#lets ignore that ive been too busy to write here

[amongthevipers]

SHIPPING CALL! i want ships, you want ships. let's make this happen. like the post.

[mssalo]

masterlist - mssalo

Welcome!

I write a mix of content, including dark themes and smut, so please make sure to always check the warnings before reading each fic. Some stories may explore darker topics, and those will be clearly marked with appropriate content warnings.

18+ ONLY.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

dirty - smut, hotgirl!reader x desperateold!joel

here

You just bought a new house that needed a lot of work. Luckily, your grumpy old neighbor was more than happy to fix everything—not because he was generous, but because it gave him an excuse to be close. To look. To stare. And you? Love the attention.

ma'am - smut, sub!joel

here

Joel Miller’s spent a lifetime in control, but under your confident lead, he’s discovered just how good it feels to let go. As your right-hand man in Jackson, he’s desperate to please, finding himself worshiping you in ways he’s never dared before—and loving every filthy second of it.

after hours - smut, sub!joel (part two of ma’am)

here

Joel Miller has been yours for a month now, and while things between you are steady, Jackson’s demands have kept you too busy for his liking. Missing you fiercely, Joel decides to pick you up after a late night, only for his mood to sour when Paul monopolizes your time. What starts as a simple check-in turns into something much more when Joel finally gets you alone or well... the other way around.

· · ─

fixation - smut

here

You have an oral fixation, and Joel is more than happy to keep your mouth busy.

· · ─

taste - smut

here

You've slowly chipped away at Joel's gruff exterior, turning his frowns into smiles. One night, your playful teasing leads to something more, and when Joel finally gives in, the intense passion between you two becomes impossible to control.

· · ─

hummingbird - smut, dark

here: I  II

In the quiet town of Jackson, Joel becomes consumed by an obsession with his new neighbor. What begins as fascination turns into something much darker as his protective instincts morph into possessive desires, blurring the line between safeguarding and owning her.

· · ─

safety - smut, dark

here: I  II III IV V

Joel’s life is built around control and keeping danger at bay. But when a sweet young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. His obsession with keeping her safe quickly spirals into something darker.

· · ─

worship - smut, bestfriendswife!reader

here part two

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

· · ─

access - smut, husband!joel

here

You and your husband, Joel, share a deep understanding - your body is his, to fuck and taste whenever he desires, without question or hesitation.

· · ─

debt - smut, darkish!joel

here

Joel saved you, and now you depend on him for survival. But after one mistake too many, he demands you repay him-with your body.

You owe him, and he's done keeping you safe for free.

· · ─

dirty old man - series, smut

caretaker!reader x oldman!joel (a lot of new smut will come with this duo)

dirty old man - the beginning

dirty old man - the doctor’s office

dirty old man - on your knees

dirty old man - sleeping

dirty old man - field trip

dirty old man - cane (request)

You were assigned as Joel Miller’s caretaker, but he’s a perverted old man who just can’t keep his hands off you. And the truth is, you don’t mind one bit—in fact, you want more.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[sunshineangel0]

save a horse...

pairing- cowboy!lee minho x city girl!reader genre- strangers-to-Lovers Vibes, cowboy au, humor, fluff word count- 1.6k warnings- explicit sexual content, oral (f. receiving), sex (protected), public-ish setting, language, hay? (yeah, there’s hay.), light dominance, dirty talk, praise/degradation mix, fluff too a/n- ive been watching twisters too often folks and done and dusted series has me in a chokehold sooo. also, sorry if the spicy scene is a little rushed though 😭 im no professionl in writing those

You hadn’t planned on spending your summer knee-deep in dirt and attitude, but here you were—boots borrowed, suitcase dusty, and a sunburn threatening to ruin your entire vibe. The ranch sat somewhere between nowhere and "you’re lost," and every minute you spent on it was a reminder that your cousin’s destination wedding came with a catch: help out at her fiancé’s family ranch for a week, or don’t come at all.

Which is how you met him.

Lee Minho.

Tan skin. Smirking mouth. Hands in his back pockets like he had all the time in the world—and knew you didn’t.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

You glanced down at your overpriced sneakers and back at him. “Wow. What gave it away? The lack of hay in my hair?”

He grinned, slow and wicked. “That, or the way you looked at the horse like it just insulted your mom.”

You narrowed your eyes. “It tried to bite me.”

“It sniffed you.” “Same thing.”

He chuckled and pushed off the fence he’d been leaning against. The denim on denim should’ve looked ridiculous. It didn’t. “Name’s Minho. I’m in charge of making sure you don’t die out here.”

“That’s comforting.”

“You’ll live.” He walked past you, then tossed something over his shoulder. “If you can keep up.”

You should’ve ignored him. You should’ve rolled your eyes and gone back to pretending there was Wi-Fi. Instead, you followed. Because something about the way he said it—a challenge wrapped in a smirk—made you want to prove him wrong.

And maybe—just maybe—you liked the way his jeans fit way too much for your own good.

You spent the rest of the afternoon fake-working. Watering stuff. Feeding something. Trying not to trip over your own feet or punch a chicken.

Minho showed you how to hold the feed bucket “without looking like it weighs more than you.” You told him to mind his business. He just smirked again, that damn smirk, and let you struggle anyway.

By sunset, your shirt clung to your back and your temper hung by a thread.

“I’m starting to think this whole ‘ranch experience�� thing is a scam,” you muttered, dragging your body to the porch where Minho sat, a beer in his hand, sweat drying on his neck.

“You still haven’t ridden.”

You blinked. “The horse?”

He looked at you over the rim of his bottle. “What else would I mean?”

You snorted. “Please. I’m a city girl, not a rodeo queen.”

“You afraid?” he asked, pushing up from his chair and stepping closer. Close enough that you could smell the sun on his skin and something warmer beneath it.

“I don’t do ‘afraid.’ I do ‘sensible.’”

He leaned in, voice dropping just enough. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn't, really. Because now his hand was brushing your waist as he reached past you for something—a rope, maybe, or an excuse—and your brain had short-circuited around the way his fingers lingered just a second too long.

Minho grinned, too smug for someone that pretty. “Tell you what,” he said, stepping back. “You ride tomorrow, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your eyebrow arched. “Define ‘worth.’”

He didn’t. Just tipped his hat, winked, and said, “Save a horse, sweetheart. Ride a cowboy.”

You didn’t sleep much that night. Maybe it was the creaky bed, or the crickets, or maybe it was the way Minho had said it—ride a cowboy—like a dare, a promise, or both.

The man was cocky. That much was obvious. But it wasn’t the empty kind. He knew things. How to move. How to look at you like he was already three steps ahead.

And you hated it. Except you didn’t.

The next morning, you showed up at the stables wearing the same borrowed boots and a little more nerve.

Minho was already there, brushing down a chestnut mare. He didn’t look up when you walked in, just said, “Thought you’d chicken out.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That got his attention. He turned, gave you a slow once-over, eyes dragging like warm honey down your legs and back up to your mouth. “Guess you are.”

He didn’t smile this time. Just held your gaze, then clicked his tongue and motioned toward a saddled horse. “Let’s go.”

The ride was rough. You weren’t good at it, and Minho was very good at enjoying that fact.

“Loosen your grip,” he called out. “Unless you like pain.”

“Maybe I do,” you shouted back, surprising even yourself.

Minho laughed—deep, full. The sound hit you low in the gut.

By the time you made it back, you were exhausted, sweaty, and... strangely wired. Like something had settled under your skin, warm and restless. You were ready to snap—or do something reckless.

Minho tied up the horses and walked over. He was quiet for a beat, then said, “You did good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No snarky comment?”

He stepped closer. “Thought I’d give you a break. Unless you miss the banter.”

You didn’t move. Neither did he. The air between you snapped tight, full of heat and dust and something you hadn’t let yourself name yet.

“I thought you were gonna make it worth my while,” you said, voice low.

He smirked. “I did. You didn’t fall off.”

“That’s it?”

Minho leaned in, hand grazing your hip, thumb hooking into a belt loop. “No,” he murmured. “That’s not it.”

Then he kissed you.

You didn’t even make it to the house.

The second the barn door creaked shut behind you, Minho had you pressed against it, mouth on your neck, hands already dragging your shirt up like he’d been dying to get his hands on you all week—and maybe he had. Maybe you had, too.

“You have no idea,” he growled, breath hot on your throat, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“You’ve been a smug asshole since the minute I got here,” you panted, hands in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him grunt. “Could’ve said something.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He nipped your collarbone, shoved your bra up with one hand and sucked your nipple into his mouth like he’d earned it.

Your back arched off the door. “Fuck—”

“That’s the plan,” he muttered.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Rough hands gripped your thighs, shoved your jeans and panties down in one smooth move. You kicked them off without thinking. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder and dove in like a man starved—tongue flat, then pointed, then circling your clit with obscene skill. No teasing. No warm-up. Just pressure and precision and filthy groans like he loved the taste of you.

“Jesus, Minho—” Your hand clawed at the wood behind you, other fisting his hair as your hips bucked forward. He didn’t stop. Just gripped your ass tighter and buried his tongue deeper, working you like he had something to prove.

You came fast, sudden and hard—your thighs trembling, his name spilling out of your mouth like a broken record.

But he didn’t stop.

“Too much—fuck—Minho—”

“I know,” he mumbled, tongue still moving. “I’m not done.”

He gave you another orgasm—ripped from you with fingers this time, two thick digits inside you, crooking just right while he watched you unravel from below like it was his favorite fucking movie.

And then—finally—he stood.

“You’re soaked,” he said, voice low and wrecked. “Bet you’re dying to feel me stretch you out.”

You grabbed at his belt, yanked it open with shaking fingers. “Then shut up and fuck me already.”

“Yeah?” He spun you around, pressed your front to the barn door, one hand in your hair, the other yanking your hips back against him. “Beg.”

You hissed, needy and breathless. “Minho, please.”

“That’s better.”

The condom came on quick, and then you felt it—him—thick and hard, the blunt head of his cock nudging your entrance, slow and deliberate. He rubbed it through your slick folds first, letting it catch on your clit just to make you squirm.

“Goddamn, you’re tight,” he breathed as he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fucking perfect.”

Your mouth fell open, cheek against the door, breath gone. He was big. The stretch was insane, but so fucking good.

Once he bottomed out, he stayed there, chest to your back, one hand sliding around to palm your tits, the other gripping your throat just enough to keep you in place.

“Still think city girls can’t ride cowboys?”

“Minho,” you gasped, trying to push back onto him.

He chuckled darkly. “Desperate already?”

Then he started to move.

His thrusts were filthy—deep, hard, controlled. He knew exactly how to hit that spot inside you over and over again, how to grind his hips so his base rubbed against your clit every time.

You were gone. No thoughts. No words. Just the sound of skin slapping skin and the sharp moans you couldn’t hold in.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Take every inch.”

You did.

He fucked you like he owned your body—like you were his and this barn was his bed and the sunlit fields outside didn’t matter. He whispered the nastiest shit in your ear—how good you felt, how tight you were, how fucking pretty you sounded when you begged. And when you came again, a third time, clenching around him so hard he almost lost it, he swore loud and dirty, thrust twice more and spilled with a low, guttural "fuck".

He pulled out. You both stood there for a minute—sweaty, breathless, wrecked.

You turned around slowly, legs shaking. “That what you meant by ‘worth my while’?”

He looked you over—flushed skin, kiss-bitten lips, hay in your hair—and smirked.

“No,” he said, leaning in for one more kiss. “That was just the first round.”

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella @nightmarenyxx

(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bite

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.  “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing

Words: 10.1k

Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao

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“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”

At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”

“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”

He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yeah huh!”

Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable. 

Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”

“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.

“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”

“You guys alright back there?” 

Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”

Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”

Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you. 

“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”

Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting. 

Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”

“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?” 

Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”

“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground. 

You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.

Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”

You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today. 

After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.

The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.

“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”

“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.

Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”

“Stop fucking surfing!”

You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground. 

“Wipeout!”

You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.” 

Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.” 

“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”

“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”

“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.

You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”

“Your turn, angel!”

Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”

“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”

“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”

“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.

“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”

She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!” 

“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again. 

Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”

You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”

“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”

“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”

Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”

“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”

Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”

“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now. 

Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.

Not ideal. 

“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.

Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”

– 

When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair? 

As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”

They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”

You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you. 

“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”

“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes. 

You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out. 

“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.

“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing. 

Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!” 

Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide. 

“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”

Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”

Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead. 

“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth. 

“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”

“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair. 

You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”

“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements. 

However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”

Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”

A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night. 

Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call. 

He’s calling for help.

You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax. 

All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”

“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”

“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground. 

Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry. 

Those fuckers better save you some water.

– 

Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.

“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud. 

“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”

Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”

“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about. 

“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”

“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”

“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline. 

Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again. 

“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button. 

You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him. 

“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”

“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up. 

“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”

Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you. 

But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.  

Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all. 

Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined. 

“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”

They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts. 

You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight. 

They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest. 

Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”

“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”

He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”

“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”

“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”

Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that. 

But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today.”

Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”

You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”

She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well. 

Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”

“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”

His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”

Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret. 

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life. 

“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”

You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”

“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice. 

Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”

Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters. 

And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”

“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out. 

Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

You’re quiet. Robin is as well. 

“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”

He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you. 

It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is. 

To love someone is to know that they deserve your love. 

And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his. 

You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you. 

“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”

A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.

It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.

Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”

“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”

You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”

“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”

His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”

Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you. 

To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.

“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”

Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another. 

It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names. 

You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.

You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”

“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”

You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.

He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.

“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.

Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.” 

“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.

“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.

Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”

“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”

“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”

“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”

Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”

Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it. 

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah,”

Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them.  “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming. 

If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him… 

“Mrs. Click?”

Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.”  Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”

Easier. Luckier. 

And then it all clicks. 

Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum. 

You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid. 

“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.

Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”

She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues. 

“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”

Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.

“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.

Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this. 

Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Oh.” 

It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.

“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words. 

Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”

He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well. 

Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker. 

“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”

“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed. 

Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”

“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”

Their reactions are expected.

“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?” 

You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”

“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.

Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”

“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”

Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. 

And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.

He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.

“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”

Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief. 

But you ignore their questioning stares.

With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.

– 

 The bus becomes your only option.

“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.

Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”

“But then my walkie died.”

“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”

Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians. 

You envy them. 

“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater. 

“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind. 

Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”

The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.

Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”

“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”

You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”

“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”

“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.

“What?”

“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”

“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.

Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”

“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at. 

“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you. 

“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”

You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”

“I hate you both–”

Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”

Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you. 

“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”

Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass. 

You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.

“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”

“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators. 

Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you. 

Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”

No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds. 

It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one. 

The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough. 

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on. 

The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.

Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”

The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”

“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.

“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”

You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.

“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”

Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”

“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around. 

You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”

“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for. 

Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 

Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her. 

Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”

Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about. 

Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations. 

“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm. 

“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. 

“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”

“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents. 

That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.

Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”

Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”

Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”

The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears. 

“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight. 

The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.

Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it. 

That’s when El begins to scream.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

[revelboo]

how many souls have you taken Revel bc ive seen multiple ppl promising their life to you and with your delicious writing im about to be yet another life in your debt 😭😭

So, so many souls. Maybe I’m an Eldritch horror bartering in the shadows. Maybe I’m just a collection of exceptionally clever crows in a trench coat with a stolen cell phone. You’ll never know…

Finally ran out of space on the shelf… 18+ content mass displaced mechs 🌶️

Everything Is Alright Pt 97

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching Starscream and Soundwave murmuring to you, worrying over you, makes Megatron feel uncomfortably off balance. It’s the tender way Soundwave cups your face, tucking your hair behind your ear and the way Starscream runs his servos over you to make sure you’re unharmed. He’s jealous, he realizes. And he hates it. Not only that, not only jealous, but lonely and that’s so much worse. Surrounded by his followers all the time, but unable to really trust many of them, he’s isolated himself. Alone. Growling softly, optics narrowing, a part of him despises Starscream’s happiness. After all the Seeker’s done, he doesn’t deserve for things to break his way. To be happy and it twists angrily about his spark. “If you’re not going to play with your little pet, maybe I should,” he snarls just to needle Starscream and it works, the mech glaring, wings flicking up and quivering.

• “Cut it out,” you snap at Megatron, and Starscream stiffens, wings flaring slightly. Tensed to protect you when Megatron lashes out at your impudence, because there’s no way you’ll go unscathed for that. For defying him. Watches Megatron’s optics narrow, and Starscream’s servos tighten on you. Ready to grab you and bolt. He’s a much smaller target this size, can fly off and hide with you until Megatron calms down. Soundwave can fend for himself. And then to his utter shock, Megatron laughs. “Stop being a jerk, you already got a free show.”

• Voice wavering as you glare at Megatron and your heart races, you’re encouraged that he thinks your anger is funny and that he’s not getting pissed off. Because he’d been trying to provoke Star and you’re sure all of them know it. So you’d panicked and drawn his attention to you instead. Soundwave’s hands flex against you as if wanting to tell you to stop. And Starscream reaches around you to cover your mouth, growling when you twist your head away. Know they’re worried you’ll push too hard and direct Megatron’s anger at you. “Don’t, little one,” Soundwave growls, voice low as he and Star exchange a look.

• “Let our little pet speak,” Megatron laughs, waving a hand. “Primus knows, no one else here is willing to contradict me.” Uncertain, Soundwave vents against you. Almost tempted to hook a thought in Megatron’s processor, because amusement wasn’t what he was expecting. And he desperately wants to know what their leader is thinking right then. What he thinks of you, because there’s a hunger on the warlord’s face he’s seen before. It’s the look he’d worn in the gladiator pits, defiant and starving to be seen, recognized. “You have a problem fragging in front of me? You didn’t before.”

• “To be fair, I didn’t know you were there until you said something. I was a bit busy,” you counter, chin lifting as your face reddens. And Starscream knows you well enough to know the attitude is all bluster. You’re frightened, he can feel you trembling against him, one of your hand reaching back to grip his arm, the other grabbing Soundwave like you need them to anchor you. Your fear doing things to him. “Go find your own human if you want a show.”

• “Why would I do that, when I already have my own?” Doesn’t mean to say that, to make that claim. Only to antagonize you because your irritation with him is delicious. Ignoring the two other mechs, he stares at you, daring you to contradict him. Watching those eyes narrow, before they slide over him from helm to ped in a slow perusal that makes him freeze. That to his utter shock makes his spike stir behind his plating. Because it’s one thing to taunt and tease. Giving in to that same deviancy Starscream and Soundwave are lost in the grips of? It’s tempting. So tempting. “And if I order them to frag you so I can watch?” If he frags you?

• Can feel the tension in both of your mechs, their hands almost bruising on you. “If you want to watch, just say it,” you mutter, turning in their arms to face Star. Seeing the fury there as you go up on tiptoe to brush your mouth against his. Know this whole thing is meant to demean him, to make him angry. To prove he’s powerless. That he can’t protect you, but you can protect him. If he’s a ticking time bomb about to go and cause as much collateral damage as possible, and you know he is, you have to distract him. “This isn’t his. It’s yours,” you whisper against his mouth, arching into him. “I’m yours.”

• Servos tangling in your hair as your mouth slides against his, his optics shutter. Blocking out Soundwave and Megatron, focusing on you. The warmth of you against him, those soft hands sliding down his chassis to brush against his plating. Asking. They’re watching, Soundwave is almost pressed against your back, his knuckles brushing the other mech as he strokes over you, but he slowly relaxes into you anyway. Pretending this is okay. Because no matter what happens, you are his. His sparkmate, bound to him. Let Megatron watch and see what he can’t have. Freeing his spike, he vents against your throat as Soundwave’s hands grip your hips and lift you for him. Knows the communications officer is trying to shield you from Megatron’s view as much as possible and he appreciates it even as it annoys him that he needs the help.

• That breathy noise you make, head falling back against Soundwave when Starscream enters you goes straight through Megatron. Shifting on his throne, resisting the urge to move closer to see. With Soundwave’s back to him, his body is shielding you from view. But he can hear the wet sound of Starscream thrusting inside you, the Seeker’s low growls and hitching vents. Soundwave murmuring to you, too low to pick out the words. Optics half shuttered, he tries to focus on just you. Hating Starscream in that moment more than he’s ever hated him before. For having this, for being happy when he doesn’t deserve it. He’s not the one who’s lost everything. Who’s sacrificed everything for his goals. For what he believes in. And what he gained? Ash and death. Nothing good, and he wants something warm and soft in that moment. Someone who can’t plot against him or use him. Will defy him and challenge him. He wants you.

Previous

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[kichikichiko]

Hi! Can you write the demon brothers with little sister reader? The reader is the 8th of the family. It must be so cute since all the brothers will care so much for their only little sister.

Our little Angel in Hell

This is so cute wtf 😭 Sorry for being so late anon Ive been busy with stuff and only got the motivation do write it now! Hope you enjoy ❤️ Synopsis: HC of the 7 demon brothers with their only sister after Lilith (who's younger than them all) Pairing: PLATONIC OLDER BROTHER! Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub and Belphegor & lil sister! reader Note: Nicknames (Dove : lucy | Goldie: Mammon | Shellfish: Levi | Angel: Asmo | Rose: Satan | Hamster: Beel | Moonshine : Belphie ) CW: I PUT A LIL CAMEO OF MY OBEY ME OC "Kojika" (Asmodeus' part only) IN HERE FOR FUNSIES BUT SHE DOES NOT HAVE ANY EFFECT TO THE STORY AT ALL 🤠 Platonic siblinghood, fluff, hc, not proofread, nothing else!! 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘

Your brothers love you DEARLY. At this rate, "Love" is already an understatement. They would do anything for you and spoil you rotten. You want plushies? Food? Books? Make up? A sacrifical human for a ritual (/j) they'd to it all for YOU.

After losing Lilith, not only did you take it hard but they did as well. Not wanting to lose their only remaining sister, they've become more over protective.

LUCIFER

♤ As the eldest sibling and the head of the family, it is to no surprise that he holds the most composure out of the brothers.

♤ Around his other brothers he appears as "harsh" (but they all know he just cares for them) but around you, he doesnt even try to look stern. Everytime he looks at you his gaze softens and he smiles slightly

♤ "Mammon I'm taking away your credit card privellages" Lucifer sighs while taking away Mammon's credit card for the 5th time this month.

"Give it back Lucifer! An auction for this awesome gold car figure is coming out TOMORROW I NEED IT!" The white hair demon groaned.

You walked into the scene with a smile "Hi Lucy, is it okay if I get this thing on sale tomorrow? Ive been waiting for it to come out for a while now."

Lucifer's frowned expression turned soft in an instant and he gave you a nod "of course, just don't spend too much."

"OH FUCK YOU LUCIFER" Mammon screamed.

♤ If hypothetically he doesnt allow you to get something, instead of giving you a glare, he pats your head and shakes his head a little "Sorry Dove, but not today. We can get it another time okay?"

MAMMON

◇ Mammon is the greediest among his 7 siblings. He is the embodiment of the deadly sin, greed anyways.

◇ He HATES sharing and he doesnt hide that, but with you? He is more lenient.

◇ Don't get me wrong, he hesitates and tells you no sometimes, but other times if not most times, he is more willing to give you something or lend you something, albeit with his snarky/ stuck up personality 😭.

◇ youve been staring at a certain display case everytime you and Mammon pass by, and the yellowed eye demon couldnt help but notice it.

◇ At first he wanted to ignore it, but seeing at your longing/ awed gaze he folded.

◇ "Oi Goldie, you want that?" He pointed to the item on the display case, his hand on his hip trying to act tough and unbothered.

"Uhm.. yes but I don't have any mo-"

Mammon cut you off and walks into the store. "C'mon let's go get it."

LEVIATHAN

♧ Levi loves games, he's always cooped up in his room and rarely comes out.

♧ When he plays a multiplayer game, everyone knows how competitive this demon can get

♧ So to spare themselves from the death glares and the not so PG 13 name calling, they avoid playing him... well unless they truly wanna pick a fight with him.

