fucking shut up?"

You were back to kissing him before he could respond. But he held your face back so he could, "No."

He released your face and pulled you back into the kiss, moving his hands back to your hips, which were starting to grind against him.

He moaned into the kiss and moved to lay further on the couch.

He groaned, and pulled away from the kiss, "ouch, you weren't kidding. This thing isn't comfortable."

You chuckled, "I wouldn't be opposed to my bed."

He smirked and got up, carrying you with him, "Point me in the right direction."

You told him where to go while feeling up his muscles, and teasingly rubbing yourself against his growing bulge.

"Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you happy I let you in?"

He let out a deep chuckle, "Oh, I'm happy you let me in. And it is a lot bigger than a banana."

You were tossed onto your bed and he quickly crawled on top of you. You pulled off your shirt and watched as he did the same with his. Shit, he's fit. You complemented yourself on your choice of strangers to let in your house.

He then leaned down to kiss you again, hands wandering your skin, quickly reaching around you to undo your bra.

He looked at you again, "You're fucking hot. I know I told you already. But damn!"

You smirked, "You ain't so bad looking yourself. Those are some mighty fine abs. And face."

You sat up and pushed him over, "I want your cock."

He moaned, "Yes. Have it. Take it."

You pulled off his pants and boxers, "Fuck. You weren't kidding."

You grinned and wrapped your lips around the head, and pumped the length with your hand. 

"So good. Fuck, (y/n)."

You looked up at him as you lowered your mouth further down. He had a look of ecstasy on his face, his hand coming down to grab your hair.

He moaned, “Oh my fuck.”

You continued to suck him, moaning around his cock. You reached a hand down to play with his balls. He pulled at your hair when you did that, moaning louder.

He bucked up his hips, “Stop. I’m close. Let me go down on you. Please.”

You pulled off with an obscene pop, “Oh, yes. Please.”

He sat up and tossed you towards the head of the bed, and made quick work of your pants.

He laid between your legs and ran his fingers through your slit, “You’re so wet,” he circled your clit with the tip of his finger, “so fucking wet. Did sucking my cock turn you on?”

You moaned and nodded, “Yes Toby. Please keep touching me. More stimulation please.”

He removed his fingers and replaced them with his mouth, sucking and licking you. 

He chuckled from deep in his chest and pulled off of you, "You make the most amazing noises I've ever heard."

You were flushed and panting, quickly coming undone and barely able to speak coherently, "Fuck… me. Please."

He was up faster than when you said he could come inside the house, "Condom. I used the ones I keep on me last night."

You pointed to the bedside table, "In there. I have some your size."

He moved over and pulled out the drawer, taking out a packet, "Oh, your naughty drawer. I've used a few of these toys before."

You groaned, "Focus Toby. You're getting a condom so you can fuck me and make me scream."

He opened the packet and rolled it on, "Right."

He got on the bed again and got between your legs, and rubbed your thighs. He placed the head at your entrance and slowly pushed in.

You moaned, "Fuck. Yes."

The wolfish grin Toby wore earlier returned and he began thrusting at a fast pace, "You feel so fucking good."

Before long, your ability to say anything coherent went away, you could only mumble and moan. As you got closer your release, the louder and more frequent your moans got.

He practically growled when he next spoke, "Are you getting close? Are you gonna cum on my cock?"

You nodded and then shrieked when he changed his angle and began to hit your g-spot. He went impossibly faster and before your mind could catch up you were screaming in ecstasy.

You were panting as you came down, his thrusts only slowing by a fraction, "Fuck… that was good. Let me ride you."

His eyes widened, "Hell yeah," he pulled out and laid next to you, "hop on, enjoy the ride."

You giggled at his eagerness, moving to straddle him, and setting a mild pace, placing your hands on his pecs.

You hummed and smiled down at him, "You have a better chest than I do."

He smirked, "Funny. I was thinking the same about you. You look like an angel riding me."

"I don't think they would do this. Angels can't sin."

He hummed, "Alright. You look like a fallen angel riding me."

You chuckled, speeding up your pace, "So I'm a demon?"

He moaned, "I saw what you keep in that drawer. So I don't think I'm far off."

You pinched one of his nipples and bounced faster, "Probably. But you're right there with me."

You enjoyed the moan he released when you pinched his nipple, and decided to play with them some more. His hips began to meet your bounces, and he was starting to pant.

"(Y/n), I'm close."

You hummed and sat up straight, bouncing as fast as possible and rubbing your clit, "You can come after I do, got it?"

He groaned and bit his lip before responding, "Yeah."

You continued to ride him, frustrated at rubbing yourself, “Gimme your hand.”

He put his hand in yours and you placed his fingertips on your clit, “Rub my clit for me. Then we will both be able to cum faster.”

He rubbed you as told, “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You smirked at him and continued fucking yourself on him. You haven’t felt this great in a while, hadn’t been this vocal in a while, “You’re sexy. I’d fuck you again.”

He reached up to also play with your nipples, “You would? Me too.”

You were getting close now. You couldn’t talk as much or as coherently; the closer you get, the more your moans were taking over your vocal cords.

Soon, you were on the edge, and worked enough to mutter out “close” before moaning again and screaming as your orgasm rushed through your body. Your body went weak for a moment, causing you to collapse onto his chest.

As you came down from your high, he moaned and grunted, letting himself finally have his release, “Fucking hell.”

He wrapped his arms around you and took deep breaths, calming himself down. You laid together, calming down.

You smiled into his chest, “You’re strong.’

He hummed, “I am.”

You pushed yourself up and looked into his eyes, wearing a devilish grin, “Could you fuck me against the wall next?”

He chuckled, “You just came hard, twice, but you’re already wanting to go again?”

You got off of him and moved to your bathroom, “Not right away. I’d like to rest for a bit.”

He got up and took care of his condom, then fixed his hair, “Alright. And yes, I’ll fuck you against the wall. Sounds fun.”

You came back smiling, smacking his ass before jumping in bed, “Hell yeah. Now get over here, those fucking lips of yours are addictive.”

He smirked and crawled into bed with you, giving you a kiss, “I’ve never heard that before.”

You hummed and laid on your back, “Also, I’m still expecting that five hundred dollars.”

He rest on his side and looked at you, “I think I promised five thousand.”

You sat up quickly, “You weren’t joking about that?”

“I don’t joke about money, baby.”

 You smirked, “I think you might have to stay here until tomorrow night. You know, just to make sure you get your money’s worth staying in my house. Any sex we have is just a coincidence.”

You gave him a kiss and pinched a nipple, “I’ve come to a conclusion. It has been a pleasure meeting you.”

Tags: @benpositivity, @formerly-anonhamster, @reylokisses

[jbbuckybarnes]

Human Safe Zone

Description: You’re being harassed at an event in NYC and a group of men help you. Prompt: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” Pairing: Sebastian x Reader Length: ~2,3k Warnings: verbal abuse, sexual abuse threats

M A S T E R L I S T

You were at a networking event slash after party of yet another big event in New York City. By now you didn’t even know anymore why you got invited to these. Sure, you were in a few little roles in movies and more or less an Instagram model, but being at these parties always was different. You liked it but didn’t feel like you were worthy of being invited. At least you got used to celebrities being normal people with flaws by now and didn’t have to fangirl over everyone that sat or stood near you. Sadly, you also learned about how weird and sometimes disgusting privileged people were.

“Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?” a man you’ve never seen before but was clearly somehow part of the white, rich and disgusting club, approached you. “No thanks, I plan on leaving soon.” you gave a polite smile and looked straight forward again. “Want me to bring you home, darling?” And there was the disgusting part of white, rich and disgusting. “No, I’m meeting some friends after this,” you lied. In moments like this acting classes were the best decision in your life. “Are you here alone?” he started giving you a smirk that made you uncomfortable. “Listen. I’m really not interested. If you wanted to have a nice conversation you wouldn’t ask such creepy questions.” you said with a strong voice. “C’mon princess, no need to get angry.” he tried touching your shoulder and you shoved his hand away. “Aw, you didn’t even give me a chance to be nice to you, doll.” he chuckled. Creep. “Fuck off,” you said in a sharp tone. Now there were a few people slowly starting to notice this development. “C’mon doll, you just need someone to treat you right.” he got pushy. “Does my mood look like you’re doing that right now?” you answered. “No, but it will after I’m finished with you.” he grabbed your wrist.

“Stop touching me or I will start screaming.” you tried to get your hands back to yourself. “Shut up, little bitch.” he wanted to continue but two men were suddenly behind him now. “You heard her, dude. Leave her alone.” one of them said. Buff, tall, frowning at the man. Instead of leaving you alone he tried leaving with you and the two men became four. They were not having it and broke the stranger and you apart. There almost was a fight but the security of the party was there quickly and got the man outside with three of your protectors. The only words you heard from them were the words ‘abuse’ and ‘police’. You didn’t even notice who the group of protectors were and that you were crying. The shock had gotten to you by now and the only man left from the group that protected you came to you.

He was carefully hugging you in the most non-threatening way and you started sobbing. “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go,” a voice that you were now recognizing whispered into your ear. “Th-thank you.” came out between sobs. He broke apart the hug a little and looked down on you. “Let’s get you into some fresh air.” His thumbs were wiping away your tears. By now you fully recognized that the person being so careful with you was Sebastian. You had one or two shared friends but you never really spoke to him at these events. You never spoke to many people at any of these events. You both sat down on the stairs in front of the building and you slowly calmed down from the crying. “You’re good at verbally defending yourself.” There was a soft smile forming on his face. “Y/N, right?” he asked and you nodded still a bit too paralyzed for words. His hand was on your back and definitely had a soothing effect on you. “Just breathe for a few minutes.” his voice came through again and you turned his suggestion into practice. With your eyes closed, you took deep breaths and calmed your body down further. Exhaustion slowly washed over you from all the adrenaline you had just experienced. You sleepily set down your head on his shoulder and weakly said, “I don’t wanna be alone right now.” “I’m here. I’ll keep you save. Promise.” his thumb caressed your upper arm.

"Excuse me, you're Miss Y/L/N, right?" a police officer was pulling you out off your heartbeat slowly stabilizing. "Yes," you answered. "I'll have to ask you some questions," he said taking out everything he'd need for that. He went through all the questions, took a picture of your arms where some light red marks were still left and then gave you a card with all the ways to contact the police department through. "Goodnight and stay safe, Miss Y/L/N." You turned around to lean on Seb again who had stayed there the whole time and rubbed your back when you got worked up. "Can you bring me home or something?" you mumbled. "Of course. Do you need to eat or drink something before tho? I'm sure that panic just did some stuff to you." he looked down at you. "I could go for some good pizza right now." you chuckled weakly and got a smile back.

"Seb, Y/N. Everything okay?" the man you now could identify as Chris was walking towards you with Anthony and Scott right behind him. You gave a weak nod while sitting up correctly again. “Let’s bring her home,” Seb said to his friends slowly standing up and got nods back before he and Chris helped you up. Surrounded by men keeping you save you walked block for block. You insisted on not driving since that made you feel unsafe right now. They started talking about the party about half a block in. “It wasn’t even a good party,” Scott muttered. “No flip cup game, not a good party.” Chris chimed in and got a laugh. “I wouldn’t even go to them if there weren’t some nice situations ever now and then,” Anthony added. “I just feel super out of place, to be honest. I’m not a celeb, I post pictures online and did a few side roles. I either get the weird people flirting with me or sometimes a decent girl talking to me.” you explained how this felt for you. “I’d consider you pretty close to celebrity level.” Seb looked down at you. “Nah, thanks. I’d like to keep my privacy how it is. I take only side roles on purpose.” you made a grimace. “You’re good though.” Anthony complimented you. “I guess.” you automatically shrugged your shoulders.

You were walking past the pizza place you always ordered takeout at. “Let’s all get pizzas and eat them at my place. Don’t wanna be alone tonight.” you were back to normal but still insanely exhausted and a bit shaky on your legs. “It’s on me!” Chris almost yelled and you sent a grateful smile his way. A margarita, a funghi, a BBQ and two New York style pizzas were in cartons and your hands a few minutes later and already lifted your mood. “How long is it from here?” Anthony asked. “A bit more than a block.” you smiled at him. “Torture.” was mumbled back with a sad face towards his pizza box. “Sooo…” Seb started and had your attention, “any new roles coming up?” “One. In a romcom. Just a few scenes but a fun character.” you smiled and already fished for your keys inside of your bra. Your slightly shaky hands took two tries to find the keyhole before you opened the door to the high rise building and then your actual apartment door. “Welcome, I haven’t cleaned in a few days. Hope you don’t mind,” you said throwing the keys to the side and went towards the kitchen to get plates. Not without throwing your fancy shoes across the floor. Once you came back the group of men had sat down on the couch and around the coffee table in the living room. You handed out plates, forks, and knives carefully before slowly opening your own pizza box. “Oh, someone is really hungry.” Anthony laughed at your hungry and desiring eyes at your food. “Shut up, I just burned through the pasta from noon because of that dumb asshole,” you said not offended but stern. “I love when you get shut down by girls.” Seb laughed at his friend. “Just wait till you are the victim.” his eyes narrowed and a giggle escaped both of them.

About halfway into the pizza, you could feel your body get back to normal again with the new energy it just got. And about three quarters in you were full and stood up to go to the kitchen and pack the pizza into the fridge. You heard someone come in behind you and turned around to see Sebastian. “Are you okay?” he asked coming to a hold right in front of you. “Tired, a bit unsafe, but yeah. I guess I’m good. Don’t know how that’s going to go when you’re all gone.” you nervously bit your lower lip. “If you want me to stay here, I wouldn’t mind.” his hands landed in his pant pockets. You nodded, “I’ll think about it.”

After another hour of funny conversations and distraction from the boys, the Evans siblings needed to go. “Need to be up early.” they stood up and went to the door and you came with them. “Thank you again.” you hugged them both. “You can always come to us when you feel unsafe, alright?” Chris rubbed your back before a final goodbye was interchanged and they were gone. You turned around again to see the two boys that were left bickering like little boys and a small smile started growing on your face. They reminded you of you and your best friend from high school. Always having a good time and just overall being a good team. Almost a bit intimidated to join and ruin the mood you sat down on your couch beside them. “You alright, babygirl?” Anthony asked in his usual funny way and you sent a small smile and a nod. You’d rather listen to them with your arms around your legs and your head on your knees. Anything keeping you from that weird lonely feeling creeping through your body. Being invaded like that really fucked with how vulnerable you were.

