#i writing a story about her the other day!!!!

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

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Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

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

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[skbeaumont]

"You Should Probably Leave" | Joel x Reader oneshot

Part 1 of Play it Again, a new series where each story is a oneshot, but all are shaped around country songs.

Song: You Should Probably Leave – Chris Stapleton Summary: He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late. And then when he gets home you help him out, too, even though you both know you should probably leave. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, porn without plot, prose but kind of poetry/lyrical, sexual tension, PIV, oral (m! receiving), sub!Joel, you're Sarah's babysitter, AU! No outbreak, set in the 90s. Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've taken the lyrics and worked them into the story, so I'd really recommend listening as you read. I've been thinking about writing this series for sooo long because country songs + Joel is a match made in heaven. If you've got any song recommendations, let me know!

It’s like a dance, a well-worn routine that you both know, practised and perfected after months of repetitions. You both know where it leads but you’ll still follow all the steps. That’s how it is.

You put Sarah to bed ages ago, spent the last few hours of babysitting on the sofa finishing up some college work, waiting for Joel to get back. His key in the door is a familiar click, the latch sticking the way it always does, his shoulder forcing it open.

You stay where you are. When he comes into the lounge his toolbelt is still strapped around his waist, the remnants of a long day’s work painted across his handsome face and strewn in dust that’s collected on the knees of his well-worn jeans and callused hands.

He pauses in the entrance, arm stretched up above him to rest on the mantle of the door, t-shirt pulling up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his belt. There’s a glass of wine half-drunk on the coffee table beside you and your feet are tucked up under you.

Neither of you speak for several long moments. You just watch each other, the tension too delicious to break.

“You should probably leave,” He says, but you make no effort to move and he stays where he is, too, dark eyes watching you.

His expression is open, taunting, and you already know what’s going to happen. You untuck your feet and shift them onto the worn carpet, standing to step towards him. His form takes up most of the doorway, his shoulders so broad that they almost touch both sides of the frame.

When you reach it he’s looming over you, blocking the exit off from you if you wanted to leave, but you don’t. You turn into him, press your nose to the slice of skin between his shoulder and neck and inhale deeply, smell the work of his day on him: the musk of sweat, the tang of iron and sharpness of wood shavings.

“I suppose it ain’t all that late,” he says, voice rumbling through his chest, “still time for you to finish your wine.”

You won’t finish the wine, but it’s all part of the well-worn routine the two of you have. He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late.

And then when he gets home you help him out, too. Let him relieve some of the tension that he carries in his shoulders, on his thick-set jaw. You press the first kiss here, letting the rough caress of his stubble eat into your own cheek. When you let your hands course through his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, he leans into it, eyebrows pitching up, something like a whimper falling from his lips.

There’s a devil on your shoulders, and its urging you each towards the same predetermined end.

“We shouldn’t.” He says, but he doesn’t move away.

“Just one kiss?” You ask, feeling him relax into your touch, the bulk of him slipping down the doorframe, bringing his mouth within reach of yours.

“Alright,” He rasps back, his voice pitching with need, and you claim the last syllable with your mouth, press your lips against his, pull a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Say you want me to stay,” You tell him, and he does, whispers it into your mouth, chases your tongue with his.

When he looks at you his gaze so intense it’s almost intimidating, and you recognise the look in his eyes, the need that’s behind the blown-out pupils and hazy expression.

The slow retreat to his bedroom is well-practised, the carpet belying a well-trodden route you both know. He lets you walk him backwards up the stairs, sighs when you push him against the closed door to fit your mouths together again.

Inside, his bed is unmade and you press him into it, pin his hands above his head and lick a thick strip up his neck, following the tendons to the underside of his jaw.

His moans are the chorus of this well-rehearsed dance. They spur you on as you undress him, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the thick trunks of his thighs, the impressive bulge of his cock in his briefs, already half-hard.

He twitches in your hand when you draw him out and you shift down the bed to take him into your mouth, the head of him heavy and salty on your tongue. His cock swells, the vein that spans the underside pulsing against your palm.

It’s intoxicating and dizzying and familiar, the recognisable ache in your jaw as you take him into the back of your throat, fist gripping the part of him that won’t fit.

“So good to me, darlin’” He groans, running shaking fingers through your hair, trying to sit up against the headboard.

“Relax,” you tell him, pushing him back down to lie against the rumpled duvet, “I know what you need.”

You know him and he knows you, and you both know how this goes. You pull back, work your dress up over your head and pull down your panties, which are ruined with your slick, so damp they catch on your thighs as you peel them off. Joel’s eyes widen as he watches; he can never believe you want this – want him – as much as you do.

When you sink down on his length – the fat head of his cock catching at your entrance, making the stretch delicious and white-hot – he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

You run a finger along his eyebrows, coax him to open them and he does, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as you rise up and drag your cunt back down onto him again.

“I wanna do the right thing, baby,” he tells you, as though this – the pinching heat of him between your thighs, the tremble of his hands as he clutches at the flesh of your ass – isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

But you know he hates himself for it, hates that he’s a good decade older than you, that you’re Sarah’s babysitter, that this – this twisted arrangement you have where you stay when he gets back and then end up in his bed – is the only thing that gets him through those long works days sometimes.

“I know,” you say, “but it’s getting kind of hard to resist, isn’t it?”

“You should leave,” he says, thrusting up into you, “we should – Jesus, baby, just like that – we should stop.”

You arch up off the bed, tilting your hips so that he can drive his cock deeper, bottoming out and groaning brokenly into your ear. It’s filthy. Depraved, probably: The slap of his hips as he cants them up into yours, the breathy moans that tumble from your mouth, Joel’s desperate, needy curses.

It’s easy to make him come like this: Three steady, deliberate rolls of your hips and he’s a quivering mess beneath you, his hands fisting in the sheets as he spurts hot and wet inside you.

After, you tell him you should probably leave. He makes you come with his fingers first, tells you to finish your wine, that it still ain’t that late.

And when the sun’s on your skin at 6am, he’s there watching you sleep, hoping you’ll say you’ll stay, even though you should probably leave.

[swanlakebaby]

— dressing room quickie | pjm

prompt: hooking up in the dressing room.

⸝⸝ pairing: richbf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, bf jimin, bf material, public sex, bj, creampie, swallowing, kissing, sub gf, dom jimin, quickie

⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k

⸝⸝ note: i didn't mean to be gone for almost a WEEK...i have too many story ideas planned out and couldn't figure out what to start with and ended up not writing at all. i'm trying to post stories every 2-3 days but clearly i'm inconsistent with that ;(

-- ALSO i've been thinking about wanting to start a series of some sort so if you have ideas please send them in the requests. i'll give credit to whoever i choose, dw! requests for other story prompts are open too. thanks for reading!

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

-

''which one?'' you ask , holding up two skirts in front of of your legs. jimin looks down and thinks for a moment. ''im not sure. you can get both.''

you glance at him. ''i know it's supposed to be a shopping spree but i don't want to get things i don't like just because i can.'' you look back in forth between the two skirts , feeling conflicted. ''i told you i'm paying , it doesn't matter. if it doesn't work out you can return it.''

''i want to be sure.'' you say softly. ''what color suits me? pink or white?'' you look up at him. ''you look good in anything.'' jimin wraps his arms around you. ''that's not a real answer. just help me please.'' jimin smiles and grabs your hand , walking to the back of the store. there , an employee stands , looking down at a table. she looks up at the couple as they approach her.

''hello , looking to try something on?'' she asks. you nod and lift up the two skirts. ''great , come with me.'' she walks down the hallway full of dressing rooms until she finds a vacant room. ''thank you.'' you say with a smile as you walk in. jimin shuts the door behind him as he walks in after you.

''um , excuse you.'' you say , furrowing your eyebrow at him. ''i've seen you naked before , go ahead.'' he sits down on the small bench and relaxes his muscles. ''what a pervert.'' you giggle as jimin reaches forward and playfully smacks your thigh.

you put down the skirts and begin to slip off your shoes and jeans. you grab the white skirt and begin sliding them on. ''what do you think?'' you do a little spin as you show off the skirt. ''mmm.'' jimin mumbles. ''turn again.''

you spin again , this time stepping closer to jimin. ''it looks great. put the other one on.'' he says. you do so, taking off the white skirt and putting it back on its hanger before grabbing the pink one. you put it on , this time standing in front of the mirror. ''i think this one is better.'' you say , analyzing yourself in the mirror. jimin slowly rises and stands behind you.

the warmth of his body heat made you nervous. you always suddenly felt self cautious anytime he was too close to you. ''so?'' you mumble anxiously. jimin places his hands on your sides , looking down at your neck. ''get it.'' he whispers. goosebumps trail down your back as he says this , almost making you shiver.

''weren't there others?'' you ask him. ''i think so. i'll be back.'' jimin steps back and exits the dressing room , heading back into the main part of the store. you take off the skirt and sit on the bench as you wait for jimin to get back.

a few minutes go by and you begin peeking your head out of the dressing room. you see jimin walking back towards you with four different skirts. ''really?'' you say sarcastically as jimin plops the skirts down onto the bench. he sits down beside them and hands you the first one. you take it and begin sliding them on. ''i don't like it.'' you say , tilting your head to the side in the mirror. ''i love florals but the fabric feels too harsh.''

jimin rubs his finger tips onto the fabric. ''i thought so too. next one.'' he grabs the next skirt and hands it to you. ''it's very summerish.'' you say , swinging side to side as the dress carelessly sways with your movements. ''i like it. it would be cute for a picnic date , don't you think?'' you smile down at him as you consider the idea. ''i think so. it looks pretty on you.''

time continues to go by as you try on these skirts. ''are we almost near the end?'' you say , growing impatient. ''yes hold on , here's the last one.'' jimin holds the skirt. you hold out your hand and wait for him to give it to you , but he doesn't. ''come here.'' he says. you step forward. jimin bends over a bit , holding the skirt open for your legs to go through. you hold onto his shoulders and slowly lift your legs one by one. jimin pulls the skirt up over you. ''i love it.'' he says.

''of course you do. it's short as hell.''

jimin giggles , rubbing your legs. ''it suits you.'' he says. ''i'm not so sure.'' you say in response. ''it's not like you have to wear it out anywhere.'' jimin whispers. ''then why would i get it?'' you cross your arms and shake your head , not quite understanding his logic. ''because i can just fuck you in it.'' jimin tugs at the skirt , looking for the price tag. ''really? be serious!'' you softly push him. ''i'm so serious.'' he stands up and looks down at you. you feel the energy in the room shift as jimin hovers above you. ''well-'' you begin feeling nervous all over again. you play with the ends of the skirt as you think of a response.

jimin smirks , knowing the affect he had on you was too much to hide. he holds your waist , running his hands over the soft velvet fabric of the skirt slowly. he bends his neck downward and gives you a small kiss. ''let's test it out.'' he says. your eyes go wide a tiny bit as the words slip out of his mouth. ''here?'' you whisper , listening to the sounds of others in their own dressing rooms as they shopped normally.

''i promise to be quiet if you will.'' jimin pulls you closer , beginning to gently rub your butt. the idea sounded tempting but you didn't wanna risk getting caught over jimin's horny shenanigans. ''i don't know..'' you say. ''let me change your mind then.'' jimin whispers as he steps back from you. he turns you around and pushes himself up against your back. you feel his bulge poke at you and swallow hard as you get increasingly more nervous to do what you're about to do.

jimin looks down as lifts up the skirt over your hips , grabbing onto your panties and roughly sliding them down. he pushes you forward against the wall. you hold onto it and stand still as jimin continues undressing you. he wraps his arms around your torso and begins to slowly unbutton your shirt. he looks into the mirror as he watches himself play with your breasts in a teasing manner.

he suddenly stops , freezing at the sound of people walking past the dressing room. once he feels the coast is clear he continues once again. he lowers his lips onto your shoulders , giving them soft kisses as he tightly clings onto the sides of your body. he moves slowly as he lets go and begins to unbutton his jeans. you turn your head and stare as he pulls out his cock.

still limp , you reach back and start rubbing on it , trying to get him hard as quickly as possible. you bring your hand to your mouth and spit , before reaching back and rubbing it over his cock. he softly groans as he becomes hard. you continue this motion for a few moments until eventually jimin becomes impatient and grabs onto your hair , pushing you forward against the wall and lifting your leg onto the dressing room bench.

you felt exposed as jimin bends down. he ducks under your thighs , lifting the one that rested on the bench. he puts his face forward , engulfing you. you shake as the feeling of his wet tongue touches the sensitive parts of your vagina. you cover your mouth , trying your best to not make noises. he continues eating you out , making soft groaning noises as he does so.

after only a few seconds of this , jimin stands back up. he wipes his mouth and slaps his dick against your butt. you whine , feeling super aroused and impatient now. you put your leg down and grab onto one side of jimin's pants. he holds his cock in one hand and uses the other to cling onto your wrist.

he slides into you , softly groaning. you turn to look at him. ''don't make noise.'' you whisper in a paranoid tone. he chuckles , not taking you seriously. he softly strokes in and out of you , quickly making you wet. he grips onto the sides of your hips and starts to go at a faster pace. soft wet sounds can be heard as jimin slams himself into you.

you push against his chest , making him stop. he slides out of you and sits on the bench. ''you're making too much noises.'' you say , sneaking a peek from under the door. ''i'm not.'' he whispers , running his hands through his hair and sitting up straight , lifting his cock. you turn your back facing him and slowly slide down on it. you sit still for a minute , adjusting to the feeling of his inches deep inside of you.

then , you begin to grind on him. jimin lays his head back onto the wall and closes his eyes with pleasure. ''you feel so good...'' he mumbles out. you smirk and continue grinding on him , quickly going faster. you place your hands on his knees and fuck yourself onto his cock , stiff inside of you. jimin grabs onto your hair and pulls it back as you bounce on him in a fast motion. he wraps it around his fist and tugs on it slightly , not pulling with full force.

the skirt slips over your butt as you continue riding him. jimin lets go of your hair and lifts up the fabric , staring down and watching as you throw yourself onto his cock.

you feel your knees weaken and let go of jimins knees. you bend forward , ready to cum. your pants become heavier and moan like as you finish onto him. at the same time , jimin stands and begins pounding you like crazy. you press up against the dressing room door. strings of your cum spilling out of you and sticking to your bodies. jimin lowly grunts , slamming into you as he creampies you. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he catches his breath.

you feel your insides becoming sticky and wet as you're now filled up with his cum. he slowly pulls out , watching as you stay bent over , allowing his cum to slowly slip out of you. you then fully stand , the fabric once again covering your butt. jimin grabs onto your neck and kisses it harshly , his eyes hazy from the satisfaction of cumming inside of you.

jimin pulls his pants back up and stuffs his cock back into his boxers. he adjusts his hair and looks in the mirror. his cheeks were a faint red color. he pressed down on them with his fingers , wanting it to go away.

he grabs onto the skirts you didn't want and grabs the handle of the dressing room door. you bend down quickly and grab onto his pants. you didn't feel finished just yet and still wanted to taste him. he notices this and smirks. ''we shouldn't risk it again.'' he says. ''i'm sure some people heard.''

you wait as he opens the door and leaves to return the clothing items to the employee. you stay down as you wait for him to come back. when he does , he giggles at you still being on your knees. you tug on his pants and pull them down , his still hard cock springing out. it was still wet with your cum , only turning you on even more.

jimin stands at the doorway , looking to both sides of the hallway. when he confirms that nobody is around , you shove his cock into your mouth. he skips a breath , placing a hand on your head. you suck him clean , licking off all of the cum on his dick. you were certain people could hear , but the paranoia of being caught quickly went as it came. jimin grabs onto your hair , starting to fuck your mouth. you look up at him with watery eyes as you let him.

he looks back down at you , his eyes half lidded. he suddenly stuffs his cock into your mouth , his body tensing up. you feel warm strings of cum trail down your throat as you swallow every last drop. jimin curses under his breath before making you stand back up , not wanting to continue any longer , knowing the chances of being caught were getting higher. ''put your clothes on.'' he whispers tiredly. you do so, taking off the skirt and putting your jeans and shoes back on.

you fix your hair up and grab your purse to re-apply your lipstick. he grabs the skirts and holds onto your hand as you exit the dressing room to go check out.

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 2

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too. MDNI WITH THIS CHAPTER.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a hint of angst, smut (gojo fantasizes about fucking the reader, body worshipping, marking, fingrering, fem receiving! oral, taking reader’s virginity in mating press), mentions/anxieties of marriage consummation, themes of arranged/forced marriage/familial expectations, cursing, themes of mentally abused/anxious reader, male masturbation

Author's Note: Chapter 2 woo woo! Had a lot of fun writing this one. Please keep in mind that there is smut in the chapter so minors dni! I will add that reader's father in this series, along with other family members, are not canon and are created for the purpose of the story, as well as the beliefs/dramatization of the Kamo clan. If you have yet to read the prologue or chapter one, please do so!

Word Count: 7.3k

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Satoru folded his arms as he stood before your father, waiting for him to say something. Instead, the man held Satoru's gaze while sitting on the foyer's couch, not breaking it even when one of the household staff set a cup of steaming tea on the table before them and left.

Arao Kamo was a gruff man, and stupidly proud. His clan was the largest of the three major jujustu clans. Where Satoru and now you were the only Gojo members, the Kamos had dozens interwoven into their bloodline, and Arao oversaw them all with an iron fist. Just as Yaga had said, this was a family rooted in deep tradition, and Arao upheld it just as the other Kamos had done for centuries. Though he was past his prime as a sorcerer, wrinkles dotting his once handsome face just like the gray in his hair, he was widely respected across the jujustu community.

"Where is my daughter?" Your father asked lowly, clearly tired of waiting. Waiting for you, Satoru realized.

"She's sleeping. She had a pretty bad fever this week, so I'm making her prioritize her rest. I was just about to make her breakfast when you arrived, actually," Satoru replied with equal calm, cocking his head and giving him a smirk. "Though, I'm assuming you're not here for breakfast."

"I came to see (Y/N)," your father grumbled, now taking the tea into his hands. "I messaged her this morning notifying her I would be here, but it seems she didn't see it. That girl can be so insolent sometimes..."

That set Satoru off a bit. No wonder you were always so focused on pleasing him if you had to cater to this prick. "Well, forgive me, sir, but like I said, she's asleep, so she wouldn't have been able to read your texts. Maybe next time give her a further notice. And, contrary to your definitely valued opinion, I find your daughter quite charming and very polite. But hey, what do I know, she's only been living with me for a month and a half," Satoru shrugged, firing at him with his usual attitude. He was peeved to even refer to this man as his father-in-law, so he avoided it as much as he could.

Satoru almost snickered when he saw a vein fire off in the Kamo leader's head as he gripped the ceramic cup so hard it almost cracked. What was even more fun was knowing that the man couldn't even tell Satoru to watch his tone. They were equal in position, but Satoru greatly outweighed him in power, even if your father was a retired special-grade.

Your father only released a breath, trying to calm himself before saying, "Right. Well then, since she's preoccupied, I'm sure you wouldn't mind telling me that you both have consummated your marriage?"

Satoru tried and failed to hide the disgust on his face. Why would he need to know that? You being his daughter or no, he had no right to know what went on in your marital bed. Satoru decided in that moment that he wanted your father out of this house before he made him leave. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Don't know why that's any of your business, but of course we have," Satoru lied, though the smug grin on his face made it look like he was telling the truth.

"Well then, I congratulate you both," your father said, now standing. "I expect good news in the coming weeks. I suppose I'll be taking my leave now."

"Oh, please do," Satoru replied wittily, moving a little too quickly to open the front door for him. "I need to get back to breakfast before my poor dear wife starves."

Arao gave Satoru a sneer before walking out the door. "Oh, and the lawn care guy should be outside if you need help getting down the stairs!" Satoru shouted as he watch the man leave, closing the door and laughing to himself.

He stood at the door for a moment, sighing and running a hand through his hair, all while trying to ponder the reason why your father felt the need to show up in the first place. Suddenly, Satoru felt a little guilty for not trying to move up the marriage date himself, now getting a more vivid image of what you probably had to deal with.

Speaking of you, he needed to get back to cooking. He turned to walk back up the stairs, but you were already standing at the top, looking down at him. He smiled at the sight of you, your usual silk robe covering your nightgown as you folded your hands in front of you. It seemed like you had just washed up, too. Satoru jogged up the steps to greet you.

"Satoru-" you started, a small pout on your face.

"Don't worry, (Y/N), I took care of it," Satoru interrupted, putting his hands on your shoulders to usher you back to the kitchen. "By the way, your father is a lovely individual."

"I know it was him you were talking to. I just saw his texts and rushed down to greet him, but you got there before me," you explained. "I was listening to your conversation, but I should have showed my face. Forgive me?"

"That's perfectly okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. You don't have to talk to him if you don't want to," Satoru reconciled. "To be honest, I was already ticked that he just invited himself over."

"Well, he is my father. He should be able to see me when he wants to," you replied. Satoru looked at you and furrowed his brow as the two of you walked through the doors and towards the kitchen.

"(Y/N), that shouldn't mean anything. You're his daughter, sure, but you're also an adult and someone that's capable of making their own decisions, so you have a right to refuse him, especially in the state that you're in. Not to mention, you should be in bed," Satoru argued. Did you really stop resting to go downstairs and see him? How much of a hold did this man still have on you?

"But as your wife and the matron of the house, I should be the first to greet guests-"

Satoru only snickered and shook his head. "(Y/N), just because that was something your father taught you doesn't mean you have to do that. You realize how ridiculous that statement sounds?"

He suddenly regretted his words when you gave him a worried look. "But, that's my responsibility-"

“But it doesn’t have to be!” Satoru interjected before you could say anymore. He sighed before continuing. “Look, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. What I mean is that… you’re recovering from an illness, and we both know you need rest. So, since something like this came up and because I’m the one taking care of you, I went to go answer the door because you’re still in bed. I was happy to do it, (Y/N)…”

After a few seconds, he added, “I understand what you think, and please don’t take this like I’m trying mansplain something to you or what not… but the whole husband-wife relationship dynamic that I think you have in mind… it’s not… healthy, so to speak. At least, I don’t think it is. You don't always have to break yourself down trying to handle so many things. The same goes for me too. So we help each other, right? You don’t even have to think of it in a married way either. Just see it like I’m doing you a favor, yeah?”

"Still... he won't be happy with me," you murmured as the two of you walked the rest of the way to the kitchen in silence. The ingredients still sat on the counter, the batter ready but unused. Satoru decided to get started on that right away while you watched from the entryway.

"Satoru?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you lie...?" The stove reached a crescendo of sizzles as Satoru poured the batter onto the pan, his back turned to you.

