#like i need them to fuck off and touch grass so that i can also mentally and metaphorically touch grass

[avastrasposts]

Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed. 

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks. 

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in. 

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears. 

He dropped his hand. 

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home. 

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again. 

But she’s here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here. 

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap. 

“You growing roots, old man?” 

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger. 

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar. 

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.  “You coming or going, cowboy?” 

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist. 

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.” 

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face. 

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him. 

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.” 

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he can’t help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb. 

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him. 

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.” 

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses. 

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat. 

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.” 

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip. 

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who steps in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble. 

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends. 

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seems to carry more of a burden than most. 

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass. 

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek. 

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over is face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She’s temporarily mesmerized by how they bounce back around his ears as he squashes the cap back down. 

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head. 

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return. 

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.” 

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.” 

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.” 

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.” 

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.” 

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.” 

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.” 

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her. 

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again. 

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head. 

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.”  She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down. 

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke,  the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.  

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him. 

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it. 

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?” 

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans. 

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile. 

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?” 

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter. 

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?” 

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.” 

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed. 

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet. 

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.” 

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged. 

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.” 

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.” 

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head. 

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.” 

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was  trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries. 

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him. 

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.” 

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.” 

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.” 

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private. 

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic. 

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon. 

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here. 

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy. 

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more. 

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it. 

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city. 

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet. 

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence. 

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else. 

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected. 

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.” 

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child. 

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child. 

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.” 

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it. 

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.” 

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped. 

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer. 

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

[trans-cuchulainn]

internet discourse is really good at giving you new guys inside your head to have hypothetical arguments with it but i also don't think my brain needed any help on that front and i wish i didn't feel such a need to defend all of my choices from hypothetical interlocutors who think it's morally bankrupt to enjoy escapist fiction in a stressful world because it means you're a privileged child who can't tolerate reality, or something

[arledrone]

i have very straightforward thoughts on the current situation going on and they consist of 'if you're criticised for something important then literally ‘x was not my intention but i can understand how it isn’t a good look and will do better’ and also 'you can criticise someone without telling them to kill themselves it's not hard to be a normal person' like these are not mutually exclusive concepts... i just think you're all too socially inept to interact with each other <3

[winglesshopeful]

vaguely aggrivating, following someone who's advocating for a movement that, while agreeing with aspects of it, leaves you with questions and concerns, so you ask about it, making clear that you agree with many concepts stated, but also that you don't understand other concepts but want to, and instead of explaining their movement or even mentioning resources to look for, they just kinda. dodge my questions while making it out like im just some kind of idiot who "doesnt get it" and in a later post, tries to make me out to be downplaying suffering by asking genuine questions.

this is about antipsychology. terfs keep your grubby fucking mitts off my post.

[beiasluv]

yes, and? | f1 d!lfs

a/n: Ariana popped tf off with that house music, but ngl I have mixed feelings abt her allegations. don’t be a homewrecker bitches 😘

aussiegrit

liked by oscarpiastri, fernandoalo_official and 96,279 others

aussiegrit Ride a Porsche, save a horse…😆 yourinsta

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yourinsta

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jensonbutton

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jensonbutton off seasonal things 🤣.

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yourinsta

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f1gossips

liked by username, username and 39,728 others

f1gossips Ricciardo, Vettel, Button, Alonso, and Ln spotted in a holiday in Ibiza, Spain. More attendants to be confirmed.

- admin

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yourinsta

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yourinsta told you my selfies ate 😘

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sebastianvettel

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sebastianvettel trip dump or whatever the kids say?

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yourinsta correcto

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f1gossips

liked by username, username and 27,156 others

f1gossips Mark Webber and David Coulhart spotted at the Porsche convention, Melbourne, Australia. Lando Norris confirmed in joining the Ibiza trip last week as seen with a fan at a restaurant

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yourinsta

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yourinsta yes, and?

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yall know the drill, interact if you liked it😘😘 let me know who’s your favorite f1 dilf

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

[alessiasfreckles]

Advantage (Leah Williamson x reader)

After colliding with another player, you have a concussion and have to stay home. Leah volunteers to look after you.

warnings: injury / concussion, sick, very mild angst if you squint

A/N: based off this request! I hope you like it! also any doctors pls don't come for me i've never had a concussion idk what the recovery looks like. part 2 here!

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The crowd went silent as your body fell limply to the ground. The game had been going so well up until that point, you were 3-0 up, and you were racing towards the goal with the ball high in the air, your eyes never leaving it as you jumped up to hit it with your head. That was all you could remember. Your teammates rushed towards you, the ball lying forgotten on the grass as the ref ran over. 

“Shit, she’s not moving,” Katie exclaimed, turning around to flag down the medics who were already making their way across the pitch. “Get over here, she needs help, now!”

Leah was knelt down by your side, careful not to touch you in case it was something serious, like a back or neck injury. “It’s going to be okay, y/n,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. She was mostly saying it to calm her own nerves, trying to convince herself you were okay.

“What happened?” Lotte asked Alessia, who was stood anxiously chewing her lip. 

“I’m not sure, I- I was so focused on the ball as well,” she said, feeling guilty for not paying better attention. “She jumped up for the ball and the defender, fuck, what’s her name, the big one, went for it as well, they must have hit heads.” 

Everyone was gathered around you like a protective wall, guarding you from the cameras and the crowd, who were talking quietly amongst themselves, worry rippling through the stadium. The medics carefully moved your limp body onto the stretcher, and the last view most of the girls on the field had of you was your body being carried away. 

Your eyes fluttered open to see the overhead lights of the hallway as the medics carried you towards an ambulance waiting outside. “What’s- what’s going on?” you asked, groaning slightly.

“You’ve had a head injury, y/n,” one of the medics told you gently. “You have to go to the hospital to be checked for a concussion.”

“Oh,” you said weakly, “okay.”

---

The hospital released you after keeping you in for observation for a few hours, determining that whilst you had a concussion, it was only a mild one. The team doctor drove you home, telling you to rest up and make sure to drink lots of fluids. You were surprised to see the lights on in your house, when you pulled up, but brushed it off thinking that maybe you’d forgotten to turn them off that morning. 

When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Leah, Beth, Viv, and Katie sat on your sofa. 

“Y/n!” Leah exclaimed, standing up quickly and rushing over to give you a hug. “How are you feeling? Thank god you’re okay.” 

“Remember, Lee, don’t crowd her,” Katie said with a grin, but she couldn’t hide the concern on her face. 

“How are you feeling?” Beth asked. “Jonas told us that they said it’s a concussion, but not too bad, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said weakly, with a smile. “yeah, I’m okay, mostly. But, um, what are you guys doing here?”

“Oh!” Leah blushed. “Well, we thought someone should be here, so you’re not just home alone, and we all wanted to make sure you were okay- well, the whole team did, obviously, but we thought it’d be better if it was just a few of us so we weren’t crowding you!”

“That’s really thoughtful, thank you,” you said, stomach fluttering at the thought of Leah being so worried about you. “The doctor did say that it’d be better for someone to be here tonight and tomorrow. Sorry, I know it’s our day off, so everyone probably has plans, but-”

“Don’t be silly, y/n!” Leah said quickly, and behind her, Beth and Viv shot each other a knowing look. “We’re all happy to look after you. I can stay, at least tonight.”

“Thank you,” you smiled warmly, before you were hit with a wave of nausea. “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick-” 

You clapped a hand over your mouth as Katie grabbed a bowl they’d put nearby and quickly put it in front of you. Leah held your hair back and rubbed a hand on your back as you threw up, and you grimaced.

“Ugh, ‘m sorry, that was gross,” you said weakly. 

“Here, have some water,” Viv said, holding a glass. You took it gratefully as Katie stood up. 

“I’m sorry, chick, I’m going to have to head out,” she said apologetically, looking slightly queasy herself. “You know I can’t handle sick. But I’ll come round tomorrow to check on ya, with some of the other girls?”

You nodded, feeling your head start to pound. “No worries, thank you for being here. I’m starting to feel pretty tired, actually, and my head is killing me, so I think I might just go to sleep.”

Beth and Viv stood up as well, both hugging you before saying their goodbyes. And then it was just you and Leah. 

“Hey, um, what actually happened, on the pitch?” you asked her. “I don’t really remember much. The doctor said that’s normal, but it’s weird, not being able to remember.”

“Well, it was the 39th minute, I think,” she began, frowning, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she even knew the exact minute. “You were running for the ball, and you went to header it, but that big defender from the other team was going for it too and their head hit yours. Then, well, you just… fell to the ground.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Was the other player okay?”

“She was bleeding a bit, a cut on their head, but she was fine other than that.”

“That’s good. I’m… sorry,” you told her, and she looked confused.

“Sorry for what?” 

“For not paying more attention. I should have seen the other player-” you started, and she cut you off with a vehement shake of her head.

“Absolutely not, y/n, don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” she said.