With a look at his watch, Anthony needed to leave a while later and you ended up alone with Seb. “You want me to stay?” his soft expression with his head dipping to the side made you smile. “Yeah, I’d like that. I feel very…” you tried to find words while playing with the seams on your clothes. “Exposed.” you heard him say and he took your hand that was playing with your clothing. “It’s...I don’t like it,” you looked down to escape his eyes. “It’s gonna get better with time, promise.” he now had both your hands in his and tried to look into your eyes. “Can we...maybe watch a movie? I don’t wanna sleep right now.” you were almost whispering. “Of course.” he said with a grin and chuckling, “What kind of movie?” “I have a new documentary about ancient stuff on my Netflix list.” you smiled at him before leaning past him to grab the remote on the table.

About halfway into the documentary exhaustion got you and you fell asleep cuddled up by his side. He continued watching but regularly looked down to check if you were still sleeping. There was a frown on your face and it definitely wasn’t relaxed sleep. That got very clear and obvious when you started moving in your dream, clearly reliving what had happened to you earlier. He gently shook you awake and your innocent eyes filled up with tears. “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go,” he said pulling you as close as he could and capturing your whole body with his arms. “What if you wouldn’t have been there?” your small sounding voice said. “But we were. And even if we weren’t...you would’ve yelled loud enough for people to save you. Promise.” a soothing small kiss landed on your forehead. “You promise a lot of things.” you huffed trying to lighten your own mood. “Cause I know there always is a way.” he smiled at your head going up and corrected your hair. “Thank you.” your smile was genuine and open. “For what?” he mirrored the expression. “For being such a gentle soul.” you cuddled yourself closer to him again. There was a pleasant silence in the room, only the paused Netflix screen was still on. “You know...I don’t know if it’s appropriate to ask this,” he interrupted the silence after a while, “but I always thought you were great and although this is the worst circumstances to get to know each other I’m still oddly grateful for it...you know, not in a weird way. I hope you get what I mean.” He was rambling and you looked up, “And?” “I’d really like to, um,” he scratched his neck, “go on a date with you...only if you want. This is probably incredibly bad timing and weird but...yeah.” A nervous lopsided smile and waiting eyes were confronting you. “Uh, I...yeah, I...I think I’d like that,” you said, not really knowing how to handle this situation. The only dates you ever went on were with strangers, all your past relationships formed from friendships, this was an odd in between. With a grin on his face, he pulled you closer into another hug again. “I promised, I won’t let you go.” he caused giggle from both sides. “Dork,” you whispered before slowly dozing off again.

M A S T E R L I S T

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-One

summary: The monster hunting trio takes on the Demogorgon. But Christine’s got a mission of her own. word count: 6.3k warnings: violence, firearms, Jonathan being held accountable for his actions, and self harm as depicted in 1x08 “The Upside Down.” Please proceed with caution!

[ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

If there was one thing Christine had learned from this experience, it was to never underestimate Nancy Wheeler. 

Nancy was Christine’s friend. Christine didn’t want to see her get hurt. That was the only reason she was going along with this ludicrous plan. She hadn’t thought there was…an actual plan. Just a bunch of vague ideas and intentions strung together to achieve an outlandish objective: three inexperienced teenagers kill an interdimensional eldritch monster with an unimaginable body count. 

But it seemed like Jonathan and Nancy had been busy since the funeral. Not only had they gone out to the woods, but they’d done research on other predators to predict the Demogorgon’s patterns. They’d strategized and gone to the gun store and talked over their outcomes. They were incredibly efficient. While they were setting traps and forging weapons, Christine worked on the singular task they’d given her. All she had to do was screw the bulbs back into the Christmas lights. After that, she just loaded her dad’s shotgun and tried to stay out of their way. 

It was a shame they hadn’t given the blood the same consideration. 

“Seriously?” Christine asked, turning her nose up at the steak knife Jonathan handed her. 

“You got a better idea?” 

“A couple. I could go for your nose.” 

“Chris,” Nancy sighed. “We are not doing this now.” 

Christine unhappily held her tongue. She took the knives out of their hands and marched them to the bathroom. 

“Fine. But I’m sanitizing them first.” 

Twenty minutes later they were standing in a circle in the living room. Surrounded by gasoline and nails, bear traps and Christmas lights, it was hard to feel like they weren’t in one of those cheesy horror movies. Christine was still struggling to comprehend how stupid they were being. Hopefully it wouldn’t click until later, when all of this was over. 

“Remember,” Jonathan began with a shaky nod. 

“Straight into Will’s room,” said Nancy. “And…” 

“Don’t step on the trap,” said Christine. 

“Wait for the yo-yo to move.” 

“Then…” Jonathan held up his lighter, letting the flame lick over his thumb briefly. Then he pocketed it, and held up his knife instead. “Alright. You guys ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be,” Christine said weakly. 

Nancy was more confident. “Ready.” 

The steak knives glinted in the low light. 

“On three,” Jonathan instructed. “One…two…you guys don’t have to do this…” 

“Jonathan, stop talking,” Nancy ordered. 

“I’m just saying, you don’t have to…” 

“Three!” 

Jonathan and Nancy both slid their knives across the palms of their hands, hissing as the blades cut deep. Christine gasped and nearly dropped her own in surprise. 

“Shit! What the hell are you doing?” 

“W-We’re—We’re getting the blood,” Nancy stammered. She looked so shocked by Christine’s response that for the moment she couldn’t feel the pain. 

“We said on three,” Jonathan grimaced. “Three, Christine!” 

“Well, yeah! I knew we were counting! I didn’t think you assholes would cut your hands! We need those! Jesus…” 

Jonathan rolled his eyes at her as she flipped the blade in her hand. She braced herself, then dragged the knife sharply across her shoulder blade. It hurt like a bitch, and she figured they could all use some small stitches. But at least she’d have both hands ready to fight. 

The worst part was forcing out the blood. They had to make sure it would be enough to lure the Demogorgon, which meant Jonathan and Nancy squeezing their hands and holding back their cries. Christine tensed her shoulder, trying not to notice the feel of the blood trickling down her arm onto the carpet. Three dark stains were forming beneath them. 

For several minutes, they bled and waited in the silence. 

“Now what?” Christine asked nervously. 

“Now we wait,” answered Nancy. 

“Now we wait,” Jonathan repeated. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” 

He eased the knives out of their hands, heading first to the kitchen. He was almost out of the room when Nancy called after him. 

“Jonathan? Just…um…be careful.” 

“You too. Be ready.” 

Nancy nodded, mustering a smile. She cradled her arm to her chest and grabbed the small pistol she’d been loading earlier. She was so busy checking the bullets that she nearly missed Christine’s pointed look. 

“What?” Nancy asked, all too innocently. 

Christine held up her hands, busying herself with her shotgun. She wasn’t touching that with a fifty-yard pole. Actually, she might rather the Demogorgon. 

When Jonathan returned with the gauze, he made a beeline for Nancy. He ushered her onto the couch, bandaging her hand as gently as he could and comforting her in a hushed voice. Christine did her best not to listen. She sat back in the destroyed armchair, swallowing a quip about making sure the blood from her open wound was really sinking into the upholstery. As the other two whispered, she just grinned incredulously at the ceiling. She was third wheeling a monster-hunting date between Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers. Her life truly could not get any worse. 

There was only so much a girl could take. 

“Is that too tight?” Nancy asked him as she wrapped his hand. 

“N-No,” Jonathan stuttered. “It’s fine. Thanks.” 

Christine was staring resolutely at the boarded up wall across from her. She might not be looking, but she could hear their hitched breath as they sat too close to each other on the couch. Later, she would swear it was an involuntary cough she let out to break the silence. 

“O-Oh, uh, Chris,” Nancy said, finally remembering that there were other people in the room. “Come here. I’ll um—I’ll patch up your back.” 