"Because he has no right knowing about private stuff like that," he replied, his shoulders moving slightly under his t-shirt as he fiddled the batter with the spatula. "And because I knew he would be furious with you. I knew he would find a way to blame it on you... as if it was your fault that I decided not to force myself on you because you were obviously nervous and scared and we had practically just met. I would never do something like that unless you wanted me to."

"But I do."

"Do you? Or do you want to because you know it's what your family expects of you?"

A beat. "I don't know."

Satoru moved the done pancakes onto a paper plate and poured more batter on the pan. "(Y/N), what do you want us to be?"

"You're my husband-"

"No, just... putting all that aside for a minute. Disregard what I want, what your family wants, what jujustu society wants... what do you want us to be, as two human beings?"

You didn't answer his question. In fact, you didn't say anything until he had used up all of the batter and made a semi-okay stack of blueberry pancakes for the both of you. Maybe you have never been asked something like this before. After all, your whole life you were told to be dedicated to your father and your family name, and then eventually to him. Your opinions thus didn't ever matter in any situation, so no one probably bothered asking. Did you even know then what it was like to want something? To want to have a goal or a sense of identity that was truly your own?

It wasn't until he opened the silverware drawer to grab forks that you spoke up.

"A friend. I want us to be friends."

Satoru smiled, shutting the drawer before handing you your plate. "You got it, pretty girl."

___________________________________________________________

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Satoru asked, observing you as he sat backwards on one of the many chairs of the library.

"Read," you replied, not even looking up from the book in front of you.

"Yeah. I gathered," Satoru grumbled. Whatever you were reading, you seemed really immersed, pages in your face and curled up all nice and comfy on the couch. He reached forward, barely able to put the tip of his finger on the top of the cover to pull it down a little and look at you. "What else?"

"Have we not had this discussion before?" You moved the book back up, a placid expression on your face.

"Yeah, but there's a difference between hobbies and things you do for fun..."

"Okay then. I do my hobbies for fun."

Satoru sighed. "So you're telling me you've never like... gone to the movies? An amusement park? Maybe a club or something?"

He barely saw you shake your head as you said, "Aside from going to see a movie once or twice, I've never done any of those. There are more ways to spend my time that do not involve spending money or wearing indecent clothing around indecent people."

Satoru chuckled at your response. You did seem like the type of person to frown upon things like parties and alcohol. "Hmph. Now that has me thinking... what is the most rebellious thing you've ever done as a teenager?"

You set your book down at his question, gently marking the page as you hummed. "I was able to procure a romance novel when I was 16..." you murmured.

Satoru only raised an eyebrow, shifting in his seat. "And? What did you do with it?"

"I read it of course," you replied matter-of-factly.

"That's... it? What, was it like hardcore porn or something?"

"Goodness no! It was... just a romance novel..." You picked up your book again, clearly flustered.

Satoru snickered, moving a chair around to sit on it normally to look at you as you read. "Well then, what was so bad about it?"

"Well, the fact that it was a romance novel," you shrugged.

That made Satoru pause for a moment, considering what your words were implying. "So... you weren't allowed to read romance novels? That seems kinda harsh... Is that why you read so much non-fiction type stuff?"

"To begin, I do read fiction, just not a lot of fiction prose. And secondly, yes, I was not allowed to," you explained. "My father believed reading stories of that nature would give me fanciful ideas to go out and try to experience romance and tamper my chastity before my marriage."

That stunned Satoru to silence for a moment. "Wow. Not gonna lie, your dad's a dick."

Your brow furrowed as you looked at him from over your book. "Satoru, that's rude."

"What? He's not in the room with us. And besides, it's not like you were shooting heroin up your arm and getting pregnant at 16 because you read a romance book," he argued, crossing his arms over his jacket. "What was it even about anyway?"

You sighed, setting down your book again. "I don't really remember. Something like... a girl running away from her kingdom to escape marriage, and she somehow ends up falling for the man she was supposed to marry anyway." You leaned back against the couch, setting your book on the table nearby. "I never read it again. I was too afraid someone would find it and tell my father."

"What was the book called?"

"I don't... I don't remember," you muttered, looking down in your lap.

"Did you like it?"

You only shook my head with a smile. "You ask a lot of questions, Satoru."

He only smirked and raised his arms up in a 'guilty as charged' motion. "Well, forgive me for just trying to know more about something that you obviously enjoyed. But seriously? Your dad wouldn't let you read something like that?"

"N-no..." Your eyes wandered before landing on the clock on the other side of the room, standing when you realized what time it was. "I should start on lunch-"

"Ah, ah, ah," Satoru ticked, standing up to stop you. "We're going out for lunch."

"We are?" you asked, looking up at him confused. "Did I forget?"

"Nope, I just decided," Satoru chirped, now putting a hand on the small of your back as he led you out of the library. "We're gonna go to lunch, and then we're going shopping."

"But we have food here... and what do we need to shop for?" you inquired, a puzzled look on your face. "I had just run to the market this past weekend..."

"Well, dontcha think it's kinda odd that we're married yet we haven't really gone out to do something fun together? I think it'll be nice. And you can't shop for books on an empty stomach," he replied, patting his own stomach for emphasis. "You can get any romance book you desire, all on me. It doesn't even have to be a romance book, either! I can tell you've been reading those same poetry collections over and over so you must want some new ones..."

Your silence was a clear indicator of your hesitation, making Satoru look at you for a moment. You were biting the inside of your cheek, eyes trained down, second guessing. "Hey, if you don't want to, we won't go," he said, voice softening. "We can make lunch here and find something else to do later, if that's what you'd rather do..."

"I... I'm just..." you started.

"What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

You looked sheepishly off to the side, now stopping in the center of the private living room in both you and Satoru's shared part of the estate. "It's just... my father visited here less than a week ago trying to see me, and I didn't even greet him. And now... now what you're proposing is... something he most definitely wouldn't...uhm..."

Admittedly, the first thing Satoru felt was frustration. How much of your life did your father dictate before he married you? Too much, Satoru knew now. Too much to the point where you're thinking of his approval long after you were grown and married. Too much to the point where your father could have demanded an answer to the same question he asked Satoru a few days ago, and you would've answered him truthfully despite the fact that you knew you would suffer. What more could this man want from you besides your total devotion?

However, that frustration melted to empathy and heartache when looking at your face. Now, because of your consideration of rejecting his offer, you looked guilty. He felt the urge to reach out and hug you; to hold your head to his chest and tell you it was okay, and that he understood; to let you know that he didn't take any offense to what your concerns were or what you were feeling. After all...

He can't blame you for knowing any different.

"(Y/N), I understand that you may feel that way but... I'll tell you the same thing that I told you before: I'm not your father. I don't plan on being like him, either. You can do whatever you want when you're here. So, if you want to stay here and not go get anything, that's fine. But, I want you to know that I would be very happy to take you to go get a few books and some food, and I think you'll be too. It's your decision."

You swallowed, picking at the skin of your fingers, likely a nervous habit. Your eyes darted to a few different spots: the carpet, his socks, the wooden wall, the window. You tried to calm your breaths, your chest rising and falling, rising and falling...

"Maybe... maybe one new thing on my bookshelf... wouldn't hurt?"

___________________________________________________________

One new book turned into two, two into three, and three into ten. Of course, Satoru got a few for himself too. He wasn't a big reader, but he figured he'd try a few to keep him occupied when traveling.

Traveling was part of the reason he took you out today. You both already knew that he had been assigned an upcoming mission for a while now, one that was going to keep him away for about a week. He wanted to do something for you before he left, and he couldn't have thought of anything more perfect.

After your shopping, the two of you went to a little café tucked between the stores of a nearby shopping center. You both talked for roughly two hours, enjoying baked sandwiches and coffee and muffins. It was the first time he had ever seen you talk so openly with him, like he was having a conversation with any of his other friends or colleagues. But it was so... different at the same time? You had this grace to the way you spoke, which he had already noticed, but what was new was your cute mannerisms: the way your eyes looked upward when you tried to think of something, or the way you smiled nervously when you suddenly forgot what the two of you had been talking about...

And if that wasn't icing on the cake, there was what he was now referring to in his head as The Miracle. A little blonde girl, no more than five, had been running around the café with her other sister, friend, whoever, for most of the time the two of you had been there. However, amidst trying to run away from the other girl she was playing with, the little blonde had run into the chair you were sitting in, causing her to fall over. Satoru choked on a laugh while you just bent over in your seat to help the girl up.

However, when you helped the girl to her feet, a hand on her little wrist, the kid just stared at you, starstruck. When you asked if she was alright, the girl only answered with a dazed, You look like a princess.

And what he witnessed was the best part of his day. You laughed. Loudly. Eyes crinkled as your cheeks expanded from a wide smile. You thanked the little girl, told her she looked like one too, before the kid ran back over to her parents.

He had laughed too, of course. Usually kids give him weird stares, but seeing it happen to someone else was funny for a change. Satoru couldn't have agreed more with the kid, though. You did look like a princess, even if you were wearing just a typical floral dress, and he had the fight the urge to rub it in the kid's face. She's my princess that I get to see everyday because she's my wife, so eat it.

That laugh was a broken record in his head the entire drive home, replaying over and over. It was so... unlike you, in a sense. You were so timid, yet your laugh had come out loud and roaring up from the pit of your stomach like a long awaited eruption. What he wouldn't give to hear that again...

And that's what led him to your bedroom. The two of you just got back 30 minutes ago and he was craving your presence again already. He stood in your already open doorway, leaning against it with his sunglasses slung low on his nose as he watched you put your new books on your bookshelf. You even rearranged some of the ones already on there to make a different section for your three new romance novels.

You seemed content, fulfilled. Satoru considered that a mission accomplished.

He spoke up when you were done. "Tired of me yet, or do you want to find something else to do?"

You turned to face him from where you were sitting on the floor before standing and straightening out the skirt of your dress. There was something... extremely attractive about your modesty, your adorable and considerate manners. He knew they must have been drilled into you since childhood, but the way you did it- the little bounce when you stood, the slight shift of your weight from one foot to another, your wide eyes looking at him- that was all you. He loved it.

"Uhm... if you don't mind me asking, Satoru..." you began, one of your hands picking at your fingers- a nervous habit, he now knew. "Why did we go out today... or why did you take me out? I don't think I did anything to... necessarily deserve this-"

"Let me stop you right there," he interrupted, a small chuckle as he took his glasses off and placed them on the collar of his button-up shirt. "You don't need to do anything to deserve something like this. I just wanted to hang out, have fun, take your mind off of things that might be worrying you. After all, you're the one that said you wanted to be friends, am I right?"

"Yes, but... I didn't know that that would entail shopping sprees..." you replied, a mix of bashfulness and thankfulness crossing your features.

"Well, it does when you're friends with me. And don't forget, my money's all yours anyway, so really then you don't even need me to take you out to splurge. If you end up hating me enough, you could buy your own house on the other side of the world and never see my face again," he shrugged, smirking a little.

That smirk grew when your face changed from bashful to worried. "Why would I do that? And... and how do I have access to any of that?" you exclaimed.

Satoru stepped off the doorway, making his way over to you. "Well, you're legally my wife, so my money is also yours. And as for hating me, while I will do everything in my power from getting you to do so, I know I can be a lot for people to try and handle. So if you end up disliking me, that's totally understandable."

You only looked up at him anxiously. "I think it would be rather crude of me to dislike you after everything you've done for me..."

"I guess you're right, but you're still allowed to from time to time. I'd rather you express yourself than cover it up," Satoru replied with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest. "So then, based off of that logic, how do you feel about your father?"

You opened your mouth, but then shut it, looking away. "I can understand why you feel loyalty to him and your family, but from what I can gather, he treated you terribly. And while I don't clearly know everything, I can tell. Really, I can. Were you happy to let him... indoctrinate you like that?" he asked, eyes soothing into something more comforting.

"I..." you started, as if trying to find the words. Then your breaths rose and fell slightly faster, your bottom lip began quivering. Satoru's eyebrows raised as he took note of what was going to happen-

His arms shot forward to steady you as your body seemed to cave in a little, a small no cracking from your throat before the tears started. His heart broke to pieces.

"Hey, hey, hey... shh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you something like that without warning you..." he whispered, ushering you to sit on the bed while he stood in front of you. "Hey, talk to me. You can talk to me..." Satoru raised his hands, one placing itself on your shoulder, the other wiping the tears that trickled down your face.

Through your sobs and shaky breaths you were able to get out, "Scared... I was always... so scared and frightened by... by the thought of what... w-what he would do... if... if I... but I had no choice-"

"Yeah... and you shouldn't have to feel that way around your own father. What he was teaching you, and how he treated you, was wrong," he consoled, brushing more tears and stray strands of hair away from your face. Snot began to drip from your nose. "Shit, uh... here."

You grimaced as he held up his forearm for you to blow into his sleeve. You just pouted and shook your head.

Satoru chuckled lowly. "C'mon, it's fine. I can take it off and wash it later. Unless, you want me to take it off now?" he added with a wink and wiggled eyebrows shot in your direction.

That only caused your face to redden a little, giving him a sniffle as you moved you head forward and used his shirt as a tissue. "Don't be afraid to blow. I got another sleeve too," he quipped, smiling weakly when you eventually did as he adjusted more of your hair behind your ear.

"(Y/N)..." Satoru moved to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to make you tell me everything about yourself. What you want to share is up to you. But, I'll promise that you'll never have to be afraid of me... okay?"

You nodded once, your breaths staggering as you forced yourself to get calm.

"And... can you look at me please?" he whispered, gently cupping one side of your face to turn your attention to him. "You can come to me for anything. Even when I'm not here, you have my number."

You only sighed. "I'm sorry..."

"Sorry? For what?" Satoru retracted his hand from your face.

"For... for that. For feeling like you... for having to... coddle me like this," you muttered. "It's... deeply unfair to you..."

"It's really not..." he tittered. For a moment, he considered telling you just how much he had been wanting, waiting for a moment like this so he could show how much he cared for you. He wanted to tell you that he would rip his whole shirt to scraps for you to blow your nose in to prove it. "Emotions... aren't meant to be something transactional between people. Trust me, I know. If you want me to go to you for something, I gladly will, but right now it's not about me..."

"Are you sure?" you voice cracked, brows furrowing.

"Sure that's it not about me? Well, perhaps not everything can be. But I guess it's okay to give away my spotlight once in a while," he sighed with his usual sarcasm, causing you to giggle a little.

"I meant... are you sure that... that you'd be okay if I... talked to you about... anything?" you questioned again, trying to find your words.

"Absolutely, 's what I'm here for," Satoru assured. "And each time I'll remind you that you're a wonderful, talented, kind, and good-looking individual," he added, giving a little boop on the tip of your nose before continuing with a flare in his voice. "And that-" that I love you "-that, well, I think everything is going to turn out just fine. After all, I'm the strongest sorcerer alive. I can handle anything you throw at me."

You smiled softly, looking down in your lap, your eyes caught between melancholy and meditative. "I suppose you're right about that..."

"Oh, I know, pretty girl. A little therapy session is nothing compared to a special grade curse," he sniggered. "But that doesn't mean I take it more lightly."

You only hummed in response. Satoru just continued to look at you as you stared forward into the carpet, probably thinking about something to say. Even after you had just finished crying, you looked so lovely. Hell, he could never catch you at a time when you weren't that. Or maybe he just saw you that way no matter what.

When you looked back to him, he prepared himself to listen. Instead, all you said was, "Have you packed a bag for your mission?"

He just laughed. "Yeah, I should probably get on that..."

"I'll... probably just get ready for bed early, then," you stammered. "And... uhm..." You turned to him, breathing in as you brought an arm close to his side, making a motion as if you were going to wrap it around him, before ultimately deciding to rest it on his elbow. "Thank you..."

Satoru gave you a knowing smile. He could tell what you were about to do, but chose to not say anything about it. What was important was that he at least noticed. "Anytime..." With that, he opted to leave you alone while he returned to his room.

He could see you were trying. He knew you were, and he knew it was hard. Your whole life, you had been terrified of messing anything up. Hearing you say that set off something deep in him.

As he packed, he realized he had been stupid, so idiotically fucking stupid. He had the power this whole time, for years, to take you to be with him earlier, yet he never acted on it. And those years that he had figured it was best to keep his distance from out of fear of what you would think of him were years you had spent in literal fear of your father and family. Even if he technically would have had to strike an agreement with your father for an earlier marriage date and there was no guarantee that he would agree to it, he could have at least tried.

Someday, Satoru knew he would have to apologize for it.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru got up to leave at 4:00am for his morning flight to Osaka. Once his bags were securely in the trunk, he got in the backseat as his driver took off.

He immediately noticed the container already in the middle seat, a sticky-note on it with your perfect cursive written in blue pen:

Couldn't fall asleep last night, so I made these for you.

- (Y/N)

Satoru grinned, lifting off the cover to be greeted by the smell of fresh, mouthwatering butter cookies. As expected, they tasted just as good too.

He took out his phone, taking a quick selfie with one of the cookies in his mouth, and sending it you with his thanks.

For good measure, he also sent you Suguru's number, saying that if your father came back or if you needed anything that he couldn't get there right away for, you could call Suguru and he would be able to stop over. You texted him back in the middle of his flight, glad that he liked the cookies and letting him know you would call Suguru if the need arises.

A few hours later, you sent him a picture of yourself smiling in the garden, hand marking a page in one of your new romance novels as you sat on your usual bench between the cherry trees.

Satoru made it his lockscreen in a heartbeat.

___________________________________________________________

This mission was by far the hardest he had ever had, and not because of the curses themselves.

Normally, Satoru would repeat the same thing throughout a mission week: wake up, go investigate the site of a supposed curse, find it easily, beat it with no sweat, spend the rest of his day sightseeing and buying food to splurge on back at his hotel suite, and then pass out.

However, this was the first mission he had ever spent away from you, which made the seven days ahead feel like a year. As much as he wanted to to finish all the curses off and go home, he knew that he had to take it easy and let his cursed energy replenish each day for a possible worst case scenario. Not to mention, the longer he was out, the more he was likely to get paid if it made it seem like he was actually trying.

Needless to say, Satoru did text you a few times throughout the day to check on you, seeing what you were up to and how you were entertaining yourself. You both would occasionally send photos back and forth. Satoru would send you a selfie of himself with a thumbs up and a defeated curse, and you would reply with whatever you were doing at the moment.

Because of your photo exchanges, he now had a small album in his phone titled Wifey (^ω^). His favorite so far was actually a video you sent of you playing the grand piano in one of the few estate galleries. He would play it over and over before bed, not to listen to the Debussy piece (thought you did a marvelous job playing it), but to watch you as your fingers floated across the keys with a pleasant, satisfied smile on your face.

He was imagining that face now as he was laying in bed, waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. He wished he could reach into his phone screen, brush the curve of your lips with his fingertips, trace along your eyelashes with his thumbs, and place kiss after kiss on your forehead until he got that smile of yours to come out.

Better yet, Satoru wished you were right here next to him.

He wished he could pull you close to him. He already knew your body would fit perfectly against his. Your head would rest against the crook of his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He wouldn't leave any inch of your face untouched by kisses, especially those delicate lips, the same lips he had to try his best not to stare at when you spoke, but would catch sneaky glimpses of...

They always looked so soft, and he knew they would feel that way against his own. He thought about what it would be like to kiss you for the first time, how shy and nervous you would be, but that is what would make it so much more enjoyable. He would guide you through it, one hand tangled gently in your hair while the other squeezed your waist closer to him.

And the two of you would lay there, the only sounds being the ones you exchanged between one another and the slight rustling of the sheets. Maybe if he got far enough, he would test the waters a little, barely teasing your lips with his tongue as his hands would start roaming against the silky fabric of that lavender nightgown he thought and a little too often, and then-

Satoru groaned, now staring up at the ceiling. He ran his hands over his face once, twice. He tried to think of anyone or anything else...

Nope. His cock was still hard in his boxers.

"Fuck," he seethed, pulling down his waistband. He was painfully hard. And all because he thought about kissing you-

He immediately drew his hands away, letting the waistband go with a snap. No, he shouldn't. He shouldn't. Even if you were married to him, he told you he would be your friend. Nothing more, nothing less... unless you wanted to.

And frankly, Satoru couldn't even tell if you wanted him, not that he would demand or expect you to, of course. He never wanted to come off as the guy that felt they deserved your affections just because he was nice to you. He just... wanted to express his love and attraction as platonically as possible.

Even if that meant going through the rest of your lives remaining this way: living in the same house, sharing the same income, spoiling one another, going to each other for anything and everything and providing a shoulder to cry on...

God, the lines felt blurry, even if they were straightforward: married by status, friends by relationship. He'll keep it that way, and he'd never beat his dick to any of his friends.

Granted... he's never been attracted to any of his friends the way he's been attracted to you. He's never been attracted to anyone the way he's attracted to you.

To him, you were so much more than a body, a hookup for whenever he wanted to get laid and that he could discard when he was finished. He didn't want a friends-with-benefits situation either. He wanted all of you.

Satoru turned over with a sigh, burying his face in the pillow as he cursed himself and his stupidly horny brain, which was something he usually didn't mind. But when it's now starting to think about you in this context...

The reason it probably felt so wrong was because you were so innocent. Hell, you blushed and shied away from the prospect of him with just his shirt off. And he understood what the jujustu community expected, what you expected: for the two of you to produce an heir. But he couldn't care less. To hell with the Gojo bloodline if it meant he was going to have to defile you to appease someone else.

But then again, there's no saying that you didn't want him either...

Fuck. And it's not like he couldn't see the effect he had on you. The way you would smile and flush nervously whenever he teased you, whenever he called you pretty girl. He loved calling you that, almost as much as he liked calling you by your name. (Y/N).

"Fuck... (Y/N)." Satoru turned over and reached his hand into his boxers. He was caving, but just for tonight. Just for tonight, to get the edge off.

He raised his hand briefly to spit in it before bringing his hand back down and hissing at the amount of pre that was already leaking. With a shaky groan, he wrapped his palm around the tip and dragged down slowly.

What if this was your hand instead of his. You would be so shy, at least, maybe at first, before you got comfortable. He would coax you through it, telling you how good you were doing and praising you from how good your perfect hands felt. He'd show you everything. Where he was sensitive, what movements and actions felt the best...

Oh, but what about you.

If you were any other girl, he would have taken your outfits as you trying to entice him with your gorgeous curves. He would've fell for it, dragged you to his room, and ripped those cute dresses and tights to shreds in order to admire those curves properly before he fucked your brains out.

But he could never do that to you, not unless that's what you wanted. He was prepared to do anything for you, of course, but with what he felt for you, what he yearned to do, was to make love to you.

He wanted to make love to you gently, slowly, show you exactly what he was feeling in the most physical way possible. He needed to protect you, make sure nothing would ever hurt you or cause you any discomfort.