You nodded, still feeling somewhat guilty, but too tired to argue. Leah chuckled as you let out a big yawn. “Bed?” she asked. “For you, I mean. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“What? Don’t be silly,” you told her, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. “There’s plenty of space in my bed.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Right then, sleepy head. Did the doctor say anything about sleeping, or anything we should watch out for?”

“Um, just that it’s important that I rest a lot, I think,” you frowned, suddenly not sure. “I don’t really remember. Oh, I think she gave me some paper with information on it.”

You found the info sheet in your bag and showed it to Leah, who read through it quickly, nodding. “Well, let’s get you to bed.”

It wasn’t the first time you and the captain had shared a bed. After all, the team was like a family, people sharing beds all the time when you went away or slept over at someone’s house. Still, if you weren’t so tired, you probably would have been more nervous about the idea of sleeping so close to Leah, who you’d been harbouring a crush on for a while now. As it was, you fell asleep fairly quickly, exhausted from the day’s excitement. Leah however, still worried about you, laid awake for a while, thoughts racing. She listened to your slow, steady breathing as she scrolled on her phone, first googling ‘recovery from concussion’ and ‘what to do when someone has a concussion’, despite the fact that she knew full well what the recovery for a concussion looked like from having had one herself just a couple years before. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

“Lee?” you groaned, rolling over in bed as the sun shone through your curtains. “What’re you doing here? Fuck, it’s so bright. Ugh, my head.”

“Oops, yeah,” she said, quickly closing the curtains a little more and dimming the bright morning light. Smiling at you, she sat back down on an armchair in your bedroom, her laptop balanced on the armrest. “Sorry about that, I forgot. Anyway, morning sleepyhead! I slept over, remember? To keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, yeah, right” you mumbled, pressing a hand to the side of your head and wincing in pain. 

“Here,” Leah said, jumping up and picking up a glass of water and some pain medicine she’d put on the bedside table. “Take this, it should help your head.”

You nodded, taking it from her gratefully. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“M’ head hurts. And I feel a bit weird. Head feels fuzzy,” you said, before sitting up. “Wait, what day is it? Do we have training? We’re going to be late!” 

You stood up quickly, grabbing onto the bedpost as your head started swimming. 

“Woah there!” she put her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back onto the bed. “Today is Monday, we don’t have training, remember? We played yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, frowning. “I forgot.”

“That’s okay,” she told you. “It’s normal to be a bit confused after a concussion. My brain felt so fuzzy after mine.”

You nodded. “Yeah, fuzzy is a good word to describe it. Wait, you were here when I got home, right? How did you get in?” 

“I have a key, remember?” she said with a laugh. You’d given her a copy of your key at some point after you started hanging out more outside of training. It came in handy when you forgot your own key, which happened more often than you’d like to admit. “Speaking of, some of the girls are going to come over later, if that’s okay? Or do you want to rest a bit more?”

“Um, I think I'll rest more for now, but it’d be nice to see them later?” you asked, still feeling tired despite having slept in.

“Of course,” Leah said, smiling warmly. “Do you want me to stay? I don’t mind, but I can come back later too, if you want? Or, I mean, I don’t have to come back at all, if you’re sick of me already.” she teased, her voice confident but a hint of worry behind her voice. 

“Oh, if you have something you have to do, that’s okay, you can leave,” you told her, feeling guilty that she was spending her day off looking after you. 

“I don’t have anything to do!” she quickly said. “But, I might do some shopping? I had a look in the kitchen last night and honestly, y/n, I don’t know how you survive. All you had in was some milk, a half empty jar of pesto, and some bread.”

“Oops,” you smiled lazily, the pain medicine starting to kick in. You couldn’t remember what the doctor said it was exactly, but it was strong. “I’ll be okay whilst you go shopping, Lee. I can handle myself!”

She raised an eyebrow at you and laughed. “Yeah, okay hun. Look, I’ll be back in half an hour, an hour tops, okay?”

----

True to her word, 45 minutes later the front door opened. You had slowly made your way over to the sofa after she left, planning on putting some TV on but had ended up falling asleep. Your eyes opened to the sound of the key in the lock, and when Leah came through the door carrying multiple shopping bags you smiled widely.

“LeeLee!!” you beamed, rubbing your eyes sleepily. Oh yeah, the pain meds had definitely kicked in. 

“I see the pain meds have kicked in,” she said with a grin, and you gasped.

“OMG, that’s what I just said! Well, in my head. Said in my head. Ha, that rhymes,” you chuckled to yourself, before getting distracted by how many bags Leah was carrying. It was at least three. 

She laughed. “Is that right?”

You nodded seriously, sitting up. “Yep. Anyway, look at all those bags! You must have bought soo much. And you’re carrying it all! You’re so strong,” you swooned, and her cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them.

“Wow, those pain meds must be strong. They’ve turned you into a right little loopy Lou,” she said as she carried the shopping through to the kitchen.

“Loopy Lou, loopy Lou,” you repeated quietly a few times. “Huh. That’s fun to say.”

“How are you feeling?” Leah asked as she came back, sitting down next to you on the sofa.

“Good,” you said, drawing out the word. 

“Any nausea, any pain?” 

“Hmm, nope! Actually, head hurts a bit. Right here,” you said, poking the lump on the side of your head. “Ow.”

“Yeah, that’d be where you knocked heads,” she said, carefully brushing your hand away from the sizeable lump, and you blushed when her fingers touched yours.

“You’re so pretty, Lee,” you sighed, a dopey smile on your face, and Leah let out a surprised laugh. “And your hands are so nice.”

She raised an eyebrow, curious to hear what else you had to say, but not wanting to push it. “Is that right?” she asked, her voice light. 

“Yup,” you nodded, trying to make your face look more serious, but you got the feeling that it wasn’t working. “So pretty.”

“Okay, y/n,” she laughed, but the flush on her cheeks was undeniable. 

“You’re blushing!” you exclaimed gleefully, poking her dimple with an outstretched finger. “You’re so cute!”

She batted your hand away playfully, still blushing. “Yeah, yeah. You’re the cute one,” she said, not looking directly at you, like she was scared of your reaction. 

“Me?” you gasped dramatically. “You think I’m cute?” 

“Sure do,” she looked back at you and smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes. “But I’m guessing you won’t remember any of this by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you pouted. “But I like that you think I’m cute.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah!” you nodded emphatically, then stopped quickly, wincing at the throbbing in your head. “Oof, ouch. That was a bad idea. Can I have some more pain meds?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll get them,” Leah said, standing up. Despite her excitement at learning that apparently you felt the same way she did, she felt a twinge of guilt, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was taking advantage of the state that you were in. 

“Thanks, LeeLee!” you beamed when she brought you some meds and a glass of water. “You’re the best.”

“Haha, yeah,” she said, shuffling awkwardly. “Um, look, y/n, I’m going to go, if that’s okay? Katie and some of the others will come over in a bit to check on you.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, frowning, and within a few minutes Leah had packed her things and left. 

---------

A week later you were almost back to normal. Your head still hurt a little occasionally, and you preferred to wear sunglasses when up and about, still a little sensitive to bright lights, but the lump on the side of your head had almost disappeared. You’d spent the week recovering at home, Leah by your side for the first day and girls from the team coming by after training every day since. Leah had pulled back somewhat after that first day, and you weren’t really sure why, though you had the feeling that maybe you’d said something stupid when you were on the particularly strong pain meds you’d been given.  

You’d been instructed to come back to the training grounds so that the team doctor could give you a check up and you were looking forward to being back, even if you weren’t officially back yet. You were also hoping to see Leah. The checkup didn’t take long, the doctor declaring that you could come back and slowly start training again the next day, but to take the rest of the day off. You didn’t see any of your teammates on your way to the doctor’s office, and figured that they were outside on the training pitch, which was fair enough, but you were still a little disappointed. 

You left the doctors office and started to make your way to the car park, when the door to one of the changing rooms opened and someone came out, almost knocking into you. 

“Shit, sorr-,” they said, holding out a hand to steady you, when you both looked up at the same time. “Y/n! Hi!”

“Hey,” you said softly, looking at Leah. You still felt like things were weird, but you didn’t know why. 

“Did you just have your checkup? What did they say?” she asked, and whilst her excitement at seeing you felt genuine, you couldn’t shake the sensation that something was off. 

“Oh, that I’m looking good!” you told her, debating whether or not to say anything. “Yeah, they said I can come back tomorrow. Not, like, full steam ahead, obviously, but I can slowly start training again.”

“That’s great!” she said, and then bit her lip. “Um, I should probably get going.”

“Wait-” you started as she began to turn away, and she looked at you with wide eyes. “I, um, did something happen? Did I do something? I feel like you’re upset with me, or not upset but, I don’t know. Something seems wrong.”

“I’m not upset with you,” she frowned.

“Then what’s going on? Please, talk to me, Leah,” you asked, your stomach tying itself in knots.

She sighed. “Do you remember much from Monday?”