“Uh, here!” Jonathan sprang to his feet, and offered the end of the couch. “I’ll just…” 

It would have been all too easy to make the situation worse. But Christine just smiled tightly, and took the seat. She couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction at the low hiss Jonathan let out upon seeing the armchair. He took one look at her blood stain, and evidently decided to pace instead. 

“So,” he said, searching for something to talk about while Nancy worked on her shoulder. “Uh…that’s your dad’s?” 

“Yup.” Christine patted the shotgun in her lap. “Hasn’t seen a lot of use.” 

“He doesn’t hunt?” 

“God, no. It’s mostly just for show. I think he was always hoping to clean it in front of the first guy I brought home. Scare the shit out of him. Guess that didn’t work out.” 

“You’ve still got time,” Nancy laughed behind her. “

Maybe. If we make it out of this.” 

“Are you sure it works?” Jonathan asked skeptically. “I mean, can you use it?” 

“Thanks for the confidence, Byers. Yeah, I know how to use it.” 

“Where did you learn how to shoot, anyway?” Nancy asked. “I don’t think you ever told me.” 

“Long story short, my dad got invited to a shooting range for a work thing. He couldn’t find a babysitter, so I ended up hanging out with a bunch of middle aged business men and learning to fire a Remington 11-48.” 

“Jesus. How old were you?” 

“I don’t know. Probably like nine?” 

“Wow,” Nancy laughed in disbelief. “And no one thought that was weird?” 

“Eh, we were living Texas at the time. Not as weird as you’d think,” Christine disregarded. “Besides, it’s not like I make a habit of messing around with my dad’s gun. I shot a tree once when I failed a math test, but…that’s about it.” 

“I don’t know,” said Jonathan lightly. “After this, you might wanna pick up the hobby.” 

“Yeah, well. I don’t think I’m the one who needs new hobbies.” 

Nancy’s fingers faltered on Christine’s shoulder, and the room stilled. 

“Chris…” 

“No. Look, I know you two have been through some shit, and we’re not talking about it because he turned out to be useful, but that doesn’t mean it’s not creepy as hell.” 

“He apologized, Christine. I don’t know what else…” 

“Oh, he apologized to you? That’s nice.” 

Jonathan stepped hesitantly into her field of view. He was picking at his fresh bandages, clearly uncomfortable. Christine wished it was bothering him more. 

“Christine, I’m…I’m sorry. Really. I know I shouldn’t have taken those pictures.” 

“No shit. So why did you do it?” 

He didn’t seem to have an answer for that. Even Nancy wasn’t able to come up with an excuse to let him off the hook. 

“No?” Christine prompted. “What was it for? Fun? Porn? Blackmail?” 

“What? N-No!” Jonathan was spluttering. “Why would I do that?” 

“I don’t know. A bunch of pictures of us drinking and smoking and stuff? You tell me, Jonathan. You don’t seem to like us much. Well, most of us.” 

“No, look, I—I just…I was out looking for Will, and—and sometimes when you’re working with a camera, you don’t even realize what you’re shooting. You’re so focused on the lighting and composition that you don’t even realize what you’re taking pictures of until later.” 

“Wow,” Christine laughed dryly. “That’s some focus you’ve got. To be so obliviously in the zone that you didn’t realize you were taking pictures of teenagers for twenty minutes.” 

“Christine, stop,” Nancy scolded. “Do we have to do this now?” 

“Why not? We’ve got time to kill, right? Besides, I don’t know why you’re defending him. I mean, he took pictures of you in Steve’s room.” 

“Well they’re—they’re gone now. So it doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters! The creep took pictures of you through a guy’s window!” 

“Right, I’m a creep,” Jonathan said angrily. “And you’re just Nancy’s super concerned best friend. You know, I don’t think you really get to play that card when you were calling her a slut a couple hours ago.” 

“Oh, no! You do not get to tell me what it is to be a good friend!” 

“Fine! Next time I’ll just get some spray paint, huh?” 

“I had nothing to do with that!” 

“Guys, stop it! Seriously!” 

“Ha, right. So Tommy just climbed up on the marquee without any of the employees noticing, right? You’re telling me you didn’t turn the other way?” 

“No, I didn’t! I was on the phone with the cops because of your stupid pictures!” 

“Both of you need to stop!” 

Thunk. 

All three of them stopped dead. Something was crunching the gravel outside, working its way up the driveway toward the house. Fighting forgotten, Christine already had her shotgun mounted on her shoulder. It was lucky she hadn’t gone for trigger yet, because another bang made everyone jump. The front door rattled with rapid knocks. 

“Jonathan? Are you there, man? It’s—It’s Steve! Listen, I just wanna talk!” 

“Steve?” Christine repeated incredulously. 

Nancy and Jonathan looked just as confused. The knocking continued on the door, until finally Nancy stood up to answer it. 

“Don’t!” Jonathan hissed, grabbing her wrist. “What—What if it’s a trap?” 

“What?” 

“It’s not a trap,” Christine whispered with exasperation. “It’s a Demogorgon, not a parrot. It doesn’t even have a mouth!” 

“We don’t know what it can do!” 

“Jonathan?” Steve was still pounding on the door. “Really! I’m not here to fight! I just need to talk to you!” 

“Why does he want to talk to you?” Nancy asked, looking back at Jonathan. 

“I don’t know! Probably to try punching me again!” 

“Well, he’s not going anywhere,” Christine hissed in frustration. “And he can’t stay. Someone’s gotta open the door.” 

“Okay, I’ll—I’ll go,” said Nancy, ignoring Jonathan’s protests. “Just cover me, okay?” 

Christine nodded, notching the shot gun again. She moved against the wall, but kept her gun trained on the front door as Nancy stepped up. They exchanged a nervous look. Silently, they counted to three, and Nancy undid the chain lock. 

“Steve, listen to me,” she ordered, right over his rambling. “You need to leave.” 

“No, I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” 

“I don’t care about that. You need to leave.” 

“No, no, no, listen,” he begged, still banging on the door. “I—I—I messed up, okay? I messed—I messed up! Okay? Really. Please. I just want to make things right.” 

He was still rambling. Nancy looked over to Christine for help, but all she could do was shrug and jab her gun at the door. Jonathan just waved wildly, miming slamming the door shut. Frustrated, Nancy scrambled for her own excuse. 

“Look, Steve, I…” 

“Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?” 

“Nothing!” Nancy’s arm briefly disappeared into the gap as Steve grabbed for her hand, and she wrenched it back inside. “Noth—It was an accident.” 

“What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” 

“Wait a sec, did he do this to you?” 

“No!” The door rocked as Steve tried to push past her, and Nancy tried to shove him back onto the porch. “No! No, Steve!” 

“Nancy, let me in!” 

With one final thrust, Steve came tumbling into the living room. He looked around wildly, ready to find Jonathan and his bruised knuckles. But he was woefully unprepared for everything else he found. His eyes were still bloodshot and discolored from the fight, which made them look even more panicked as they flicked around the room. Jonathan, the Christmas lights, the reinforced bat, the blood on the floor… 

“What is…? What the—holy shit! Ch-Christine? Is that a gun?” 

Christine looked down at the shotgun in her hands, the barrel still trained on Steve’s chest. She pointed it quickly at the ground. “Sorry. Hey, Steve.” 

“You need to get out of here,” Jonathan ordered, grabbing Steve by his green sweater. 

“Whoa, no! What is all…?” 

“Listen to me, I am not asking you. I am telling you, get out of here!” 

“What is—What is that smell? Is that gasoline?!” 