He would get all that tempting skin of yours on display for him and put his lips all over it, worshipping you, listening to all those cute noises you would make. He'd run his tongue over your breasts, sucking on them and marking them as his own, before moving down and down-

His hands would push your succulent thighs up to your chest to give him a full view of your sweet cunt, just before he ate you like the tasty little dessert you were. He'd prep you with his mouth and fingers, make you cream a few times to get you all pliant for him-

And that's when he would descend on you, working you through the pain with sensual words and even more sensual touches. He'd get you to take as much as you could, as much as you wanted, because he would be all yours. You would finally belong to each other.

He would be assured of that with each moan and whimper he drew from your throat as he worked you to orgasm, crying out his name over and over- Satoru, Satoru, Satoru- until...

Satoru spilled his cum into his hand with a low mewl of your name. His breaths slowed, one after the other, as the haze of his orgasm, the hardest orgasm he'd had in a while, faded to a quiet thrum in his veins.

He shouldn't have done that. If you had found out about this, he knew you'd probably be disgusted with him.

Or just maybe... maybe you'd feel the same. Somehow.

Satoru was hard again.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby--vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

[daydreams-after-dark]

Pairing: musician!Han x reader… bartender!chan x reader … security guard!Changbin x reader.

Synopsis: Han asks you to meet him in the corridor at a bar. Chan and Changbin join in for the fun.

About a 7 minute read.

This story is moderately unhinged. Porn without plot.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

A/n: I couldn’t sleep the other night and thought to myself “what’s a naughty fantasy I could write about that isn’t realistic in the slightest?” but also not fantasy genre (one day I’ll write a non human Han story, promise).

This is what I came up with. Please be safe when having sex. The following isn’t recommended except in delululand where anything goes. 😜

CW: unprotected p in v sex with multiple strangers in a semi public space (a bar) and ppl see // voyeurism // exhibitionism // sub reader // 3Racha cum dump situation // gagging with underwear// mating press kind of// oral sex m rec// slight degradation- they talk like reader isn’t there // size, stretch kink// mild pain kink// I don���t offer a safe word option in this story but I promise reader wants it all (cos I made her up)// like I said it’s not realistic // if you are uncomfortable with any CW please don’t read.

A/n (again): Okay so now that’s out of the way… the scenario that got me hot and bothered…

Oh and by the way way if you want to be tagged in my after dark content because you’re as filthy as me, please let me know 😘

Really… let’s get started… I’m writing this 3 wines in 🤪 so who knows where we’ll end up. 🫣

You sit on a stool at the bar watching the musician on stage. His name’s Han, and he is singing a love song whilst playing his acoustic guitar. He’s fucking gorgeous and you can’t keep your eyes off him.

The bar itself is pretty empty. There’s the bartender. His name tag says “Chan”, a dozen or so patrons and a security guy pacing the entry way. You’re dressed up far more than anyone else here tonight in your short, tight, stretchy boob tube style dress and strappy stilettos.

Han finishes his song, and apparently his set list because he leaves the stage and some random music comes through the speakers. You turn back to face the bar and concentrate on your drink.

That’s when you feel a hand on your thigh. You turn to see who has the audacity, the nerve, to just come up and do that and find it’s none other than Han himself. Your breath catches in your throat. But he doesn’t actually acknowledge you. He just reaches over the bar, grabs a pen and scribbles something on the back of a coaster and pushes it in front of you. Then after a knowing, silent exchange with Chan, Han is gone.

You look down at the coaster to see a note, an invitation, just for you.

Meet me in the corridor in three minutes.

Corridor? You look around the bar.

“He means the corridor outside the bathrooms.” Chan informs you, like he’s seen this play out before. Oh? So Han does this often? You wonder for half a second, until your feel your pussy throb. You’d better listen to your pussy, you tell yourself.

…..

He’s waiting against the wall outside the bathrooms. Just like Chan said.

You take deep breath and bravely walk up to stand in front of him. He smells intoxicating.

“Hey?” You say quietly.

“Hey, baby.” He replies in a deep, husky voice.

You take a step towards him but in one swift move he turns you around and presses you against the wall.

You cry out in surprise at the forcefulness, then moan into his mouth when he crashes his lips on yours. His hands slide down your sides and then grope your ass as he presses himself against you.

You feel your body spark with arousal as he makes out with you in a rough, urgent way. His hands move down to then reach up under the hem of your dress. He slowly inches it up beginning to expose your ass. You pull away from the kiss and he moves his mouth to your neck.

“M-maybe…we should…take it to the bathroom?” You say.

Han nibbles your ear, his hands cup your bare ass cheeks. “Here’s just fine, baby.” He whispers.

“What?” You yelp.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, not in a filthy toilet.” He grinds against you again and he’s so fucking hard it makes your cunt ache.

You see two women come out of the ladies room and glance over to where you are in the hall. They throw you an encouraging glance and throw a fist in the air to say “you go girl.”

“W-what about protection? You got something?” You pant. He’s really getting to you, and if he were to touch you right there, he’d know how ready you are for him to fill you with his cock.

His hands pull your dress up further exposing your red thong, and he hooks his hands into the sides of your underwear and peels them down your thighs.

You can hardly believe what’s happening when he’s dropped down momentarily to pick them up off the floor.

“Baby,” his voice is serious as his mouth inches closer to your cheek. “You’re asking too many questions. Just do as I say.” He shoves your panties into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Now listen.” He kisses your neck softly and his hands come back to squeeze at your ass. “I’m gonna fuck you raw.” Another kiss to the corner of your mouth this time. “And I’m not gonna pull out.” He yanks your panties out of your mouth. “You understand?”

Your body feels like jelly. His words are turning you on far too easily. You nod vigorously. “Yes. I understand.” You gasp. The panties are pushed back into your mouth and Han smirks at you.

“You’re such a good girl.” He caresses your body. You’re melting under his touch. “I saw you watching me.” His fingers tease the edge of your pussy. You need him to touch you so bad. You feel a thrill knowing you’re naked from the waist down and your dress up around your waist - In a public hallway for fucks sake. Anyone could stumble across you. It makes your pussy squeeze.

You wrap your arms around his neck and begin to grind yourself against his clothed crotch, trying to get him to touch you already.

He slips his fingers between your legs and slides his finger along your pussy. “Fuck baby. I gotta fuck you right now.”

His hands leave your body to undo his pants and release his cock. You don’t even get to see it because he’s lifting you up and your legs automatically wrap around him. He presses you against the wall at the same time he manages to plunge deep into your cunt. You cry out around the panties in your mouth.

He’s inside of you. Fucking you raw just like he said he was going to. He fucks you deep and slow, leaning in close against you and breathing ragged breaths. “Fuck, you feel good… knew your pussy would feel perfect around my cock.” He panted.

Your eyes roll back into your head as this man you’ve barely exchanged two words with is fucking you better than anyone has in a long time.

A few minutes pass and you’re feeling delirious from the relentless pace Han has built up to and you close your eyes, relishing the feeling of being used like this.

You open your eyes to see two men approaching, and you’re startled for a second until you realise who they are.

Chan and the security guard, Changbin is what his name tag says. Fuck you’re going to be kicked out. Banned for life.

But they’re not here to kick you out. Chan comes up to your left, Changbin on your right.

“So you’ve found Han I see.” Chan notes as he breathes on your cheek.

“She’s an eager one. Look at her with her pussy out on display.” Changbin growls.

“Does she feel good, Han?” Chan asks.

“Fuck, yeah! She’s so tight. Such good pussy.” He pants and thrusts harder causing you to whimper.

Chan and Changbin start to kiss your neck, nip your earlobes, breath hot heavy on your skin. The additional physical contact, and just the scenario itself, makes your core tighten. Your orgasm is approaching, you can feel it building rapidly.

“Fuck, look at her responding! She likes the idea of three guys huh?” Changbin notes.

“Hey Hannie, let’s help you out a bit, yeah?” Chan smirks.

Chan and Changbin hook an arm under each of your legs, holding you up and essentially pinning you to the wall behind you. Your arms automatically hold onto their shoulders, as they continue to bury their faces in your neck.

Han pulls out of you the whole way and takes in the sight before him.

“Fuck! Look at her pussy. It’s dripping.” He says.

The two others look down and moan and curse under their breath. Han runs his hands along your inner thighs, pushing them wider. Chan and Changbin pull your legs out as far as they can and then push your bent knees up higher. It’s like they’re trying to get you into as close as a mating press as possible.

“Han, you should get her tits out too.” Changbin suggests. Han obliges and yanks down your strapless dress, spilling your breasts out. It causes a commotion as their hands start to grope and knead them.

Han steps closer, ready to penetrate you again. “This is gonna be so deep, baby.” He pushes his cock back inside you and cups the underside of your ass for leverage.

It is so fucking deep that you swear you can feel him in your throat. He slams into you time and time again. It hurts, but in the most satisfying way. Tears prickle at your eyes from how good you’re being fucked and then you cry out around your panties as you orgasm.

“Shit…shit…fuck…baby…so…slippery…” Han pistons into you frantically. “Fuck I’m cumming, baby.” You feel his release deep inside you, against your cervix, leaving you both panting as you try to catch your breath.

He pulls out, removes your panties from your mouth and uses it to catch his cum that starts to seep out of your hole. Once he’s satisfied, he balls up the underwear and shoves it back in your mouth.

“My turn.” Says Changbin. He swaps places with Han. They continue to hold you in this position as Changbin lines his cock up with your entrance. He’s thicker than Han and the stretch makes you moan a deep guttural sound.

“Yeah, you like Binnie’s cock, hmm?” Chan cooes. “Didn’t know she’d be such a cockslut when I served her drinks.” He added.

“I could tell.” Han replies and licks the skin on your neck.

You’re loving the way they’re talking about you like you’re not there or can’t hear them.

Changbin sets a slow and steady pace, but the way he angles his cock at the end of each thrust sends jolts of pleasure through you. He doesn’t change pace or intensity the entire time he’s fucking you. It’s relentless, excruciating, frustrating that he won’t go faster. You can’t do anything about it because you’re pinned in place.

You sob around the panties in your mouth and your mascara is running down your face as you cry. You need to cum again.

You feel fingers encroach your asshole and start to explore you there. Please don’t tease me. You think to yourself. You don’t know whose fingers they are, but when one squeezes into your tight hole, you cum instantly.

“Fuck! She’s cum again. Such a good girl.” Han praised you.

“Shit, she clamps down hard doesn’t she?” Changbin growls. He suddenly pulls out and coats your inner thighs with his cum.

Again, your panties are removed and used to wipe up as much cum off you as possible and then it’s put back in your mouth.

They release you and help steady you on your feet. Han and Changbin continue to kiss and caress, squeeze and nip at your body.

“My turn now, babygirl.” Chan says pulling a chair into the hallway. He sits himself on the chair, holding his erect cock in his hand. It’s enormous, and you’re not sure how you’re going to manage it.

“Come, sit on my cock. I want to feel if you’re as tight as these two are saying.”

You carefully straddle Chan, facing away from him so the other two can get a full view, and lower yourself over his cock. He stretches you so wide as you slowly sink down. Once you reach halfway you stop. It’s not going to fit.

“You’ve got a bit more to go, sweetheart. Do you need help?” He grabs hold of your hips and pulls you down the rest of the way. You whimper. It’s too deep. He’s too big.

“Now babygirl, you’re gonna fuck yourself on me. Make me cum.” He growls.

You press your stilettos into the carpet and start to bounce on Chan’s cock. The impact against your cervix is brutal and you cry out each time his cock makes contact with it.

You’re not sure how much you can take, but you want to be a good girl, you want to please them. You want to show them you make Chan cum. You ride him wildly with all the enthusiasm you can. Just like in the porn you love to watch. You reach down and rub at your clit, and your other hand comes to your breast. You want to put on a show.

“Fuck, look how red and swollen her cunt is!” Changbin stares at where you and Chan are connected, dick in his hand.

“Makes me want to fuck her again.” Han declares as he pumps his own hardening cock. “Bet it’s twice as tight now.”

They’re right. You are swollen and sore, but it feels so fucking good and you can’t stop.

You reach out, ushering Han and Changbin closer. They step forward and you wrap your hands around their cocks.

Chan’s hands wrap around your front so he can grab onto both of your tits, and Han reaches down to play with your clit.

“That’s the way baby. Your hand feels so good around my cock.” Moans Han.

“How does her cunt feel, Chan?” Asks Changbin.

“Tiny. Feels like I’m gonna split her in two. Fuck, I wanna break her little cunt.”

That was enough. Those obscene words took you over the edge and you were cumming again. Harder than ever.

“Babygirl, I’m close! Fuckin’ milk me. Make me cum. Yes. Yes. Good… fucking pussy…suck it all out me… There you go. There you go.” chan groans, filling you up.

“Quick. Kneel on the floor.” He’s is quick to shove you off his cock.

You kneel on the floor as instructed, and continue to pump Han and Changbin as they stand in front of you. Han rips your panties out of your mouth only to stuff it with his cock. Changbin holds the back of your head while Han fucks your throat. He’s not gentle and you gag. It seems to spur him on, each thrust deeper into your throat. Then he pulls out to tell Changbin do the same.

They take turns like this for a while, even attempting to stick them both in your mouth at once, with Chan slouched on the chair working on getting himself hard again.

Han and Changbin release you and admire the saliva, tears and smeared mascara all over your face.

Then the the three of them stand in front of you pumping their cocks.

“Okay, baby. You ready? Keep your mouth and eyes open for us.” Chan says.

You open your mouth wide and do your best to keep your eyes open as Han, Changbin and Chan shoot ropes of cum all over your face. Some gets in your mouth, but most of it lands on your cheek, eyebrows and caught in your eyelashes.

Fuck you looked like a cum dump with a bucketload on your face, and Chan’s cum running down your leg.

“So fucking pretty.” Han smears the cum around your face.

Your panties are again used to wipe your face, but they are so wet that it can’t absorb anything else.

Chan comes behind you and scoops up some of the leaking cum and pushes it back inside you.

Then they get you to stand up and put your cum-filled panties back on. They feel so wet and dirty. You fix your dress, pulling it back down over your ass and up over your tits.

You look around to find the men are gone.

“Well fuck me!” You say out loud.

“Well I hope I can again.” Han says a he comes out of the bathroom with paper towel. He wipes your face to get the remaining cum off your skin.

“I’m hoping you’ll come back to mine. I still have one more hole to fuck, and I really want to take my time with it.”

////

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @itshannjisung

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | Part X

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER X WARNINGS/NOTES: t.w.'s - strong language, more angst, mention of dr*g abuse during childhood trauma, mentions of death and injuries, Max in a coma, fearful tears, shared sadness, major end-of-the-world terror talk. 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As we dive deeper into just how in love Steve and Bauman continue to fall...we also dive deeper into darkness.

We get a glimpse into the childhood past of Bauman Squared.

Steve finally gets to laugh again with his kids -- and with the girl he wants to have his own kids with one day.

Dr. Owens comes back, but it's not why they expected. Erica is given the hardest burden of all. Robin & Eddie are the whacky aunt and uncle that everyone needed and basically get shit back on track while being thrown hard news. Argyle is actually just a kind dude. Nancy is pulling away, while Jonathan finally feels the gut-punching gravity of what he is losing. Jopper is still carrying the weight of both worlds.

And surprise, b*tches: DIMITRI IS BACK AND BOY IS HE SOOO BACK.

Lastly: chicken nuggets. That is all.

WHILE THIS IS A FANFICTION STORY: IT IS STILL MY WRITING. PLEASE RIGHTFULLY CREDIT ME WHEN REPOSTING OR SHARING. I DO NOT GRANT YOU PERMISSION TO POST MY WRITING AS YOUR OWN. - MISHA @sheisjoeschateau PROOFREAD UNTIL MY EYES BLED. IF THERE ARE STILL TYPOS, SORRY BOUT IT. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

OH SO WE DO LOVE STEVE | Chapter X

“Why do I feel like this is some sort of twisted intervention?”

Erica Sinclair stood in the kitchen next to Murray as he cooked up something to share with a table of adults and teens — plus her.

“In a way, it is,” Murray responded to her as he stirred his ingredients. 

“...okayyyy,” Erica sassed, suspiciously.  “...then why do you want me here but not my brother or my other friends?”

Murray rolled his eyes.  Erica’s attitude was truly the one thing that could bring Murray’s entire mental empire crumbling down like a tower of cards being blown over by a gust of wind.  He pointed his spatula in her direction.

“Think of it this way, kiddo,” he said through a wry, condescending smirk.  “It’s like getting invited to sit at the adults’ table instead of the kids’ table for thanksgiving.  And you’re the only one we’re inviting before you get to go up there and hang out with your little friends.  Alright?”

Erica narrowed her eyes.  “What do I need to know that they don’t?”

Sauce dripped from the spatula as he stared at her.  Christ, she was relentless.  Then again…at least she seemed somewhat perturbed by the idea of knowing things before her brother and their friends.  That was pretty damn selfless for Erica Sinclair.  She cocked an eyebrow at Murray — who squinted back at her.

“Okay, why are you not as willing about this as I thought you’d be…”

“Look,” Erica said, crossing her arms.  “If I’m going to be made to keep a secret?  I need to know all the facts first.  Especially if I have to keep it from my brother.  And Steve.  And Bauman.”

Murray sighed through his nose.  She was right.  Mature, and right.

“I don’t want you to keep it a secret for good,” Murray clarified, speaking slowly.  “I just — we just need you to be made aware of some things before we bring it to everyone else’s attention.  And truth be told?  Harrington needs a break.  So does my niece.  And your friends?  They need some time with mom and dad.  You do, too.  But right now?  You’re the party member in charge of taking on some big information before we spread it to the rest of them.  And quite frankly?  I’m counting on you to help me — and the rest of us — help break it to them.  Got it?”

Erica let all of that land, her guarded expression softening into one of civil understanding.  She pursed her lips, considering this.  Finally, she nodded.

“Alright.  Deal.”

Murray shot her a thumbs up, resuming his cooking.

“That’s really lumpy,” Erica pointed to his saucepan with a soured expression.

“Ohforheaven'ssake —”

__________________________

Robin had taken on laundry duty on Steve’s behalf, knowing that Jonathan intended to talk with him.  Which is why she’d asked Nancy to help her with it, and it has turned out to be a good thing.

Nancy was clearly fraying at the seams.  There was a lot going through her mind, and it was all spiraling fast.  She needed someone to talk to, but none of her options seemed safe. 

She had no idea how or when to break everything she had been feeling to Steve. 

Her relationship with Jonathan was so tense and strained, any conversation shared with him had just blown up. 

And her mom would need to know everything about the upside down, in order to give her proper advice…and at this rate, that option seemed to have no place in this world. 

She couldn’t go to Joyce, because that’s Jonathan’s mom. 

Hopper and Murray were out of the question. 

She wasn’t close enough with Eddie to even consider it. 

And Argyle?  Well, he’d said about as much as he could say.  Far more than what she’d expected, if she was being honest.  

Nancy’s only other option was Robin Buckley.

“God, I swear — the air’s a disease at this point.”

Robin had sat next to Nancy on the porch, carrying the laundry basket.  Nancy quickly wiped a few stray tears, which Robin pretended not to notice – even when Nancy shot her a very forced, tight-lipped grin.

“Yeah,” Nancy chuckled wetly.  “It’s uhh, yeah.  Plagued at this point.  Thanks, Vecna.”

Robin nodded with a smirk.  “Yeah.  Thanks a lot, Vecna.  Fuck you, man.”

That made Nancy giggle, which Robin was grateful to see.  She decided to start off slow, not wanting to force anything.  After all, clearly Nancy was clearly going through it.  And the way she and Robin had started off?  Not great.  Buckley was definitely not trying to push her luck.  Sure, the two of them had gotten along super well as time passed, truly becoming friends while living in Steve’s house.  But they weren’t exactly best friends.  Friends for sure.  But not like Nancy and Barb had been.  Not even close.

“You know,” Robin mused.  “Sometimes, I think back to high school and how…I never really had a best friend while I was there.  Not like you did.”

That made Nancy turn to look at her, curiosity radiating for her bright blue eyes.

“You and Barb,” Robin explained.  “You two were thick as thieves.  She always made sure to take extra notes in Click’s class for you.”

Nancy’s eyes shone with melancholy fondness.  “She did…?”

“Yeah,” Robin smiled.  “Always.  Saved them on little flashcards and everything.  She was always like, ‘I gotta make sure I get this for Nance.’  Or whenever something crazy went down in the classroom, I could tell she was just itching to tell you about during lunch or after school.”

Nancy beamed at that.  She shook her head, grinning widely.  “God, I swear… Barb was like — like that little old lady who couldn’t help but wanna gossip.  Even though she hated drama, she loved it at the same time.  As long as it wasn’t hers or ours.”

“That totally tracks,” Robin snorted.  “What an icon, really.”

“Schyeah,” Nancy giggled wholeheartedly.  “Yeah, she…she was the best.”

Robin watched as Nancy gnawed at her lip, feeling the wave of sadness wash over her.  

“I just wish…” Nancy murmured, voice shaky.  “Just wish that I could…talk to her sometimes, you know?  Not just to tell her how sorry I am.  For everything that happened before she…”

Nancy’s voice trailed off.  Robin dared to reach over and touch her shoulder, relieved when Nancy didn’t push her away or tense underneath her touch.

“I just wanna ask her questions,” Nancy’s voice shook.  “So many questions, like…like the way we used to.  As best friends.  About — everything.  Life, family, love…friends…the end of the fucking world…”

Robin nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I know.”

Because Robin did know.  Whenever she had become best friends with Steve, it had made her world significantly brighter.  Her heart was full, and her soul had been lifted out of its constant anxiety-ridden state.  Robin had been so closed off to bonding with anyone, especially the likes of Steve Harrington.  Little did she know, that guy would end up being her truest best friend and confidant.  The one she could lean on, tell anything to and count on for the rest of her life.  However short that might be, given the end of the world… But she had Steve by her side, trusting him with every secret she had and her literal life in his hands.  

Barb had been that for Nancy.  But she was gone.

“I don’t know what to do,” Nancy’s voice cracked.  She looked over at Robin with tear rimmed eyes, fighting them from falling as she bit down on her trembling lip.  “About…anything.”

Robin kept listening, wanting so badly to go on a rant but willing herself not to.  Because right now, it’s Nancy who needs to rant.  She needed to ramble until she couldn’t anymore.