“Not really, I guess. I vaguely remember you being there, and then some of the girls being there, but that’s kind of it,” you said, and knocked on the side of your head, smiling wryly. “A concussion and strong-ass painkillers will do that to you.”

She let out a forced laugh and you felt your stomach churn. Oh god, had you embarrassed yourself by telling her about your crush? “Why, did something happen? Did I say something?”

“Kind of,” she said, not meeting your eyes. She thought about lying but had a feeling that you’d know if she did. “You, uh, called me pretty. A few times. And cute. And, um, said that I had nice hands.”

“Oh,” you said in a whisper, desperately fighting the urge to run and hide. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no!” she interjected. “Shit, sorry, no, that’s not what I, uh. No, please don’t apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Why have you been avoiding me then?”

“It’s my fault,” she started, and sighed again. “Look, I said some stuff back, okay? And it wasn’t professional or even just okay of me to do that, whilst you were in the state you were in.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I, well, I might have said that you were the cute one.”

“Okay…,” you said slowly, waiting for the rest. When nothing came, you let out a laugh. “Wait, that’s it? You’ve been avoiding me because I told you I think you’re cute, and you said it back?”

She shuffled her feet, looking down. “Well, I didn’t want to be taking advantage of you!” she protested, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I hardly think that counts as taking advantage of me,” you lightly countered, stepping closer to her, emboldened by her confession. “So, you think I’m cute, huh?”

“So, you think I’m pretty, and cute, and have nice hands, huh?” Leah retorted, the guilt and worry she had been feeling fading away.

“Sure do, Williamson,” you smirked, taking another step towards her, figuring that you’d already told her once so you might as well admit to it. Now you were only a few inches away from her, and as you glanced at her lips and back up to her eyes, she reached up a hand to cup your cheek. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss against your lips, and you tried very hard to ignore the way your stomach felt like it was flipping, focusing on the way her lips felt against yours, something you’d spent so long imagining. 

“You know,” she said as she broke away, smiling teasingly. “Last week you kept calling me LeeLee, not Williamson.”

[love-fictional-ppl]

Bf!James Headcanons

Summary: sfw + nsfw headcanons for bf!james

Pairings: James Potter x gryffindor!fem!reader, platonic!marauders x fem!reader, platonic!lily evans x fem!reader

Warnings: language, James is a simp, nsfw stuff duh, underage drinking, switch!james, boobjobs, mention of pegging, cum (idk i think im js kinda fascinated by cum), oral(male and female receiving), breeding, slight choking, contraceptives, way more I just don’t feel like listing.

A/N: characters are set in their 7th year.

SFW:

First off, we all know this man is a simp for his girl. Like he is down bad.

This man will go and buy you candy from Honeydukes, he will buy you all sorts of stuffed animals, you name it.

Give him homemade gifts! He loves it! Collages, bracelets, small gift baskets, flowers and flower crowns

James absolutely loves when you have a shared class with him, the way you walk hand in hand to the class and sit a seat away from him. He constantly is passing notes back and forth with you and getting in trouble for it, but he doesn’t care one bit.

Sirius loves to tease James for how “pussy whipped” he is. James can’t even deny it.

Permanent puppy dog eyes when he looks at you.

Surprisingly good at gossiping with.

You steal his clothes and he is perfectly fine with it, in fact he prefers it. Sometimes he’ll even bring you a random piece of his clothing bc he wants you to wear it.

You were James’ date to the Yule ball. Sirius spiked the punch. Remus was a victim of the punch.

Oh god. One time the marauders went out to the shrieking shack and got super drunk, James wouldn’t stop whining for you. When the boys came back they sent Lily to fetch you. You got stuck sitting with one very intoxicated James Potter in the common room, you both wound up falling asleep on one of the sofas. The next morning you were woken up by James running to throw up.

Loves to take you on picnics next to the Black Lake. This boy can’t help spoiling you.

He just sneaks in the kitchens and the house elves give him all the food for your dates.

James’ parents adore you, their house is practically your second home.

You come to every quidditch game, you wear one of his scarves and wear as much gryffindor clothing as you can.

You scream James’ name and cheer for him, you give him a kiss after each game and you give him a little more than kiss when they win.

Play with his hair. He will start purring.

He smells like grass, sandalwood, cigarettes from sitting next to Sirius and aftershave

Will use your lotion, perfume, lipgloss, chapstick, boy don’t care.

NSFW:

Oh my lord. James is in love with your body. He wants to touch every part of you all the time.

mating press, full Nelson, cowgirl, missionary are his favorite positions. And let me tell you, he knows how to hit.

Boob jobs. He’s obsessed with them, he loves to make it messy by cumming all over your face and tits.

Ultimately James is a sub leaning switch. He’ll fuck you just how you want tho don’t worry.

James loves trying new things. He will come to you with porno magz he snatched from Sirius asking you timidly if you want to do that stuff.

He has the highest sex tolerance ever. James’ always hard and always needs to go, he can fuck 3-4 rounds b4 he’s down.

Peg him.

He’s so loud when he’s subbing. James will moan and whine and babble at you. When he’s in charge tho… he’ll dirty talk and groan and grunt, occasionally a whimper.

He loves to cum on you, on your face, tits, ass, thighs, pussy. He wants to see you drenched in it. He loves how messy and gross you look after.

James loves to cum inside of you also, he has a massive breeding kink. He will keep pumping you with his loads, so make sure to tell him to stop and learn sum morning after spells.

Prefers giving head over receiving. Don’t get me wrong, he loves blowjobs but he loves the taste of your pussy a tad bit more. James eats like a god too. He will overstimulate you just so he can slurp up your juices.

The blowjobs are great in their own way, the soft warmth of your mouth, how expertly you work his cock, oh and the gag reflex that drives him crazy. He almost busts on the spot.

He loves to fuck you in the showers after his games, his way of blowing off steam. After a particularly hard game, his hand may snake around your throat causing your vision to blur and you to lose your breath.

Getting handled by James is the definition of getting manhandled like a rag doll. He forgets his own strength.

He hates condoms, would rather pull out or some other contraceptive.

Baby is definitely a pervert and steals your panties, you know but just don’t care since he always returns them. He takes them to sniff and lick sometimes James wraps them around his cock and masturbates to the thought of your tight little cunt.

He is a fan of degradation and praise, giving and receiving.

Mommy kink. He will suck on your tits too, if you could produce milk, he would love it. Just wants you to baby him.

He has really sensitive nipples, do what you want with this info.

Good with after care, he’ll clean himself up then grab washcloth and wipe you down, afterwards lying down, cuddling you and thanking you.

Not proofread! I was bored ash so do what u want with this😭 ngl I kinda wanna write a stepdad!james fic next

[sattlersquarry]

the great divide (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU, the sequel to orange juice) After your miraculous return to the land of the living, you aren't doing well.

Word Count: ~12k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation. The reader has panic attacks and intrusive thoughts about Not Wanting To Be Alive. If that will be triggering for you please don't read this (read my happier bloom series instead). there's also an allusion to a relapse, slut-shaming, and allusions to sex (although there's no smut, it just gets slightly steamy). this fic is angst + hurt/comfort with an optimistic ending. inspired by noah kahan's music (including this amazing demo on instagram).

a/n: please let me know if i missed any warnings. please don't read this if you think it will be too triggering. the last thing i want is to make someone upset! but writing this was cathartic and helped me work through some things, i think. writing is magical!

🫀🫀🫀

THE GREAT DIVIDE

SOMETIME IN 1987

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since you last saw your friends. It feels like a fucking long time.

You woke up on the ground of the Upside Down, covered in dried blood and terrified at the sight of Vecna towering above you.

He brought you back to life. He wanted to send you back home and use you as a soldier and spy, the same thing he did to Will, Billy, Heather, and countless others.

“If you do this,” Vecna had growled, “You can once again see your family. Your friends. Your beloved Steven. Otherwise…you will die here.”

You refused, not interested in being his lackey. He tried to flay you anyway, but he was weak from the hell Nancy, Steve, and Robin rained down on him, allowing you to escape his clutches.

He stalked you for days, finally catching up to you—but you got the upper hand, using Eddie’s spear to stab him. Repeatedly.  

Killing Vecna caused the gates he opened to sew themselves back shut before you could get through. You were glad that your friends no longer had to worry about Vecna and his army of monsters pouring through the four gates, but it meant you were trapped on the wrong side of the universe.

Vecna gone meant the Upside Down could revert back to what it was before he arrived. Now, the sky of the Upside Down was a buttery yellow, and it was much warmer. You saw patches of green grass and flowers starting to grow in various spots around town. But it still felt like a nightmare.

You wander the Upside Down each day with a routine: avoid monsters, forage for food and clean water, and visit the gates to see if any of them reopened. Food and water aren’t as hard to find as you feared, since the world isn’t so much of a poison, desolate nightmare anymore. But the gates stay staunchly shut, much to your chagrin.

You miss your life. You miss Steve. You miss his laugh, his smile, his kisses, his touch. You would do ungodly things to see him again.