“Steve!” Nancy shouted over the commotion. She raised her own gun and replaced Christine’s aim on Steve’s chest. “Get out!” 

“Nancy, stop!” 

Jonathan was stumbling out of the way just as Christine was scrambling to her feet. Steve looked between them all hysterically. 

“Wait! What? What is going on?” 

“Nancy!” Christine leapt for Nancy’s arm. They wrestled, Christine trying desperately to force the gun down while Nancy fought her off. “Stop, Nancy! You could hurt him!” 

“He needs to go! You said it! Steve, you have five seconds to get out of here!” 

“Or what?!” Christine screeched. “You’ll fucking shoot him?!” 

“Okay, is this a joke?” Steve demanded, his hands waving wildly in front of him. “Stop! Put the gun down!” 

“I’m doing this for you!” 

“Nancy, knock it off!” 

“Hold on! Hold on, Nancy! Wait, is this a—What is this?”

“Nancy.” 

“Three…” 

“No, no, no!” 

“Nancy, don’t!” 

“Nancy!” 

“Two…” 

“NANCY!” Jonathan’s bellow finally caught everyone’s attention. “The lights!” 

Everyone froze to look up at the ceiling. Somewhere in the midst of the panic, the Christmas lights had begun to flash. The room was lit up in scattered colors, blinding them sporadically with their intensity. Christine could hear the hum of the electricity like a high pitched whine in her ear. 

“It’s here,” Jonathan breathed. 

He jumped for the bat on the coffee table, and Christine finally freed Nancy’s gun arm. She hoisted her own gun onto her shoulder and readied her finger on the trigger. Pressing her back to Nancy’s, they turned to scan the room. 

“Wait, what’s here?” Steve demanded. 

“Where is it?” asked Nancy. 

“Where is what—whoa! Christine, easy with that!” 

“Where is it?” Nancy demanded again. 

“I don’t know,” said Jonathan, joining their circle. “I don’t see it!” 

“Your mom said the walls, right?” Christine asked. “Look at the walls!” 

“Where is what?” Steve screamed. “Hellooo? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going—…?” 

Steve finally got his answer. But not because anyone spoke. 

There was a tremendous crash, and all of them ducked as the ceiling cracked dangerously over their heads. Plaster and dust rained down on them, and a sound like tearing flesh ripped through the air. Christine swallowed a scream and squinted up at the ceiling. It was buckling under the weight of something, the last few pieces of spackle held together only by the thick, gooey vines that seemed to have grown underneath them. There was a sickening growl, and a slick, white something burst through the remains of the roof. 

Christine did not wait for a better look. 

In unison, she and Nancy spun around, shooting once, twice at the thing in the room. It squelched and squealed. Christine couldn’t even tell if they were hitting it or if it didn’t like the noise. Everyone was screaming, but she couldn’t make it out over the ringing in her ears. Someone grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her back toward the hallway. 

“Go, go, go!” 

All thoughts of a plan flew out of her head. The only words she knew were “run” and “away.” Run away from whatever was breaking through the ceiling, whatever had toppled heavily to the floor, whatever was roaring loud enough to shake the glass windows in their panes. 

They ran down the hallway, vaulting over the bear trap and skidding into Will’s room. Jonathan slammed the door shut and they all ran to get into position. Away from the flashing colored lights, it was easier for Christine to concentrate. It was easier to reload the gun, to point it at the door and step away from the pool of gasoline on the floor. She wanted to focus on the yo-yo, but there was still one thing annoying her. 

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Je—Jesus! What the hell? What the hell was that?” 

“SHUT UP!” 

It was the only response Steve got from the three of them before the Demogorgon screeched again on the other side of the door. 

Christine and Nancy raised their guns, Jonathan lifting the bat with one hand and the lighter with the other. He flicked it open and waited for the opportune moment. The spare lamps in Will’s room were still flickering dimly. The house creaked as the Demogorgon crept down the hall, that unearthly clicking noise crawling through the door and under Christine’s skin. But the door remained untouched. 

“What’s it doing?” Nancy demanded. 

Jonathan swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.” 

The smiley face on the yo-yo mocked them as they trembled. 

The lights stopped flickering. 

“Do…Do you hear anything?” asked Nancy. 

“No,” breathed Christine. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.” 

“No.” Jonathan shut the lighter, looking around at the lamps. “No flickering, no monster.” 

“Monster?” Steve echoed weakly. “Oh shit, man. This…This is crazy.” 

Everyone continued to ignore him. 

“Should we check?” Nancy asked. 

“And then what?” challenged Jonathan. “What if it’s there?” 

“Then I shoot it.” 

“No, I shoot it,” Christine said firmly. 

“Why you?” 

“Cause I’ve got the bigger gun.” 

No one had anything to say to that. Grudgingly, Nancy let Christine take the lead. Jonathan edged around to the door, his hand hovering over the door handle. He looked back to Christine, and once she nodded, he eased the door open. The creak of wood alone was enough to make her reconsider. But she thought of Barb, of the party, of Will standing up to this thing in the Upside Down for nearly a week. Her grip tightened on the gun, and she stepped out into the hallway. 

There was nothing there. Her eyes followed the yo-yo string to the unsprung bear trap on the floor. The carpet was intact. The walls did not have cracks. There was no slime or clicking or monster. 

Christine let out a sharp breath. She’s been trying to whistle, but was too nervous to manage it. 

Jonathan stepped out behind her, then Nancy and Steve. Those with weapons kept them ready, and they slowly picked their way back down the hall. 

The living room was just as empty. A few more pieces of fallen furniture were the only sign that anything had been there at all. The dust and plaster had vanished from the floor, and the ceiling seemed to have healed. 

When she was sure the room was clear, Christine hurried over to the corner that had split open. She tested her weight on the broken television and hopped on top. She peered up at the ceiling, looking for any fault or weakness. But it looked completely normal. Even when she jabbed it with the nose of her shotgun, it didn’t give way. 

She deflated. “Damn it.” 

“What?” Nancy asked with worry. 

“Nothing. I just thought, if it was still open, I might be able to...” 

“What, go after it?” asked Jonathan. “No. No, Christine, we do this on our turf. This is where the trap is. We can’t charge into the Upside Down.” 

“The Upside Down?” Steve echoed. “What’s the Upside Down?” 

“No, it’s not that,” Christine said, ignoring him. “But if Will’s in the woods behind your house, I mean...we’re so much closer than the lab...” 

“Chrissy, no,” Nancy said resolutely. “What if it closed and you got trapped on the other side?” 

“The other side of what? What’s the Upside Down?” 

“If it closed, I’d just go to the lab and find the gate.” 

“If you could get past the monster,” Jonathan reminded her. 

“Which we’re trying to kill right now.” 

“Chris, stop,” Nancy begged. “For all we know, killing this thing will shut the gate. You could get stuck on the wrong side forever, and—and I’m not losing you too!” 

“This is crazy,” Steve muttered, beginning to pace the edge of the kitchen. “This is—This is actually crazy. This is crazy. This is crazy. This is CRAZY!” 

He pounced on the phone, actually managing to press a few buttons before Nancy snatched it out of his hands. She threw it on the floor, hard. The plastic shattered, and Christine had to restrain herself from shooting it for good measure. 

“What are you—What are you doing?” Steve demanded “Are you insane?” 

“Are you?” Christine challenged. “We can’t call anyone! They could get hurt!” 

“What are you talking about?! We could get hurt! We could get killed! We have to call the cops! That thing is—it’s crazy! And…” 

“And it’s going to come back,” Nancy snapped. “So you need to leave. Now.” 