♧ When you play games with him though, he's a completely different person.

♧ He's patient and kind when teaching you the basics

♧ During your first few games, he'd allow himself to take the loss

♧ He wont admit it, but he loves to see the way your eyes shine and how youre mpre determined

♧ This way, you'll play the game longer and spend more time with Levi

♧ [ROUND 1: PLAYER 2 WINS]

Your eyes shine and you smiled widely "YAY I WON! Beat that Levi! I just started the game and I won against you on. The. First. Try!"

Levi rolled his eyes and smirked "Don't get too cocky Shellfish, I might just beat your ass in the next round"

"Bring it on big bro" You grinned, holding the controller tightly.

ASMODEUS

♡ He's aware you've lost the only female influence in your life (Lilith)

♡ you being surrounded by so many masculine energy worries Asmo

♡ Not wanting you to lose your feminine side, he decided to take on the role of being your main "female influence" in your life.

♡ He is the perfect man for the job

♡ He will take you out for shopping, to the salon, kareoke, photo booths, manicures and pedicures, spas. You name it he'll do it

♡ He's even be the one you go to for sex ed/ advice bc.. well come on

♡ If youre into none of that that's fine too, he'll be your irl diary and listen to whatever you have to say... even hot boiling tea you cant keep to yourself😁

♡ "Asmo!! Are you free?" You opened the door to his room with a smile

Your brother looks at you through his mirror as he was doing his skincare "Yes sort of. Why?"

Your smile turned into a grin as you closed the door behind him and jumped onto his bed "I've got delicious tea"

Seeing your hands on your cheeks and your facial expression made Asmodeus return the grin "Oh yeah? Is it piping hot tea?" Finally facing you as he asked

"Piping.HOT!" You responded unable to contain your excitement "Miss Kojika was finally caught going out with Simeon"

"No way you better not be kidding Angel. Wasn't she just complaining about not liking Angels before?"

"Yeah but you see the way her cheeks turn pink at the MENTION of the Angel Simeon" you made sure to remind him.

♡ The conversation went on for hours, and both you and your brother are happy to have someone to talk to like this.

SATAN

□ Somewhat simillar to his older brother Levi. He gets impatient and is angry quite often, especially at the mention of Lucifer.

□ His way of escape is through his love of cats OR his abode, his sanctuary: his personal library.

□ During the times he disappears, it's a sign that he does not want to be bothered by anyone. And the only one who can bother him is you.

□ He wont exactly call it "bothering" when it comes to you, because he knows you have good intentions and only want to help him.

□ Especially if he just came out of Lucifers office after a heated argument

□ You were in the kitchen when you heard the door to Lucifer's office being slammed shut, followed along with heavy footsteps stomping away. You knew instantly that it was Satan's footstep.

Without wasting another second, you finished up the dishes and went straight to the hallway leading to his abode.

"Satan?" You knocked. "It's me, (name)"

After a few seconds, you heard a muffled "come in" and you twisted the door knob open. "I heard you walking out of Lucifer's office before."

Both you and Satan knows that he didnt "walk out" but you both decided to not correct it.

"Just another fight" he answered quickly while reading a book. "Same as always."

Slowly walking towards him, you took a seat beside him and smiled softly "Dont listen to him. You know he can make no sense sometimes... most of the times" you shruged. "Besides Im here for you. Whaddya say we do something fun?"

Satan's stern face turned soft, and when he made eye contact with you, he smiled "Sure. Thank you, Little Rose."

□ You've got his back, and he's got yours.

BEELZEBUB

♤ the hungriest brother. He just never stops eating.

♤ Whenever anyone catches Beel, he's always got something in his hands to munch on.

♤ And sometimes he's not willing to share his food.

♤ Whenever you ask though he's willing to give you a bite or 2. Hell maybe even give you the whole darn thing if he sees you TRULY enjoying the food.

♤ "Wow you seem to REALLY like the snack more than I do, Hamster..." he'd joke, mouth still full.

♤ Whenever youre feeling hungry he'd take the time out of his day to cook you (and him) some food.

♤ When he's feeling experimental and want to try a new recepie, he'd call you down to try his food and if you like it he smiles earnestly.

♤ Nothing makes Beel more happy (other than food) than seeing you enjoy his cooking.

♤ Even if you ask for it or not, he starts cooking for you more often. It's his love language and you dont seem to mind it. Cooking is a tedious job indeed and you appreciate your brother's efforts to keep your tummy full and happy.

♤ VICE VERSA! You love to bake and cook for your brothers.

♤ If you dont have the talent for either, Beel will be the first gobble up your food and give you a big thumbs up in approval. While the rest of your brothers have a hard time even swallowing the first bite

♤ Beel appreciates your effort and doesnt want you to become disheartened.

♤ But next time he'll supervise you in the kitchen and give you some tips and tricks

BELPHEGOR

♧ SILLY GUYYY

♧ You and Belphie are both the younger siblings (Beel as well but hes regarded as older than Belphie)

♧ And Youngest tend to stick together!

♧ You like having sleepovers, even though its a little bit of a silly ideas because you already live in the same estate as your brothers.

♧ Theyre usually busy so whenever you want this specific want of yours to be endulged you always go to Belphie.

♧ and he never says no to sleeping.

♧ With Belphie you both like to build tent fords together and watch movies together while eating popcord (that you both made sure Beel does not see nor smell because he'll pounce on the both of you before you have the chance to walk out of the kitchen)

♧ Other times you both would go online to buy matching onsies for your sleepover

♧ You both do this so often you end up having a closet full of matching onsies together.

♧ Sleeping with Belphie is indeed very relaxing. And Belphie likes having you around especially

♧ Usually the avatar of sloth put on a pair of Pyjamas and goes to sleep instantly, however with you around, he'll make the effort to put on essential oils, ambiance (if you'd like) and night lights 🤍🤍

♧ "Wow Belphie you put a lot of effort for the sleepover today!" You smiled looking at his room in awe

Belphie smiled and yawned "Of course, anything for you Moonshine. I want you to be as comfortable as possible."

♧ Safe to say you both will sleep in to the point your other brothers will have to drag you both out of bed to start the day

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱✿⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

Masterlist

Requesting

[parrythisucasual]

no pressure ofc but may i request a jax x reader where the reader is basically a ball jointed doll with some of the parts made of a soft playdoh material that can be shaped? i have no idea if that makes sense lmao. if not feel free to just do a normal bjd! as for story specifics ive been on a hurt/comfort kick tonight so maybe reader has joint pain or smth?

feel free to put your own spin on things! ive loved basically everything ive seen of yours in the jax x reader tag so im sure itll be great.

OKAY I WENT A BIT OVERBOARD AND I ACTUALLY HAD TO CUT IT SHORT DUE TO GOING TO A PARTY. I LOVED WRITING THIS STORY AND IM MORE THAN WILLING TO DO A PART 2 TO END IT A BIT MORE SATIFINGLY

HOPE YOU ENJOY, ANON!!!!

Jax x Doll! Reader

You were tossing and turning in your bed. No matter how you lay, your joint always managed to get caught on your sheets or blankets. It doesn't seem bad, in theory, but it was terribly painful. You finally settle in a spot, sighing happily. 

“SH(boing)T!” you yelp, jerking so hard you nearly fall out of bed. Your knee had pinched the blanket. You throw the sheets off, tears of anger (and probably pain) pricking the corners of your eyes. You swing your legs off the side of the bed, deciding to go for a mid-sleep walk. You’d say midnight, but there isn’t exactly a night here.

Trudging from your room, you walk up the halls. Your joints, your annoying burdens, click with each step. You feel a pang of jealousy; the others in the circus didn’t have any problems with their new bodies. If you really had to be a doll, why couldn’t have you been a plush one, like Ragatha? Instead, you’re stuck with stupid ball joints and silicone. It sucks.

As you pass by his room, you find you’re not alone in your restlessness. The sound is faint, but you can hear the floor creaking in Jax’s room. You pause outside his door, wondering what he could possibly be up to. 

The creaking passes from left to right as if he was simply walking back and forth in his room. As if he was pacing. You frown, debating whether or not you should knock. Maybe something was bothering him?

You shake your head, turning away. Jax wouldn’t talk to you, what are you thinking? You’d ask him if hes okay and he’d gaslight you into thinking he’d been asleep, into thinking you’d interrupted his night. He wasn’t the kind of guy to admit to his problems, not the type to care about yours.

You start up the hall once more, mind settling on the digital lake. At very least you could relax to the Lake_Ambiance.mp3 and watch the digital water move.

Crack

You let out a sharp yell, falling to the ground. Your knee had locked up, twisting at just the right angle the joint wouldn’t move anymore. God, it felt just like a sprained ankle. You hiss, gripping your knee in your hands. The tears really do come now, rolling down your cheeks in an oddly realistic fashion for this digital realm. Well, at least your night couldn’t get any worse.

“What, you forgot how to walk or something?” Dear god, it got worse. You glance behind you, the familiar smug grin staring you in the face. Jax’s confidence falters, very plainly, when he sees your tears. He raised a brow, “Oh, come on, you just fell. Are the waterworks really necessary?”

You try to stretch your knee out, yelping when it doesn’t budge, “It’s not just a fall you ignorant little- AUGH!” you give up trying to move your leg, resolving to simply lean back, giving yourself room to breathe.

Jax trots over, bending down and inspecting your knee, “How’d you manage this?” he reaches out and your stomach drops, “No, don’t!” He freezes, the surprise plain on his face, “Why not? I can snap it back into place easy as-”

“You stupid rabbit, it hurts!” you practically wail. He sits back, “Don’t be stupid, (Y/N), we’re digital now. Can’t get hurt. Can’t die.”

You turn your face away from him, growling slightly, “Clearly, I’m different. Not like you’d care, right? Too busy shoving your head up your own a(honk).” Jax doesn’t react to this, much to your surprise. Instead, he silently stands up, walking up the hall, one hand on his hip.

“Wait, where are you going? Jax?” you regret what you said immediately, you really didn’t want to be alone with this right now. “You won’t let me help you, I’m going to find Caine.”

“You’re… huh?” you blink, confused. Jax shrugs, “If it hurts that bad, why would I leave you like that?” You aren’t sure whether or not he really was going to find Caine, but with the lack of arrogance about him, you decide to trust him, “Alright… thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, merely gives a dorky salute as he rounds the corner. As the minutes pass, you begin to wonder whether or not you should have believed him. Just as you were about to give up hope, Caine appeared at the end of the hall, flanked by Jax.

“Oh, dear, oh dear! Would you look at that!” Caine’s annoying grandeur made your head hurt, but you couldn’t have been more relieved. With a simple snap of his fingers, your leg righted itself without pain. “Now then, anything else I can do for you, my dear (Y/N)?” the eccentric ringleader asked. You shake your head, a relieved sigh escaping from your chest.

“Excellent! Well, off to bed with you!” he zipped back into the air, “I was busy, after all.” Caine darted away, leaving you alone with Jax once more. He seemed off, not grinning as he usually did. You’re not sure what to say, until-

“Are you okay now?” he asks, looking anywhere but your face. “Um… yeah, now I am,” you start to sit up, and Jax rushes to your side, grabbing your hand and practically lifting you to your feet himself. “Are… you okay?” you ask, “you’re acting way different.”

Jax finally looks at you, “Why wouldn’t you tell anyone you were in pain? Are you really that thick? Any of us would’ve helped you! Any of us would be there for you!” he snapped, seemingly angry you’d hidden this.

“I… I didn’t want to burden anyone…” you admit, a bit shocked. “Burden us? Are you kidding?” his voice grew louder, making you wince, “you think your health is a burden? You moron, you’re-” he stopped suddenly, noticing your expression.

“I-I’m sorry… I-I…” He sighed, interrupting your shaky apology, “Next time, come to me. Okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt. (Y/N)...” he hesitated, “I just… I really care about you. Please, don’t hesitate to tell me you’re in pain.” He gathered himself, then placed a quick kiss on your forehead before darting into his room with a final, “Night.”