“I’ve been so…God, I’ve been so in love with Jonathan since we met and…got through all of this together.  It just…just...worked.  Clicked, made sense.  Way more sense than Steve, but — but Steve and I, we…what we had was…it was real.  Really real.  Even Barb saw it, she just — just didn’t want me getting hurt, or…losing myself for a guy.  But I didn’t really.  Steve never pushed me to do anything that I didn’t wanna do, or…wasn’t ready for.  Ever.  Not once.  He was kind to me, and…and I feel like…like I just… I think I’m the one who did wrong by him.  Not the other way around.  All because I just felt so…lost, and conflicted, and scared, and unsure, and…and…”

Nancy curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks as she ducked her face out of sight.  But Robin scooched closer to her, enveloping her into a comforting embrace as she wept.  And Nancy let her, allowing herself to lean against her.

“I told him what we had was bullshit and it wasn’t,” Nancy cried bitterly.  “It wasn’t, he's not -- I was just…so fucking mad that Barb was gone.  And it was easier to blame Steve, all because he wasn’t hurting the way that I was.  The way that I still am.  But that’s — that’s n-not — b-because he d-doesn’t…c-care…”  

Nancy’s shoulders convulsed, and Robin’s heart broke for her as she held her tighter.

“B-but Jonathan had lost Will, so h-he…he got it.  H-he knew wh-what I was…going through… And I-I j-just felt...so r-right with him.  Because l-looking at him didn’t remind me of…of…”

Nancy choked on a sob.  

Robin knew she meant Barb.  She didn’t have to say it.

“I’m angry.  For me, for Barb, for Steve, for Jonathan…my mom, dad, Mike…everyone.  All the time.  And I just d-don’t know what to do, because…Jonathan shut me o-out, and w-wanted to b-break up with m-me all because he felt like…he was…holding me back, and wouldn’t just t-talk…to me…and then S-Steve… Steve, h-he wanted me back b-but now…h-he…he loves…he loves…”

Nancy ugly cried into her palms, muffling the noise so that it wouldn’t be heard from anyone inside.  Robin clung to her, rocking them back and forth with some gentle, soothing shushes.

“He loves her, Robin,” Nancy cried, heartbreak and anguish lacing her voice.  “He loves her, and s-she loves him back.  S-so much…b-better than I d-did…and I…I should be…so h-happy for him.  And h-her, but I just…I just…wonder if I…did I…did I m-mess up…?  Did I lose the p-person I was s-supposed to b-be with?  I just didn’t…think he’d…move on…and that’s so…fucking SELFISH of me…”

Robin squeezed her.  “It’s not selfish.  It’s human.  Steve is amazing.  But Nancy…it’s okay that you didn’t go back to him.”

“But you thought I should,” Nancy leaned back now.  She looked at Robin dead in the eye with bloodshot, red rimmed eyes.  They swam in regrets, sorrows and bitterness.

“You and Eddie both thought that we should,” she said, voice croaked and upset.  “Y-you both…thought that we…shouldn’t have…broken up, or…”

“You’re right,” Robin admitted, feeling bad but deciding it was best to just own up to it.  “You’re right, I did.  We did.  Me and Eddie.  But Nancy…sometimes we’re just so distracted by what seems right…that we can’t see what’s actually right in front of us.”

Nancy looked at her quizzically.  Robin sighed.

“Look, when you left Steve,” Robin explained, taking her hand into both of hers.  “Back in senior year, and you got with Jonathan…you two had your own journey.  You had each other.  Steve?  Steve had no one during his — except for the kids…and Bauman.  Because back then, he didn’t know yet.  He didn’t know about her and Murray intervening —”

“Yeah, I know,” Nancy said bitterly.  “We all know that now.”

“Just hear me out,” Robin pleaded with her softly.  “I promise, I’m with you, alright?”

Nancy stared at her for a moment, finally softening her tense jaw and nodding once.  Robin picked back up, on cue.

“Steve still had a lot of growing up to do.  On his own.  Dustin was the first to reach out to him.  Well, he basically forced himself on Steve.  And Steve needed that.  He’s an only child.  He needed a little brother to give him grief, and boss him around and pick on him.  You have Mike.  Steve didn’t have that until Dustin wormed his way into his life." Robin added with a smile, " ...and his heart.”

Nany thought about that, expression pensive with realization.

“Then Bauman came along,” Robin continued.  “She was Steve’s age… You and Jonathan were off with the adults.  He got left behind to watch the kids with her.  They went through…a lot of shit that night.  You did, too.  But so did they.  They fought off Billy Hargrove.  They protected the kids, fought off the demodogs in the tunnels.  They survived the night together.  You know what that feels like.  You and Jonathan bonded that way.  Right?”

Nancy hesitates but looks back at her, sniffing.  Eventually, she nods again.

“Right," Robin exhales deeply, proceeding. "So Steve… Steve had someone his age to be around, along with the kids.  And that was great.  Because she’s independent and badass, but also really chill and down to earth.  Like, some sort of femme tomboy.  Which Steve lowkey kind of needed, she really was exactly what --"

“Robin, I get it,” Nancy snapped, not wanting to hear about you in a complimentary way.  At least not at this moment.

“No, hear me out,” Robin insisted, giving her hands another squeeze.  “You need to hear this, Nancy, alright?  You know you’re beautiful.  You know Steve has been helplessly in love with you for years.  That’s not even a question.”  

Robin paused, shifting gears again as she refused to let Nancy look away from her.  

“...but Steve had to move on.  Or…find ways to convince himself that he could.  And Bauman?  She was there for that.  She was around, during all his growth.  And trust me – it was ugly.  You have nothing to envy there.  God, the way that they argued?  The way Steve talked to her, honestly?  Honestly.  You would’ve slapped him.  I sure as hell did a few times.  Mostly verbal slapping.  But I hit him a few times, not gonna lie.  You’ve seen the highlights of Steve’s growth.  You have seen the best parts of him, but…but Bauman was there for all of it.  She got to see it all happen in real time, from the second you and Jonathan met back up with them to right now.  And she owned up to her shit, too.  It wasn’t her fault, by no means was it her fault.  But hey, she took the hits.  Many times.  And she still ended up falling in love with Steve, who she swore was the last person who would ever win her over.  Those two knuckleheads were relentless whenever I came into the picture.  Fighting like lovers in a quarrel with absolutely zero history of affection to show for it.  But still, they got through shit together.  They put their differences aside for the kids, and when it came to fighting off the Russians?  She and Steve honestly kept me so sane.  And they kept us safe, too.  Me, Dustin and Erica.  They didn’t get along in the real world, but in the upside down world?  They did.  They didn’t even think twice.  Steve grew into a way better person because of her.  And she opened up a lot more because of him, and the kids.  She didn’t grow up with siblings either.  That’s another thing they have in common.”

Nancy took all of that in with a solemn expression.  Robin let that sink in before continuing.

“I know this is…a lot.  But really, Nancy…so much happened while you were gone.  Those two fell in love over time without even knowing it.  Shit, we didn’t know it either.  That was a plot twist for all of us — including Murray.  Despite what he says, that guy does not know everything.”

Nancy scoffed.  “I know that.”

“Of course you do.  We all do.  He does, too.  Especially now.  Now that his niece and Steve are clearly so head over heels in love with one another.”

Nancy’s heart sank at that.  She knew that it was true.

“I’m not…” Nancy mumbled, eyes downcast.  “I’m not mad at her for falling in love with him.  Or him.  I just…can’t help but wonder if I messed up.  Missed out on someone that I loved more than I allowed myself to when we were together.”

“You couldn’t have loved him more back then, Nancy,” Robin corrected her.  “Because who he was then, is not who he is now.  And who he is now is someone that Bauman has played a huge role in him becoming.”

Nancy sniffed a few times, bringing her knees to her chest and lost in thought.

“Do you still love Jonathan?”

Nancy looked at her, surprised.  “What?”

“Tell me what you’re feeling there,” Robin pressed gently.  “Why is that going wrong again?”

Nancy got defensive.  “Um, what’s wrong is that he clearly planned on leaving me while I was back here being loyal to him.”

“Right,” Robin mused.  “But…what about after he got back?  What happened then?”

Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t.  She thought about that for a while.

“We just…” she started.  “...we just…moved past it.  We let it go.”

Robin nodded slowly.  “After all you two have been through…knowing damn well that things need to be talked about…you both really thought that was best?”

“He doesn’t ever tell me how he actually feels,” Nancy snapped.  “I’m so sick of it.  I always have to push him to tell me things.  He just — shuts me out.  Clams up, retreats.  He won’t even tell me when he’s upset about something unless I make him.”

“Well then,” Robin nods.  “That’s definitely on him.  But what about you?”

Nancy scrunches her face in confusion.  

“Why didn’t you tell him how you felt either?” Robin asks, unblinking.

Nancy stares at her, not knowing how to answer that.

“I told him that I love him,” Nancy whispers.  “And that I…that we’re fine.”

Robin’s expression softens.  “Do you wanna be?”

Nancy’s face crumbles.  “I…I want…”

Robin waits, not knowing what to expect but knowing that it’s getting somewhere.  

“I want him to love me again,” Nancy cries in despair.  “I want him to fight for me, and — and love me the way that I thought that he did.  That he would.  That he always would —”

Robin holds Nancy again as she convulses with sobs in her arms.  They stay that way for a little while, allowing the dust to settle.  Nancy has said enough for now.  It would all unravel itself more over time. 

Meanwhile, Eddie had told Jonathan to make his way upstairs and talk with Steve.

“You’re on, buddy boy,” Eddie told him with a hard pat on the back.  

So while Jonathan made peace with Steve, Nancy had finally released some of her emotions and confided in Robin.

And now, all the adults were in the kitchen as Murray made some food for the older teens and Erica.  They’d asked Robin and Eddie to make sure that Argyle, Jonathan and Nancy were all going to be present for it, along with Erica before she could go upstairs and join the kids.

So here they all were now: sitting at the dinner table while Murray and Erica served them up plates and bowls of random foods.  

Jonathan had watched Nancy make her way into the kitchen with Robin, newly fresh faced and eyes puffy from crying.  She wore her pajamas now, having taken a quick shower and washing off the anguish from her meltdown earlier.  Jonathan’s heart cracked in two, and it did even more as Nancy went to sit next to Robin.  He stood up, unable to help himself.

“I got you a seat here,” he said, voice shaky.

Nancy had looked over at him, eyes cold and expression blank.

“That’s alright,” she said, voice level and cool.  “We share a room.”

Nancy sat next to Robin, demeanor cool and calm and collected.  She was stiff, but there was a chilling resilience to her that Jonathan had not seen in a while.  It terrified him, making his anxiety spike.  Had he lost her?  Was he too late?

He swallowed hard, accepting it — given everyone else at the table.  Hopper had awkwardly reached for some pepper as this was happening, working in slow motion as he felt really uncomfortable.  So Jonathan just nodded, and Joyce gave him a sympathetic look as she placed glasses of water and tea in front of everyone.

Eddie made concerned eye contact with Robin as he poured himself some water.  Yikes.

“I’ll sit next to you, my dude,” Argyle said warmly, knowing he needed to step in.  Jonathan was grateful for that, but still dying inside as he kept stealing glances at Nancy — who looked anywhere except his way.

Murray clicked his tongue loudly. “Alrighty then. Shall we?”

With a thud, he set down his plate. Joyce clenched her jaw but took a deep breath.

“Lay it on us,” Eddie said with a deep exhale, sitting down on the other side of Argyle. 

“Yeah, what’s this pow-wow and why is it just this group who's on it?” Erica questioned as she stationed herself on the other side of Robin. 

“Right,” Hopper sighed before shoveling a mouthful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and leaning back to chew, readying himself. Everyone waited patiently.

“Here’s the deal,” he began, leaning forward and eyeing everyone individually as he spoke. “No one here is being made to keep a secret. That’s not what’s going on.”

“So then why is it private?” Robin asked curiously. 

“Because right now…we need to set some things straight. Set in stone.  Before we dive into our group meeting tomorrow. Consider this…a board meeting of sorts.”

Jonathan furrowed his brow. “Don’t we want Bauman and Steve for that?”

Hopper sighed deeply, rubbing at his beard. “This affects them. And the kids.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at that, feeling nervous. He looked over at Robin, who looked just as worried.

Erica scrunched her face up. “Then why am I here?…”

“Because I need one of you kids to be level headed and vouch for me,” Hopper explained. “And for Joyce and Murray. We’ve spent a lot of time figuring this out. Weighed out our options, talked to El about it.”

“Does she know?” Nancy asked.

“Some,” Hopper nodded. “Most… Not all.”

Erica leaned forward, truly listening and accepting that she was clearly going to need to stick with some sort of plan that her friends were not going to be keen on…

Hopper contemplated his next words carefully.

“Look. Tonight, I need those kids to rest. To laugh, play some card games. Eat too much candy, and just have a good night. Soak up all the fun they can get before this mandate goes into effect soon. And before we have to go forward with a plan.”

Hopper made sure that everyone was with him on that.  Off their nods, he continued.

“There’s two groups. One that’ll stay here, in hiding. Down in the basement, where we’ve already started making up basecamp. They’ll have to stay hidden.  Out of sight.  Quiet.  On high alert.  It’s a gamble.  Just because they’ll be home…it doesn’t guarantee them any safety.”

Hopper took a deep breath, eyes filled with dread.  He rubbed at the gap between his pinched brows.

“…the other group will have to risk getting back out there.  And we won’t be anywhere that’s not swarmed and completely surrounded by the government and — god-knows-who-else, before we can get ourselves back near the largest gate that’s torn itself open and is ready to swallow Hawkins.”

Everyone’s blood ran cold. 

No one was safe. They weren’t before, but now? Nothing was off the table. Everything was high risk, no matter where anyone was stationed.

“If you’re sitting here,” Hopper continued slowly, voice grave, “at this table, listening to this conversation…minus Erica and Murray...you’re in Group 2. ”

Nancy and Jonathan both felt their chests constrict, but they understood. It didn’t surprise them per se. And at this point, nothing should scare them. But it did.

Joyce looked at her eldest son, torn but knowing it had to be done.

Erica looked over at Murray, who gave her a soft nod.

Robin and Eddie looked at each other, along with Argyle, shuddering. 

“Dimitri is going with us,” Hopper added.

“Who’s he?” Jonathan asked.

“Russian soldier,” Joyce told him, holding up a hand to clarify. “He’s on our side.”

Jonathan hesitated but eventually gave her a small nod. He looked over at Nancy, who was staring down at the table with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.

“He’s got insight,” Hopper continued. “Knows what we’re dealing with, and how to handle what we’re all up against.  We’ll need as many of us as we can get out there.  Those of us who know the risks, and know how to navigate this world.”

Robin processed that, thinking. “So that…where does that leave Steve and Bauman?”

Hopper was quiet. The way he gnawed his cheek made it clear that this was where it got messy.

“Steve is on the frontlines with us,” Hopper explained carefully. “…and Bauman is stationed back here with Murray and the kids, along with Dr. Owens.”

Robin’s heart sank, and so did Eddie’s. They both shared a sad, all-knowing look.  They knew this wasn’t going to go well.  At all. They knew that Steve was going to flip his shit at just the idea of leaving you out of his sight.

“Won’t Dr. Owens have a target on his back?” Eddie asked, concerned. “Won’t that — won’t that draw more danger here…?”

That made Robin look at Hopper, wide-eyed. The retired cop looked pale, eyes full of dread.

“He has to be here in case anything happens to Bauman or Max,” he explains solemnly. “Because if shit goes south here…they’ll need to run.”

Jonathan felt sick.  This also meant leaving Will behind.  “But…how? How can they run?”

“That’s where I come in,” Murray chimes in. “Between me and Erica and Dustin, we’ll be able to keep a close eye out for a signal — which Will can help us navigate.”

“Because he’s still connected to it all,” Joyce explains sadly.  “He still…feels it. He senses when it’s near.”

“Which is why he’ll be able to give us a warning,” Murray nods, adding to Joyce’s input. “Since El has to be out there with you guys, we’ll still have a connected source that's here with us.”

“The kids can’t do this,” Hopper adds, tone firm. “Not this time.  El doesn’t count, as much as I want her to stay back.  She can’t.  I know that.” He looks at Erica with parental eyes.  “But as far as the rest of you kids go?  No more.  It’s already bad enough having to risk you all staying here.  But if this is how it’s gotta go down?  You’re staying where there’s a controlled space, with 2-3 solid abort mission plans — which Murray knows from top to bottom.”

Erica hangs her head, but she nods. She knows this makes sense. 

“As for Bauman,” Hopper continues, eyes sad. “She’s not able to get back out there. Between her heart issues and her bad shoulder and ribs…she has to stay put.”

“No, I agree with that,” Robin says, voice full of gravel before she clears it. “But, umm…I’m just…really worried that…well it’s just — Steve, he’s um, he’s —”

“He’s going to have to do this,” Hopper interjects, but not unkindly. In fact, it’s full of empathy and remorse. “He knows the ways. You’ll all need him. His stamina, his strength. He’s strong, good with a bat and can outrun shit.  He also knows what to keep an eye out for, whatever comes our way.”

Eddie gulps, partially because he’s terrified about facing the underworld again…but also because he knows that Steve will be a wreck the entire time he’s gone with them and not with you. And if Eddie’s being honest, the idea of leaving you and the kids behind is killing him too. He’s especially grown to love you and Dustin over the last year.

“This isn’t open for discussion,” Hopper says, voice firmer and tone low.  “Tomorrow, when we have our living room meeting, I’ll be conveying this to everyone…along with Murray and Joyce.  And I need to know I have each and every one of you on our side.  Those kids are going to raise hell.  All of them are.  And this plan is not changing.  It’s either this…or we all stay hunkered down until we rot.  Am I making myself clear?”

Nancy and Jonathan nodded first, quickly followed by Robin and Eddie.

“Yes sir,” Argyle spoke first, and for the first time he genuinely looked aware of just how heavy all of this stuff really is.  Jonathan gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Erica,” Hopper was looking directly at the youngest person sitting across the table.  “I’m counting on you.  I know that’s not fair, but I am.  You’re tough as nails.  You’re gonna have to be that way with your brother, and his friends.  Your friends.  You'll have to be hard...but gentle enough to get it through to him.  I don’t care what you gotta do, you do it.  Whatever you have to say?  Say it.  And if anybody gives you shit for knowing this before they did…send them to me.  Understood?”

Erica looked back at Hopper with the most somber expression.  But she nodded.

“Understood,” she said, voice low.

Hopper gave her a curt nod before looking over at the older teens.

“As for you guys,” he said.  “We all know the shit that just went down yesterday at the fence.  Bauman’s always been at the frontlines with us.  She can’t be now.  And Steve cannot hang back.  He’s got too much strength that we can’t afford to not have on our side of this battle.  And I don’t care if Bauman insists she can do it.  She can’t, and she won’t.”

“And if she gets stubborn,” Murray interjects, voice fierce.  “Tell me.  If she tries pulling a fast one?  You tell me.  Capiche?”

Eddie and Robin quickly nod up and down.

“I’ll talk to him if it gets bad,” Jonathan says in a weak voice.

Nancy narrows her eyes at him.  Since when do he and Steve talk?

“Good,” Joyce says with a sad, tight-lipped grin and nod at her son.  “He’ll need it.”

"I'll be there for him, too," Robin nodded at Jonathan.

“Will we be able to stay in contact with them at least?” Eddie asks pathetically.  “Via the walkies?”

“When necessary...yes,” Hopper confirms.  “We’ll have to be scarce about it.  Selective.  Nowhere is safe.  It’ll have to be reserved for vital communication only.”

Eddie frowned, but nodded in understanding.  Robin was currently biting her palm, consumed with dread and sickening anxiety.  Leaving you behind?  The kids?  Even Murray, who everyone had come to appreciate in their own weird sort of way — mostly because of how much they all loved you.  He was an extension of you.  The whole situation just felt…fucked.

But wasn’t everything fucked?  Wasn’t this entire world so catostrophically fucked in every single which way, seemingly irreparable?  

Was there actually an end to this nightmare?  A world in which the upside down would cease to exist…monsters would go back to their storybooks and dark, twisted fairy tales…the moon would only ever symbolize light within forgotten darkness...and the sun would never hide behind the ashy debris that currently clung to the air, just outside their windows?

Despite how everything looked grim, with seemingly no end in sight…you all persisted in choosing to believe.  Yes.  Yes, this was going to end.

The end of the world was nearing.  It was inevitable.

But it wouldn’t be your world.

***

You never really put much thought into what having a family would feel like one day.

You’d wondered.  Every little girl does.  In young girlhood, there’s the beauty of innocence that protectively surrounds all grown-up dreams that fuel your wildest imagination.  The dreams of never having to go to school, and being in charge of everything you want.  The dreams of being able to eat whatever you want, whenever you want.  The dreams of meeting your future husband, and getting to wear a big white, sparkly ballgown as you walk down the aisle to your happily ever after.  The dreams of being a princess in a big castle, ruling the land and having cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and tea parties everyday with your friends.

Sure, you’d had those dreams as a little girl.  How could you not?  It was inevitable.

But as you grew older, you didn’t really have a chance to fantasize about much.  You’d been made to grow up from a very young age.  Your grandmother had been there for you enough.  She kept a roof over your head.  Food on the table.  A very generous allowance, even though you never asked for one and you’d gotten yourself a job by the age of 13 painting peoples’ houses and doing yard work.  You’d even gotten hired by your uncle to do data entry for him, along with a couple of his contacts who did intense investigative research and needed someone to work remotely.  You earned your own living, and you did upkeep on your grandmother’s house — despite her never asking you to do so.  She was gone a lot.  She wasn’t very old.  Just a smoker who liked casinos and taking trips with her “friend” from time to time.  A woman, who she only ever referred to as her "assistant."  You knew better than to believe that, but you never said anything about it.  She was a closeted lesbian — which is why Robin coming out of the closet for you had been the easiest news to take, let alone support.  Your grandmother was a tough, long-acrylic-nails-donning boss bitch who did whatever the hell she wanted.  You’d gone with her many times to some casino resorts, mostly staying in the hotel room or just walking around the city.  It felt like living with a Mafia Mobwife.  It was cool, for the most part.  But it definitely meant being able to hold your own.  She’d raised herself when she was a kid — and in most ways, you did too.

It’s why you’d spent so much time with your uncle, who didn’t live very far.  He was home a lot.  Given his line of work, he didn’t go out much.  He became even more of a hermit as the years went on, and you liked that.  It meant consistency.  His spare room basically became your room.  It couldn’t exactly be considered a “guest room” when he never had guests over.  You’re the only person he invited over for company, and he loved it.  The two of you got along effortlessly.  His dark humor rubbed off on you early on, which your grandmother shared in but she wasn’t nearly as quick-witted as Murray.  That’s where you got it from.  But your dry, snarky wit was much more selectively timed than his.  He was all over the place.  You had solid social cues, given that you went to school and were around people often.  Your uncle was definitely an oddball.  But you loved him to death, and you got him better than anyone else did.