Steve looked around at the three of them. Nancy, resolute with her pistol in hand. Jonathan, with the bat he’d hammered nails through for a weapon. Christine, standing on top of the broken television with a shotgun aimed at the ceiling. And there stood Steve, shaking like a leaf with his face beaten half to hell. He took one last look at all of them. And then he ran. 

“Steve, wait!” Christine jumped to the floor, hurrying after him. “Come back!” 

Nancy slammed the front door closed, rounding on Christine. “Christine, this is dangerous.” 

“No, I know! But he’s…” 

“If he stays here, he’s just going to get hurt. When it comes back then…” 

“But it goes after blood!” 

“I know that! That’s how we got it here!” 

“Steve’s bleeding,” Christine insisted. “Jonathan split his face like a freaking grape! What if the Demogorgon goes after him instead? He can’t be alone!” 

Nancy hadn’t considered that. Sadly, she didn’t have time to. 

The lights were already starting to flicker again. The room glowed and hummed, and Christine, Nancy and Jonathan scrambled into the middle of the room. Back to back, they rotated, looking up and down and every which way for any tell of the Demogorgon. 

“Where is it?” Nancy was murmuring repeatedly. “Where is it?” 

“Come on,” Jonathan grumbled. “Come on, you son of a bitch.” 

“You see it?” 

“No! Where…?” 

“Come on! Where are you? Come on!” 

“Quiet!” 

The lights went out. Jonathan had finally stopped shouting, at first all they could hear was their own breathing. Then—there. There was the clicking sound. But it was all around them, as if it were pulsing through the lights instead of coming from the creature itself. Christine’s head whipped back and forth, searching for the source. Then she looked up, and a trail of slime trickled onto her face. 

She screamed. 

The Demogorgon roared, and all three of them went flying in different directions. Christine stumbled forward, tripping over the debris on the floor and nearly wiping out. She fumbled with the gun. When she wheeled around, she got her first look at the monster. 

It was huge—an understatement. The only reason it fit in the Byers’ house was because it was hunched over, its long limbs folding in on itself at unnatural angles. The skin was pale and slick with slime. It had long arms and legs, knuckled talons at the end of each. There was a protrusion that should have been a head. But there was no face. There were no visible nose or eyes. Just a gaping mouth that unfolded like a lethal blossom, each petal lined with sharp teeth from tip to maw. 

Christine dropped to one knee, shooting up to avoid Jonathan and Nancy. She caught the creature in the shoulder, which didn’t seem to do much damage. The Demogorgon squealed and honed in on her. It roared, and bits of spittle flecked her face. Christine screamed back at it, and shot again. 

This time, she clipped the edge of its mouth. The Demogorgon gave a gurgling cry and reeled back. Extending to its full height, its neck caught on the Christmas lights. It thrashed, back and forth, pulling real bits of the wall down with the nails. Christine had to dodge the projectiles. 

“Chrissy, move!” Nancy screeched. “We have to move!” 

Christine made a dash for the other side of the living room, but one of the Demogorgon’s flailing limbs blocked her. She tried again, and this time the coffee table flew in front of her path, splintering against the wall. It clattered to the ground, the pieces stacking on top of the broken TV. Above them, slime was still dripping from the reopened hole in the ceiling. 

Across the room, her eyes locked with Jonathan’s. He nodded to her, and then raised his bat. 

“Nancy, go! This is for my brother, you bastard!” 

There was a sickening squelch as nails tore through the Demogorgon’s flesh. Its scream shook the very foundations of the house. But Christine didn’t have time to look. She took a running jump and vaulted herself off the table, punching through the hole in the ceiling. 

If she had to describe it, she would’ve said it was like being ripped apart. As Christine’s head broke the surface in one room, her legs were still weighing her down in the other. She had to tear at the vines to squeeze her arms through. Every piece fell upwards, hitting the floor that was above her head. Gravity was pulling her in two opposite directions, and her confused blood was rushing to her head. She spat out wads of spit and goo, trying to slide her torso further into the Upside Down. 

“WILL!” 

Her voice echoed and distorted off the filthy walls. It was exactly like the room she’d left, but cold and dark. The same dark vines covered almost every surface, blending with the Christmas lights that stretched out without bulbs. Pale particles floated through the air like dust motes, but large enough to be flower petals. Christine coughed as she breathed them in. 

“Will! Will, where are you? We’re—We’re coming! Will, we’re coming!” 

She was out to her hips. Half her body through, her weight threatened to send her tumbling onto the floor over her head. She batted her stringy hair out of the way, trying to see if she had a clear fall. 

“Will? Will! Answer me!” 

“Christine?” 

Someone was screaming in the distance, but it wasn’t Will. With all the blood rushing to her ears, she couldn’t even tell what direction it was coming from. It could have been from the portal just as easily as it could have been the woods. 

“Will, we’re here!” she screamed, one leg out to her knee. “The living room! Will, hurry!” 

“Christine! Christine, is that you?” 

“The house! Come to the house! We’re—fuck!” 

An ear-piercing scream ripped out of her throat as something closed around her ankle on the other side. It was crushing, and then yanking her back through the hole. 

“No! N-No—Will! WILL! H-Help!!” 

She planted her elbows on the ceiling, trying to counter gravity. But whatever was pulling her was ten times stronger than she was. Her arms buckled, and no matter how much she clawed at the vines, her slimy arms could not find purchase. 

“No! No, no, please! Help me! HELP!” 

Christine was ripped back through the portal, gravity grabbing her all at once and dropping her body toward the floor. But her ankle was still held tight in the grip of the Demogorgon. She screamed again, shrieks breaking through her uncontrollable sobs as her leg twisted painfully and almost certainly broke. 

The Demogorgon roared, and launched her body across the room. Christmas lights scratched her face and exposed skin, tangling in her limbs and ripping out of the wall as she flew. She slammed into the wall and landed hard. Someone screamed, but she kept her eyes shut tight. The lights hurt too much, and the world around her was an incomprehensible blur of sounds. Most of them were screams, some of them gunshots. She barely understood half of it. 

“Christine!” 

“Jonathan, move!” 

“Go the hell, you son of a bitch!” 

“Steve?” 

“He’s in the trap!” 

“Jonathan, now!” 

“Christine?” 

“Holy shit…” 

“Come on, Chrissy. Shit. Come on.” 

“Chrissy, please! Chrissy? Christine!” 

Christine groaned, batting away the hands that were touching her face. She was met with sighs of relief, and a watery laugh she would have recognized anywhere. 

“Knock it off, Nancy. Did I miss it? Where’s…?” 

“It’s gone,” Jonathan assured her. “We got it.” 

“Are you sure? It’s…” 

“Hey, hey, hey!” 

She wasn’t sure which one of them yelled louder as she tried to sit up. More hands than there should have been pushed her back down, and some moved to brush the hair out of her face. 

“God, I—I told you not to do that,” Nancy cried in a trembling voice. “I told you not to do that! You could’ve died! That was—That was so stupid!” 

“Yeah, well. Since when do I listen to you?” 

“Since now. Starting now. We listen to each other.” 

“Okay, yeah. Ow. That—That sounds like a pretty good deal.” 

“Can you move?” Jonathan asked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

There was some shifting, and each one of them grabbed her arms. They moved slowly, trying to limit the amount of times she cried out in pain. Eventually she managed to make it upright. Still, the world was tilting and swimming in front of her. 