You hope he’s okay. Any time you want to give up, you remind yourself that if roles were reversed, Steve would keep fighting to come back to you no matter what.

And, to your pleasant surprise, he does just that.

🫀🫀🫀

AUGUST 1987

It’s been three months since you returned to the land of the living. You’re not taking it well.

Surviving the Upside Down meant constantly being in fight-or-flight, scrambling to find food and clean water while avoiding demo-creature attacks. Without Vecna’s evil influence, the animals weren’t so bloodthirsty—but they still needed to eat.

You were able to avoid them, surviving yourself off disgusting canned food from the Upside Down’s version of the Big Buy and whatever houses you ransacked. It wasn’t very appetizing. It made the meal you were serving up today seem like a 5-star, 5-course delight.

It was neither of those things. It was for a church potluck that your mother had a hand in throwing. Lots of casseroles and carbs. She dragged you along to volunteer in hopes to get you out of the house.

Ever since you left the hospital in May, you’d only ever left the house to go to doctor’s appointments, therapy appointments, and Steve’s place. Your parents wanted to encourage more of a well-rounded life and schedule, and although they’d never admit it, you figured they hoped you’d turn back to your normal self. To the person you were before it all happened.

You think she might have died.

As you plate some macaroni and cornbread for your next patron, you sense eyes on you. You glance over and see two women at a table a few feet away. To your chagrin, they’re gossiping about you.

“I mean, it’s appalling,” an old bat named Shirley hisses. “She claims to have lost her memory after the earthquake and gotten lost, but it’s obvious that she just ran away.”  

“Probably thought she was grown up, that she knew better than her parents,” Mildred says with a sniff, adjusting her too-big glasses.

“I can’t believe she left poor Steve Harrington high and dry,” Shirley adds.

Your heart clenches at the fact that these women see you as a villain, as an irresponsible idiot who up and left everyone who loved her out of spite. If they knew the truth…if they knew the nightmare you’d survived…

It only gets worse from there.

“You know what Cynthia told me?” Mildred says. “That her cousin’s roommate’s friend’s brother saw Y/N working a street corner in Manassas. It's just shameful.”

Anger burns through you, hot like hellfire. So, what? You’re not just a flake—you’re a slut to this people now, too? What happened to ‘loving thy neighbor’ and ‘forgiveness’ and all that shit?

“Can I get some more of that?” an elderly man says.

It snaps you back to your task at hand: dishing out food to hungry churchgoers.

“Ah, yeah,” you say. You dump macaroni on his Styrofoam plate. “Sorry. Here you go.”

The man smiles and ambles off. You take a deep breath and try your best to tune out the whispers of the chattering hens.

Your mother must notice the scowl on your face. She makes her way to you, practically floating, as graceful as ever. She’s totally in her element. She deserves a daughter who doesn’t clomp and stumble her way through life. Who doesn’t jump at every loud noise and sleep with a hunting knife under her pillow.

“Doing all right?” your mother asks you, giving you that sympathetic look that you think you might despise by now.

You muster up a smile of your own and nod.

Your mother can’t tell its fake and beams.

“See?” she says. “I knew getting you out of the house would turn that frown upside-down!”

She doesn’t know about the Upside Down. She thinks you got injured in the earthquake, stumbled through the Indiana woodlands, and got found by cops two states over. That you couldn’t remember where you came from due to amnesia, that since they pronounced you dead no one assumed you were the missing girl from Hawkins until your memories came back.

You let her comment slide and fake a smile, figuring it’s better to pretend you’re fine than feel it all.

🫀🫀🫀

That night, you chat with Steve on the phone. He’s gone back to college for the fall semester and you miss him terribly.

He promised he’d come back to Hawkins every other weekend. He knows how hard it’s been for you coming back. Or, he says he knows. Sometimes, you get the idea that he doesn’t really understand.

How could he? Every time he tries to get you to open up about what happened and what you went through, you shut down.

However, when he asks how your day was, you decide to be honest.

“It sucked,” you say. You blow out a huff of air. “These old crones were being total bitches at the church potluck. Apparently, the new conspiracy theory is that I was turning tricks in Virginia.”

“Ugh, I’m so sorry Y/N,” Steve says. For some reason, the sympathy in his voice makes you wince.

“But it’s fine,” you say quickly. “I don’t care what they say about me.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay if you do, you know,” Steve says, speaking slowly and carefully as if he’s worried about setting you off. (For good reason; you’ve been prone to outbursts of anger lately.)

“I know!” you say, defensiveness seeping into your tone. “But I don’t give a shit. Really.”

“Good,” Steve says. But he sounds unconvinced. “You shouldn’t.”

Another pause. It lasts a little too long for your liking. You clear your throat.

“I should probably shower and head to bed,” you say. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says. You don’t understand why he sounds almost intrigued by the prospect of your boring nighttime routine until he says, “A shower with you sounds like heaven right now…”

Shit. You’re really not in the mood for phone sex. Even if that’s not what Steve is angling for, just slightly flirty banter doesn’t sound fun to you either.

Steve has been a total gentleman ever since you got back. You’ve kissed a little, but anytime he tries to take it further, you stop him. As much as you longed for him in every sense while in the Upside Down, you don’t feel ready to re-engage in those kinds of activities—like you’ve been shot back to the insecure, unconfident person you were before you started dating Steve.

He respects those boundaries and never, ever presses for more. But you worry he’s getting bored and wants to get back into old habits, possibly evidenced by his shower comment.

You’re a coward. You don’t tell him outright that you’re not in the mood, afraid he’ll have an out-of-character reaction and chew you out for being a prude or a tease.

“Huh?” you say. Steve starts to repeat his salacious comment, but you interrupt with: “Bad…connection…can’t…better…”

You hang up the phone and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

🫀🫀🫀

OCTOBER 1987

It’s a Thursday in October, and you’re taking a trip for the first time in a long time.

“You have everything you need?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Toothbrush? Extra socks? Lambchop?”

You huff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms like a petulant teenager.

“Mom! I’m an adult. I do not need a stuffed animal.”

“But you packed her, right?”

You mumble out a “Yes” as she pulls up to the parking lot near Steve’s apartment building.

You applied for spring admission at the University of Indiana. Your lovely boyfriend invited you to stay with him for a few days so he could show you around campus for homecoming weekend.

Tonight is the unofficial campus tour with “Tour Guide Steve.” Tomorrow, you’ll help him and his friends put the finishing touches on a homecoming parade float, and Saturday is the big football game.

Before your disappearance and assumed death, your parents were insanely strict about you staying the night with Steve and wouldn’t have allowed it. Now, they’ve mellowed out—but you hate thinking it’s because of some kind of twisted pity.

Steve must have seen your mom’s minivan pull up from his apartment window, because he jogs over to you before you’ve even grabbed your bag from the trunk.

“Hey, babe!” he says with a beaming grin; the picture of exuberance. You can feel his excitement roll off him in waves. You feel like an asshole for matching his energy. Even though you’re excited for time with Steve, you have a pit in your stomach at the thought of being away from home for so many days.

Of course, if you get accepted to U of I, you’ll be away from home for weeks at a time. You try not to think about that.

Steve hugs you tightly, and you hope he can’t sense your apprehension.

He seems not too, still smiling as he gives your mom a quick hug and then offers to carry your duffel bag for you.

You give your mom a hug goodbye, promising to call if you want to get picked up early.

You and Steve wave as your mom drives away. After dropping your bag off at his apartment, Steve takes you on an abridged campus tour that ends at the dining hall. He wants to introduce you to his friends.

He has friends here. Of course he does, you’re glad he does. No one should feel like they don’t have friends, or like their girlfriend is their only friend. But what does it mean that your boyfriend is your only friend lately?

Nancy’s off at Emerson. As for the Hawkins crew, Jonathan’s busy with family stuff, helping Joyce and Hopper renovate their new house. Eddie’s preoccupied with his band, trying to get Corroded Coffin off the ground after a he-was-accused-of-murder hiatus. And Robin’s a student at Roane County Community College, spending her days with marching band and classes and clubs and work.

They’ve started inviting you to things, and sometimes you go. You usually don’t have much fun, distracted with your own anxieties and unable to think of anything interesting to say.

So, the fact that Steve seems to have moved on from everything so easily and has a pack of friends at college makes you feel pathetic, even though it shouldn’t.

At the dining hall, Steve introduces you to his buddies. When Steve lived on-campus last semester, Gus was his roommate. Now Steve’s moved into his own apartment off-campus, but the boys still hang out often and play together on a club basketball team.

Jessica is Gus’ girlfriend. She has a kind smile and compliments your sweater.

The last friend in their clique is Rochelle. She’s tall and slender, like a supermodel. Apparently, she and Jessica grew up together and are good friends.

Everyone greets you happily when Steve introduces you—except Rochelle, who looks you up and down like she’s inspecting you. It makes you uneasy.

You immediately start to dislike her more when she laughs loudly at Steve’s jokes and squeezes his shoulder flirtatiously.

“You are tew much, Harrington,” Rochelle says, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder.