[blue-jisungs]

a night to remember

[ song inspo ! ] a night to remember by laufey, beabadoobee

[ author’s note ! ] ive been waiting for AGES to write something borderline psychological/lucid dream-y so HERE YALL GO tbh im proud of this one & u got to see how my brain works on a daily basis (chaos :3)

[ req ! ] yes, here by @slytherinshua <3 hope u like it since i knda went off track teehee

[ summary ! ] riwoo isnt sure which reality is real. or, is there even one sigle reality - are you his? or are you his dream?

[ extras ! ] can be read as both non idol / idol riwoo; ansgty if u look at it, kind of an open ending. its kind of like a puzzle but i dont wanna spoil it - and also, do let me know ur theories hehe<3

[ word count ! ] 1702

[ net ! ] @onedoornet

sanghyeok entered the cafe, headphones playing his recent favorite music. he sat down at his usual spot, in the corner of the room. that way he always had a view for the whole place.

his routine was always the same: order, busy himself until you come in. you either talk or ignore him and then… right. then what? then sanghyeok kind of blacks out, he can never remember how he got home so late.

therefore, he’s stirring his vanilla latte and counting the navy colored sprinkles on his donut. it clearly wasn’t fresh – and naturally, bought from a store. he abhorred this cafe. the sweets were usually old and hard as a rock and their coffee was bitter, too watery for his liking. actually, he hated coffee.

but yet, somehow, he was always here.

he was always here ordering this awful food and horrendous coffee (hell, even their lemonade tastes like water from washing machine after cleaning it with lemon soap). waiting for you. just to look at him. to chat with him.

to kiss him.

“hyeok!”

his eyes shot up and met yours, scrunched in a smile. he straightened his back and waved at you, signaling you to sit down.

but you came up to him and pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek. due to your close proximity he took a deep breath to enjoy your scent. you always smelled like fresh laundry, almost like his pillows and duvets.

“how are you?” you hummed sweetly, voice far more sugary than the donut he ordered. sitting in front of him, you didn’t wait for his answer.

sanghyeok just nodded with a grin, heart easing. you came, after all. your melodic voice started gradually transitioning into an unpleasant ringing in his ears.

riwoo opened his eyes, body jolting forward. he fell asleep.

shaking his head, he blinked away the remains of sleep. reattaching the hand from his chin that he used to prop himself, he felt sore. staying too long in the same position again, he looked around.

the cafe was almost empty. a couple of people he could swear he had seen before and some employees.

riwoo looked at his non-touched order, coffee cold and the foam completely dissolved.

with a heavy sigh he packed his belongings and put his earphones in, heading home.

empty streets were soaked with darkness, only occasional street lamps guiding him home. there and here shadows of passing people followed him, some of them morphing into various shapes rather than being human alike.

he finally slipped back home, too tired and devastated to change into pyjamas.

falling with his headphones on the bed, breathing in the scent of his bed, he–

“hyeok, are you even listening?” your voice hugged him, surrounding all his senses, in a slightly choking hold.

“yes, yes. i just– i missed you” he grinned and felt your hand on his back, rubbing it in a reassuring motion.

“you’re so cute, always daydreaming about me even when i’m next to you” you whispered into his ear.

sanghyeok faced you, something in your eye reminding him of somebody he used to know.

“wait, excuse me. what’s your name, again?”

for a split second your face morphed into fear.

“l/n y/n, silly. i’m your partner” you cocked your head, furrowing your brows a bit “you seem distracted today”

“i just… i thought i was dreaming” he mumbled. something about your touch was unclear, slightly blurry. but maybe he was just making things up.

“i can tell. let me order you another coffee. your macchiato already went cold” you hummed and pressed a tender kiss onto his lips. your comforting scent filled his nostrils.

“right” sanghyeok nodded, zoning out and looking at the piece of carrot cake in front of him. the icing looked ickingly, fluorescently white. unnaturally and fakely.

this day was exhausting. uni was kicking ass and he kind of pushed his limits by going to the gym earlier.

“i ordered. okay, now tell me, where are you taking me tomorrow?” you asked excitedly, sparkles in your eyes.

“tomorrow?” sanghyeok repeated in small voice, scanning your features. he had to blink twice so they sharpened in his eyes.

“yeah! we have our one year anniversary tomorrow! come on, hyeok” you whined, tugging his sleeve. “you told me you have a surprise!”

“i… i do, yeah. i do have a surprise!” he answered with a smile. it must have totally escaped his mind since he had no clue “it will be a night to remember, i can promise you that”

“sounds good” with a grin, you shuffled closer to him.

the rest of the conversation turned into one blur, his answers one worded or one sentenced. he was just really tired.

somehow before he realized, you were putting his scarf on him. right, it’s cold outside.

“you’re so sleepy. let’s just go home, okay? text me when you get back” you smiled softly and cupped his cheeks “i’ll see you in your dreams tonight, hm?”

riwoo’s eyes shot open, body flinging forward. his duvet fell off, chest rising up and down.

he wiped sweat that formed on his forehead and rushedly grabbed his glasses off the nightstand.

taking deep breaths to calm down, he blinked the remains of his sleep away.

who were you?

maybe it was just a cute dream about finally having a partner.

but why is he so scared then?

besides your face seemed similar. and the words… what did you say? something about dreams…

“what the fuck” he laughed breathlessly, putting away his duvet that smelled like came out right from the washing machine.

his friends would laugh if he told them he woke up all sweaty and frightened after dreaming about a date.

busying himself with getting ready, the strange dream escaped his mind. he had to rush to class and then he promised himself he’ll study a bit.

riwoo entered the cafe, headphones playing his recent favorite music. he sat down at his usual spot, in the corner of the room. that way he always had a view for the whole place.

after ordering, he pulled out his books and took a deep sigh.

“lock in” he mumbled, getting ready to shift obrona focused mode to study the material. next week there’s a really important exam—

“your iced americano and red velvet cake. enjoy” the waiter arrived and riwoo moved his books to make place for his order.

“thank you” he smiled and looked up. the waiter’s face seemed somehow familiar. the eyes were exactly the same shade… no, he’s just going insane.

riwoo shook his head and took a bite of the cake. his face twisted into disgust, the chonky texture making it hard to swallow. should red velvet even be chonky?

he paused the music to listen to the noises of his surroundings. the clacking of silverware, soft jazz music, chatter of customers.

his eyes zoned out on the door, brows slightly furrowed. he had a feeling as if this happened already.

then, he watched you walk through the door. something in your eye reminded him of somebody he used to know, a strong feeling of deja vu hitting him.

riwoo followed your steps with his eyes. you approached the cashier, placed your order and sat down at a nearby table.

he gulped, anxiety creating a web over his heart like a venomous spider.

the waiter gave you your order, a vanilla latte and a donut glazed with navy icing.

before riwoo could realize, his legs lead him towards you. mouth opening to ask for your name, he first gently touched your arm to get your attention but you melted away under his touch.

for a split moment he stared into the steaming cup, halting his moves.

“how can i help you, sir?”

he started at, taking a sharp breath. turning around, he saw the waiter that gave him his order earlier.

“i, uh, just…” he gulped, looking at the place where you sat. riwoo blinked twice but no words came out of his mouth. then, he turned his head back to the waiter.

just to see your face.

so he was right! those eyes seemed familiar!

“y/n?” he asked.

and as soon as your name left his lips, he suddenly saw his room in front of his eyes.

sanghyeok leaned to turn his night lamp on, chest rising up and down irregularly.

“dude, are you okay?”

the door to his room swung open and his roommate, jaehyun, approached him.

“you keep saying weird shit in your sleep, i thought something possessed you”

sanghyeok looked at him, analyzing his face carefully. is jaehyun real? is he really his roommate?

sanghyeok reached his hand out to touch him, to check if he won’t dissolve into thin air too.

“i know you love me but that’s gross” jaehyun scrunched his nose and leaned away before sanghyeon’s fingertips could brush his skin “do you need any water? maybe melatonin? i noticed you have troubles sleeping lately”

“y-yeah. i think it’s the pre-exam stress” sanghyeok stuttered out, his throat itchy “you have some sleeping meds?”

“i got some!”

sanghyeok’s heart stopped in his chest, mouth going dry.

you walked through the door, messy hair and jaehyun’s hoodie draping over your shoulders.

you sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

sanghyeok watched you with wide eyes, shifting further away from you.

“c’mon dude, you’re freaking me out. did you have a nightmare? you’re acting like you saw a ghost” jaehyun sighed, rubbing his eye with one of his hands. the other he placed on your shoulder and squeezed it gently.

you grabbed sanghyeok’s hand and opened his palm, putting a navy pill in the middle.

he looked at you, unsure.

“just trust me, you’ll be out like a baby” you whispered sweetly, closing his palm.

and for a mere moment, he couldn’t tell if the laundry smell was his duvet or you.

if he was in the cafe, sitting on a date with you and jaehyun handing him the old, musty donut with navy sprinkles on it.

if the weird sparkle in your eye was real or his lucid dream.

bnd mlist | event mlist

taglist. @rubywonu,, @tricky-ritz ,, @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

[storm-angel989]

The last request I asked for was absolutely amazing, I loved it! I’ve been into reading sickfics recently and I’d love to see how valentino and reader’s daughter would be taken care of when she has a stomach bug

Hi there!

Enjoy! I love writing these sweet little fics! Dad Val is literally my favorite!

<3 Mandy

Valentino knew that look.

The scrunched up face, hand on tummy “Daddy I don’t feel so good,” look that was inevitably followed by projectile vomiting. 

He swore, sometimes kids were worse than drunk adults. At least sometimes they had the witherwell to go to the bathroom, rather than force him to pull her as quickly as he could to the toilet.

“Oh bebita,” he sighed as he held back her hair. “Something didn’t sit right in your tummy did it?” He could feel the heat radiating off of her little body and with his one free hand, texted Vox. 

She started to sniffle and Valentino gently rubbed her back. His heart ached for his little girl.

“No no, don’t cry, I know your tummy hurts, but crying will only make things worse,” he said as soothingly as he could. 

Instead she doubled over again.

“Want Mommy,” she whined. “Papi, I want Mommy.”

“Mommy isn’t here mi amore,” he replied patiently as he carefully wiped her face. He reached over and rummaged around in the vanity drawer before coming up with the thermometer. He pressed it to her ear and pulled away when it beeped. He sighed at the number- 103.2. Way too high for his liking. 

Her whimpers turned to tears and he gently held her to his chest as he sat cross legged on the floor with her. She hiccuped again and he positioned her right back to the toilet. 

“Hey, you guys okay?” Vox asked as he pushed open the bathroom door. “Oh no, what’s wrong with the baby?” 

“She feels warm and she’s throwing up, reader is out of town and…Vox can you…” Valentino sighed unhappily. “Can you get me a cool wash cloth for her and call the pediatrician? Just put him on speakerphone.” 

Vox looked ever so slightly amused but dialed the memorized number as he damped a washcloth. Valentino carefully held it against his daughter’s forehead as he explained her symptoms to the doctor. A quick diagnosis of the stomach bug and suggestions for pedialyte and children's tylenol. Ice chips and popsicles. Crackers when she decided she was hungry. Vox hung up the phone and looked at Valentino.

“You heard the doc, it's going around. Rest, lots of fluids as she’ll tolerate them.” Vox turned to the sink and quickly filled a dixie cup with water. “Just have her sip on this for now.”

Valentino gave him a look.  “Vox, I’m not going to sit here and let this fever fester. Or let her keep getting sick. Go downstairs, tell the nurse I need a pediatric IV and…”

“Oh fuck no. Sorry Val, but I’m not letting you stick a needle into her. Adults are one thing, she’s too little,” Vox replied firmly. “And no offense, but your wife would be livid if you ignored the doctors advice and did fuck all. Besides, she’s got to get it all out of her system.”

“Language,” Valentino grumbled. But he knew Vox was right. He made a mental note to take a few courses on pediatric care. Just so Vox wouldn’t be right next time. 