“O-Okay, hey! Hey, hey, Christine!” A warm voice was whispering in front of her, and she felt something moving back in forth in front of her face. “Come on, Chris, how—how many fingers am I holding up?” 

Christine blinked her eyes open. Now she was sure she had a concussion. This was more confusing than the fight. 

“Steve? What are you…? You came back?” 

“Yeah,” he said weakly. “Yeah, of course I did.” 

“Why?” 

“Well, I…you know, I uh…cause you told me to. And I’ve gotta do what my lab partner says, otherwise I probably won’t pass physics. I told you I couldn’t survive another class on my own.” 

He patted her heavily on the shoulder, making her wince. Nancy quickly ushered him out of the way. 

“Chris, I need you to talk to me. What hurts?” 

“Um…everything? I’m pretty sure I flew across the room, so…” 

“What hurts most?” Jonathan prompted. “Is there anything you can’t move?” 

It took a lot of mental work to count her limbs. She wasn’t feeling up to it after being airborne. But she weakly tested her head, arms, and hands, not pausing until she tried her left leg. 

“Ah! Fuck!” 

“What?” Nancy asked. “W-What is it?” 

“My leg,” she breathed through clenched teeth. “Definitely my leg.” 

“O-Okay,” Jonathan stammered. “I’ll get you some ice. Don’t move.” 

Christine desperately would have liked to snap back that she couldn’t move anywhere, but her head hurt too much to manage it. The pain that had filled her body was starting to ebb, fading in some joints so it could redouble in others. Her head hurt like a bitch, as did her shoulder where she’d slammed into the wall. Her leg felt like it was on fire, and she was too much of a baby to look at it properly. She looked anywhere else instead. 

The living room managed to look even messier than it had before. The carpet was singed and burnt, the combusted trail of gasoline leading into the hall. There was white foam where Jonathan had used the fire extinguisher, and the bloody bat lay abandoned by the door. 

“Did it work?” she asked Nancy. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it did. I shot it a couple more times and then Steve beat it down the hall into the trap. Jonathan lit it up and then…then it disappeared.” 

“It vanished?” Christine asked, her blood running cold. “You didn’t see it?” 

“No. But I don’t think it’s coming back here. If it’s not dead, it’s majorly injured. It doesn’t have long.” 

“Not dead is still not dead. We—We have to call Hopper. We have to—shit, we have to get back to school.” 

“School?” Steve repeated disbelievingly. “Forget school, you need a damn hospital.” 

“Not until we know,” she insisted. “Not until I know the kids are safe.” 

“Okay,” Nancy conceded. “Okay, we’ll—we’ll patch you up and then drive back to the middle school.” 

“The middle school? What kids, your brother? I mean—does anyone want to explain what just happened here?” 

Christine and Nancy shared a look. His panic might have been funny if the wounds weren’t so fresh—both the figurative and literal. For now, it just made the whole thing seem even worse. Nancy was the one who finally sighed. 

“It’s complicated, Steve. And—thank you, seriously, for coming back. But it’s probably best if you just…go home, and never talk about this again.” 

Steve didn’t even think about it. 

“No. No, I—I ran once, and that’s when I realized I—I’m not putting this behind me. Okay? I’m—I’m not putting you behind me. I meant what I said, Nancy. I messed up. Big time. And if I have to beat the shit out of some—some horror movie monsters that look like…I don’t know, fucked up poinsettias. If that’s what I have to do to make it up to you, then so be it. I’m not going anywhere.” 

It looked like Nancy was about to cry. She nodded hastily, and shoved a painful smile up onto her face. Steve looked like he wanted to tuck her hair behind her ears, or rub his hand along her back. But he thought better of it, and placed it back on his knee. Nancy reached over and placed her hand on top of his. 

Jonathan saved the moment before anyone could say anything. 

“Hey,” he said, holding up an ice pack and some towels. “Give her some air, you guys.” 

“Right,” Steve said, getting his feet. “Hang in there, Walcott. You’re a real badass.” 

Nancy led him away, only as far as the couch. She spoke to him in a low voice, simple words standing out like “Will,” “Barb,” “missing,” and “dead.” Christine was almost thankful when Jonathan ducked into her line of sight this time. 

“Here. For your face.” 

He handed her a wet wash cloth. Christine assumed it was for the blood, but the tentative hand she brushed over her cheek disproved the theory. She wasn’t bleeding. She was crying. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, pressing her face into the fabric. “My leg just…really fucking hurts.” 

“Yeah, I know. It sucks.” 

He turned over his shoulder, glancing fleetingly at the couch. Christine bit her lip hard. She stared determinedly into his chest. 

“Shut up, Jonathan. Just fix my leg.”

[felicismagic18873]

Beyond the Blaze (8)

Summary: 4 Years old, Alyssa Potter finds her life taking a magical turn as she steps into a world of cute green giants, talking robots and misunderstood aliens. All of it is almost enough to make her forget the probable destruction of her own world.

Mister Robot didn't come down for lunch or dinner.

Not even to say goodnight when Mister Bruce tucked her in and went to bed himself.  She did ask after him but Mister Bruce just said, "He's down in the lab, working probably. Don't worry, he'll come up when he feels tired. You just go to sleep okay?"

But it didn't feel okay, even if she had nodded. Mister Robot was down there all alone and he-he hadn't even eaten and he must be so hungry. How could she sleep knowing that? Well, she didn't have to. She pushed off the covers and stood up striding out of her room with determination. She climbed down the stairs carefully, not wanting to fall.

Mister Bruce had made it clear that it was okay for her to do whatever she wanted in the kitchen as long as she stayed away from the stove and the knives, so she didn't feel any hesitation in taking an apple and a small bag of blueberries. She gathered them in her arms and stood near the elevator. It was time to go down.

She bit her lip looking at the ceiling hesitantly, the last time she'd gone anywhere without having permission didn't end up very well.

"Em, Mr.Jarvis?"

"Yes, Little Miss?"

"Can I go visit Mr.Robot? He's been down there for-everr", She swayed back and forth a little before remembering her aunt telling to stand straight.

"I do believe that's quite incorrect Miss. He has only been down there for approximately 9 hours. It's quite normal for sir."

"That doesn't mean its okay." She tried not to make it sound like a question, she stood up a bit straighter. "He should eat. It's not good."

"Sir could use some food.", he sounded thoughtful.

Alyssa grinned, "Yes! And I am bringing him food. To eat." She widened her eyes and stared hopefully at the ceiling.

"Only if there are no detours this time."

"Detour?" She tilted her head.

"A diversion from the given path."

Alyssa laughed, "Promise."

The elevator door opened, she hopped in.

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

The music went down suddenly, Tony looked up from the program he was working. He made a face at the ceiling, JARVIS knew not to cut off the music unless someone was visiting. Maybe it was Pepper? The elevator opened,

"Hello Mista'." And in walked little Matilda.

Tony stared at the door for a second. He squinted his eyes before blinking a few times. Still there. It wasn't a hallucination after all, huh.

"Kid, What on earth are you doing here? It's like what..1 in the morning. No, wait-erase that how are you in here?" He put down the tablet.

"Because I wanted to," she skipped towards Tony and threw an apple towards him which he caught easily. She put the bag of blueberries on the desktop.

"Because you wanted to." He repeated slowly, " What do you mean because you wanted to? That's not how this works, JARVIS why is she down here." His voice showed his skepticism.

"Exactly what she said 'Mista Tony', because she wanted to."

Alyssa burst into peals of laughter and Tony couldn't help his own lips tilting up into a smirk.