It makes you feel tense and jealous and angry and sick all at once.

You’re completely content to listen in silence while the others chat, but then Jessica asks where you go to school.

“Oh, um, here, in the spring,” you say. “Uh, hopefully.”

“That’s awesome!” Gus says. “You get the full Hoosiers homecoming experience a whole semester before having to pay tuition.”

You chuckle and smile. Any good feelings you have about this interaction come crashing down when Rochelle asks, “So, like, if you aren’t a student right now, what do you do?”

“She’s working at Sonic,” Steve says. “Saving up money. Right babe?”

You turn to him, face falling. You’re not working. You tried to apply for a job at Sonic and had a panic attack when you saw the gap in your resume from your 15 months in the Upside Down, so you roller-skated your way home to unemployment.

Did you not tell Steve that? You suppose you “forgot” to tell him about that panic episode.

“Uh, actually no,” you say, furrowing your brow. “Not anymore. I’m just taking a semester off.”

Surprise flashes behind Steve’s eyes, but he recovers quickly. He throws an arm around your shoulders and says, “Right, of course.”

The rest of the conversation is mostly you smiling and nodding along to the funny stories and inside jokes the group shares. When you and Steve get back to his place later that evening, you apologize for not updating him on the Sonic situation sooner.

Steve waves away your apology.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he says.

“But I feel bad,” you say, fidgeting with your fingers while you sit next to him on the couch. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

(You didn’t truly forget. You were embarrassed and didn’t want him to know.)

“These things happen,” Steve says. “I totally get it. For a few months after Vecna and…you, my brain was like scrambled eggs. I’d drink myself to a coma every other night. I definitely didn’t have the sharpest mind.”

You appreciate him for understanding. Except you feel shitty because you’re lying to him about forgetting. It’s a vicious cycle.

The two of you put on a movie, and while you’re lying on the couch with him, you start thinking of something you haven’t done in a long, long time.

You lightly trace your hand up and down the arm that’s wrapped around your middle.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Would you want to…”

You clear your throat.

“What?” Steve asks.

You aren’t sure how to ask for what you want without sounding wholly desperate and/or pathetic and/or like the horniest bastard alive.

“Go to your room?” you say.

“Sure, if you want, we can go to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You laugh lightly.

“No, I mean. You know.”

You wiggle your eyebrows and Steve’s jaw drops. Mouth agape, like a goldfish, his brains seems to short circuit.

The air is charged with something you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Are you sure?” Steve says, a barely audibly whisper. His hand cups your cheek so delicately, and you feel cherished. Love. Seen.

“I am,” you whisper back, before pulling him closer to you for a kiss.

It’s the kind of kiss you dreamed about while you were trapped in another universe.

It makes you feel electric, the same way your first kiss had. That iconic kiss happened because Steve found out you’d never played spin the bottle. In his kitchen late, late at night, he took an empty soda bottle and spun it on the countertop.

He had maneuvered it just right and stopped it with his hand when the bottle neck pointed right at you, like a compass needle finding truth north.

“Well, what do you know,” Steve had said at the time, with a dopey grin on his face. “It’s you.”

“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” you had quipped, “you could’ve just asked.”

And then you two kissed like crazy, amongst other things.

Back in the present, all your hesitancies and qualms about re-engaging in intimacy and sex with Steve are thrown out the window when you feel his lips on yours.

Giddy as if it’s the first time (because, in a way, it kind of is), the two of you break apart and practically race down the hall to his bedroom. Thank goodness for no roommates, because when you’re in there, Steve slams the door and presses you against it to kiss some more, closing the gap between the metaphorical great divide that you’ve placed between you both.

You tug at his shirt, and he pulls it off before the two of you stumble into his bed.

Things heat up, and they’re going great. Steve is kissing and biting your neck, probably leaving a hickey or two, but you don’t mind. His hands are gripping your waist, practically leaving scorch marks in their wake.

You’re loving this. You’re having a great time.

Until you’re not. The trains of thought in your brain all rush from the station at the same time, colliding at a junction on the tracks.

What if you give Steve an infection? Not an STD, but like, an Upside Down sickness. You could be a carrier and not even realize it. Is that a possibility? What did Dr. Owens say last time you saw him?

He advised you not to get pregnant. He said there’s a possibility your future children could have birth defects after your time in the Upside Down. Birth defects! You’re only 21 years old and your body is poisoned. Not enough to harm you in the short term, but the long term effects on you (and your progeny) could be terrible to deal with.

But Steve really wants kids. What if he finds out you can’t give him children and he leaves you? You really, really don’t want him to leave you.

You don’t realize it, but you start breathing a little harder. To Steve, it seems like you’re insanely turned on. Mentally, your brain is on a different plane of existence.

He’s going to leave you because he’s better off without you. He doesn’t realize it yet but one day, one day. He will.

Vecna was right. Vecna said Steve would get tired and bored of you. That’s why the monster tried to recruit you, to flay you. That’s why he pursued you across the Upside Down for days, hunting you like a dog until he cornered you at the quarry.

Steve finally takes notice of your erratic breathing pattern. You’re not reacting how you usually do to his kissing. He ceases the lovefest and leans up on his elbows.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You don’t hear him. You continue to hyperventilate, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

And when you stabbed the beast through the chest with the spear Eddie left behind, you didn’t even feel sorry.

Is that the kind of person you are? A sick, violent freak?

But it was self-defense!

But if you hadn’t tried to draw the demobats away, you wouldn’t have been in that situation. You went against the plan. You caused all the bad things that happened to you.

You’re a bad person. A bad omen. A bad girlfriend. A bad daughter. A—

“Hey, can you hear me? Y/N?”

Steve’s soft, slightly panicked, voice brings you back down to reality.

You nod, eyes still shut.

“Sorry,” you say. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened.”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, still speaking quietly as if he’s afraid to scare you. You don’t feel his hands on you anymore, but you sense he’s still close. “It’s okay. Can you sit up? I think you should drink something.”

You sit up slowly and open your eyes. Steve looks frazzled, but he musters up a smile when he hands you a glass of cold water.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

You don’t respond, just take a sip.

“Can we just go to bed?” you say after a moment, voice cracking.

Steve nods and gives your knee a gentle squeeze.

“Of course. And, hey, listen, we don’t have to have sex anytime soon, okay?”

“But—”

“No, seriously,” Steve says, shaking his head vehemently. “I mean, of course I like having sex with you. Probably too much.”

You snort and shake your head, a small smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

“But you know I don’t mind waiting. Right?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I know.”

But as you lie awake, tossing and turning, your brain continues feeding you lie after lie, and you find yourself believing the opposite. Prude, tease. Bad girlfriend. Bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

The next morning, you, Steve, Gus, Jessica, and Rochelle work on a homecoming float for the club basketball team the boys are on.

It’s fun at first. The parking lot is filled with floats for all different student organizations. Someone is playing music a bit too loud, but the energy is electric.

It takes a turn when Steve rushes off with Gus to get more supplies.

While you’re kneeling by the float trying to staple tinsel trim around the edge, you hear Rochelle and Jessica whispering conspiratorially on the other side. They can’t see you due to a large papier mâché basketball blocking you from view.

You're awash with embarrassment, feeling warm head to toe, when you realize they’re talking about you.  

“You know what Mollie told me?” Rochelle said. “When she and Steve were hooking up last year, he called her Y/N, like, three times.”

Your heart shrinks. You didn’t know Steve had been involved with anyone while you were gone. In fact, he said the opposite.

“That’s kind of sweet though, when you think about it,” Jessica muses. “But I wonder what caused Steve and Y/N to break up and then get back together. I’ve never dreamed of breaking up with Gus.”

“I heard some other super freaky stuff about her,” Rochelle says. “My sorority sister, Tina, is from Hawkins too. Apparently, Y/N had, like, amnesia or some shit after that earthquake thing. And she was like missing.”

“Damn,” Jessica says. “That’s crazy. How’d she remember stuff and get back home?”

“Who gives a shit?” Rochelle scoffs. “That’s obviously a cover story. Tina said the real story is probably something much simpler. Like she ran away to become a stripper but couldn’t hack it because she doesn’t have a good body. And, well, we’ve seen that firsthand.”

Anger and shame courses through your veins, and you tug on the hem of your sweatshirt. You’re comforted only a miniscule amount when you hear Jessica come to your defense.

“Don’t be such a jerk. And we have no idea what really happened so stop making shit up, mkay?”

“I’m just repeating what I heard. But Tina’s right, her whole deal is so weird. I can’t believe she’s Steve’s girlfriend. He deserves better.”

Those words echo in your head. He deserves better. He deserves better. You’ve been thinking that a lot yourself lately.

You don’t care if Jessica and Rochelle see you when you toss your stapler onto the ground and stomp off.

“Oh, shit,” you hear Jessica say. “Nice going, Roche.”

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t know she was creeping around!”

As you beeline through the throngs of float-makers, you bump into Steve, holding a box of glittery something. He grins at you.