“Listen, I’ll run to the store right now and get everything, it will be faster than waiting for housekeeping.” Vox continued. “And I’ll let Vel know too.”

“Can you try to get a message to my wife?” Valentino asked. “Fuck whatever she’s doing, I…”

“Language,” Vox teased gently. “But I can try. I make no promises though. She’s…”

“Busy, I know,” Valentino grumbled. 

Five hours later, the sickness seemed to be dissipating. It had been a solid twenty minutes between that moment and the last time she threw up. Valentino leaned over to the bathtub and turned on the cool water as he held his exhausted child. 

“Daddy? My belly hurts, and I’m thirsty,” she whined softly. 

He carefully poured the smallest amount from the bottle of pedialyte into cup. “Just a sip. Little sip.” 

To his relief, she did as she was told. Carefully, he lifted her up and went to set her in the bathtub. 

“No, Daddy!” She clinged to him tightly. “No!”

“Baby, I can’t give you more medication, and we have to get that fever down,” he told her patiently.

She clung to him tighter and sighed. Fine, if she wouldn’t get in by herself, he’d get in with her. He removed his phone and keys from his pocket and dropped them on the floor next to the bathtub. Carefully, he stepped into the water and slowly sank down into the tub, clothes be damned. 

She clung to him at first, but as the cool water soothed her skin she relaxed her grip. 

“Better?” Valentino asked. 

She nodded and let herself sink into the cool water. Valentino carefully took a cup full and poured it over her shoulders. After a few moments, he pressed his hand to her forehead. Good. Cooler now.

“Hey, how are we doin…oh, we’re at that point, huh?” Velvette asked as she surveyed the scene. “Not for nothing, Valentino but if you had told me that at any point you’d be in a bathtub in jeans…”

“Not. Not now Vel,” Valentino grumbled. “Can you grab the thermometer for me?” 

“Yeah yeah, let me,” Velvette replied as she picked up the thermometer. “Babygirl, tilt your head for Auntie.” 

To Valentino’s relief, she complied. As soon as it was off of her ear, she cuddled into Valentino and shivered. He wrapped his arms around her  Velvette looked at the number when it flashed.

“99.6,” she announced.

Valentino sighed, “alright, that’s better. She puked up the tylenol I tried to give her an hour ago…and I can’t give her more for another three, but I think we can get her into dry pjs and into bed.”

“I think so too. You dry her off, I’ll go get the both of you clean pjs,” Velvette said as she turned and walked out the door. 

Carefully, Valentino lifted his daughter back into his arms and stood up, letting the water drip from them both. He stepped out of the tub and, ignoring his own sopping wet outfit, quickly took her wet clothes off, wrapped her in a pink bath towel and set her on the counter. He grabbed a second towel and set to work towel drying her hair.  

“You look sleepy baby,” he cooed softly. “Papi’s going to get you into your jammies and then bedtime, okay?” 

She nodded sleepily and when Velvette came back, he quickly tugged the t-shirt over her head, and dressed her in a pair of pajama pants. 

“Val, I’ll take her to bed, you take a second and dry off,” Velvette said as she reached for the little girl. 

“No! Auntie, want Daddy!” She cried and reached for Valentino. 

“No no, don’t cry, you’ll make yourself sick again,” Valentino said quickly. “Go to bed with Auntie and count to twenty, and by the time you’re almost done I’ll be back out and in bed with you, okay?” 

She sniffled and buried her head into Velvette’s neck. Velvette quickly closed the door and Valentino made fast work of stripping off his sopping wet clothes and shoving himself into his favorite red and black plaid pajama shorts and a black t-shirt. 

“See! Told you Daddy would be back before we reached twenty!” Velvette sang as she sat on the bed. 

Valentino walked over and opened his arms. His little girl crawled against his chest and the second her head laid over his heart, she fell asleep.

“You’re lucky she can’t count,” Velvette said as she perched on the side of the bed. “Anything I can get you Val? Water? Food?”

“Just my phone, and maybe a cup of coffee, I’m going to try to stay up…”

Velvette shook her head. “Sleep when the baby sleeps. Trust me, you’ll know if she gets sick again. She’s safe in your arms, Val. You’re a good dad.” She reached over and squeezed his arm affectionately before hopping off the bed. 

By the time Velvette returned with water, snacks and his phone, Valentino was fast asleep with his daughter curled up on his chest. Velvette smiled and pulled the blanket up over his lap, quietly deposited the items on the nightstand and carefully closed the door behind her.

[katsukota]

Mean and Meaner

(Part one)

Katsuki Bakugou is notoriously vicious, and just down right cruel in most circumstances. The class of 1-A had just started to grow accustomed to him, however, a certain turn of events changes the balance of the hero course students.

Training Arc spoilers, most likely differs from canon since its been a fat fucking minute since ive watched / read that early into the series + My writing is a bit rusty so my b 😨

Part two coming soon ! ! Requests open as well 😈

Katsuki Bakugou was the epitome of anger, explosive behavior, even having a matching quirk. In the most blunt way possible, he was fucking mean.

Izuku, anyone close to him, and even anyone anywhere in a mile radius can testify for this fact.

If Katsuki is walking in the middle of the hallway, it's you who should move for him. If you somehow convince him to hang out or have a movie night, it's a given he's calling the shots and picking the movie. It doesn't matter whether you snap back, or are the embodiment of sweetness. He'll blast you into tomorrow at any verbal backlash, and kind words will be ignored if you're lucky.

Nevertheless, he was an integral part of UAs Hero Course. As loud, and brash as he was, he earned his way into the school, earning his spot at the very top of the entrance exams, and the sports festival. Despite how difficult it was starting out, and even though he'd never admit it, he'd made friends in 1-A, and stupidly enough, he thought, cared for his classmates.

That's probably how he got into this mess, is it not ? He trained vigorously, was absolutely naturally talented, bright as ever-- No logical explanation, even though he was there, being the victim of the crime, would make him understand how he ever got here. In a dingy, mildew ridden, room, tied and strapped to a chair. It was raggedy, and had an annoying scent of iron that wasn't even slowly, but definitely surely, driving him insane. This was nothing like the wealthier and more comforted parts of his or Dekus home. The change in atmosphere continued to unease him, despite how he'd stay firm in his angered stance.

Before he could let himself even acknowledge how uncomfortable it really all was, what he thought was going to be a second villain encounter, charged at him head on.

You, unwavering, glaring, and everything Katsuki deep down despised in himself, stomped up to him and pushed your finger into his unguarded chest.

"Hah?" He wasn't scared, not of a weakling like you. Youd just be another run of the mill villain, and despite how grim his chances were, no way in hell was he giving up. "Just who the fuck are you ?"

His confidence wavered for only heartbeat, when you just laughed right in his face.

How fucking rude.

"I could be asking you that. I thought the league captured people with potential. Not some dumb bitch who's still cuffed up and has his tail between his legs like a lost puppy stranded in the rain."

His jaw dropped a bit, but before he could even bite back, you just about ripped his throat out with tiger-like fangs.

"God. I was actually hoping I could have an escape buddy, not some hero wannabe. This is fucking embarrassing, im glad I never enrolled in those shitty, stuck up school. You're too busy learning how to wipe your ass to protect yourself when it comes down to it. Pa-the-tic."

He looked at you, shocked. For one of the only times in his life, Katsuki Bakugou was dumbfounded. He didnt even have the chance to attack before you basically clocked him. All of his insecurities and fears bubbling up.

Is this how Izuku felt ?

He was quick to snap out of it though, when he saw a familiar, snarky grin. Where he remembered it from, he was unsure.

"And who are you to be saying that ? You look about my age, so it's clear you're just a no brained drop out who had no other options but to be a fucking whore to some loser villain gang. You wouldn't stand a chance against the heroes."

There it was again, that grating, irritating laugh, that echoed throughout the damp room, and through each bone in his body. Hes not scared, is he ?

"God, you really ARE dumb." You genuinely laughed, usually finding amusement in how easy it was to tick people off, but this was just absurd. "You sure are jumpy, scared. Especially with conclusions. Your critical thinking skills are in desperate need of a first grade class, how'd you even graduate ?

He looked at you, growing more angry. If it weren't for the stupid binding, and the hope the heroes would find him before he had to take things into his own hands, he wouldve knocked the shit out of you yesterday.

"What do you mean, fuckface ? If you have something to say, just spit it out already. No one has time for your shit."

You scoffed. "Clearly the league does." Before he could accuse you of anything else, you pulled out a large cuffed hand locking device, in the metal, a name was carved in. "The league scouted me first, obviously thought I was stronger. More worthy than you." You stuck your tongue out, teasing him with salt in his wound. "Of course I don't have time for that bullshit. Both heroes and villains are way out of their fucking minds. They look like little kids tripping over themselves to play pretend." You looked him dead in his ruby red eyes, "You all need to grow up."

He was beyond pissed at this point, who the fuck did you think you were ? Just who were you ? Was that name yours ? No way you had a fucking custom made handcuff. Was it due to your strength ? How long have you been here ? What have you even been doing to get found by the League ? Who are you ?

Before he realized it, his boiling anger turned into an itching curiosity.

But over his dead fucking body would that be clear.

"Great, so you're a dumbass and delusional. What makes you think getting kidnapped is a compliment ? Did they take you from the fucking psych ward ? For everyone's sake you should be put back in."

You laughed, again. The way his words barely even effected you irritated him, the way youd easily bite back with something arguably even meaner, you irritated the fuck out of him.

"Then what is it, ready to accept the fact you're just that weak then ? If it's not a compliment, what is it ? A show of how gullible you "Heroes" are ? Nice fucking try."

The argument stopped there, but for the next few days, the bickering between you rarely ceases.

Occasionally, a league member will come in to shut you up, and re cuff you, scolding you for 'escaping.'

You, not even waiting for the villain to exit, but as soon as they turn your back to you, would unlock them with ease.

"If you can get out so easily, why dont you just fucking leave ? For someone who pretends to be so smart and strong, you really have a lack of self preservation."

"Hah, rich coming from you ! What are all those muscles for ? Can't break out of some chains ? Bet you're just a fatass pretending to be strong."

"HEY ! Fuckin watch whatcha say. I could get out quicker than you, kill every lowlife here, " He paused, looking you in the eyes as intimidatingly as he could, "Including you, and escape with time on my hands."

You laughed and punched his shoulder, slowly but surely getting closer and more annoying throughout the days. He hated to admit it, but your punches weren't light. They had a kick to them. It was a little relieving, knowing it wasn't just him and a dead weight.

"Okay, keep dreaming. And you say I'm the delusional one. If it weren't for some big shot hero school, you'd be applying for residential hospital services. Maybe we would've met there."

"Dont get fuckin sappy, the heroes are gonna be here soon, and ill be back to my life and forget you ever existed."

"God I fucking hope so."

[vaguesxrrow]

Heyy! Love your writing! Now that we got bisexual buck, I was hoping you could do buck from 911 x male!Reader, who is a Korean model?? I don't know, maybe they'll meet because of chimney but I will let you decide what you wanna do with it!

hii thanks sm for the request, it's been a while since ive written for 911. and tysm for your patience in getting this done - it's been like 10 days so oopsss 😅

buck / male korean model reader

a/n: background is that reader is friends with chimney and works as a model, but other than that there's nothing else specific

wc: 1335

tags: male reader, korean reader

what happens when you fly from korea to help the 118 shoot photos for the firefighter calendar?

"GUYS!" chim yelled, bursting through the walls of the changing room.

eddie flinched, muttering an exasperated 'mierda' as he picked up the shirt he dropped. ravi shrieked, covering it up with a deep cough. buck, who had been busy tugging on his shoes, fell flat on the ground with a resonant 'thud'.

"seriously, chim?" he said, rubbing his hip.

"my famous model friend is coming here!" chimney announced, oblivious to everyone's consternation. "he's from korea. his name's [name], and his team and him are gonna be doing the firefighter calendar photoshoot with us, and also a few photos for his personal project," he relayed, reading from his phone.