"This is a conspiracy against me! I'm telling you. My own AI." He mock glared at the kid, though he knew his tilted lips probably gave away his amusement. He wasn't really angry he knew JARVIS wouldn't have let her in if he was doing something dangerous, "Why would you do that?"

Alyssa giggled, "W-Why not"

He squinted his eyes staring at her. Tony then fake gasped, putting a hand on his chest. "Are you sassing me kid?

"I'd never sass you Mista robot!" Alyssa looked mischevious.

"Yesh right," he rolled his eyes letting his hand fall down from his chest, "All you do is sass, not that I hate it. It pretty good, for a kid" He clarified throwing the apple from one hand to the other.

Alyssa pouted not liking the critic of her 'sassiness'. Tony sighed, Alyssa was looking at him expectantly. He stared around to find a place for her to sit since she had apparently decided to stay, who knows why. There was the couch at the end of the workshop. he stared at it for a while then decided it would take too much effort to pull it closer.

He cleared the desktop he was working on throwing some of the things on the ground, just some tools nothing important then signed her to jump on. Alyssa bit her lip looking at the desk that didn't have any ridges to help her climb.

Tony rolled his eyes, "Kids" he muttered before picking her up and plopping her on the table.

Alyssa wiggled a little, settling in.

Tony picked his tablet again putting the apple on the table, " So, what do you do with kids anyway? Do you  need a bottle or something?" He looked at her beneath his lashes and had to hold back a laugh at the offended look on her face. "I'm four, not one!" She huffed.

"And I am an inventor, not a babysitter."

"I am not a baby!" She crossed her arms over her chest looking away.  

Tony wondered for a second whether he should say something but it wasn't like he said something wrong.  He wasn't good with kids (Unlike Thor, the stupidly friendly alien)  and maybe it was better if she didn't stay. He looked at the apple for a second his stomach rumbled a little but he decided not to eat it in the end.

The last thing he needed was the kid to come down here every day with food, even if it did make him feel all happy. Ugh, mushy stuff! Bad Tony! He shook his head to chase away the thoughts.

"Is that your mommy?" Came a soft question.

Tony's head snapped towards her, she had a frame in her hands and Tony knew if she turned it he'd see him sitting next to his mother as she played the piano. He curbed the first instinct to wave away-deflect-ignore the question. He chose to hmm instead.

"She's really pretty,"

Tony could hear the smile in her voice, "Was." He hated to correct, he didn't look at her while saying it. He didn't need to see her face fall. "She was very pretty."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence.  Tony finally looked up, she was staring intently at the picture.

"My mom was very pretty too, " she finally muttered, ''What-What happened to your mom?"

"Car accident."

Alyssa looked up at him with sad eyes, Tony suddenly felt the need to say something funny. Anything but-but he didn't. But this felt too important, too important to mess up.

"A-are you sure?"

Tony stared at her for a while, "Yes. I'm sure. Hundred percent sure."

She caressed the frame, " I thought my mommy and dad died in a car crash too."  She put down the frame back on the desktop near the picture of him and his father. She rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"But they didn't?" He asked in a soft manner not wanting the kid to be any more upset.

"No," She whispered, " A man killed them, with a spell. A green spell."

A man with a green spell? Loki?

Tony saw red.

He tried to control his voice, "Loki killed your parents?"

Alyssa's head snapped up, she looked shocked. "No! Not Loki. Voldemort. Voldemort attacked us."

"Voldemort?" Tony tested the name on his lips. Wasn't that french for the flight from death or something?

"A bad wizard, I don't like him."

"Another mutant then? Is he gone?"

"Yeah. He's gone."  

Tony felt a wave of relief, at least the man was gone now. Alyssa was staring down at her shoes.

She was upset, that was clear to see.

"Oh, I have no idea how to handle emotional situations. This is so not something I do." Tony finally blurted out.

Alyssa sniffed, smiling slightly. "Usually, Mel just gives me a hug."

"A hug, " Tony's face twisted.

"Yes," Alyssa replied, her eyes getting back some of their usual happiness after the morse topic.

"I don't do 'hugs', short stack" Tony took a step back raising his hands in the universal sign of peace.

Alyssa jumped down from the desk. She walked a bit closer staring at him and- oh no the puppy eyes. It wasn't fair!

Tony rolled his eyes for show, "Agh fine."

He finally mumbled stepping forwards and bending down a little bit to encircle his arms around the kid barely touching her. He wasn't going to be all mushy like Thor. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

"Not like that silly!" She pulled his shirt to make him crouch down properly. She then hugged him properly, putting her head on his chest and letting out a sigh of content.

Tony stiffened a little before slowly relaxing and hugging her back, resting his hand on her back.

"It's not that bad, " He grudgingly agreed after a while. It did make him feel better as well. "But if you tell anyone I'll deny everything." He pulled back and playfully scowled at her.

"Yes, Mister Robot!"  Alyssa declared with a huge grin.

"For the last time, I-Am-not-a -robot" He emphasized each word. Alyssa shrugged.

"You know what, you wanna see an actual robot?", He leaned against the desk, he could hear the sound of a blender in the background.

Alyssa frowned," Actual robot?"

"Dum-E front an center!" The sound of the blender died out and Dum-E wheeled in beeping in a curious manner.

"W-What-Who's this?" Alyssa looked at him with wide eyes and stepped a little closer.

"This little lilo is Dum-E. Say Hi Dum-E"

Dum-E beeped a little them raised his arm and clenched and unclenched his claw. Alyssa squeal a little, "He's so cute!" She went a little closer, Tony could almost see the hearts in her eyes but it didn't bother him that much this time (Not that it did before).

"I don't see it." He shrugged pulling up a projection for the clean-up project Stark industry had started. He absently grabbed the apple and bit into it.

Dum-E and the kid were both busy staring at each other. Then Dum-e turned around and wheeled away. He came back after a minute with a rubber ball clutched in his claw. He dropped it in front of Alyssa.

Alyssa stared at the ball as if she had no idea what to do with it. What a weird kid.

"He wants to play catch, " Tony helpfully supplied, see he could be nice. Suck on that Thor. "You don't have to though, its one of his quirks."

"I wanna, can I please?" Alyssa pleaded.

"You wanna play with him?" Tony asked to confirm.

"Yep,"

"Only if you call me Tony instead now that you know what a real robot looks like."

Alyssa gasped, "I can't do that! " She then thought for a while, "But I can call you Mista Tony?"

Tony thought to mention how she didn't mind calling Thor by his name but ultimately just nodded.

Tony pointed a finger at Dum-E, "Dum-e Behave yourself or I'll send you down to R&D. " He then made a 'go' motion at Alyssa, "Go ahead, I'm just gonna-yeah." And he finally went back to work though he could hear the two mischief makers in the background. He just hoped Dum- didn't take out the fire extinguisher, it would be kinda funny though.

He looked up half an hour later when Dum-e insistently waved a blanket in front of his face. He was about to roll his eyes and put it off as one of his antics when Dum-e threw it in front of him and wheeled toward the other side of the lab.

The other side where on a very batty couch the kid was fast asleep,  cuddling the ball to her chest. Dum-e beeped at him.

"Fine. Just this one, the next time we're waking her up" he told Dum-e strictly and picked up the blanket. He made his way to the couch and promptly got back to his workspace. A few seconds later he glanced at the kid again sleeping on his couch like it was the most comfortable place in the world.

His face softened a little, "Silly kid." He chuckled quietly, grabbed the pack of blueberries before throwing a last look at the sofa and getting back to work.