You weren’t babied.  You weren’t coddled, or sheltered, or given false hope about the world.  It’s why you held your own, and it’s also why you never victimized yourself.  It was to a fault, but you believed it was for the best.

So when Clark broke your heart into a million pieces, you told yourself it had been a risk from the start.  A gamble, just like the poker tables at those casinos that your grandmother frequented all the time.  Love was a dangerous game, and it spared no one.  There were winners and losers — and you’d lost this one.

But right now, in this moment, you felt as though you had just won every single jackpot that there was to win.  

Because right now, you were sitting in Steve’s lap on the floor of Max’s room in his big house, holding cards closely to your chest as Lucas screeched GO FISH at Dustin.  Steve’s hand was in plain sight, and if you were a cheater you’d have him beat in seconds.  But you didn’t need to win a stupid card game…because you had won the greatest game of all: life.

El and Mike were cuddled up close to each other, giggling and being young teens in love.  In a normal world, you would assume it to be puppy love between them.  But this world wasn’t normal, and the shit that they’d been through together wasn’t any different than what you and Steve had been through together.  It was real love, and you let them be that way.

Lucas was seated next to Max in her bed, holding her hand and laughing like a kid again.  Dustin was hoarding all of the candy from his backpack (so much for sharing) and laughing like a buffoon.  He bickered with Steve and the kids as usual, but something about it was just so…bright.  Hearty laughter bounced off the walls, and there were so many times that Steve had belly laughed — along with you and the other kids — that you’d all lost count.

Sometimes, you swore that you saw Max’s lips twitch.  As if she could hear you all in her coma, wanting to laugh along with everybody.  Lucas would talk to her as if she could hear you all just fine, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead while showing her his hand in cards.  Dustin even gave her a sleeve of her favorite candy — just for her.  He might not have basic manners with the rest of you, but Max?  Always.  

Will was keeping score, seated next to you and Steve with the biggest smile you had ever seen him wear.  He laughed hysterically the entire night, even going as far as verbally expressing adoration for you and Steve.  Dustin would pretend to gag, but Will would just tell him he knew better than to think that the curly-haired smart alec wasn’t completely in love with the two of you being together.  Dustin had grinned all dopey and wide, rolling his eyes but not arguing with him any further.  

At some point, Mike suggested all swapping ghost stories.  

Lucas had barked the loudest laugh.  “How about the one we’re currently living??”

“Hey, hey,” Steve interjected.  “I got a better idea.  Tell your most embarrassing story.  One you’re scared shitless to tell.”

You'd grinned in his arms, snickering.  “Oh I got plenty of those.”

“I mean hey,” Dustin shrugged with a mouthful of candy.  “If we’re gonna die, we might as well get real.”

“Okay chill, we’re not going to die,” Steve scoffed, hiding his internal worry.

“It’s possible,” Mike shrugged, grabbing another bag of M&M’s.

Steve huffed.  “Dammit, Wheeler —”

Mike’s devilish grin was infuriating yet endearing at the same time.

“I wish Max could hear all of this,” El said with a tinkering laugh.

You gave her the warmest of smiles and a wink.  “Trust me.  She does.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucas smiled wide, squeezing Max’s hand.  “I’ll even tell one of her stories, for her.”

“...dude, she’s gonna kill you,” Dustin warned him, but there was a smirk lifting at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll go first,” Will announced, laying on his stomach as he ate some popcorn.  “One time?  I was asleep in bed but I woke up because I heard Jonathan moaning so loudly — like, disturbingly loud —”

“Okay, maybe I needed to lay down some ground rules here —” Steve starts with a very tight voice as you snorted into your palm.

“Just hear me out,” Will laughs, holding a hand.  “I thought it was with a girl —”

“William,” Steve scolded.

“But he was in the bathroom,” Will talked over him.  “Shitting his brains out.”

Dustin cackled while Mike audibly expressed disgust while laughing at the same time.  El looked shocked, giggling hysterically into her hand.

“Damn, that bad?!” Lucas roared.

“He lit every candle in the house,” Will cackled.  “Mom went to use it shortly after him and came barreling into our rooms to ask us in a panic what had died up one of our butts!”

Steve collapsed into you laughing, and you couldn’t even breathe from laughing so hard.  It was that sort of deep laughter that’s so painful because it’s quiet before you’re able to finally erupt with loud laughs that help you come down from a high.  All the kids were a fit of cackles and giggles, too.  Erica made her way into the room finally, jumping right into things and bringing cookies with milk.  All of you exchanged stories, allowing yourselves to only cry tears of joy.  It was exactly what you all needed, long overdue.

And for the first time in ages — none of you thought about the upside down, or the impending doom that awaited you just outside of the Harrington house throughout all of Hawkins.

That night, you and Steve tucked every single of your kids into their assigned sleeping bags and cots.  Lucas stayed with Max in her bed, asking you sheepishly if that was alright.  You’d nodded, along with Steve — more than approving.  And given you both would be chaperoning that night in the same shared room, you also let Mike and El cuddle up together in a sleeping bag.

“Hands outside of the covers, Wheeler,” Steve warned him, but he gave him a wink — adding please at the end.  Even Mike gave him a smile and nod, like a little kid who felt called out but also didn’t have any intention of disobeying.

Dustin and Will joked in high pitched voices about being bunkmates with their sleeping bags next to each other, given they were the two singles of the group.  Technically, Erica was too.  But even if she wasn’t, she would still demand her own space.  She had situated herself on the floor beside Lucas’s side of the bed, not planning to give him a hard time for a good while given what was in store for everyone tomorrow.

As for you and Steve — the two of you had stationed yourselves in the center of the room, closest to the door.  That way, you could see all your kids at any point during the night and also be the first to fight off any harm coming your way, should danger lurk on the other side of the locked bedroom door.

Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair as he dozed off, earning a sleepy little “hmph” from him.  After he made sure all of them were comfortably settled in for the night, he crawled over to you.  His nail bat was propped somewhere nearby — ready to be swung into action if need be.  But the need for it that night never came.

You curled into Steve’s chest, breathing in his clean, masculine scent and allowing it to fill all of your senses.  Sighing contentedly, you felt a rush of warmth wash over you as his lips pressed into the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you more,” you murmured in the softest of whispers.

You felt him chuckle against you.  “Impossible,” he breathed into your hair, pulling you so close to him you might as well be the same body.

And had you not been so completely relaxed in his arms, you might have fought him on it.  The whole "I love you more" thing. In fact you definitely would have.  But you just hummed, dozing off in his strong arms and allowing sleep to find you.

***

Waking up had been beautiful. The sun was even more hidden than usual, plagued by the new world coming into fruition. But despite the lack of sunshine outdoors, you felt as though it shone through the entire room as all the kids woke up and whispered to each other. You pretended not to hear them when they talked about you and Steve. Because if you were being honest? You’d been dying to hear their uncensored thoughts. If they thought that you weren’t listening, they wouldn’t hold back from saying what was actually on their mind.

Turns out?  All of them wanted this. The two of you together.  They laughed about how some of them thought that Steve was going to end up with Robin at first. 

“No way,” Lucas shook his head in a confident whisper. “Those two? They’re like brother and sister.”

“Yeah, but Bauman’s so out of his league,” Mike whispered back.

“She is not,” Will added in a defensive whisper.

“She so is,” Mike whispered indignantly.

“No way, Steve’s awesome,” Dustin defended in a whisper.

“Yeah but like,” Mike whispered, pondering with a sigh. “I mean yeah. He is. I like him. He’s cool. Way cooler than I thought he was at first. But Bauman’s literally a badass. She doesn't care what people think.”

“Steve doesn’t care anymore,” Erica chimes in, speaking softly. She’s actually pleading Steve’s case and it’s adorable.  “He used to. But when we were down there with the Russians? And he had to wear that stupid sailor outfit for work?…”

“Oh my god,” Dustin snickered. “That shit was so funny.”

“He looked like Shirley Temple from the Good Ship Lollipop,” Lucas snickered back, and Will had to shush them so that they wouldn’t wake you up.

“My point is,” Erica continued with sass. “Steve doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks of him now. I mean…he gave her hell the whole time I was around ‘em.”

“I still don’t get that,” Mike whispered.

“Me either,” El added quietly.

“What do you mean?” Dustin whispered in confusion. “I told you guys the whole story. That once upon a time ramble I had to sit through when Murray basically went on to give us an entire rundown on the two of them?”

“Well duh,” Mike whispered in annoyance. “I know that. But dude…she’s…like, she's...”

“Hot.”

Everyone went quiet, and you stiffened as you held back laughter. Because the person who had called you hot?  It was El.

“Bauman is hot,” El repeated.

Eventually someone snorted. Then, they all did. You bit back laughter, blushing into Steve’s chest with your face kept hidden.

“You’re hot,” Mike added to her in a coy whisper.

“No, you are,” she whispered back sweetly.

“Enough,” Erica whispered definitively. 

“Max thinks that Steve is hot,” Lucas scoffed.

“He is,” Erica and El said at the same time.

“Hey,” Mike whined, and they all shushed him.

“Face it, dude,” Dustin whispered flatly. “He is. I wish I looked like him.”

“You look great, man,” Will assured him. “You got a girl like Suzy. You gotta be a stud to catch someone like her.”

Dustin had blushed at that with a wide, dopey grin. “Think so?”

After listening to them chat some more, eventually Steve started to stir. He’d told them good morning, to which Dustin all too happily responded with a very loud good morning back —- making Steve audibly groan and bite back curse words. The kids all snickered. 

Will started handing out drawings out to everyone. You all had been sketching and drawing together in your assigned room earlier the day before, while Steve had been getting Max’s room ready.  Will had told you all to draw a picture of someone else in the party. He’d even chosen who was drawing who.  

Will and Lucas drew each other.

Mike and Erica drew each other.

El and Dustin drew each other.

And you drew Steve, before he joined you all and eventually drew his original art piece of you while you all played a round of the Game of Life.

Here you were now: holding your drawing close to your chest, and wiggling your eyebrows at Steve. He gave you the most adorable smirk, his cocoa brown eyes still a bit sleepy and his perfect hair the sexiest case of bed head. He stretched, toned arms flexing and his white t-shirt clinging to his muscles in all the right places while being loose enough to wanna rip it off of him…

Not the time, Bauman, you mentally scolded yourself.

Steve had reached underneath his pillow to fetch his drawing of you, holding it to his chest and sitting across from you — crossed-legged and shooting you a wink. All the kids mirrored you both, sitting opposite their assigned art piece subject with throaty giggles and snorts. 

Will looked at everyone excitedly, like a proud art professor, ready for his classroom to partake in show-and-tell.

“Alright,” he smiled. “Everyone ready?”

“Yeah, you go first, Byers,” Steve nodded at him with an encouraging grin.

Will blushed. “Oh…well…I mean…I should go last. You guys first. On the count of 3, everyone turn your photos around to your partner.”

Mike snorted as he stared down Erica. “Howdy, partner,” he drawled in a fake accent. El giggled, and so did Lucas. 

Erica shot Mike a wry smirk. “Easy now, cowboy.”

“Bet you made me look like a total loser,” Mike snickered. 

“I don’t have to draw you to make you look like that,” Eric’s said in the most sugary sweet, sarcastic voice.

“Okay snarkbutts, settle down,” Steve scolded lightly in a groggy voice, no heat behind it. “Will has the floor. William: proceed.”

Will saluted him. “Alright. Count of 3.”

“Please tell me you gave me teeth,” Dustin mumbled lowly to El.

“One…”

El shrugged. “I dunno.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. 

“Two…”

Steve gave you a coy look, asking in the lowest of mumbles, “How big’s my hair?” 

You grinned like a devil, your voice lower. “Not as big as your other best trait.”

Steve lifted a very cocky eyebrow with a deepening grin.

“Three!”

Everyone turned their papers around, and a soft silence fell over you all minus a few little reactive intakes of breath.

Dustin had drawn El with a million eggo waffles in the sky around her. She looked like the most adorable cartoon character, with anime eyes and full cheeks. Her hair was shorter, the way she’d looked back in ‘83 whenever she’d returned. But it wasn’t slicked back. It was free, curly and a little wild. Her smile was innocent and childlike, and there was a policeman in the back waving. Hopper. 

El had drawn Dustin with his signature cap and his big toothy grin — which made him beam, because she did give him teeth in the drawing after all. And in this drawing, there were bubble boxes above him that read all the quotes she associated with him, like Steve! and She’s our friend and she’s crazy! and Shit shit shit shit shit!

Mike had drawn Erica into a comic strip. He showed her as just a wee tike, then at Scoops Ahoy with an ice cream cone, then playing DND. The last image of the strip showed her with her arms crossed and a triumphant smile, with a banner behind her that read Welcome to the Party.  (…as Erica looked at it, she felt the most unfamiliar warmth seep into her bones and the joyful sting behind her eyes sent her into pure shock.)

Erica had drawn Mike on his bike, riding through the neighbor with his backpack and a flashlight. His dark hair blew in the wind, and there was a thought bubble above him with little heads that resembled all of his best friends.  Above him and the thought was a quote: “Mike Wheeler: nerd, snark machine and superhero to all.”  (…Mike felt so emo, he didn’t know what to do with it.)

You had drawn Steve in a very chic sort of hot anime-like way.  It honestly looked like an actual character that existed in an anime universe.  In the drawing, Steve held his nail bat in one hand and a McDonald’s happy meal in the other.  He didn’t quite understand that part at first — until he spotted behind him, there was a Winnebago.  Six familiar faces, very stick-figure-esque, stood there waving.  You also stood there, with a quote above your head: “six-piece nuggets, coming right up.”  Steve breathed the fondest of chuckles as he took it all in, wanting to laugh and smile and cry and tackle you with his kids all at the same time.

Steve’s drawing of you was more adorable than you ever thought him capable of drawing.  You were the cutest little cartoon, backpack over your shoulder with combat boots — but you were wearing the most beautiful dress.  It was yellow, which complimented the happy blue sky behind you.  Yours and Steve's favorite colors combined.  There was a big house behind you, with seven other stick figures that looked an awful lot like Steve and your six nuggets.  And right next to you, there was a dictionary-esque definition of you:

BAUMAN (Pronounced bow•men)

A professional love-life ruiner; cute but psycho; hardcore but soft; too smart for her own good; humor darker than the dark espresso she drinks straight, because she’s a sociopath; also hotter than said cup of coffee; terrifyingly beautiful from the inside out; my mortal enemy turned favorite person; the girl who makes everything make sense; someone I can’t fathom living without, and can’t believe I ever thought I could; the love of my life, in this one and the next and so on, so long as she’ll have me.

You had never felt so full in your entire life, and neither had Steve. The two of you just stared at each other’s drawings. Grinning, glassy-eyed, chuckling, aching, filled with every ounce of joy and every ounce dread — all at once.  Neither of you could speak, but neither of you had to. Your eyes, along with his, spoke volumes. They said everything there was to say, just as much as your sketches did.

Lucas had drawn Will in a wizard’s outfit.  He held a tall, majestic scepter — with a large hat on top of his head.  Surrounding him was a large swirl of colors, whimsical and light, painting a galaxy of sorts.  And in this galaxy, there were little floating stick figures with all his friends’ names above them.  Will was smiling in the drawing, with his hands in the air and on top of the world.  Literally, because in the picture he was standing on top of a globe.

As for Will...he had drawn Lucas at a basketball game. He was scoring the winning basket, and an entire crowd cheered behind him.  All of you were there.  Will was there, next to all his friends.  You and Steve were next to each other, along with his mom, Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, Eddie, Robin and Hopper.  Even your Uncle Murray.  

And Max…that’s where Will’s drawing got unique. 

She was piggybacking Lucas, as he jumped and shot the winning score of the game, her laugh radiating through all the pens and crayons and markers that Will had used to sketch her.  She was alive, as were the rest of you.  Very much alive.

Just as you all were right now, inside one of Steve Harrington’s many bedrooms in his big house with no parents.  

No matter what doom was swiftly approaching — no matter what monsters were looming underneath the surface, and already roaming the real world — you all were together.  You had each other.

You always will.

***

Late morning upstairs has been kind to you.  It's been light.  Hopeful. 

There’s something about walking downstairs that makes the energy shift.  It sends an odd sort of chill up your spine, despite Steve’s arm draped securely over your shoulders as you wear one of his large gray hoodies with your bad arm in a sling.  You feel a certain pang in your chest as the kids follow you all down into the kitchen…but this time, it’s not because of your heart arrhythmia.

As Hopper and Joyce smile at you all in the kitchen, greeting you warmly and having prepared a table full of pancakes that had smiley faces decorated with whipped cream and chocolate chips and strawberries on top — something about the scene frowns at you.  A deep frown that you’ve seen on everyone’s faces whenever there is bad news waiting to be shared.

Your uncle is coming over to hand you a hot cup of decaf coffee, winking at you and Steve as he gives him a tight shoulder squeeze.  He’s moving past you both towards the man named Dimitri, who is walking in from the living room.  Murray brings him over to introduce you.

“Dimitri, this is my niece,” Murray grins.

You shake his hand firmly with your good arm, smiling gratefully.  “Heard a lot about you.”

“You as well,” the man says with a genuine smile, kind vibrant eyes and a thick Russian accent.  He’s definitely seen some shit.

“And this is Steve,” Murray gestures, a bit of a coy glint in his eye.  “Her boyfriend.”

Steve blushes, a soft smile gracing his features and shining through his eyes.  He wholeheartedly adores being called that out loud for the very first time: your boyfriend.

Your uneven heart skips several more beats, which typically would raise a lot of concern — but at the moment, you’re too fucking happy to care or pay it any mind.  You watch Steve flash his signature charming smile and reach out to firmly shake hands with Dimitri, who is looking back at your handsome boy with the widest grin.  The masculine exchange of lighthearted friendly words between the two men makes your stomach dance for some reason, especially as your uncle chuckles along with them.  

This is completely uncharted territory for you. Nothing about this moment is familiar.  But you could really get used to it.  It’s new.  And you adore it.

Dimitri meets the kids, who all take to him very well.  Especially El, who seems to already be familiar with him.  Likely because of Hopper.  Jonathan and Argyle are being introduced to him by Joyce, while Eddie is rounding the corner with a big stretch and yawn.  Steve shoots him a smirk as the metalhead makes his way over for a big ole bro hug, whispering something to him that makes Steve snort while Eddie grins like a devil.  Steve swats at him playfully, successfully smacking him as Robin walks in with Nancy close behind.  Steve’s quirky platonic soulmate makes her way over to you with a warm smile, swinging an arm over your shoulders so that she’s nearly headlocking you in a hug.  She’s a bit taller than you, by just a couple inches, so it gives her some upper hand.  You’re chuckling lightly, nose scrunched and tightly winding your good arm around Robin’s waist as you smile back at Nancy.  Her eyes are still sad, a bit lost.  But there’s no animosity there, at least not that you see.  She looks at you shyly, timidly…but with utter kindness.

Unbeknownst to you — Robin had suggested to Nancy that she stay with her last night in Steve’s room.  For Nancy, that had been…hard.  Necessary, but hard.  For multiple reasons.  For one thing — the last time she’d slept in Steve’s room, she had been his girlfriend. Being asleep in there 2 years later without him, now as his ex, brought back a flood of memories — bittersweet and haunting.  Being in his bed, twisted up in his sheets, felt wrong.  But she just couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jonathan that night.  Not yet.  Not after everything that had unfolded.  So Robin had stayed up talking with her, having a heavy heart to heart.  But it turned out to be exactly what Nancy needed.  Just what the doctor ordered.  Robin Buckley had unintentionally become a nurse of sorts over the last several months, and maybe even somewhat of a therapist.  Although — Argyle sort of had her beat in that department earlier that afternoon.  But he was the much simpler kind.  Whereas Robin got deep, given her innate gift at rambling until you were given no choice but to cut her off because your most honest thoughts were yanked out of you as you were made to listen to her ranting.  Nancy had cried some more, but she’d also laughed.  A comforting mixture of both smiles and frowns were shared between the two unlikely friends.  Robin wasn’t Barb, nor would any other girl be that kind of friend to Nancy.  Robin was very different from Barb.  However, her heart was just as loving.  She loved hard, and it showed.  She let Nancy pour her heart out, pouring some of her own out in return.  And somehow…somehow…it brought Nancy some newfound peace and understanding.

So as she looked at you now, having seen you come downstairs with Steve and the kids — now introducing yourselves to the new Russian house guest, and sharing a special connection with Eddie and Robin in a way that only settled couples so effortlessly did — Nancy could see something in the two of you that she’d not known Steve capable of being while she in a relationship with him.  And while she selfishly ached for her younger self who’d missed out on having that with him (and sometimes still found herself pining after), she selflessly began to feel happy for Steve.  And she even began to feel some happiness for you.  Not completely.  Not yet.  She couldn’t quite commit to making full peace with it all, given that healing takes time.  A very long time.  But as time continued to pass, which Nancy hoped you all would still be granted given the circumstances of the crumbling world, she knew that she would eventually get there.  

Murray and Dimitri were saying something funny, making Hopper and Joyce share a hearty laugh with the two of them while the kids were asking the new gentleman a million questions.  Steve made his way over to you and Robin, hugging you both — and Eddie threw his arms around all of you, resulting in fond groans and grunts from you all along with big smiles.

Nancy and Jonathan made unintentional eye contact as this happened, but Dustin shouting GROUP HUG! snapped their focus away again. The boys all bear hugged you guys while El and Erica were already pouring syrup onto their pancakes.

Eventually, you all sat down to enjoy a feast.  And while it tasted so deliciously sweet…the bitter aftertaste stemmed from looming doom that creeped just beneath the surface of your feet.  The energy shift was still felt, and despite the warmth of homemade pancakes and Steve’s hand on your thigh…your blood ran cold.

***

It was the early afternoon that finally unveiled the darker energy shift you had all been sensing since that morning, after you left the comforting quarters of your little family sleepover.

Everyone was now seated in the living room now — the way you always were, when it was time for you all to have a group meeting and listen to Hopper go over a plan of sorts or give a rundown to the household.  Except this time, Dimitri was here along with Dr. Owens.  It wasn’t like all the other times.  This was different.  Very different.

This one scared you.

Maybe they all should’ve. All these talks that centered around the end of the world. All these household meetings about the impending doom that came with said end-of-the-world. But somehow, you’d grown accustomed to them.  Comfortable.  It meant you were all still alive and that you all had something worth fighting for. And it had always meant there would be another meeting.

But there was an unsettling sort of feeling of finality to this meeting that set it apart from all the others.  And as Hopper stood with both Joyce and your uncle Murray…you felt goosebumps scatter up and down your arms and legs, regardless of Steve’s warm oversized hoodie and your leggings and socks.  Their faces were somber, a bit grim.  Murray kept his arms tightly crossed while Joyce fiddled nervously with her hands.  Even Hopper, ever the strong and firm type, looked nervous.  Maybe even afraid. 