"wait a sec, when was this decided?" buck asked. "i don't know how i feel about an outsider coming to pose with our precious engines."

eddie rolled his eyes fondly and clapped buck across the shoulder. "buck up, buck. i think it's cool!"

ravi chimed in. "yeah, me too. when's he flying in?"

"tomorrow!" chim said chipperly.

eddie whistled. "that him?" he said, clicking on the profile picture. "he is one fine specimen of a man. i get why he's a model."

"buck, you should totally tap that," ravi agreed.

buck scowled. "he's hot, but not, like..." he groaned at his teammates' unconvinced looks. "okay, fine! he's hot. but he's not even a firefighter!"

⌦ --

you looked in awe at the firehouse, and its multiple engines and trucks parked out front, gleaming. maybe there was cleansing in the flame, you mused, as you marveled at how spotless everything was.

"it's so... clean," you told your photographer, lily. she murmured in agreement.

a laugh sounded. "yeah, that's cause we have a few clean freaks in the house," chimney said, ambling over to you. he gave you a hug, patting you on the back. "long time no see, man!"

"yeah, it's been forever, right? someone hasn't visited in a while," you teased.

chimney shrugged. "gotta take care of my family, you know?" he wiggled his fingers, showing off his wedding ring. "happily cuffed down now. what about you? found a hot guy that's struck your fancy?"

you shook your head in half bemusement, half wishfulness. "nope. not yet."

"ooh, what's this about a hot guy, chim? cause you've got one right here." a man gestured to himself up and down. his grey eyes sparkled as he grinned boyishly, clearly amused at his own joke. he had a birthmark on his temples, with ashy blonde hair, and god, wouldn't you like to run your hands through it-

"that's buck, ignore him," chimney said, shoving buck gently as he approached.

"hey!" he - buck - protested, turning to you. "definitely don't - oh wow.." his eyes scanned you up and down "i'm buck."

you smirked. "hi, buck. i'm [name]."

"no, yeah, i know," he breathed, then cleared his throat when chimney snorted, seeming to catch himself. "so, uh, you're here for the photoshoot!"

"i am," you affirmed. "thanks for having me." you smiled sincerely. it genuinely was cool to be here, in a firehouse with all its american glory.

"happy to have you here, brother," chimney said. "especially buck over here."

not so subtly, buck kicked him in the shin and chimney yelped.

⌦ --

cameras flashed, shutters clicking rapidly. you stood against the firetruck, a fireproof jacket draped over your bare shoulders, revealing your equally bare abdomen. the trousers you had on were baggy. you definitely looked nothing like a real firefighter in your impractical (and incomplete) getup, but you were excited anyway. secretly, you hoped you'd be able to try on the helmets.

"why are they going so fast?" buck questioned, disgruntled.

you laughed. "it's just how they do it. more shots means more good pictures."

"easy for you to say," he grumbled. his eyes swept over your body, not for the first time. "all your shots must be good."

"you calling me hot, evan?" you challenged.

"i think you know the answer to that."

you resisted the urge to respond with another flirtatious comment as your photographer instructed you off the set. she approached you, studying the photos in her camera intently. lily had been your photographer since forever, and you trusted that her work would be amazing as always. despite this, though, you became breathless at the sight of the first picture. buck was the focus of this one, the camera being more angles towards him than it was to you. he was wearing the unreasonably tight LAFD shirt, with the firefighter pants that were a size up than what he usually wore (as he had complained).

he looked perfect, you thought. his head was tilted back in a half laugh, and his bicep muscles were prominent from the way he had his hands poised on the back of his waist.

"it's really good, lily," you said.

"really?" she asked. "i was asking what you thought of getting rid of this one."

"oh." you flushed. "um. i'd kind of like to keep it. even if you don't use it."

she looked at you inquisitively. "sure..." she said. "well, why don't you go take a break, and we'll do another set of photos in 20 minutes?"

you nodded in affirmation, shooting her a thumbs up as you walked away to where you saw buck, chimney, and hen conversing, sipping from coffee cups.

"hey," you greeted as you walked up to them, a bit hesitantly. "mind if i join?"

hen smiled at you, maybe a bit too widely. "of course not!"

"no more photos you gotta pose for, supermodel?" chim teased.

you chuckled, ribbing him playfully in the side. "nah, 20 minute break."

"well, have you had a tour of the firehouse yet?" hen asked.

"unfortunately not."

"me!" buck blurted. "i mean, uh, i'd be happy to show you around."

"awh," you said. "thanks."

hen and chim exchanged knowing looks. "you go do that, buck." hen shooed him away.

"come on, [name]." buck took you by the hand. "time for the grand tour."

honestly, you would've given up the grand tour if it meant getting to hold evan buckley's hand for the rest of your life. it was as if your fingers had been molded perfectly for each other. his rough, calloused palms contrasted your soft ones. they juxtaposed each other, you noticed, looking down at your joined hands.

buck led you through the firehouse. annoyingly (pleasingly), he kept hold of your hand throughout the whole tour. it was only when you climbed the stairs and reached the communal bedroom that he let go to hold open the door for you, and you thought you might swoon then and there.

"leading me to your bedroom already? that's very forward," you joked.

buck chuckled, ducking his head in a way that made you want to tilt his chin right back up again. "if you ask my teammates, they'll be sure to tell you i usually bring people to the fire engines themselves, not the rooms."

you raised your eyebrows in surprise. "and when do you plan on... bringing me somewhere?" as you spoke, you inched closer and closer to him, almost unconsciously, as if there was some magnetic force between you.

buck's breath hitched audibly. "i wasn't... i mean, i wasn't sure if you were interested in me the way i'm interested in you."

"i am."

his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to meet your intense gaze. "then can i...?"

you leaned forward, just enough for your lips to brush. "yeah," you whispered.

buck surged forward to kiss you. your hands came up to his forearms, as his settled on your waist. he was so close, that you thought it might send your heart into overdrive, but at the same time it felt your heart may shatter if he didn't get closer.

when you pulled apart, both of you were breathless, and had a slightly dazed look about you.

"we should go out for coffee," buck said. "i mean, if you want to."

"evan," you laughed. "of course i want to.”

[angelkhi]

mirrorball - j.m

pairing: bodyguard!joel miller x f!reader (3rd person)

summary: a gala isn’t your thing, dress shopping isn’t Joel’s. It’s a shame no one can get their way.

warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut in future parts, mentions of alcohol, references to being roofied, language, sexual themes (no actual sex), mentions of blood, joel is a massive dick. let me know if i missed anything!word count: 2.8k

a little note: it’s here! (kinda). ive been kinda busy (i graduated!) but also wanted to take my time with this, and maybe explore some aspects of writing that i usually skim over (my bad). i estimate that this will be maybe 3 parts? i hope i do it justice either way, this fic was born out of this hc, but mostly your encouraging responses. thank you for being so kind 🩷

series masterlist part two>>

For a price tag of almost three grand, her dress is itchy. Sure it's beautiful enough that the slimy little daddy's boys will fawn over her, and each superficial gold digger will give her one syllable compliments in an overly saturated tone, but it fucking itches. She hikes the material further up her thigh for the third time since the short car ride began, trying to scratch at her skin. Maybe it's an allergic reaction. She hopes so, that way she can avoid the event all together. She's half way to pulling her sleeve away from her shoulder, ready to scratch the irritated skin, but a firm grip around her wrist prevents her from that sweet sweet relief.

"Stop fidgeting." Joel's tone is clipped, the usual hint of strain pulling across his words. She swears she's never seen him relax, not since he became her live-in bodyguard anyway. She cuts her eye at him but of course he's not looking. The only time she ever really has his attention is if her life is in danger, other than that its pure nonchalance and ignorant glances. She can admire his desire to fulfil the position, what with the pay and free accommodation, hell if she had a real job she'd probably be just as uptight as him. But there's only so much a person can take.

"It's itchy." Of course she sounds like a whiny little brat. It's fine, that's all he thinks of her anyway, she's sure of it.

"Should've picked the other one then."

She almost laughs.

She had walked him around the store at least four times, each trip resulting in the same two dresses. She couldn't decide between the colours, then the length, and then the sleeves. In the end he forced her into the changing room, mumbling she either picks one of those or goes in nothing. They both know that's not an option. Both dresses felt nice, as nice as a constricting piece of fabric could feel, they both looked as nice as they could in the dreary washed out lighting. In the end she had asked Joel, who sat just the other side of the door, arms folded, shoulders tense, scowl mastered.

Joel isn't one for verbal communication, unless it's telling her to 'go here' or 'stay there' or his most frequented phrase, 'shut up'.

But his eyes say it all.

Sometimes it's a simple twitch, letting her know he's not as irritated as he lets on, others it's a slight squint. That's her personal favourite. That's when she knows she's got him right on the edge.

His eyes fix on her, moving slow and calculated over the second dress. The way the fabric moulds to each divot and curve of her body, lingering on her chest, on the slightly too high slit exposing her thigh. It's a clear winner.

His levels of exasperation had clearly spiked in the time it took for her to change again, his constant glaring, huffing and puffing dialled up to 100. His wide steps only seem to grow wider on the way to the checkout, his whole demeanour screaming get me the fuck out of here. Which is why she doubles back on herself, not needing to check if he's following, she knows he will.

She stops, a wide array of underwear in front of her. She takes her time, making sure to show each and every barely there pair to him, watching that eye twitch with a perfect mix of irritation and lightly tethered resolve.

He'd dragged her out of there in the end, though not after she held up the skimpiest pair of panties she could find. His hand wraps tight around her arm, not enough to hurt her, she knows he'd never do that. But enough to tell her she's officially pushed his buttons a little too much.

Soon enough the car rolls to a slow stop in front of a grand building. Stone columns tower over her when Joel leads her from the car. She likes to pretend it's not in his job description, that instead he's simply just an emotionally constipated gentleman, but she's not stupid enough to believe it. Still, when his hand finds the small of her back, when he guides her up the steps and into the vast museum-turned-ballroom, it's hard to believe that his behaviour is entirely obligatory.

The event is just as grand as she expected. Her father certainly has no trouble with throwing his wealth around, even less so when it presents the opportunity to show just how wealthy he is. An ornate chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting a warm twinkling light over the guests. An sizeable portion of an orchestra plays dreary classical music from the back of the room, and the guests are filling the space, drinking overpriced champagne and nibbling on bite sized canapés.

She waltzes through the sea of false affluence, painting on her best smile, choosing her most pleasant tone, saying all of the right words. She embraces her father heartily, pushing down the small piece of resistance when he pulls her close. She puts on a good, exhausting show. The only thing that keeps her grounded is Joel, hot on her 5-inch heels, anticipating her every move, being ten steps ahead of her.

She's seated with a handful of the elite from the gathering, laughing when they relay the same stories as always, gasping and feigning surprise when they compliment her. She eats the bland food with a sweet smile and laughs off propositions from parents who just know their son would be a perfect match for her.

In between convoluted speeches, she listens to them drone on about their latest investments, or how well their darling daughters are performing in their ballet classes. She smiles, she drinks. she laughs. She's the perfect daughter. The luckiest girl in the room, with the richest daddy and all the luxuries life could offer. But sat at that table, choking down specs of gold in the dry champagne, she feels more akin to the age old scrolls and scriptures.

A caged artefact, another one of her father's prized possessions, on display to be gasped at. She'd give anything for the glass to shatter, for tiny shards to rain down on each and every person in here. She'd marvel in their horror as they learn they bleed the same as everyone else on this planet. That they're not special, and neither is she.

From the corner of her eye, she spots Joel hiding in the shadows, standing to attention. His eyes constantly scan the room and every few seconds, they're on her. She almost feels bad for practically ogling him whilst he's doing his very best to keep her alive. But his black suit fits his form so well it'd be a sin not to look. She watches as he readjusts his cufflinks for the third time, the material catching around his biceps, the single button clipped across his stomach almost straining with every moment.

Yes, Joel is an insufferable bastard, but he's an unfathomably good looking one. His stoic behaviour is almost forgiven on that basis alone.