“Hey, where’s the fire?”

When he notices the grim look on your face, he sobers up.

“Whoa, what happened?”  

“Who’s Mollie?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Steve pales. He swallows hard, grip on the box loosening. He gingerly sets it on the ground next to him and shrugs.

“No one.”

“Liar.”

Steve glances around before leading you away from the crowd to a secluded spot on the outskirts of the parking lot.

“She really was no one,” Steve repeats. “Just some girl I had a class with. I was lonely and she liked me, so we went out twice.”

“I heard Rochelle say you hooked up with her,” you say. You cross your arms and try to keep angry tears at bay. “You told me you didn’t find anybody else.”

“I didn’t!” Steve says, a little louder. He clears his throat. “I meant that. We almost hooked up, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

You sigh and shake your head. You want to believe him so badly. But the voice in your head that’s been so cruel to you lately isn’t convinced.

“Do you still think about her?”

Steve scrunches up his face, wholly confused at your line of questioning.

“What? No, of course not. Like I said, we hung out twice, had one near-miss, and then never spoke again. Babe, is everything okay?”

He reaches a hand to your arm and you flinch away. Your action makes him frown deeper.

You rub your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. “Just tired.”

A beat. You think Steve’s going to accept your answer, until: “Why are you lying to me?”

“I’m not lying!” you say, irritation creeping into your tone. “I’m just tired. Okay, Steve?”

Steve fidgets from foot to foot. He’s starting to look as agitated as you feel. With an annoyingly calm, even voice, he says, “I think you’re not being honest.”

“And I think you should shut up,” you fire back, before you can stop yourself.

Steve’s face contorts into a frown, the line between his brows deepening.

“Whoa, what the hell?” he says. “Why are you being like this?”

“Because I just found out you lied about not being involved with someone while I was gone!”

Steve rubs his face with his hands, as if he’s trying to scrub away whatever he’s feeling. He takes a deep breath, another one, and then finally speaks.

“Y/N, I thought you were dead,” he says, voice strained. “You can’t seriously be jealous of me spending time with someone else because to my knowledge, I was never going to see you again.”

You know you should apologize for your outburst. Tell him about your insecurities, now dialed up to 1000 thanks to Rochelle’s comments. Rejoin his friends at the float like the normal girlfriend he probably wishes you were.

But instead, you find yourself voicing one of the fears that’s been swirling in your brain since June.

“It would be so much easier for you if that was still the case, right?” you ask, softly.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks.

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. “Bringing me back?” He doesn’t react, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. You clear your throat and, louder, add, “Because it would be so much simpler for you to date a girl like Mollie or Rochelle.”

“Jesus, Y/N,” Steve groans. “Don’t bring Rochelle into this.”

“Why not? She’s obviously obsessed with you!”

“Yeah?” Steve scoffs. “Well, I don’t like her. I like you.” He shakes his head, as if he’s short-circuiting, and corrects, “I love you!”

Too late. You already heard the Freudian slip of your worst nightmare. He doesn’t regard you in the same way he did before your so-called death. You’ve changed too much.

You shake your head vehemently.

“No,” you say. “No. You loved the girl I was before it all happened.”

“You’re still the same girl!”

“I’m not!” you shout. You’re so angry, so upset, so emotional, you can’t stop. You’re floating above your body and watching yourself speak when you say, “I’m not. She’s gone, and sometimes I wish you’d never brought me back so I wouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve goes still once more. When he finally replies, his voice is dangerously quiet: “How dare you say that.”

You hadn’t expected that. You’d expected him to swoop in with comforting platitudes. To hug you and promise it would all be okay. To truly hear the words you’re saying—the thoughts you’ve been too afraid to voice in therapy, thoughts you’ve sugarcoated in your mind to lessen that bitter feeling on your tongue when you finally speak them aloud.

“What?” you whisper. Your eyes sting, unshed tears collecting on your lash line.

“How dare you say that,” Steve says, shaking his head. He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. He runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh so hollow, you can practically hear the echo in his ribcage. “That’s so fucking selfish that you wish you were still down there. I was miserable without you. I didn’t want to go on. I didn’t think I could!”

He's not getting what you’re trying to say. You open your mouth to reply, to apologize, to try and fix things, but Steve continues.

“So for you to be so callous, to think so little of me, to think I’d rather date some vapid airhead just because it would be ‘simpler’? To think I somehow can’t love you anymore because of what you went through? That’s just…bullshit!”

You heave out a sob as tears roll down your cheeks. Steve’s expression morphs into one of guilt. He swallows hard.

“Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to tell me my feelings are bullshit!” you snap. You sniffle and roughly wipe your tears away, before jabbing a finger into his chest and pressing in. “Ever since I’ve been back, it’s all about how everyone else feels about it. You and my parents are so much happier, and you seem to think I can snap back to how I was before and forget it all happened and be grateful that I survived. Well, I can’t!”

Despite your distance from the parade planning festivities, you see a few curious students glance in your direction. You can’t be bothered to care.

“I don’t know how to go on with life like normal after 15 months in that hell, and no one understands what I’m going through!” you yell. “No one has been through that! And I’m miserable and scared and anxious and I’m lying to my therapist week after week because I can’t even verbalize what I’m thinking without feeling like I’m losing my goddamn mind. So sorry if sometimes I wish all this would go away.”

Steve’s facial expression cracks your heart in seventeen pieces. He looks devastated and confused.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, somewhat cautiously. “You’re right. I’m not handling this well, not seeing it from your point of view. But this is the most you’ve expressed how you’re feeling about it all. For the past few months, I—I don’t know. I thought you were feeling okay.”

You sniffle again and shrug.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “This is good, I think. Well, no, it’s not good that we’re screaming at each other in the quad. But getting our feelings out is—”

“I want to go home,” you say, cutting him off.

Steve closes his eyes, sighs softly, and nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll drive you back to Hawkins tonight.”

“No, I want to go now,” you say, voice cracking as you try not to cry harder. “I want my mom to come get me.”

Hurt flashes on Steve’s features. “Babe, are you sure? I really don’t mind. I want to, actually. The drive will give us more of a chance to talk.”

But you’re too tired and overwhelmed to talk anymore. Steve understands, though his shoulders are slumped as the two of you walk back to his apartment.

He offers to pack your bag while you call your house. Your mom picks up on the second ring.

“Hello, Y/L/N residence.”

“Mom?” you sniff. “Can you come get me?”

“Oh, of course sweetie!” You hear the jingle of car keys. “Wait, are you crying? What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

“I just don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Did you and Steve have a fight?”

“His friends were really mean,” you say quietly, deciding not to disclose that you indeed got in an argument with Steve. “This girl, Rochelle, said one of her friends from Hawkins is telling everyone I was a stripper.”

“Oh, don’t you listen to that.”

You can’t hold back tears as you begin to cry harder.

“How come everyone makes up those dumb rumors?” you say through sobs. “And if people on campus already know them, how much worse will it be if I’m a student here?!”

Your mom soothes you over the phone before promising to get there as quickly as possible. As you hang up the phone, Steve comes in from down the hall, frowning and carrying your now-packed duffel. He doesn’t even try to be subtle about his eavesdropping when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me Rochelle said that to you?”

You shrug and look down at your feet.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I keep replaying our conversation in my head,” he says, “and I feel like an ass.”

“You’re not, Steve.”

“No! I am. I absolutely am. You were honest and vulnerable, and I immediately got mad. I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say flatly. Admittedly, you’re not sure if you forgive him yet. But you know you didn’t treat him well either, so you say, “I’m sorry too. I was insensitive. I know you had a hard time while I was gone—”

“But it’s nothing compared to what you were dealing with,” Steve says. He steps closer to you and intertwines your hands together. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“My mom’s already on her way,” you say. “And you should rest up. Tomorrow’s the parade, and the homecoming game.”

“I don’t need to go to the game.”

“Steve—”

“I’d rather come back to Hawkins this weekend,” he continues. “Spend more time with you. Talk things through, you know? Maybe I can just ride with you and your mom, and Munson can bring me back Sunday.”

He’s sweet. But you aren’t sure how to tell him that you really, really don’t want to be around him right now. You don’t want to be around anyone, really.

You take a deep breath, gently drop his hands, and say, “I think I need some space.”

You can’t look Steve in the eye, but you hear the pain in his voice when he says, “Oh. Um, okay. Yeah. Of course. Space.”

You two sit in awkward silence while you wait for your mom to arrive. When she gets there, Steve continues to be a gentleman, carrying your bag for you and politely making small talk with your mom. He gives you a hug goodbye, but it doesn’t linger the way his hugs usually do.

As your mom drives away, you watch your boyfriend get smaller and smaller in the side mirror.

Before leaving, you promised him you’d call him that night.

You conveniently “forget” to do that.

He leaves a message at 9:37 p.m., asking you to call him back.

You don’t.