They spoke all slowly, taking their time with why everyone was there — why Dimitri was now in the picture along with Dr. Owens — and what all needed to be discussed.  And the longer they spoke, the thicker the air got.  Tension spread around the room.  It was especially evident as none of the kids were making a sound.  They hadn’t uttered a single word.  Not one of them.  The adults had the floor, and when they asked Dimitri to stand with them, you all knew this was going to go in a bad direction.

So when they all told you the plan, looping Dr. Owens into the picture and why he not only was here for this talk — but here to stay — the gravity of the current situation landed.

You all felt your souls plummet to the deepest depths of your stomachs with a hard thud, as Hopper revealed two large whiteboards.  They both had entirely different detailed layouts…and beside each one, there were two separate lists of names.

One list of names would be at the frontlines.  The people who would be diving head first into the upside down and all of its perils. 

One list of names would be hiding out here.  The people who would maintain home base, helping operate things from the other side in the real world, while risking the chance of being found, caught and killed.

Both sides were at risk.  Both teams could die.  Both groups might not ever live to see another day, or each other, ever again.

As Steve stares at your name, along with the names of all of his kids aside from El, on the opposite whiteboard from his own name…he feels bile rising in his throat.  His stomach twists into knots, deeply tangled with unbearable anxiety and anguish.  His mind races, but his lips don’t move.  Fear paralyzes him, rendering him speechless as the adults keep talking and gesturing to the boards.  The castle on a cloud that his dreams have just began to build for the two of you, walls high and protecting you both along with his kids — his family — was drifting away from him.  And all he could do was watch it drifting further and further away, into the void, as he stared into space.

You felt his grasp on you instinctively tighten as his muscles stiffened.  Steve was rigid against your back, and you were grateful that he couldn’t see your face right now.  You were sitting between his legs on the longest part of his couch, facing the same direction as you took in the whiteboards while absorbing all the information that was being relayed to the group.  With a harsh swallow, you risked peeking at everyone else’s reactions — quickly scanning the room with your eyes.

Mike’s usually sour expression looked far more sad than it usually did.  He only ever looked like that when El was in danger, or things were spiraling out of control.  He sat on top of the coffee table with his elbows in his lap, crouched forward and staring a hole into one of the whiteboards.  Dustin’s mouth was agape, and his unusual silence was loud.  He hadn’t said a word from where he sat on the couch next to Erica.  Will sat on the other side of Jonathan, brow furrowed and heart blue.  He knew the risks being taken, and it hurt his soul seeing that he would be apart from his mom and brother.  He felt as though he always had been, ever since this all began, and it seemed to be a never ending circumstance.  Lucas was taking it all in from his seat on the leg of the couch, hands wrung and expression reserved — but defeated.  He’d really grown into a young man this past year, and he’d been taking so much in stride.  But even so, he looked conflicted.  Really conflicted.  

After taking in the kids’ reactions, your eyes swept over to Robin and Eddie.  She was seated in the giant loveseat, per usual, with Eddie perched on the arm of it.  You narrowed your eyes as you caught sight of Robin fiddling her thumbs, eyes darting up and down from her fingers to the adults with the whiteboards.  Eddie was bouncing his knee anxiously, nibbling at his fingernails — which were already bitten to stubs.  While the two of them looked to be taking this hard, the way that the rest of you were…they also seemed to be absorbing it a bit differently.  As if maybe they had a hunch about it already…

It wasn’t until Erica stood up to sit by Lucas with zero prompt that you felt slightly suspicious.  Because as she did, Robin shot a very quick tight-lipped smile in Erica’s direction with eyes that radiated sympathy.  Did they know this was coming?  Is that why Erica had come upstairs with the cookies and milk later than the rest of the kids?

You sighed through your nose, focusing back on Hopper as he gestured for Dr. Owens to stand up with them.  The older man made his way to the center of the tense room, hands dug deeply into his pockets and wearing a very sympathetic smile.

“I’m really grateful you all have put a lot of faith in me, despite everything,” he said humbly.  “Truthfully, it’s not owed.  I know that.  Still…I promise you’re in good hands with me.  Not those guys out there.  Hence why I’m here.  And I know you’d have already figured out by now if I was still working for that side of things.  Between El and Will, and all of you crazy smart folks, I’m outnumbered.”

He added a light chuckle at the end that nobody returned.  Dr. Owens sighed, taking no offense.  He knew this was not going to be taken well.

“I’m in this fight with you,” he said, stronger than how he spoke before.  There was conviction in his tone that he never really used, and it only heightened just how severe things currently were.  “If it were up to me?  None of you would be out there.  I’d be out there on the frontlines.  But…given Max’s comatose state, and Bauman’s heart condition, I know I’m needed here.  Which is just as big a risk that’s being taken out on the battlefield, because we’re staying in Hawkins as the evacuation notice and mandate goes into effect.  The city will be swarmed with government officials who are all behind this.  We’ll be surrounded from all angles.  No one is safe.”

You’re pretty sure that Steve had stopped breathing at this point, and the veins that prominently stuck out from his arms tightly wound around you made your throat close up.  

“I’ll be here to monitor Max, along with Bauman.  I’ve got plenty of medication to help steady the heart arrhythmia, and anything vital needed for a medical emergency — on anyone’s behalf, not just Bauman’s and Mayfield’s.”

“But…what happens if…”

A tight voice made everyone’s heads whip in its direction.  It was Dustin speaking, eyes wide with fear.  He wasn't being his usual cocky, overly confident self.  He looked and sounded genuinely fearful.

“…what happens if we’re caught?  What do we do?  Where do we go?”

Murray sighs, stepping forward.  “We’ve thought about that.  Right now, there’s only 2 options.  But they’re solid.  The best we’ve got right now.  One more than the other.  See, look —”

Murray went into detail about an abort-mission plan, but it sounded distorted in your ears as the gravity of the situation weighed down on top of your shoulders: you were all splitting up.  And this time might be the last time.

At some point, Mike had started to finally come to life.  His snark was returning, but even he wavered and the fear in his voice wasn’t concealed.  Hopper and El had to level with him, which only flustered Mike and caused him to stutter.  They had him beat, and he knew it.  He wanted to storm off, but Erica had told him to sit his ass down and listen.  It was so unexpected that he did as she said.  But your own brain was playing it all in slow motion.  As Will began asking questions with Dustin, you could see how Lucas had looked like he wanted to ask Erica if she might have already known something — but he didn’t.  Dr. Owens was saying something about Will being tied to the other side of things and being the assigned “El” of their group opposite of her, which fired up Mike as he demanded to know why the hell that required him to be out of the group heading to the frontlines alongside his girlfriend.  Before Hopper could even respond, Eddie was jumping into action along with Jonathan — coming to the retired cop’s defense.  That only bewildered Mike more, which fueled Dustin’s confusion into high gear as he made arguments alongside Mike.  Lucas had thrown his voice into the mix, but when Erica’s was louder — telling them all to listen, for the love of god listen, and Lucas stared at her in silent bemusement.  Will was weakly pleading with them all to please calm down, along with Joyce, who shot Argyle (of all people) a desperate look, and he made his way over to sit down next to Will and tell him it was going to be alright.

“NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS ALRIGHT,” Mike cried, angry and sad and scared in the way a child made to grow up too soon has every right to be.

“Mike, please,” Nancy’s voice trembled, her blue eyes glassy.

“Nancy, this isn’t okay!!!” Mike wailed.

“M-Mike,” Nancy stammered, her own emotions giving her a shake she couldn’t stop.  “Just l-listen to me…”

“No, you never listen to me!!!” Mike bawled.  “Never!!!”

“Hey hey, Wheeler, hey.”  

Steve finally found his voice as he reluctantly made his way to stand up away from you and approach his kid that was having an absolute breakdown.  Mike was still wailing, but as Steve approached with an unwavering look in his eye — baby Wheeler allowed for the group's assigned babysitter to actually place his hands on his shoulders and try to level with him.  Mike’s face crumbled, his words not making any sense the more he stumbled over them.  All that could be made out was something he was trying to say towards El — something about why and how could you and tell them I’m coming — which made Steve get a firm grip on his shoulders as he told him not to blame her for this.  After all, Steve had all the experience in the world as far as wrongfully placing blame on someone else was concerned…and it made your entire body ache as you watched him soothe Mike, who just bawled and mumbled nonsense in his hold.

El began to cry, too, leaning into Hopper — whose bottom lip trembled.  He bit down on it hard and willed it to stop, his eyes overwhelmed with everything that was unraveling before his eyes. 

Dustin was going back and forth with Erica, but he sounded so pitiful it made your uneven heart crack.  He kept looking over at Steve, begging him to understand.  Please Steve, please, let me go with you.  Eddie moved to immediately hold him, crushing him in more of a death grip than a hug.  The metalhead mumbled into his curly hair — not this time, kiddo, not this time.  Robin had a hand clamped over her mouth, emotions taking over as she barely managed to bite them back.

You stood up instantly, moving to hold Buckley.  She didn’t hesitate to make room for you on the seat, letting you take her in your arms as she shook like a leaf.  You gently swayed her side to side with you, murmuring quiet little words that were meant to be comforting — knowing they weren’t, but offering them anyway.

Your eyes met Jonathan’s across the room as he swayed with Will as well.  His pupils were blown, consumed with dread and drowning in pure misery, and you knew that yours weren’t much different.

Mike had buried his face into Steve’s chest at this point, and it made Nancy cry into her own palms as she curled in on herself.  

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, voice cracking at the end.  She looked at Hopper and your uncle, eyes guilty and full of shame.  “I - I’m sorry.”

Before you could even process what just happened, Nancy was barreling up the stairs.  Jonathan watched her go, panicking.  He looked at Will, then at you — eyes pleading.  You didn’t even let a second pass before you’d squeezed Robin to signal her, standing up to bring her over to where Will was seated.  You took Jonathan’s place as he went after Nancy, holding him tight as Robin leaned against you on your opposite side.  Argyle kept a kind hand on Will’s shoulder, still sitting to the other of him.  

“Steve, please, you die I die, remember?”

Dustin’s whimpered words had to have been the saddest plea you’d ever heard in your life.  Steve almost broke but before he could he flung an arm to sweep Dustin into his hold, as baby Wheeler kept bawling into his chest.  He held them both steady, letting them fall apart in his protective arms and doing everything in his power not to break down with them.  He couldn’t.  If he did, he’d failed them.  But to Steve’s dismay…he did anyway.  He ducked his head down, shaking against the two of his kids, letting himself silently weep with them.  For them. 

Lucas looked utterly heartbroken, which Erica noticed.  The youngest Sinclair cast aside all her pride, looking at her older brother with the most sympathy and love she could have towards anyone in this world, and she threw her arms around him.  He only let it shock him for a second before he held her back, a grateful silence falling over them both.  

You felt tears of your own begin to brim your eyes, but before letting them fall you looked up towards the adults…seeing your uncle first.  Murray looked back at you with every ounce of empathy and solace that could be found inside his dark soul. 

You gave him a soft nod, silently communicating with him.  I understand.  I’m sorry you had to deliver this news, but I’m here and I understand. 

And he returned the soft nod, lips pressed into a thin line but communicating back through eye contact and body language.  I love you and I hate this.  But I’ve got you.

Dimitri stood next to him, eyes somber and downcast.  He was new to the picture, but having seen the other side of things and just how bad a toll this has clearly taken on you all — he mourned for everyone’s pain. 

Dr. Owens had to sit down, unable to speak and wringing his hands.  

Hopper and Joyce held each other, along with El.  They looked at each other, devastated but steadfast.  

This plan was not open for discussion.  

This plan was not open for debate.  

This plan was final.

And so you let the tears crawl over the edges of your eyes, feeling them skate down your cheeks as you clung to Will and Robin and felt the world sit on top of your shoulders.

***

-- so as you can see, shit's getting intense. the gut-wrenching angst approaching has me overwhelmed but I'm so sickeningly happy about it. suffice it to say, Steve & Bauman are my Roman Empire and they are endgame. so if that gives you any sort of hope, given the inevitable doom that is in store for them and everyone else involved...then yay.

<3 this story forever lives on. forever and ever amen. - misha

TAGLIST (ILYSM) If I forgot you or you wanna be added, lmk :)

@aloneinthehellfire @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @Eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers Originalthingparadise Pleuviors pumpkinonice Ihaveproblemsihaveproblems Brinleighsstuff Definitelynotherr sucker-4-angst bookkeeperlove notlilyyyy @goosy-goose nevillescomslut

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 2

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1

Word count: 2255

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, teeny tiny glimpse into reader’s past, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

So, I have 3 more parts mapped out for this story, making it 5 total parts. Please, Please, PLEASE let me know if you want it!!? I would love to write it.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

Before either of you could introduce yourself, the bell rang out, signaling that lunch was over. How long had you been standing here? Looking at him, seeing him for the first time, it made time stand still.

Don’t go. Not yet.

Neither of you made a move to leave. The cafeteria was slowly emptying around you, the reality of this moment creeping in. The second bell ringing brought you out of your thoughts, you looked into his eyes again and pulled back slightly.

“Shit! I can’t be late on my first day!” You hissed.

“Oh god O’Donnell is gonna kill me!” He facepalmed.

“You have O’Donnell this hour too? Also, you seem to be late to her class a lot.” You giggled.

“You’re in O’Donnell’s right now?” He questioned.

You nodded in confirmation. A grin took over his face, he grabbed your hand and began speed walking to her classroom. As you came up to the door, he looked over at you and nodded.

“Follow my lead.” He whispered.

You walked into the classroom, and everyone fell silent. Mrs. O’Donnell looked over at the two of you, and judging by her expression, she was less than impressed by your tardiness.

“Eddie Munson. I told you that if you were late to my class one more time I would be forced to fail you.” O’Donnell croaked.

“Mrs. O’Donnell, I understand that, but I couldn’t possibly let our new student wander the halls aimlessly.” He explained.

She looked at you, awaiting some sort of confirmation. When she was met with an enthusiastic nod from you, she finally relented. She looked down at her attendance chart and took note of the new student listed on it.

“Welcome to Hawkins High. Now both of you have a seat. Don’t make tardiness a habit.” She bit.

Eddie gestured for you to go first toward the back of the room. Once seated, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You couldn’t help the blush that crept its way onto your cheeks. His stare was keeping you from concentrating on Mrs. O’Donnell’s lecture about the debates you’d all be writing and then acting out in a week. You had no clue what the topics were, and you only hoped that she had put all the information on the handout that had been passed back to you.

God you’re so cute. I am so glad it’s you.

A giant shit eating grin enveloped Eddie’s face and you realized he must’ve heard that thought. You realized that you knew his name now, thanks to Mrs. O’Donnell, but he still didn’t know yours. You decided to pull out a pen and your notebook so you could write it down for him.

You caught his attention as you scribbled your name onto the paper, making sure to add a tiny heart next to it. You folded the paper up and passed it to him. If you thought his smile had been big before, well you were wrong, because you were sure this one would split his face in two.

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

Your face immediately heated and turned bright red. You just had to make it through a few more minutes, then this class would end, and you get to really talk to Eddie before your next one. Only a few more hours and you might actually get to spend some time with him.

You had called your parents after O’Donnell’s class to let them know you’d be getting a ride home with a friend. You didn’t want to tell them that you had met your soulmate just yet, you figured you should get to know him a little bit first.

When that final bell rang you all but ran out the front doors of the school. Eddie had told you to meet him at his van. As you glanced around the parking lot you could see the cliques, jocks hanging out by fancy sports cars, theater kids sitting on the picnic tables in the courtyard, and the Hellfire boys, well, they were loitering around Eddie’s big beat-up van.

His face lit up when he noticed you, that’s when you ran towards him. As you neared closer, he opened his arms and you leapt into them. He spun you around once before letting your feet land back on solid ground.

I want to kiss you so bad.

Please kiss me.

With that, Eddie leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Eddie’s friends whooped behind you, which caused you to blush. You could see the confusion on some of their faces.

“Guys! This is her; this is my soulmate!” Eddie announced.

“Holy shit dude!”

“No way.”

“How much did you pay this girl to fake it for you?”

“Dude she’s way out of your league.”

“That’s awesome man!”

Eddie’s friends all spoke at once, it was hard to understand what any of them were really saying. But the gist of it was that most of them thought you were joking. You figured that his friends probably messed with him like this a lot, perhaps this was how their friendship was, lots of joking and messing around. Your heart hurt a little that his friends would assume you guys were lying, but you figured he’d tell you if it had upset him.

“Guys I’m serious! This is her, we met at lunch!” Eddie exclaimed.

“Hi.” You gave a small wave.

Eddie’s friends were bombarding the two of you with questions, faster than you could take in. It was pretty overwhelming, the way they were all talking over one another. Eddie was spitting out answers as fast as they were throwing questions, and your mind could not keep up.

This is…ok. Woah. Slow down. What is happening?

“Hey guys, I would love to sit and chat with you, but I think I am going to take my soulmate here out for a drive.” Eddie said, as his hand moved to your lower back, and he led you to the van.

“Thank you.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me; I could hear how anxious you were. They can be a lot, especially when you’re not used to being around them all the time.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I appreciate it either way. The whole shared thoughts thing really comes in handy!” You huffed a laugh.

Eddie put his hand out to hold your as he drove you to wherever you were going…you should probably ask him where he is taking you.

That night, you and Eddie were out well passed curfew. You had talked about nothing and everything. You shared all your favorite things, your hopes and dreams, your deepest secrets. Sharing with Eddie was easy. Talking with him was like breathing, it came naturally – you guessed that was the whole “soulmate” thing at play.

It had been one week since that night and honestly, things had been really good. Eddie picked you up for school (he had yet to meet your parents yet), you sat with Eddie and the Hellfire guys at lunch, he walked you to your classes and waited for you at his van after school.

Things were perfect…or so you thought.

Soulmates had this sort of stereotype behind them. People always said soulmates didn’t fight, that the shared thoughts sort of helped to clear things up before they escalated to a full-blown argument. Things were meant to be easy, simple even. It was the fault of this stereotype that the argument threw you off guard.

The thought had slid into your mind during your last class of the day. You were sitting in history, listening to Mr. Warner drone on and on about a war, you were too distracted to remember which one it had been.

Two pre-rolls and a small baggie of shrooms…shit I gotta meet her in 5 minutes!

What the fuck is that about? You couldn’t help the upset feeling creeping into your veins. Pre-rolls had to be weed, and shrooms? Was Eddie buying drugs? And who is the girl he is meeting to get them from? Your mind was racing with all kinds of questions, you felt guilty about being mad at Eddie, but why would he keep this from you? You two had shared so much with one another in the last week.

When the final bell rang, you took your time getting your things from your locker and then slowly made your way to Eddie’s van.

As you approached it, you noticed a severe lack of brown curls. Your stomach sank, realizing that he still must be with her…whoever she was, buying drugs.

Why would he keep this from me?

The thought had hit Eddie like a freight train. He immediately kicked himself, he knew he should have told you about this side hustle of his, but he was scared you would judge him…but now you’d found out because his thoughts are so fucking loud and he’s a total jackass for keeping it from you.

He made quick work of the deal, it had been with some random theater girl and her boyfriend wanting to enjoy their weekend.

Eddie practically ran to his van to meet up with you and he noticed the far off look you were wearing.

“Hey baby!” Eddie reached to pull you into a hug.

“Hi Eddie.” You returned his hug with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

“Let’s go for a drive yeah? I want to talk to you about something.” Eddie suggested.

“Oh, yeah, okay.” You nodded.

The two of you got into Eddie’s van and he drove you to the clearing by the lake. There was a heavy awkward silence for a bit, your thoughts just circling round and around in your head. And judging by the look on Eddie’s face, he was clearly experiencing the same thing.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Eddie started.

“Okay…” You waited.

“I realize that a thought of mine may have made its way to you. A thought that had to do with something I have neglected to share with you yet. Listen sweetheart, I uh, I deal. It’s just to make some extra cash, ya know, to help Uncle Wayne out and to save until I have enough to get the hell out of this place.” Eddie rambled on.

“Wait a second. You’re the one dealing the drugs?” You asked.

“Yeah…did you think I was buying?”

“Eddie, you sell drugs? That’s illegal! I don’t understand, you could get a different job if you want to save money. Why would you do something so reckless?” You questioned.

“Woah. What the hell. I know it’s illegal, but I’m smart about it and didn’t you hear me? I am doing this for Wayne…and for us! Dealing makes me way more money than flipping burgers at big boy or renting out movies to asshole pre-teens. You’re my soulmate, I thought you’d at least try to understand!” Eddie snapped.

“Eddie, you purposely kept this from me. Which just proves to me that you know that this is wrong. I know that other jobs may not make you as much money, but at least they’re legal and don’t run the risk of you being sent to PRISON. Because that is where you would end up if you got caught Eddie. Prison! Did you ever stop to think about what that would mean to the people who care about you. To your uncle Wayne, to Dustin, to me? How could you be so careless?” You waved your arms as you spoke, growing more and more frustrated.

“Jesus. Of course you don’t get it!” Eddie sighed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You couldn’t believe him right now.

“You were born with a fucking silver spoon in your mouth babe. You have never wanted for anything. Your parents are well off and you have always gone to good schools with new supplies and a nice backpack. I mean fuck, your parents moved you here, set up this incredible room for you, bought you a car, and still ask you what you need or want. I live in a trailer and before that, I was growing up in an even smaller trailer that my parents were doing and selling crack out of. I am doing what I have to, to make sure I am set up when it comes time for me to leave Hawkins.” Eddie was practically yelling by the end of his rant.

You sat there, your mouth opening, then closing again. You weren’t sure what to say. Eddie had clearly gone through some really difficult shit that you hadn’t been aware of, but he was also assuming that your life had been perfect, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

This conversation had truly made you feel sick to your stomach. How was this meant to work. How was Eddie meant to be your soulmate if he thought so little of you. And how were you meant to be his soulmate if you couldn’t agree with what was clearly a part of his life. You clearly had a lot to think about and you couldn’t do that right now, not with the tension that was beginning to suffocate you in Eddie’s van. So you did what you thought best.

“Take me home please.” You whispered.

[yesimwriting]

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Loss of My Life (Charles Leclerc x Female Reader)

Genre: Angst

Tribute to the release of the Tortured Poets Department album, specifically “loml”. I knew I had to write something based on it.

“You shit-talked me under the table

Talking rings and talking cradles

I wish I could unrecall

How we almost had it all”

You could call to mind, on all those different occasions that he never failed to divulge of his future plans for the two of you.