A round of applause pulls her from her Joel induced trance. She fixes her smile and joins in, nodding jovially with those around her. Not soon enough, she's free to leave the table, thanking them for their company, and heads straight for the bar. She feels Joel's presence before she sees him, perching a few seats down, eyes still wondering.

She doesn't pay much attention to the man next to her. His suit probably cost more than what most people make in a year, and his charming smile is more snake-like. She smiles when he pays for her drink, laughs and touches his arm, letting him think he has a chance. He's been talking about his most recent investment in overseas stocks for ten minutes, and all she wants is to go home and take off these fucking uncomfortable heels. To be able to breathe without the rigid dress digging into her skin. She wants to be alone, or as alone she can be with her human shadow.

"... and profits are at an all time high. My old man reckons I'll be taking over from him soon enough" The man, Matt? Mike? Manny, speaks. She flashes him a smile.

"Wow. That's amazing." Or at least she hopes it is, he could be talking about his dead childhood pet for all she knows.

"Let me buy you another drink?" He asks. Though it's more of a demand, he's already flagged down the bartender, ordering something sweet and fruity her, and a "real man's" drink for himself.

"You got the last round. I'll get these." She pretends to root around in her too-small purse knowing he'll decline, they always do. Men like him take any chance to throw their money around, wave it in peoples faces, impress the men and woo the ladies.

By the time she's ended the facade, he's waving his amex at her dismissively, nudging the drink towards her. Once again she smiles. She doesn't even want the drink, certainly not in his company.

His beady eyes watch her, a hint of something beneath the thick layer of painted on charm. That snake-like nature increases tenfold and it takes everything in her not to tip the drink down the front of his Givenchy shirt. The glass is barely in her hands when it's ripped from her hands, the familiar scent of Joel invading her space.

His face is taught, that scowl he loves so dearly gone, in its place pure rage. His eyes are dangerously dark, and she's sure if she looked hard enough, there would be smoke blowing from his ears.

It all happens so quickly. The sloshing drink flies from the glass straight into Manny's face, dripping down onto his clothes, turning his sickly white suit into a damp shade of pink. Then Joel is moving, slamming the empty glass onto the bar and gripping the terrified man by his collar.

She can feel the eyes of almost everyone at the gala trained solely on them, she almost expects the music to come to a screeching halt.

She can barely make out Joel's enraged words, despite the silent crowd. She's barely aware of his hand gripping her arm, pulling her through the parting guests. A sea of shocked faces, some sympathetic others purely confused. She stumbles on the top step, her stupid heels and Joel's insane pace working against her. The world turns upside down, and her hands reach out to brace herself, hitting his sturdy back. Even with a layer of clothing between them, she swears she can feel his bare hands across the back of her thighs, the tight muscle of his shoulder pressing against her stomach.

He's thrown her over his shoulder. Like a damned child. And now he's shoving her into the back of the car, as though she's the one that threw a tantrum and caused a scene. He rounds the car and slips in beside her, and they're speeding off back towards her apartment.

The last few minutes slowly slip from a hazy blur to a sharp reality, and she can't help but stare at him. Confusion and pure embarrassment hit her first, then comes the anger. He speaks to the driver for a second, and then the partition is rolling up again.

The car feels ten times smaller and itching of her dress is long forgotten. She wants to ask him what happened, why he dragged her out of there like an insubordinate child, but he's busy typing on his phone, making hushed calls as though a whisper wouldn't travel the few feet of space between them. His chest heaves, small tufts of hair peaking through the now open buttons of his shirt, the once neat tie hanging loosely from his collar.

He barely looks at her the whole time. Even as he helps her out of the car, or guides her into the elevator, or pushes open her front door, bolting it behind them. She throws off the heels the moment she steps into the large living room, knocking an ornament sideways. Not even that gets his attention.

"Sunshine secured." He speaks into his wrist, a small undetectable microphone hidden in one of the cufflinks. Sunshine. She remembers it like yesterday, the first time he'd called her that. She'd stumbled into the kitchen after a late night, barely acknowledging the hulking man sat at the island. She remembers the exact moment his eyes met hers with that all consuming gaze and the slight quirk of his lips as he studied her from head to toe, then in that deep texas drawl, uttered morning sunshine.

She had quickly come to learn it was not as endearing as it seemed. Joel doesn't do endearing.

There's a growing urge to throw something, at a wall or at him is still undecided, so she crosses her arms across her chest instead. She calls out his name, though it falls on deaf ears, his nose buried in that stupid phone of his. She tries again, and again until throwing something doesn't seem like such a bad idea anymore. Finally, he grants her the privilege of his attention and she considers for a moment, if that's all she wanted. Not answers, just his acknowledgement. He raises an eyebrow, his nonchalance pushing her over the edge.

"What was that?" It comes out as a high pitched shout, rather than the calm and controlled manner she had hoped.

Once again, he quirks his brow saying nothing any everything . This doesn't concern you, or are you really that stupid?

"Joel, you just threw a drink on someone and dragged me out of a room filled with hundreds of people. You would think that warrants an explanation!"

He has the nerve to huff and shake his head, shoving the buzzing phone in his pocket and takes a step towards her.

"You want an explanation." He eyes her again, focusing on the slow curve of her dress. "There was a threat. I eliminated it."

She scoffs, "You were being a dick."

"I was doing my job."

"Oh that's what it was! Your little tantrum was you doing your job?" She's aware that she's now the one throwing a tantrum, not that she cares when he's acting so high and mighty, as though the status of his role outweighs her own peace of mind.

"Go to bed." His phone buzzes again, he ignores it. "It's been a long night and I have a bunch of shit to deal with."

"Are you being serious right now? You just humiliated me in front of everyone. Was carrying me down the steps really that necessary?" If she was itching to throw something a few minutes ago, she's desperate now. Maybe her shoe, right in his face.

"He would've done a lot worse Sunshine, now go to bed." For fucks sakes.

"No! Not until you tell me what is going on."

He sighs, pinching the small bump along the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a moment. He does this a lot, when he's trying not to yell at her or even better still, quit his job. He shoots her a pointed look.

"If you weren't so busy flirting with your little boyfriend, you would've noticed him slipping something in your drink." His words are met with a long silence, and the space between them seems to stret even further.

The dress feels tighter, and she wobbles a little, though this time she can't blame it on the shoes. She was wrong. He hasn't humiliated her in front of everyone, he'd done it in her own home.

"Unzip me." Her voice is clipped. She's not sure if she wants to scream or cry. Maybe both. He hesitates for a moment, but then he's there right behind her pulling the zip down so torturously slowly, the soft brush of his knuckles on her skin threatening her with a shiver. She almost hates herself for it.

He steps back, but she doesn't face him. The dress slides off easily, leaving her in barely anything not that she cares. She's already humiliated herself enough, what's another notch in the belt? She gathers up the crumpled fabric, wanting nothing more than to throw it in the bin, and walks down the hall pausing at her door. She turns to him. She refuses to let him have the last word, he doesn't deserve it, not tonight. With tears already threatening her voice and Joel's beyond sour mood she's not sure she cares much either. Making sure to look directly into his eyes, she bares herself, lets him see the hurt he has caused.

"Fuck you."

She makes sure the door slams behind her, leaving him alone in the dark.

[jnnmclm]

Hi! I, JOANNE MACALAM is speaking up towards the infamous notorious donation scammer LAURA DERAMAS.

I am a filipina based in USA. Ive known LD through a childhood friend of mine back home.

Never met her personally. Just like all of you here I too am scammed into some sort by her. As you can see, Laura has been using me as her bank account. Zelle, Venmo, Cash App and even Paypal.

Honestly, it didn’t cross my mind that this is all just her bullshit. Growing up in the Philippines, these things could possibly happen. I started to doubt her when my paypal account was charged with $1,800.00 that was sent by a guy. I informed her about the matter and she told me that it was a guy who scammed her of paying after she sent some “photos/videos” in exchange of money. LOL now up to this day I still owe Paypal $1,800.00. Stopped doing her favors, but she kept on messaging me all the damn time. Calling me even in the middle of my work. Even at night when am already sleeping. Pleading to please do her another favor. I tried calling paypal. There is nothing I can do, I now owe $ 1,800. This girl dont take NO for an answer.

I started giving her my cash app, venmo and zelle since I cannot use my paypal anymore just so she will stop. Always saying it will be the LAST TIME. But of course its not, there is just always something going on with her life. And I keep feeling sorry for her. I can’t give her money, I dont have those. I barely make it here in America plus sending money to my family in the Philippines, supporting my siblings with school. I have 7 sibs btw and my dad has already passed so its just me and my mama. Coming from a poor family, I sympathized for her thinking that there is nothing I can lose if I help her, I can’t help her monetarily so by me being her point of access to help here in USA to Philippines is okay. It won’t hurt nobody or so I thought.

Earlier this year, there was a network outage in my state, after it was back, I can no longer use my zelle. I did not suspect that my Zelle acc was reported by some of y’all. I was thinking it was the network outage. I tried to call my bank, zelle, network provider but I cant get no answer, they keep passing me to each other, I changed my number. Same thing. I can’t use zelle. And instead of dwelling about things that are beyond my control, I just let it go. I told Laura of what happened and that I can no longer help her through Zelle. Now you might wonder, why are you still helping her? Didn’t some of you keep helping her because she just have this fucking annoying tactics that will make you fall for it. The emojis urgh! The HUHUHU every end of a sentence. I am so done with it.

I kept ignoring her, muted her. Didn’t answer to her calls. Because now she is “borrowing” money from me. I dont have money to lend. Then I got a notification of a money transfer in one of my remaining account, checked my messages and then there was her telling me someone send money to me and apologized that she didn’t asked permission. What can I do at this point? Its not my money. When I opened the app and check, with an attached note from “Tmblr”, it poked my interest. Whats in tmblr? Why does people give her money this much? The other night, I created this account and searched for her name. I swear, my yawning was replaced with cold sweat, shaking hands and anxiety. The bitch has been scamming ppl! I saw Kyra45 post about her. I reached out. And I dig deep down to all these mess. Kyra45 informed me that my name, picture even my dog and my plant business in the Philippines was used in an account. I was livid, mortified and most of all, humiliated.

Tonight, what lead me to writing this is because I searched for my name in the search engine and I was dumbfounded. As a woman who is trying to make my life better, leaving my family to provide a better life? This is too much. My trust for this lady is broken, my image is broken. My identity was stolen. She made my brother dead, my family homeless and me going back and barely afford college.

I messaged her tonight, I informed her what I found out and how disappointed and disgusted I am to her doings, making profit out of our brothers and sisters in Palestine and Gaza. This behavior has a special spot in hell.

I apologize for all of you of what Laura Deramas has caused. Unfortunately, I cant make all your money come back. I will stopped my communication with her as I dont want to be a vessel of her scams. From the bottom of my heart, I am really sorry, I should’ve known better. May this be a lesson for all of us. Continue to be compassionate to others and keep spreading kindness.

Xoxo, Joanne

[obcultatio]

the beginning.

tw: suicide

i.

the sky is bleeding.

red threads streak across a dull grey canvas, like god himself took a knife to it. kyuhyun sees it on the walk home, and it triggers a tightness in his chest that he can't explain. is it premonition or gut instinct? he can't tell but all he knows is that something is wrong. his footsteps quicken and he reaches hastily for the gate.

the door is unlocked and it creaks open effortlessly. his mom always locks it, even when she's outside watering her wilted plants. something like dread blooks in his chest.

he steps in and immediately, he can tell something is off. the room is quiet and the air too still. if there's one thing about his mother, it's that she hates silence. as he pushes open the door, the scent hits him first. not rot, not yet. but metal. something like a nosebleed, the cold or sharp like a broken promise.

he calls out. “umma?” again, this time, louder. “umma!”

silence.

he moves through the hallway and anxiety pools in his stomach. each step feels like he’s sinking. and when he looks up, he sees her, feet first.

there she is. hanging.

his mother. umma.

her arms lay limp beside her, her favorite floral yellow dress swaying gently with the ceiling fan’s breeze. her eyes are closed like she’s sleeping, but it’s all wrong.

a garbled scream tears from his throat, heart slipping down to his stomach. something feels like it's ripping free from his chest but is unable to do so, eyes blurry from the tears that are streaming down his cheeks. “no. no. no. no.”

he stumbles forward, his knees hitting the floor in an attempt to reach out to her. palms slap against the air like he can anchor himself to the earth, but nothing feels real anymore.

umma.. umma... how can you do this to me...

the words spill from his lips, quiet and cracking. he can't tell whether he's praying to god or cursing him for letting this happen.

ii.

he doesn’t remember when she started fading. for all he knew, she'd always been the way she was, maybe he was too young or ignorant to know.

he was a teenager when she stopped smiling. the fake ones stayed, the type that she plastered whenever she went to work. the ones she wore when business owners came over to write her check for cleaning their offices. the ones she forced through bruised lips and puffy cheeks. she became quiet and twitchy, always afraid of shadows, especially the one that came home drunk and angry.

his father. a man who never said sorry, a man whose love came in the form of control, fists and silence.

kyuhyun would lie in bed some nights, hearing her cry through the walls. sometimes whispering to herself, sometimes to no one. sometimes to god.

he never did a thing for her and neither did kyuhyun.