🫀🫀🫀

NOVEMBER 1987

“Hey, babe. It’s Steve. Again. I know we agreed on ‘space’ but I haven’t heard from you in three weeks…I don’t want to rush or smother you, but I’d really like to talk, even if it’s for, like, five minutes. So please call me back. I love you, Y/N.”

-

“Hey Y/N. Are you doing okay? Robin says she saw you and your mom at the store the other day and you just seemed kind of…out of it. To be honest, I’m worried about you. Listen, even if you don’t…even if we…even if you’ve decided you don’t want to be with me anymore, or something, I still care about you. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Please call me. Bye. Love you.”

-

“Hi Y/N, I’m coming back to Hawkins for Thanksgiving. Can I come by after you and your parents have dinner? I want to check in. On how you’re doing, and on how you’re feeling about ‘us.’ Let me know, okay? Bye, Y/N.”

-

“Hey. I’m going to swing by your place after I’ve finished Thanksgiving dinner with the Buckleys. Robin told me you’ve been avoiding her too. And Eddie, and Jonathan. I know you’re going through a tough time, but don’t try to do it alone. That’s a lesson I learned the hard way last year. I’ll see you tonight, all right?” 

🫀🫀🫀

You’ve spent the past month and a half wallowing. All you really do is sleep, eat, shower, and take short walks around your neighborhood for exercise. Any time Steve calls the house phone, you tell your parents to let it ring and let it go to voicemail.

It’s shitty of you, but you aren’t sure how to dig yourself out of this hole that you’ve found yourself in. You’re still feeling rather undeserving of Steve.

So when he shows up on your doorstep on Thanksgiving, wearing that maroon sweater that you’ve always just adored, the first thing you do is apologize for your radio silence. Then, you offer him pumpkin pie.

“I won’t say no,” he says. “As long as you split it with me.”

While your parents cuddle on the couch and watch It’s A Wonderful Life, you and Steve sit on the kitchen counter and eat slices of pie with whipped cream.

For a few minutes, you exchange small talk and pleasantries. Then, Steve gets down to business.

“How have you been doing, really?” Steve asks.

“Fine. Just tired.”

“Y/N,” Steve says with a sigh. “Please just be honest with me.”

You suck in a breath.

“Okay. You want honesty? I’m having a really hard time.”

“I know,” Steve says gently. “And I want to help. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”

You consider it. You consider wrenching your heart open for him and admitting all your fears and insecurities. But last time you broached this subject with Steve and tried to be wholly honest about what you were feeling, you didn’t explain it right and he took it the wrong way.

And you also hear what sounds like Rochelle’s voice in your mind: He deserves better. He deserves better.

You save yourself the trouble and say, “I need to get my shit together. And I’m not being a very good girlfriend while I do, so I think we need to break up.”

Despite your best efforts to stay strong, you feel tears coming on. Everything only worsens when you hear Steve whisper, “What?” 

He deserves better. He deserves better. He deserves better than you.

“I have to focus on myself right now,” you continue as the tears roll down your cheeks. You stab your pie with your fork and say, “I’m sorry. I love you so much—”

“I love you too, Y/N, so I—”

“—but I need to deal with this on my own. It’s not fair of me to treat you like this.” You clear your throat and add, “You deserve someone who can give you everything you want.”

“You’re what I want,” Steve says. You can’t look at him, but you get the impression that he’s tearing up too. “I mean, if this is really what you want, I’ll respect your decision completely, but I just have to know—is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

You don’t want to do this—

—but he deserves better.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Steve says after a beat. “Even if we aren’t together anymore, I’m still here for you. You know that, right?”

You nod, still decimating your pie slice with your fork.

“Okay, good.” He sniffles.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to keep apologizing.” 

“Sorry. Ah, I mean—”

Steve chuckles, despite everything. You two share an awkward hug goodbye before he leaves.

You stay in the kitchen and hear him wish your parents “Happy holidays.” As you hear the front door open and shut, as you hear his car turn on and drive away, you try to convince yourself this was the correct choice. That shutting him out means he’ll live a happier life without you.

The pit of emptiness like a chasm in your soul will go away eventually, right?

🫀🫀🫀

FEBRUARY 1988

It’s been 3 months since you broke up with Steve.

You decided to defer your U of I enrollment. Steve, being a good friend, calls a few days before the semester starts asking if you’d like help moving into your dorm, and you break the news to him. He understands but sounds disappointed. It makes you feel terrible.

But this is the right choice. You aren’t ready to be away from home, away from your parents, even if it’s just a couple hours away.

You start taking community college classes to fill your time and get some credits, along with working at Bradley’s Big Buy as a stocker. It’s mindless, monotonous work. It’s kind of perfect.

What isn’t so perfect is your therapist, Elaine. She’s nice enough. But she doesn’t seem to get it. You aren’t able to fully tell her what you went through, considering she knows nothing about the Upside Down, so she can’t really help you.

When you start opening up about the dark thoughts worming their way through your mind, Elaine advocates strongly and staunchly for putting yourself out there and making new friends to fill the void. You’re starting to wonder if you’re wasting your time shelling out $50 a week.

You do think a better social life would be good for you, so you invite Robin, Eddie, and Jonathan to come over to your place for a horror movie marathon. (Nancy would be invited too, if she wasn’t away at school.) You’ve rented a D-level slasher trilogy about a man in a hockey mask attacking pageant queens. It’s small potatoes compared to what you’ve actually been through.

Jonathan agrees, but both Robin and Eddie tell you they can’t make it. Robin because she’s got the flu. Eddie because he has band practice all afternoon and into the night.

It stings like a barb ripping you open when you swing by Melvald’s for cheap movie candy and spot the two of them across the street, laughing as they head into the Hawk with…Steve, who must be home from school for the weekend.

So they do want to have a movie night. Just with Steve and not you. Message received.

You wonder if Steve said something to sour you in their eyes. You thought the breakup was amicable. You know he was upset by it, but he respected your decision. And he doesn’t seem like the type to badmouth an ex, especially after all you’ve been through together.

But anxiety rolls through your nervous system the rest of the day. As you and Jonathan watch the crappy movies, you just feel numb.

“Jee-sus!” Jonathan yelps as the killer’s chainsaw hacks through someone’s limb.

He glances your way, eyebrows raising. “What? That didn’t scare you?”

You shrug. “I’ve seen worse.”

Jonathan’s brow furrows. He leans over and pauses the movie.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? We can watch something else. Or, if you’d rather be alone, I can head out.”

You pick at a loose thread on the pillow in your lap.

“Are Robin and Eddie mad at me?” you whisper.

“What?” Jonathan says with a laugh. “You’re, like, the nicest person in a fifty-mile radius. Why would they be mad at you?”

The old you was nice. The current you is moody. But Jonathan is also pretty moody, so maybe your moodiness is baseline in his eyes.

“They both said they couldn’t come tonight,” you continue, “but then I saw them just an hour ago in downtown Hawkins heading into the Hawk with Steve. Why else would they make up excuses not to come unless they were mad?”

Jonathan takes a long, slow sip of his grape soda and shrugs.

“It’s probably because they don’t want you to think they chose Steve over you in the breakup.”

“But that’s exactly what they did!”

“Maybe not,” Jonathan says. “Maybe they just made the plans with Steve before you invited us over and it’s easier to turn down your invitation than cancel on him.”

That’s a very logical way of looking at it, but it still stings feeling like you’ve lost two friends since you and Steve aren’t together anymore.

You and Jonathan continue watching, but his mom calls halfway through the second movie, forcing him to leave early—something about El using telekinesis to turn her bed into a bunk bed and it backfiring horribly.

You try to push your worries out of your mind, but paranoia takes a hold. As you toss and turn in your bed that night, clutching Lambchop for a semblance of comfort, your brain bullies you.

Robin and Eddie are pissed at you. Probably because you haven’t gone to any Corroded Coffin shows since you’ve been back. You’ve been a little preoccupied.

A little selfish, more like. It doesn’t matter what you’re going through. You should still support your friends.

But why? You don’t like drinking alcohol anymore because you don’t like feeling out of control. And the Hideout is the only place Corroded Coffin plays, and that place reeks of booze and cigarettes and bad decisions.

Maybe that’s why Eddie’s mad. Is Robin mad by proxy? Did Steve shit-talk you to her? How did he describe the events of the breakup?

Were you a bad girlfriend? Are you a bad friend? Bad person?

Yes. You’re a bad person.

🫀🫀🫀

You happen to run into Robin on the community college’s campus the following Monday. You can’t help but ask if she’s feeling better.

Her eyes widen and she plasters on a smile.

“O-oh, yeah!” she says. “I’m feeling loads better. Tons! Tons better.”

“Your sinus infection is gone?” you prompt, knowing full well she told you it was the flu.

“Yep! All gone. My sinuses are as healthy as can be. I feel like I could live to be 100!”

You exchange a few more pleasantries and shuffle off.

🫀🫀🫀

MARCH 1988

There’s a dark cloud hovering over your mind. Most days, you’re lethargic. You go to classes and go to work, and you do start going to the Hideout on Tuesday nights with Jonathan and Robin to watch Eddie play with his band.