For instance, at Gerhard's Cafe, as you sat across from Charles, laughing as he shared stories from his recent trip to the Ferrari Factory. An old couple who were sitting on the next table complimented them on their chemistry, to which Charles replied with a grin, "You know, one day I'm going to marry her. We'll have a big family, five kids at least." Y/N blushed at his words, feeling her heart skip a beat at the thought of a future together.

Or at a dinner party a few weeks back, Charles and Y/N found themselves engaged in a lively conversation with a group of friends. When someone asked about their plans for the future, Charles didn't hesitate to chime in, "Oh, Y/N and I have it all mapped out. We're going to get married and have a whole football team of kids." You couldn't help but smile at him.

Or when you were walking hand in hand through a park, the two of you stopped to admire a family playing together nearby. As they watched the children run around, Charles turned to you with a soft smile, "Someday that'll be us, you know. Little Leclercs causing chaos wherever they go." Y/N hummed and leaned into him, Charles then planted a small kiss on top of your head.

Also a time during a networking event for fundraising, Charles proudly introduced you as his girlfriend. When someone jokingly asked when they were tying the knot, Charles replied with a twinkle in his eye, "Oh, it's in the cards. Just you wait, we'll have a beautiful wedding and a house full of kids running around." Y/N felt a surge of affection for him, grateful for his unwavering commitment.

Funnily enough even Charles sits down for an interview with the crew of Drive to Survive, reflecting on his career and personal life. "Charles, beyond the track, fans are curious about your personal life. Can you tell us about your relationship with Y/N?”

You saw his wide grin appeared, "Absolutely. Y/N is my rock, my biggest supporter. We've been together for years now, and I can't imagine my life without her. She's my future, you know? I've always said I'll marry her one day, and we've even talked about having a big family together. I want five, to be exact." As the camera zooms in on Charles' sincere expression.

__________________________________________

Y/N stands in the kitchen of their apartment, nervously clutching a small box in her hands. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the prank she's about to pull on Charles. With a mischievous grin, she carefully places the box on the counter and waits for him to return home from his morning run.

As Charles enters the apartment, you can barely contain your excitement. You gesture for him to come closer, heart racing with anticipation. "Love, I have something to tell you."

Charles raised his brows, his curiosity piqued as he approaches. "What is it, chérie?"

With a dramatic flourish, Y/N reveals the box. “I'm pregnant!"

For a moment, Charles is stunned into silence, his eyes mirroring in disbelief. But instead of the expected smile or any other evident of him being happy, his expression shifts to one of panic. He gripped her shoulder, "What? Are you serious?"

Y/N freezes, her heart sinking as she realizes how scared he is. She quickly tries to backtrack. "N-No, Charles, it was just a joke! I'm not actually pregnant."

But Charles' expression remains serious, his mind clearly racing with thoughts and emotions, and none seems to appear positive. He takes a few steps back, his grip on her shoulder loosening.

Charles' tone turns cold, his words cutting through the air like ice. "Don’t you ever joke about that again, we are not ready for this conversation."

The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, mirroring the dark mood between them. Y/N crosses her arms as she confronts Charles. “I’m sorry for joking about this in the first place but what exactly do you mean by that? You've always talked about marriage and having a family. What changed?"

Charles hesitates, his usually confident demeanor faltering as he struggles to meet your gaze. You yourself are scared of what emotion you might find if he looks up.

"I... I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I'm at the peak of my career, Y/N. I can't afford any distractions right now. I can't let anything jeopardize my chances."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a single tear threatening to spill over as you ponder the weight of Charles' words.

Charles' shoulders slump slightly, his own emotions raw and conflicted. "You know how much you mean to me. But... but we can't just throw everything away for a family right now. We have to focus on our careers."

Y/N shakes her head disbelievingly, hands trembling with emotion as she struggles to process Charles' words.

Charles tried reaching out tentatively, his expression pleading as he tries to bridge the distance between them. "We do have a future together, bébé. I just... I need more time. Please, try to understand."

But you can already feel yourself slipping away, heart heavy with wariness. "I need some time to think, Charles."

__________________________________________

Y/N stands on the balcony of her bedroom, the cool breeze ruffling her hair as she clutches the fake pregnancy test in her hand. She stares out at the the sea below, the waves crashing against the shore in a rhythmic pattern.

With a heavy heart, you gaze down at the pregnancy test, the plastic stick a stark reminder of the rift it had caused between you and Charles. In a moment of frustration you hurl it over the balcony railing, watching as it spirals through the air before disappearing into the depths of the sea below.

And with it, your dreams of marriage and a future with Charles.

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

THE TRADER’S DAUGHTER — cooper “the ghoul” howard x female!oc

warnings(?): dbf!cooper, female!oc, oc is described as brown eyed (but feel free to picture whatever you want), proofread to the best of my ability (correcting capitalization is not my priority on my phone, this is hard enough to format as is), this series will have smut at some point but let me work up to writing that (meaning, let me smoke this joint and see where the wind takes me), there’s allusion to smut in this towards the end but it’s nothing wild

(this is part one of some)

Daisy hadn’t seen Cooper for a very, very long time. She’d never forgotten the charismatic cowboy that told her stories of the old world and of his encounters with creatures in the wasteland. The ghoul that would bring her little trinkets from his travels, gifting her a pearl necklace for her 10th birthday. A single pearl on a dainty silver chain that she would wear every day until it wore out. She was 13 when that happened, and was utterly devastated. Thankfully, she had charmed a local boy for a new chain, sneaking behind her dad’s back to go on a few dates with the kid. She’s continue to flirt with men and make empty promises to them to replace the chain each time it broke.

Cooper had gotten himself into some thick shit, spending a good time locked up by some raiders and other bullshit that got him sidetracked. On the other side of the goddamn wasteland, on the fucking east coast. How did he even get to the fucking east coast? By the time he made it back to the trading post, over a decade had passed, and it showed in the size of the once-familiar settlement. More gambling, more fighting in the streets, whole lotta bad shit that he didn’t have time to get involved with. He made his way through the town, his gaze trained on the old trading post at the center of town. He took careful notice of how men sneered at him as he passed by them, mumbling some racist bullshit about his ghoulishness.

Fuck them, he thought as he stepped up to the door of the trading post. He opened the door to hear the old bell jingle to alert his presence, watching as a young woman walked out from the back room with a routine “Welcome to Jo’s Shack, what can I get you?” leaving her pretty pink lips.

Daisy was almost in shock, seeing the ghoul standing in her doorway. She had assumed the worst over the years, as his visits had become less and less until they were not at all. She figured he was dead, shriveled up and baking in the sun. Or worse, she worried he had gone feral, which was always going to be inevitable in his case. Either way, she would keep extra chems stocked for the day he returned.

Cooper strolled towards the counter and looked at the girl, recognizing those big brown eyes from a mile away. “Hey, little flower. Your daddy around?” He asked her, his eyes flickering down to look at the pearl around her neck. Huh, he didn’t know she’d have kept it all those years. Pretty things were hard to keep around these parts.

Daisy’s face broke out into a grin and she gave him a little nod, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Sure is, I’ll go get him for you. he’s not gonna believe this.” She had to fight to maintain her composure and keep her excitement at bay, going through the back room and up the stairs to the second floor of the shack to where her father was sleeping. In the ghoul’s absence, Daisy had grown to be a respectable trader, taking over the face of her father’s shop after growing up learning from the best. Although the population was tougher, she was just as tough, and nobody dared to fuck with Jo’s Shack or the woman running the place.

She stepped back out to the main room and leaned against the newly-reinforced counter, a bright smile on her face as she gazed up at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered, though she was never truly able to capture how his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Flower, you are just as pretty as a peach.” Cooper flashed her a wide grin, unashamedly flirting with the girl who he had essentially watched grow up. And whew, did she grow up good. He couldn’t help himself as he let his sunken eyes roam over the smooth, exposed skin of her chest, the tank top she wore under her unzipped jacket left little to the imagination.

Daisy thought his southern drawl was absolutely intoxicating as she slid a little box of chem vials across the counter to him, “Thank you, Coop. Don’t tell dad I gave these to you.” She winked and leaned back as her dad came out to greet his old friend, letting the two men greet each other like they hadn’t spent any time apart.

“Cooper Howard, you son of a bitch! I hope you brought me that Brahmin you still owe me.” Josiah grinned as he pulled the ghoul in for a hug, giving him shit over some long-forgotten wager on a card game. Coop patted him on the back with a shit-eating grin, “Yessir, why, yo’ momma’s waitin’ outside!”

Daisy watched Cooper closely as she stood beside her dad, taking in the way his skin had started to redden in places she didn’t remember being scarred over before. She had spent her whole adolescence infatuated with him, playing it off as a silly little girl crush on a big strong man (who had killed for her, but that’s a story for another day.) Her pulse quickened as she overhead her father invite the ghoul inside for a drink and to rest, watching him come around the counter to push through the curtains leading to the back.

It was fucked up, Cooper knew that. He knew it was fucked up to already be thinking about the woman behind him. Thinking about how sweet she sounded when she said his name, thinking about that little pearl necklace dangling in his face as she skillfully sat atop his—

He really needed that drink, and maybe a puff of his inhaler before he went feral at the thought of something as soft and pretty as his Daisy having anything to do with something as scarred and distorted as him.

a/n: okay yall what do we think about part one? I got to the app to post it and immediately rewrote the ending because I hated the original, so I hope this was good!

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser

[archangeldyke-all]

So I few days ago I saw this post with the still where Sevika growls at Jinx looking like she is 3 times bigger than her, and I remembered that I'm like, 4cm (1-2 inches?) taller than Jinx and Sevika would look exactly as big if I was there instead of Jinx. Which at first made me think that I'd give Sevika a piece of my mind if she screamed at me like this, but on the second thought...well, I had to be a woman enough and idmit that Sevika'd make me fucking cry.

Which leads me to: Sevika screaming at reader - mb reader is Silco's goon or smtg (preferably with the height dif to make it scarier) and R is on a verge of tears. Sevika is like, "what the fuck..." She doesn't feel bad in the moment, just shocked and lost (you're criminals, who tf would cry) R comes home and gets angry at Sev for treating her like this and gives Sev reality check the next day, which leads to Sev apologising and then being all like "did I just fucking apologise to her what the FUCK I'm the fucking second in command" but she gets so impressed she asks R out after this.

Thank you for your writings, they're genuinely my morning paper (you post when it's nighttime for me and I read your stories in the mornings). Also you honestly impacted my writing - recently I'd write a line, look at it and think, oh, this is Angel's, she'd write something like this, and it so heart-warming to me. 💕

oh my god that is so heartwarming to ME i'm CRYING!!!!! i love this idea, lets do it!!!

men and minors dni

at first, you're just a blip on her radar. a new hire of silco's, just another set of arms to help lug and count and wield vairous weapons.

you catch her eye a few times in your first weeks working for silco. you're always cracking jokes, making other goons chuckle. you make her chuckle a few times, too. she calls you out during a briefing one evening, complimenting you on your hustle at the drop earlier that day. but besides that you're nothing to her.

and then you fuck up.

it's not your fault, not really. it's jinx's. she's got an intense fondness for fire, and you'd forgotten about that fact. so when the thirteen year old asked you for a lighter, you'd shrugged and tossed her one, thinking she was gonna light some firecrackers or experiment with smoking-- normal thirteen year old things. you never thought she'd set the warehouse you're all standing in on fire.

everyone makes it out unscathed, thank god. jinx runs away with a squeak when sevika comes stumbling out of the building, covered in soot and scowling. "jinx, you fuck!" she cries. "who the fuck gave her fire?!"

you meekly hold your hand up, still coughing up the lungfuls of smoke you'd inhaled. sevika growls, then shoves your shoulder, hard. she towers over you, glaring down at you as she seethes.

"you stupid shit-- what the fuck were you thinking? i'd bet nothing at all, since you clearly don't have any fucking brains in your skull--"

sevika cuts herself off, baffled. she coulda sworn she just saw a tear fall down your cheek.

you sniffle, wiping your face quickly. sevika almost laughs. you're... crying? what the fuck?

who the hell does that? you're a goon for fucks sake-- your job description might as well be: fuck up jobs and get yelled at. and now you're crying?

sevika just stares at you, bewildered, then she scoffs, turns around, and walks away.

you think that's the end of it.

for sevika it's only the beginning.

you didn't plan on confronting her, initially. but sevika was so shocked and put-off by your reaction to her yelling, that she's been yelling more and more at you just to see if you'd react the same way.

it's been two days now, and no matter what you seem to do, sevika's two steps behind you, growling and ready to demean you.

you lose your temper when she criticizes the way you're sharpening your knives.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?!" you growl, suddenly, interrupting her mid-rant. "you make me cry and then decide, what, that you've just gotta see it again?!" you ask. she blinks, even more shocked than she was when you burst into tears. "not all of us are tough as fuckin' nails sevika! but if you think crying is crazy, you should see what i'll do to you if you keep fuckin' with me!" you shout.

sevika's never been this shocked, intimidated, and turned on all at once in her life.

she clears her throat, gulps, then speaks. "i... i'm sorry." she says.

you sigh, then nod. "it's fine." you cut her off, before swiftly walking away. she watches you go, more confused than she's ever been in her life.

did she just... fucking apologize to you? her? second in command to silco? apologizing to you? rookie goon who'd only been hired to dig graves and clean blood stains?

and why couldn't she stop thinking about you? why was she suddenly so drawn to you, muffling her laugh at every one of your jokes she overhears, her eyes drawn to you every time you're in the same room?

sevika almost throws up when she realizes she's crushing on you.

she tries to ignore it. but now that she's aware of her attraction to you, it's all she can focus on.

she goes to work, she's thinking about you.

you're in the room, she's trying to subtly get close enough to sniff your shampoo.

she's at home, she's sleeping off a hangover and having wet dreams about you.

she lasts a week before you confront her again.

"are you plotting on killing me?" you ask one evening while you and sevika lug crates of shimmer off an airship. she trips over her own feet, then looks over at you like you're crazy. you just raise an eyebrow at her.

"what makes you thi--"

"i cursed you out and ever since you've been... watching me." you say. sevika cringes. "ran's worried for me. they say it's like 'watching a predator stalk its prey.' i figured if you were gonna kill me you'd've already killed me, but. i thought i'd ask, just in case." you say. sevika chuckles, unable to help herself. you're funny.

"i'm not plotting to kill you."

"then why--"

"i wanna ask you out." she mumbles. it's your turn to trip over your feet.

"what!?" you squawk. sevika huffs.

"i dunno. i don't get it either. but you cried in fronta me-- i don't remember the last time someone i wasn't killing cried in fronta me. i couldn't stop thinkin' about you. and then you yelled at me-- nobody yells at me. not even silco. and i apologized. i think-- fuck... i think you got me hooked." she groans. you're equally shocked, pleased and amused, smiling in shock and awe at sevika's revelation.

"...so?" you ask. sevika scoffs.

"whaddya mean 'so'!?"

"so... whaddya gonna do about it?" you ask, tilting your head to the side. sevika blinks at you, then smirks.

"can i take you to dinner?"

"actual food or just liquor and smokes?"

sevika giggles-- nobody makes fun of her. but you are. and... she likes it?

"actual food. whatever you want, i'm buying." she says. you smile.

"after work tonight?"

"yes." she nods, grinning. you shrug, pretend to consider her offer, then nod.

"alright." you say.

sevika bites her lip to keep in her girlish giggle. but then you dart forward and press a peck to her cheek-- and she can't help but let it out anyways.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[doumadono]

Hiiiii! I am squeezing into your inbox to

1. Congratulate you on your achievement. You deserved it sweetheart and I am so happy for you (maybe even a lil jealous! Hihi). Keep up the wonderful work and keep bringing joy and comfort to other people!

2. To request something!

I want some Vanilla-Mango ice creams in a cup with Maple syrup.

All of this for my one and only bunny Mirko! 🐇🤍I love ya girl!

Stay awesome!

A/N: thank you so much, honeypot! Your support means everything. I hope you'll like this short piece, and please forgive me if the character isn't quite right — it's my first time writing for Bunny Hero Mirko! ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

The afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the city, painting the buildings with shades of gold and amber. You were walking through the park, lost in thought, when you spotted Mirko sitting on a bench, her prosthetic leg resting beside her. Her expression was distant, her eyes fixed on something far away.

Approaching her, you noticed the faint lines of pain etched on her face. You knew about her recent struggles with phantom pains, the cruel reminders of the limbs she had lost during the war. "Hey, Mirko," you greeted softly, taking a seat beside her.

She glanced at you, offering a small, weary smile. "Hey, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

"Is everything alright?" you inquired, concern coloring your words as you noticed the faint lines of strain etched upon her face.

Mirko sighed, her gaze returning to the horizon. "Just another rough day, I guess," she admitted, her fingers tracing the contours of her prosthetic leg. "The phantom pains have been acting up again."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Rumi. That sounds really tough."

She looked at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "It is," she admitted. "It's like… I can still feel them, you know? My missing arm and leg. Sometimes, it's like they're still there, and it hurts so much…"

You squeezed her shoulder gently, offering your support. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for you. But I'm here for you, okay? You're not alone. You never were, sweetie."

Mirko's eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch, finding solace in your presence. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

You hurried to a nearby store to grab two bottles of water and some mochi. When you returned, you paused behind a large tree, watching Mirko.

She was someone you deeply admired, one of the few people who truly inspired you. Her toughness was unmatched, and secretly, you yearned to possess even a fraction of her spirit, to be as brave as she was. She was your role model.

You spent the rest of the afternoon with Mirko, talking, laughing, and sharing stories, sitting on that bench. You listened as she opened up about her fears and insecurities, her dreams and aspirations. And through it all, you were there for her, offering words of encouragement and comfort.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, Mirko turned to you, her eyes shining with gratitude. "You know," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "even on my darkest days, knowing that I have you by my side makes everything a little bit brighter."

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with warmth. "And you make everything brighter for me too, Mirko. You're strong, resilient, and incredibly brave. I admire you so much."

Mirko's smile widened, and she reached out, taking your hand in hers. "Thank you," she said softly. "That means the world to me. After Jaku and the war, things really shifted," she said, her brow creasing slightly. "It's not like it broke me, but I've been feeling more uncertain. About everything, really. Even my own abilities."

You met Mirko's gaze with a gentle smile. "Rumi," you began softly, squeezing her hand in reassurance, "you have no idea how many lives you've touched with your bravery. In the chaos of Jaku and the war, you were a beacon of hope for so many. Every leap you took, every punch you threw, they weren't just acts of courage — they were beacons of light in the darkness for all those who lost their hope. You saved countless lives with your unwavering determination and your indomitable spirit. Never doubt your abilities, my dear Rabbit Hero Mirko," you urged gently, your words a steadfast anchor amidst the uncertainty. "You are a hero in every sense of the word, and the world is a brighter place because of you. The echoes of your courage will never fade."

Mirko leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tinged with emotion. "I think that's exactly what I needed to hear today."

[dsireland86]

Take Me First PT. 2 (Never Know)

"Lying Is Hard But The Truth Comes Out Anyway" The Grey

A regretful mistake, a car accident, and a baby. God didn't listen to Noah when he begged him to take him first the night of the accident. God had other plans it seemed; plans that brought Noah down to his knees cursing, crying, and praying. In time he began to believe he was nothing but a lost soul trying to find his happiness in the ugly world he lived in, until... she found him and began to return the lost parts of him, piece by piece, he'd thought he'd lost forever.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the long awaited 2nd part to a story that was never meant to have a second part. But I'm very thankful to friends who encouraged me and highly suggested that I write one. I love how I came to tie this cherished story that began with three words from a song into my main two stories. It took some brainstorming, but in the end I don't think it will disappoint. To the ones I've tagged and were expecting the second part, I hope it's what you hoped it would me. Let me know!

TAGS: @lma1986, @myownthoughts12, @xslavicprincess, @foliosgirl, @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon, @jilliemiw86, @sthnog, @lookwhatitcost

Never Know

    “Show me you're better off without me/ Choking on every word you said, we'll see, we'll see / Don't breathe another word about me I'll leave and you can finally rest in peace, we'll see”

          The Letter She Never Meant To Send

Noah,

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. You have to understand that it's better for both of us this way, if I just vanish from your life and wipe your slate, your consciousness completely clean. Once you're finished with this letter I guarantee you will hate me and loath just the thought of me. My name will become a bitter poison on your tongue and the tongues of those who will no longer be my family because of their loyalty to you. You'll never want to breathe my name let alone any other words about me to anyone. I'm warning you now, Noah, what I'm about to tell you is going to ruin you. It's going to break your heart so badly you're probably going to wish you were dead. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm doing this to you, but it's the only way. You have to know the truth about what happened during those three days in Montana on that last tour we were on together; you deserve to know, because it was the moment that everything changed for us. You're better off without me and in time you'll see. In time you'll be able to rest in peace. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

“I didn't want to finish the letter. Knowing she was already gone was enough, and reading it, having it spelled out in front of me would’ve only made things worse. But I chose to finish it anyway but regretted the instant I did. I swear I could feel myself slowly slipping away as her words started to bring out the worst in her that I never knew existed."

I rested my forehead against the back of her shoulder.

“I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you were feeling. Being abandoned is hard, but the lonely place it takes you too is worse.” “You would know, wouldn't you,” I said while playing with her fingers. She leaned back against my chest while sitting between my legs. Turning her head at just the right angle she glided the tip of her nose softly along my jawline that filled with a deep yearning to be inside her again. “Not the same way you do.” I shivered when her lips left a trail of soft kisses on my skin. “Read me more, please. I want to know everything,” she urged. I sighed, and even though I really didn't want to, I knew sharing this part of my life was important for us. So, I continued.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lying in between the memories choking me, and I don't know which way to go, but I'm okay to never know”

The night you told me the truth about cheating on me, it broke me, but not in the way you might think. I was angry, full of guilt, relief, sorrow, and regret that created a huge mess of emotions I didn’t know how to deal with. Running was my only option. I had to escape the pain of knowing how horribly I'd hurt you and you didn't even know it. Noah, you were brave enough to be honest with me about what you did. You admitted your guilt and how ashamed it made you feel. You truly believed you'd hurt me and watching the way it tore your mind and heart apart left me in agony. I wanted to tell you the truth then, but I just couldn't bring myself to, so I took the coward's way out and ran away. 