“i’m sorry,” he sobs now, on the floor beneath her. he's scrambling to get her to the ground as they wait for the paramedics. please hold on. hold on for me.

but as he feels for her pulse, he knows she's let go long enough for him to hope for anything else other than her death.

iii.

hours later, the neighbors begin to whisper as another's baby is crying havoc in the hallway. the sun is setting again like the day is mocking him, the gall of it to start over while he feel like he can barely breathe.

they bring her out to the hallway in a black bag, the sound of it zipping close feeling resolute.

he stares at the empty rope and the stool she must’ve stood on. at the note, short and crooked that's been left on the kitchen table.

live for me, kyuhyun. i love you and i'm sorry.

he can barely read it through his blurred vision but he focuses on his name in her handwriting. the curl of the k, the way she always dotted her i with a dash, the genteel way about her cursive. he presses it to his chest like it can stitch this all back together.

iv.

the knock comes past noon. he barely hears it at first, but the voice bleeds through the door.

“kyuhyun. it’s me.”

vince.

he shouldn’t be here, he’s just his boss. but today he walks through the door like he’s coming home. like he knows exactly what needs to be done, what business needs to be sorted.

kyuhyun doesn’t move and can't find the words to speak. instead he just sits in the dark room, knees drawn up as his hands clutch shakily at the last piece of memento his mom left behind. the room still smells like her and when vincent finds him, he sits beside him without a word. their shoulders touch and that’s all it takes for kyuhyun to break.

he folds into his arms and lets out a sound he didn’t know he was holding. hot tears flood down, as if desperate to run down his cheeks.

kyuhyun feels vince wrap an arm around him and holds him like no one ever has. not even his real father. he cries even harder at the realization. for the first time, he lets someone see the whole of it. all the grief, fear and misguided love he had for his mom.

after a long silence, vincent finally says, “i’m going to milan next week and i want you to come with me.” he isn't asking him if he wants to, he's telling him to do so.

there is nothing and no one that tethers him to this hell anymore.

[fairyhaos]

hey, fun fact! lola nena's (en: grandma nena's) is a popular dessert/pastry/bread branch all over the philippines. i like their pichi-pichi.

anyways, hi nenas !! miss you, just wanted to pop in for a little. haven't been in your ask box for a while (literally thought ur laptop got stolen), too

i've been doing okay these days, before u ask. if i ignore the coughing, i am like. literally passively medidating, i'm in my Zone™. the8 would be proud of me. and bc of that, weiwei has been wanting to write since i recently learned how to make some BANGER headers !! wonder if you can find the account 🫡 /silly

hope you've been doing well ... if there've been some meanies, i WILL sucker punch them to pluto 💪 drink water, eat good food, and just go with ur flow ^^ yayyyyyy

; 🌂

hihi wei ^0^ stop that's so sweet actually (heheh "sweet" like compliment but also like pastries,,, do u get it) and i wanna try pichi pichi now fr it looks soooo yum

i miss u too <///3 haven't been as active here as i hoped bc man who knew that rambling to the internet actually drains u ??? also ive been weirdlyyy busy w seeing friends and attending events but now my laptop is back ill try to b here more often >u<

oh em gee you're meditating?? that sounds fun ngl but why are u coughing what happened :(( glad that you're having fun with banners thoo and stop im literally so bad at tracking mewtuals' sideblogs so like,, unless u yell it in my face then it'll literally be lost to the void 😭

have fun with writing tho and if u ever want help them im literally just right here!!! take care of urself too pooks and let's talk moreee <33

[mekatrio]

2024 VIDEO GAME WRAP UP!!!! for fun here are my rankings and short reviews for every game i played this year... well not every game but every new game i played and completed that i spent at least 10+ hours on 😚 also no major spoilers yayyy!!! ranking from least fave to fave woohoo

9. aa3

a waste of my goddamn time... not just the worst game i played this year but also the worst game ive ever played PERIOD.... i spent like a good 3/4 months complaining abt it so i wont do that song and dance again, but to summarize it rq... this game does a whole lot to just essentially say 2 things: which is 1.) "minors are capable of seducing adults and can be held liable for doing such" and 2.) "abuse victims do not deserve ANY grace when considering the actions they take against their abusers". if my words were waterdrops i could turn a desert into an oasis with how much i have to complain abt this piece of shit.. anyways FUCK THIS GAME! AND FUCK SHU TAKUMI! 🖕

8. aa1

I DONT hate this game in fact w the exception of aa3 i enjoyed all the games ive played, basically low ranking =/= bad game, but aa1 is down here bc well hmmm it was a good game thats for sure (tho some of its game design was frustrating and could stand to be better; a lot of aa1 was revisting locations again and again to find a story trigger), but it wasnt.. super remarkable to me 😗 at least compared to how excellent aa2 and aa4 were. the homosexuality was sooo delicious tho like trust i still hate phoenicolas wright but i love his derangedness too.. i have a very love hate relationship with aa. ANYWAYS!

7. aa2

i still stand by my opinion that 2-4 is the best case of the first four games like that was a MASTERPIECE in pacing and drama and THEMES AND RAHHHHH I STILL LOVE IT SO MUCH but sadly i cant let one case alone carry my entire opinion on this game, cuz as good as 2-4 is i cannot ignore how weak the other cases were... especially 2-3. i rly dont have to say anything abt big top now do i 😑 but still 2-4 was good enough for me to rank this game above aa3 & aa1.. franziska i love you 4EVER

6. slay the spire

this game really fucking possessed me at the start of the year wrsjdkbxks and i just checked my total amt of game time i played it this year and my god i played fucking um. 200+ hours..?!#? ���😭😭 so yeah i Truly enjoyed this game i think its so super duper fun and ADDICTIVE and its just a tried and true roguelike that allows sooo much experimentation, its great!! its quite low on my ranking tho cuz ive fell off quite a bit w how busy ive been but also i guess i played it so much that it started to feel repetitive to me HAHHH but thats also after 200+ hours sooo.. its still a pretty damn good game?! but anyways yeah im looking forward to the sequel very very much <3 <3

5. tales of vesperia

TALES OF FUCKING VESPERIAAAAA im still not done picking apart this game yet but god what a fucking. game. thing. EXPERIENCE... is it mid yes. definitely. but also like.... not entirely. like idk after playing i was definitely frustrated with several story aspects but as i was playing through the game itself, especially during the beginning and the middle of the game, the writing was sooo fucking strong and engaging and compelling and that does count for something to me. in spite of Everything i still really enjoyed it. also this game was gorgeous. and i loved how unexpectedly funky the music was. and the combat was soooo fun even tho i was complete ass at it. mediocre game and i mean this in the kindest heartwarming way ever with ALL the love in my heart. i hope yuri lowell gets hit by a car

3 & 4. aa4 and 999 zero escape

i cannot decide which one i like better so fuck it theyre both on the same ranking. ill talk abt aa4 first. although um its a bit hard to talk abt what makes aa4 so awesome without spoilers.. but essentially apollo and trucy >>>>>>>>>> phoenix and maya. in so many ways. i love apollo. and trucy. and their dynamic. also klavier was an extremely compelling prosecutor. godot was a joke and edgeworth was kinda just a tsundere with trauma (franziska is a queen tho), but klavier was veryy rich and interesting in both his actions and his motivations. ok im starting to make myself sad again thinking abt aa4's lost potential WAHHH but yeah its still a gem even if it kinda fell on its face at the finish line. def my fave aa out of the four and also easily my MOST FAVORITE soundtrack too. not just of aa games but of every game i played this year I LOVEEE the music of this game. so much. mwah. also fuck whatever the haters say i loved every case of this game. yes 4-2 and 4-3 were good idgaf

now onto 999 zero escape... another game with absolutely amazing art direction. the music and the backgrounds and the dreary and tense atmosphere is soooooo fucking good. also this is another game thats hard to talk about with spoiling everything. fuck. its ok tho we move. but yeah the [REDACTED] aspect of the gameplay was sooooooo Wowww and WOW and intriguing and there is something sooo so wrong with junpei so it was so fun to play as an absolute weirdo and also the writing was solid enough where i was able to predict a good amt of plot twists which was super satisfying and rewarding like this was a damn good game. its a shame that certain elements were dropped and werent as fleshed out but in spite of this it was still an incredible experience. and yas i cried at the ending that was heartbreaking and GOOD.... great experience. have you heard of the crystallization of glycerin

2. style savvy

STYLE!!!!! SAVVY!!!!!!!!!!!!! i was not expecting to love this game as much as i did but wow it is AMAZING... like first of all the music. gorgeous and chic and fun and popping. and then THE VISUAL AESTHETIC.... this game is incredible. it looks so good and it is so charming and the fashion outfits are great and despite being 10+ years old the models aged sooo well and also i love the skin color diversity too its so fab..!!!! and the gameplay WOWW im in love with how unexpectedly strategic it is like the game wont tell it to u but once you figure out what clothings are from what brands then Thats The Key.... thats how u ace the customers requests on ur first try! and then the limited storage makes buying outfits strategic too and its a balance between having enough to sell but selling enough to buy more later like i loveee love this game so much 🩷🩷🩷🩷

and last of all 1. tales of the abyss

My Game Of The Fucking Year...... goddd where do i even begin. but seriously this game saved me cuz i was experiencing a dangerous level of brain damage from playing 4 ace attorney games in a row like shu takumi's bullshittery was POISONING me so to play abyss when i did was like Ohhh... Ohhh my god Thank You. but like really wow this game is really.... something very special to me. like i dont think the dungeon design is very great. and the combat was probably very good but this was my first tales game and they dont really tell you anything so i was fumbling through the entire thing. and i also played the 3ds port which has so many framedrops and the audio mixing on cutscene was practically non-existent. but the story and writing was so incredibly amazing that i could bear through all of this games weaknesses so easily. this sounds a bit crazy bc a video game shouldnt only have its strength in one aspect but im exaggerating a bit hereeee cuz like the game used its synopsis and in-game scenes to tell its story very well too and the pacing was amazing and solid throughout the game except a few parts in the middle where it faltered a bit, but it was still very strong!! but imo abyss' strength truly lies in its character writing like Oh my goodness this was really.. REALLY something special. there are so many characters and so many of them are so fleshed out and have so many nuances and compelling motivations and connections to one another and its like.. so crazy cuz they almost feel like. real people??? as in yes the game has its share of anime bullshittery and typical story tropes ofc it does, but yet at the same time so many of their reactions and responses to events both past and present felt very incredibly grounded?! this game is an incredible experience that was not only very heart-breaking but also veryyy very moving. and like honestly for a while i had been feeling worried that maybe i wont ever find a game so perfectly catered to me the way mm and ffix were again cuz like ive tried many many games but none of them were hitting the same way... but finally abyss arrived and its. just wow. i love it very very much 😭

AND YEAH this was a great game for video games!!!! TALES OF THE ABYSS GOTY WOOHOO!!!!