I called Jolly and cried to him. He didn't understand anything I was saying let alone an idea of what I was talking about, but he did his best to console me anyway. The guilt I felt, knowing what I’d done to his best friend just made everything numb and blur together and with the way I was driving I didn’t see the headlights of the other vehicle in my lane. Jolly was still on the phone when I screamed right as the collision happened. That was the last thing I remembered before I woke up in the hospital. So, what is the truth that was too hard for me to tell you even though I was given the chance to say many times? Noah, I hope you're sitting down, because what I'm about to say is going to be the death of whatever peace your mind had about me.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

“Noah?” Her soft voice calling to me made me lower my head and when her hand collided with my cheek, her touch brought me back to reality. The past wasn't real, but she was, and so was the feeling of her naked body against mine. Turning herself around so that her legs were on either side of me and her arms were resting on my shoulders, she leaned in and kissed me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth little by little. She was making me so hard and I knew she could feel me between her legs, pressed tightly against that sweet soft spot of hers I loved so much. I couldn’t control the constant twitching that was happening each time she purposely pushed herself into me either.

"She knew exactly what she was doing to you and that’s what hurt you the most. I'm sorry she hurt you,” her voice whispered in my ear before she took a little bit of it in her mouth. “Ughh, fuck baby,” I moaned, squeezing her hips tighter and tugging her closer to me. “That’s what happens,” she said, brushing her breast up against me, her perky nipples grazing across my skin, making it scream. “You let people in and they destroy you. But I won’t.” She sat back and looked at me, the look in her eyes nearly making me cum. She had me wound up so tight that I swallowed hard when she pushed herself into me again and her warm, shaky breath washed over my face. “You deserve so much more than you believe you do, Noah.” Slipping her hands beneath the waistband of my box-briefs, I lifted my bottom up and she slid them down my legs, tossing them aside, retaking her spot over me. “I’ll give you the world, if you want it,” she admitted, laying her mouth on mine and taking my lips to hers as if she owned them; she did. “The moon, the fucking stars. Anything you ask, it’s yours. I’m yours. You can have all of me,” she confessed through a shaky, tear filled voice.

I pulled her way to look at her and my heart felt like it had busted through my chest. She had tears streaming down her cheeks, but the prettiest smile on her lips. I sat up and kissed her tears away tasting their saltiness. “I want all of it,” I admitted, brushing some hair out of her face. “I want all of you, but not just what you let the world see. I want all the broken, busted up parts too; the parts that make you, you. I meant it when I said I would fight the battle for you. I would, I still will. If I have you, then you have all of me too.” She started to cry and I pulled her into me as she laid her head on my shoulder. I fucking loved this girl in my arms more than I ever thought possible. More than the girl in the letter, and that scared me.

After a few moments of silence had passed and I was about to continue reading, the warmth from her hand found my hard cock. Slowly she  ran her hand down my shaft, then back up, the grip she had applying the perfect pressure needed to stimulate what I was dying for on the inside. I laid my head back against the couch, zoning into nothing but the feeling of what her hand was doing. The faster she went the harder her grip became and reminded me of what being inside her felt like; heaven. I found her entrance between her wet folds and quietly slipped a finger inside her warm sex enjoying the way she melted into my touch and sucked in a quick breath, followed by a beautifully moan that filled the room. I felt her wetness coat my fingers, making me feel like I had all the power over her I wanted. The truth was though, she was the one with all the power. “I need to be inside you, now.” I ordered. She didn't hesitate to obey but instead shifted enough so that her pussy was aligned perfectly with my hard length.

“Noah, look at me,” she commanded and I listened. Her eyes were vibrant and full of something indescribable, something that I could never put into words; but I felt it and I knew she did too. “I fucking love you.” It slipped out before I could stop myself and I was scared I crossed a line. But her smile took that feeling away. It was genuine, and made me feel the exact way, if not more, I felt when I first saw her. “I love you too; all of you.” She pushed into me and took all of me into her and I watched her expression change as soon as I filled her. Her tight, wet walls closed in on my throbbing cock now buried deep inside her, searching for that special spot that was going to pull all the pretty cries and moans from her that I loved to hear. I gripped her hips, sighing once she began to move slowly, with her hands placed firmly on my chest. But I wanted more and I knew she did too. “I want you to grind on me, baby, ride me till you're satisfied. Ride me till you cum.”

That seemed to be all she needed. Soon I had her crying and moaning so loudly that she dug her nails deep into my skin, squeezed me tighter with her thighs, and let my name fall from her lips like a sacred prayer. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. She pulled my hands to her small breasts, indicating to me she wanted stimulation and I all too willing obliged her. I took each nipple between my finger and thumb, squeezing them until she cried. Once hard and perky, I dragged my tongue lazily over the soft, delicate skin, circling and lapping every part until taking it in my mouth. Her moans pulled my organism closer and I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Luckily, I didn't have too. Her hands found the back of my head, holding me in place while she fucked me slow and gently and I got her off by sucking my favorite parts of her. “Noah, baby,” she didn't finish her sentence, but she didn't have to. I looked up, grinning at the face I saw. With eyes closed, she was in perfect ecstasy. “Are you gonna cum for me, Princess.” She didn't say anything, just moaned and nodded. “Cum for me then baby, let it go and give us both what we want.”

Her lips crashed into mine and our tongues danced as she came undone all over me and I quickly followed. It wasn't loud, it wasn't messy; it was just us, falling apart for one another together quietly. It was love making in its purest form and in that moment with her I realized the difference between straight fucking with foreplay and making love and how they were very different. We weren’t each other's first. She had a fucked up ex and I had many experiences that left me feeling used. But what she and I had just shared had so many emotions involved, ones that I didn't even know I could feel anymore. She pulled them out of me somehow and allowed me to willingly feel what I had buried away. They were tangled together, knotted and rooted in the dirt of my past. But, thanks to the beautiful human in my arms, for the first time in my life I felt the difference and wasn't afraid to feel them. She made me feel so fucking alive and I loved it. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Speaking in languages we can’t read, no need for you to spell it out for me/ Swallowed up and I’ spit you out, like a drug that just wouldn’t stay down"

Montana was beautiful, Noah, and the idea of visiting it with you was a dream come true. I'll never forget when you came home and told me that it was on the list of states the band was playing. Your excitement was contagious and the way your eyes sparkled and lit up your entire face will forever haunt me. It was one of the last times we were truly happy together. Those three days haunt me, Noah. They hold the worst, but also the best memories. So here it goes… the whole truth.

The first show day went smoothly; you remember I'm sure. We all went out and had a small celebration in that little country bar where Folio rode the mechanical bull until he bled… like seriously bled. I thought I was going to pass out seeing all the blood from his arm. The day of the second show, however, was utter chaos and hell. Everyone woke up late, the venue wasn't unlocked when we got there, and some of the equipment malfunctioned. You were miserable and because you were miserable, so was everyone else. I tried to help, but now know how worse I actually made it for you. And the moment you yelled at me in front of not just the crew but the guys too, I knew things were going to be different between us. It wasn't that you yelled at me, Noah, it was what you said that was the slap to my face. You accused me of being selfish and too self conceited to understand what you were going through, and you know what? You were right. I was, I am those things. And to prove I was, I decided to get back at you in my own way; the way I regret now more than anything. 

After storming out of the venue and turning my phone off, I found a bar away from the venue, away from every memory of you. I wanted you out of my head, but mostly out of my heart because I was hurting. So, the first guy who sat down next to me and bought me a few rounds was it. He was the one I chose to make my biggest mistake with. He took me back to his hotel room, which ironically was in the same hotel as ours, you were just one floor above me. I was too drunk to worry about anything, not even caring if the receptionist recognized me. 

Noah, I will save you the details of what I did with that man in that hotel room that night. It wasn't at all what I thought it would be, and in the end he left me hurting way more than when I started out. Not just emotionally, but physically too. Thankfully there were no marks on my body, yet, but the bruises would show the following day. I lied and said you did them to me and the look on your face was devastating. I felt like a piece of shit. Maybe I was. No, I know I was. I should burn in hell for what I did to you; what I said to you. You didn't deserve it. But the worst was yet to come when the events of the night you fucked some girl who wasn't me happened and you found out I was pregnant. Nicholas said at first you were too shocked, but when it was time for me to leave the hospital, Matt said it was all you could talk about; how you were going to be a dad and how you had so much faith that the baby would be the thing to tie us back together after your actions ruined us. It wasn't you who ruined us, Noah, it was me, but I couldn't tell you that. Not now. Not with a baby on the way. So, I kept my silence and avoided you as much as I could, using your cheating as the excuse. And I lied to you every day up until… well you know when. 

Losing the baby was never, ever the intention, that, I promise, you can believe. I never wanted any harm to come to my baby. But when I woke up last month at seventeen weeks pregnant in a pool of blood, I knew it was over. The lies could stop, the truth could come out and everything would be okay. Except it wasn't, was it? Losing the baby was too hard for you. It made you do things you regret doing and I regret watching, knowing I had the power to stop it all. I know the feeling of loss is still very raw in your heart. You're wounded and reading this letter, knowing I'm long gone, soon to be nothing but a distant memory you'd do anything to forget, is going to throw salt on that wound, but I think it's time for me to help you put your demons to rest. 

Noah, the baby…. the baby was never yours to begin with. I mean, honestly, think back to the first time we had sex after that fight. Think…. and you'll remember. If you don't let me help. You wore a condom, Noah and you filled it, but I lied to you and told you it broke because I was scared. The night I spitefully killed us in every way possible was the night I conceived another man's child. 

So, you see, none of it was your fault after all. It was mine all along. Did I feel guilt? Yes. Remorse? No. Not until now. Now that I’m walking away from you, I feel every bit of remorse possible, but it’s too late now, isn’t it. The you I knew and loved is gone and so is the girl you knew. And that’s the difference between us, Noah. You felt remorse and it made you so vulnerable. 

I hope the next girl you fall in love with is good to you. I hope she is never afraid of your darkness or the demons who dance in your eyes sometimes. I remember the time when you thought no one could ever love you if you revealed what lurks inside you. You’ve always been different, Noah, you know that and how could anyone understand that? But I hope she understands and is never afraid to follow you into your darkness so that she can learn to love the beast that’s inside. I tried to, but in the end I realized that sometimes, true love comes in the form of a loving demon, or a protective monster, or even a dark angel who sits and waits patiently for you to arrive. You are all those things Noah; and I hated you for it. I’m sorry I hated you, because now I know that you were the only one to ever, truly love me. 

                                     With All My Love, Always

                                                    Sarah

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Noah:

I woke up, flat on my back, head off the pillow, but the blanket over top of me. As my vision cleared, Sophie was nowhere to be seen. My heart started pounding, thinking maybe she regretted last night; the things we did, the things I said. Was it all too much and she felt pressured or overwhelmed? I started to panic, running my hands over my face, trying to convince myself everything was okay, but it didn't help. I sat up, looking around for my shirt only to remember that I'd used it on Sophie, making me remember the corner I threw it in; it was still there.

I needed to find Sophie and make sure everything was good between us, especially now that she knew the truth about me and Sarah. I needed to know if she was still willing to commit herself to me, to us, with this kind of baggage attached, but first I needed a shower. My stomach suddenly hurt, the anxiety nipping away on the inside and it felt like there was a giant hole in me. I needed to fill that hole. I need my girl.

[chaifootsteps]

Chai do you think any of the spindlehorse employees find it weird that their boss doesn’t seem to comprehend what Quid Pro Quo even is? Maybe some have expressed it to you, who knows. And needs it explained to her that sexual misconduct in the workplace is bad, not funny, it’s not tragic just for the abuser cause he’s lonely, and isn’t a good basis for a “soulmates” relationship? Did anybody animating Look My Way not have a moment of clarity ‘hey this plot is a little disgusting actually’ ?

Also. Wow. Helluva boss’ “romance” story is actually so toxic that it’s the reason I learned the term for this type of sexual abuse and how to recognise it in the workplace. It’s (unintentionally) told with the type of subtlety Valentino and Angel Dusts story needed. Moments of kindness but also immediate backhanded remarks, power plays, grand romantic gestures mixed with scathing ones and physical boundaries pushed, and just overall confusing behaviour. Like the constant whiplash when stolas appeared in truth seekers. The victim doubting their own memory and his friends saying it’s all in his head.

For others though, younger audiences who love gay ships in any media just for the sake of it being gay, it’s just conditioning them to see it as quirky or the responsibility of the victim to “set the record straight” and negotiate out of sex.

People are actually using it as an example of what coercion is when asked what it is, and many people say it’s taught them how to recognise abuse in their relationship. This is what “stolitz” could have been. A cautionary tale. Stolas and Valentino guilt tripping their employees using various tactics is also educational. Funny enough, if this show gave a damn about its audience that would’ve been a scene in the show, Blitzø convinces himself he’s just in “love” and even with even Millie backing this up, naively finding it cute (being a meta stand in for shippers who don’t really pay attention) Moxxie in discomfort smiles a and says nothing out of fear, and then Loona shows him a info website that even has the term “quid pro quo” in writing for the audience to see and sits down to explain to him he is very much experiencing Stockholm syndrome and abuse. Hell, this crystal thing is just the ‘flowers and chocolates’ part of the abuse cycle.

And I don’t want to go there again but the fact Viv projects onto stolas and Brandon relates to Blitzø a lot when writing him, and the fact Viv shoe horned in that romance in a way he wasn’t in a position to object to since she’s the showrunner? Eerily similar to the characters in universe power dynamic? Yeah that’s a little nightmarish.

Oh lord, remember those days when we all thought that that's exactly where all of this was leading...Blitz being hit with the realization that he is to his employees what Stolas is to him?

Seems like a lifetime ago now.

[loveyourownsmiilee]

Hello :) I’m not used to asking questions on here but I’m just curious and I coupdn’t stop myself. How do you think they can turn this whole season the way so it has nothing to do with Buddie. Because since the first episode of season 7 they’ve been writing their lines with kind of a deeper meaning, in a way that can be understood like a foreshadowing in them going canon (like the whole jealousy plot where Buck is still so obviously confused to what/who he wanted, Tommy’s „MY attention?”, the coming out scene when Buck says he’s relieved and he looks anything but). I have my clown shoes on and I don’t see how they can end this season without giving us a hint at Buddie (my guess is Buck will have some kind of feelings realisation about Eddie) but knowing what they did to couch theory and other times where they crushed shippers hopes showing only their friendship and nothing more I’m trying to brace myself for another dissapointment. Like, we are all just so sure about Buddie, but what if the writers throw another curveball at us? And what could that curveball possibly be? Anyways, hope you have a nice day! 😊

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to send me a question! I’m always happy to answer 🥰

Here’s the thing, the last two seasons were all weird bc we had another show runner who point blank made it clear she wasn’t on board with Buddie being romantic in any way. She legit called that will reveal scene platonic and said it’s normal for best friends bc her mother and her female best friend did the same thing. She was allergic to queer people. We have the return of show runner who was the original show runner. He was always pro Buddie even if he never point blank said so. This man killed off Shannon bc he knew the fans were angry with her for leaving her child. He liked a tweet that said Shannon was Eddie’s beard. He’s been proactively and consistently sharing Buddie content before the season even started. Also talking about how much he enjoys Buck and Eddie’a dynamic and is going to try to hit that in every episode. The first episode was very much a reintroduction and what did they do? They showed Buck, Eddie, and Christopher as a whole ass family unit. They made it clear to everyone tuning in that those three are a family together.

Now I think the reason Eddie is soooo heavily intertwined with Buck’s scenes is bc it’s intentional. I also am under the impression, as I’ve said many times recently, that Tim not only spoke to Oliver earlier in the season about his plans, but also Ryan. There’s a deliberate reason as to why Oliver and Ryan are actively promoting this season together. I will die on this hill that Ryan is fully aware. And we had that confirmed when Lou pretty much said it was originally supposed to be Tommy and Eddie but things didn’t work out. So what that actually tells me is that Tim has plans to make BOTH Buck and Eddie queer. And he’s going with Buck first but will eventually get to Eddie. They already planted massive seeds in 7.05 by bringing up religious guilt and all that talk about Eddie’s Catholicism. It’s happening and that is a far better way to tell Eddie’s story than him being kissed by a man randomly. So I just, idk even with this new interest in Buck and Tommy, I truly don’t think it’s something that will divert the writers and show runner from their original plans, I should hope not. They can’t dismiss 6 years of development for a new love interest especially when said love interest is a literal copy of Eddie. So I don’t think they’ll switch gears and I think we’re on the same page as to what is coming up for them. Literally the fact that they made Buck bi confirms to me that Buddie is inevitable.

[bulkyphrase]

2012 Avengers Tower: a fic rec list

I think we all sometimes yearn for the days when we thought Marvel would let the Avengers be friends who all lived together and fought supervillains in between movie nights.

Though these stories weren't all written or set in 2012 post-Avengers 1 era, but they all feature that team hanging out, having fun, and supporting each other through difficulties.

The list is in chronological order, with fic published from 2012 to 2024.

Amateur Theatrics by galaxysoup (@galaxystew-zombie) (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 26,586 words | Published April 01, 2012)

Summary: In which Thor’s primary problem-solving method (a mighty blow from Mjolnir) fails to have the desired effect on a magical artifact, and his secondary method (a mightier blow from Mjolnir) proves to be actively disastrous.

Big in Japan by gunboots (@gunboots) (Loki/Thor, Stucky | Teen And Up Audiences | 6,203 words | Published May 01, 2012)

Summary: Steve hesitantly reaches out and takes the object in Tony’s arms to survey it. 'It' being a pillow upon which was an almost frighteningly accurate illustration of Loki, their on-and-off again nemesis. "I don't--how did you even get this? Who would MAKE this?" Clearly Steve doesn't find the attention-to-detail on Loki's costume as hilarious as Tony does, which whatever. Like he said. Killjoy. A.K.A The one time Tony buys Thor the world's worst souvenir and it somehow worked out in the end anyway.

The rest are below the cut!

Soft Skills by Lady_Ganesh (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 4,154 words | Published May 31, 2012)

Summary: "So," Bruce said carefully. "You're saying that your tower became a big target for an alien army, so you're going to rebuild it as an even bigger target?" "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid," Tony said. The team tries to bring Steve Rogers into the 21st Century. It mostly works. As my beta CaptainBlue said: Also I love how you did a fic about Avengers team building and still managed to make it 100% about Cap. You have a gift. This is why I love her. Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Without the Usual Cost of Labor by vain_glorious (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 6,387 words | Published June 15, 2012)

Summary: "Someone just reported to SHIELD that whatever was stolen produced “viable offspring,” and we’re hoping that doesn’t mean what we think it does,” Bruce says, evidently deciding to take over for Tony after only one masturbation joke. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass

The Great Avengers Body Swap by vain_glorious (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 3,712 words | Published July 23, 2012)

Summary: Loki and the Avengers spend a month in SHIELD's detention cells, because Loki cast a bodyswapping spell against them and got himself with it, too. Also available as a podfic read by blackglass

The Ice in Windless Cold by Isagel (@isagelc) (OT6 | Explicit | 11,883 words | Published August 19, 2012)

Summary: "I dream about the ice," Steve says. "About being in the ice." Also available as a podfic read by susan_voight

Private Bookmark? by storiesfortravellers (Gen | Mature | 2,638 words | Published August 24, 2012)

Summary: The Avengers discover that there are fans who write explicit RPF fic about them. Some of them are very confused. Some are proud. Some don't understand why everyone writes the pairings who aren't together but hardly anyone writes the couple who actually is together. Much silliness ensues. Also available as a podfic read by analise010, AshesandGhost, dapatty, fire_juggler, lorcalon (uniquepov), Opalsong, Weebs813

The Goat's Back by arsenicarcher (Arsenic) (Gen | Mature | 10,155 words | Published November 30, 2012)

Summary: An AU where Steve's essentially a failed experiment, corporal punishment is the predominant form of discipline and team leaders take the punishments for those under them.

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (@pollyrepeat) (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 4,221 words | Published March 31, 2013)

Summary: The most annoying parts of being de-aged (and then re-aged) are your friends. Also available as a podfic read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton)

What We Pretend To Be by ifitwasribald (Gen, Bruce Banner/Tony Stark | Explicit | 100,697 words | Published July 14, 2013)

Summary: Good becomes great, bad becomes worse. But people are a hell of a lot more complicated than good and bad. When half of the team is dosed with the super soldier serum, they all have to grapple with their own pasts and futures. But for better or for worse, they’re all in it together.

Speak So We Can Hear Your Heart Beat by Jaune_Chat (@jaune-chat) (Gen, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Jane Foster/Thor | Mature | 15,402 words | Published November 10, 2014)

Summary: The Avengers are rendered mute by Amora the Enchantress. As a search for a cure grows more and more dim every day, the Avengers have to deal with the reality of learning to communicate with each other in a whole different way. Uncertain if they'll be able to fight again, they enlist the help of their friends, and learn some surprising things about each other as they struggle to hold onto their identities as the World's Greatest Heroes.

The Health Benefits of Knitting by Niobium (@niobiumao3) (Gen | General Audiences | 1,179 words | Published January 15, 2015)

Summary: Clint isn't sure what's really relieving Natasha's stress—the knitting, or the part where she foists the horrible results off on other people. Also available as a podfic read by reena_jenkins (@reena-jenkins)

Clint Barton's Guide to Friends and Ceiling Vents by NoliteTimereEos (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 6,488 words | Published July 11, 2015)

Summary: In which Clint Barton meets a missing assassin in the vents and somehow becomes friends with him. Things don't go as bad as they could have. Also available as a podfic read by babbling_bedlamite

How to Train Your Superheroes by StuckySituation (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 3,150 words | Published March 05, 2019)

Summary: “But of course, no matter how much we practice on schedule, we will need to learn constant vigilance and manage to get our reaction times down to the minimum,” Steve continues and takes the last burger beef from the grill and puts it onto the table next to him. Natasha has a brief millisecond to frown and think “Constant vigilance?”, before Steve kicks the grill so hard that the coals rain on top of the flammable carpet feet away. “What the hell-!?” “STEVE!?” Steve is already sprinting towards the ledge. “First training session started! Wanda, Sam, Tony - someone CATCH ME!” Then he jumps off the Tower. Also available as a podfic read by vassalady (@vassalady)

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (@galaxythreads) (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 11,022 words | Published April 25, 2020)

Summary: "Dragr," Thor called them. "Demons" Clint had said. "Thieves" is what Steve labels them as. AKA, the one where Steve is captured by creatures that feed off of happy memories, and the team is left to pick up the pieces. Post-Avengers.

5 Times Steve Dealt with His Team's Sleeping Habits... by The67ImpalaDragonChild (@dragonimpal67) (Gen | Teen And Up Audiences | 29,606 words | Published November 08, 2020)

Summary: ...and one time they dealt with his. Steve didn't think anything of it when he moved into the Avengers tower. He didn't think about how much the people he's living with would affect him. He's thinking about it NOW! Who knew a bunch of super heroes could be so weird about something as basic as the need to sleep?

on the mend by meidui (@meidui) (Gen | General Audiences | 1,438 words | Published February 03, 2024)

Summary: Steve rarely feels this awful after a fight, but then again, he hasn’t been on a solo mission in months.