But that’s the extent of your social life. You’re feeling lonely and drained.

Things take a turn for the worse in March. It was a cold, cold winter in Hawkins, and spring is shaping up to be warmer but just as gloomy. Really bad thunderstorms shake the windowpanes of your house most days, and the streaks of lightning remind you so much of the grayish-yellow Upside Down sky, it makes you sick.

You can’t help but find yourself thinking you want to disappear to escape it all. Not die, exactly. But fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. Maybe when you woke up, things would be better.

You try to explain what you’re feeling to Elaine the Therapist, and she doesn’t understand what you meant in the slightest.

“Have you gotten checked for narcolepsy?” she asks.

You give her a tight smile and say you’ll ask your doctor about it at your next checkup.

A bright spot is when Robin invites you to a party at her apartment. You forgot her and Eddie’s little white lie from a few weeks ago and RSVP yes.

The party is going well. You’re having a nice conversation with Jonathan and Eddie when Steve walks in, and he’s not alone.

Your heart sinks to your feet, through the floor, and all the way to the core of the earth when you see Steve is joined by Rochelle.

You don’t even hear any of the conversations happening around you. You quickly excuse yourself to the kitchen for a glass of water—and because you need to be alone.

You get about 15 seconds of a reprieve before Steve enters.

“Listen, it’s not what you think,” he says quickly.

“Hello to you too, Steve,” you say. You can’t even look him in the eye, choosing instead to study the ice cubes in your glass.

“I’m not here with Rochelle,” Steve continues. He runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, yes, she’s here. And I’m here. And we’re here together. But not together together! God, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“None at all.”

“She needed a ride to her parents’ house for the weekend,” Steve explains. “She lives just forty-five minutes from here. But I guess they were out of town, and she didn’t have a key, so she’s staying with me. And she didn’t want to spend all day in my house alone, so—”

“She’s here,” you finish for him. You finally look him in the eye and force a smile. “That’s fine, Steve. You can hang out with whoever you want.”

“Trust me,” Steve snorts. “I’d rather not be hanging out with her. I’m just doing her a favor because she’s friends with Jessica and Gus.”

Before you can respond, Rochelle saunters into the kitchen. She smiles like a shark—all gums and teeth.

“Oh, it’s you!” she says. “Y/N! How have you been?”

“Fine,” you say politely. “How about you?”

“Oh, just great. Really great. Sad to not see you around campus, though. I thought you enrolled?”

She has the impressive capability of making everything single sentence sound like an insult.

“I’m going to community college instead,” you explain. “But I really should get back out there.”

You give Steve and Rochelle a wide berth before stepping back into the living room.

The rest of the party goes by fine. Except you can’t quite contain your rage watching Rochelle throw herself at Steve all afternoon.

She sits too close to him. She constantly whispers in his ear and giggles, like they’re sharing inside jokes and secrets. While Robin’s putting on a movie for everyone to watch, you swear you even see Rochelle put her hand on Steve’s thigh.

The only thing that makes you feel better is that Steve blocks every one of these advances. While Eddie regales you all with a Corroded Coffin storytime, you even notice Steve's slotted himself in between Robin and the wall, forcing Rochelle to stand off to the side near a potted plant.

When the party’s over, you wish Robin well and try to slip out unnoticed. Unfortunately, Steve has a terrible habit of noticing everything about you, and he follows you out.

“Hey, wait up!” he calls, jogging behind you as you speed walk to your car to avoid the sprinkling rain.

“Sorry, I have to go,” you say, struggling to unlock your car door.

Before you can get it unlocked and make your escape, Steve places a hand over the driver’s side door handle.

“Hold on,” he says. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“Well, I have to get home—”

“This’ll take five minutes,” Steve promises. He traces an X over his heart. “Cross my heart, hope to cry.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion. “It’s ‘die.’”

“Huh?”

“It’s ‘Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye.’”

Steve’s eyes widen and jaw drops, affronted. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “Why would anyone ever want to do that?”

“That’s the point!” you say, and you can’t help but laugh at the appalled look on his face. “You don’t want to do that, so you keep the promise.”

“Ah. Okay, well, I’ll be fast. I just want to see how you’ve been doing these past few months. I—I miss you, you know?”

You swallow hard. The rain’s starting to pick up now. You don’t want to wait too much longer to drive home, or else it’ll be too hard to see. And if you see lightning, you’ll probably have a panic attack behind the wheel, making you a danger to yourself and others.

“I miss you too,” you say. “But I really, really need to get home now.”

You think of leaving it at that, but your heart feels as sad as the look on his face, so you add, “But you can come by my house later tonight and we can talk? Uh, how’s 8 sound?”

Steve’s face brightens. He gives you that smile that always makes your stomach do a backflip.

“I’d like that,” he says.

You smile back and open your car door. Before stepping in, you turn to him and say, “Do not bring Rochelle.”

“Cross my whatever and hope to who-gives-a-shit!” Steve says as he walks backward away from your car. You give him a small wave, which he returns, before getting in the car and driving off.

As you suspected, the drive home is much, much too anxiety-inducing. Thunder seems to shake the whole frame of the car as you drive across town. Rain falls in pails, as if angels are taking buckets and throwing them on your car specifically. Your windshield wipers can barely keep up, and cars are honking and passing you since your fear is causing you to drive about ten under the speed limit.

You try not to let that bother you as your hands grip the wheel for dear life, the muscles from your fingers up to your shoulders impossibly tense. There’s a reason your mom drove you everywhere last summer and fall. Getting back into the habit of operating a motor vehicle isn’t easy, and everything seems to scare you now.

Despite everything, the drive is going fine—until one of the cars passing you cuts a little too close as they swerve back into the right lane. They almost clip your front bumper, which causes you to panic and swerve off the road near the now defunct trailer park.

Your tires squeak on the wet grass and you slam on your breaks, heart pounding. Shuddery breaths draw in, out. In, out. You try and collect yourself and turn your left turn signal on to merge back onto the main road. However, something gray out of the corner of your eye causes you to whip your head in the direction of the trailer park.

This is where you died and were resurrected—well, the version of this in the Upside Down. In Hawkins, the area is cordoned off. No one can live there anymore, thanks to the big cracks in the earth. Once gates, they were now sealed, but they upended some trailers and tore others in two.

You see a flash of movement between two broken trailers. The gates are supposed to be closed, and there aren’t supposed to be Upside Down creatures in Hawkins anymore, but you can’t help but wonder alternatives. You feel compelled to check it out. 

You turn off your car’s ignition, grab the flashlight from your glove box, and clamor out, ducking under the “CAUTION” tape and jogging into the park. You squint in the rain, the beam of your flashlight scanning the surrounding area. You step over uneven earth, wondering if you’re wasting your time and should just—

“GRRRRRROWWWLLLL!!!!!”

You whip around and gasp. The gray creature you saw wasn’t a demo-creature, but a mangy, stray dog with muddy fur. It snaps its jaws and you see three little puppies cowering under a bush behind it.

An overprotective mama dog wouldn’t have scared you two years ago. You would’ve known exactly how to handle the situation without freaking out. But now, your fear spikes and you remember the few run-ins with hungry demodogs you had in the Upside Down. The dog is blocking your way back to your car, so you turn on your heel and run in the opposite direction, toward the imposing forest.

You can’t think clearly. Your mind is on fire. All you can think is Danger! Danger! Danger! And it’s keeping you from making any rational decisions.

You swear you hear the dog chasing behind you, snarling and ready to attack. You zig-zag between trees and glance behind to see if you really are being chased.

You lose your footing on slick mud, left ankle twisting painfully as you fall to the ground. Your flashlight skitters out of your grasp and rolls away, blinking out.

Now, you’re stuck in the rain, in the dark, with an injured ankle and no flashlight. Thankfully, the dog wasn’t following. But you feel powerless, hoping you can muster any survival instincts from your time in the Upside Down to make your way back to safety.

🫀🫀🫀

At 7:58 p.m., Steve parks outside your house.

He’s more nervous than he needs to be. He tries to remember that this isn’t a visit to win you back, as much as he wishes it was. No, he’s respecting your decision. But he’s glad he has the chance to just talk to you.

After you dumped him, he spent way too much time overanalyzing that fight you two had in October. It solidified the fact that he was an ass, completely misunderstanding you and getting mad for no good fucking reason.

Admittedly, he was tempted to throw away all his progress and drink away his misery. But he didn’t, channeling that energy toward more productive things. His mind is clearer than it was, and he’s going to make it right this time. Steve wants to check on you, the way his friends checked on him while he was having a tough time. Their support was invaluable.

Steve rings your doorbell, shaking out his umbrella.

The front door swings open. Your father looks expectant, before he frowns.

“Steve, hello,” your father says. “Is Y/N with you?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Uh, no,” he says. “I’m supposed to meet her here.”

Your father curses and puts his head in his hands.

“Is it her?” your mother says, rushing around the corner with the cordless phone tucked under her shoulder. When she sees Steve, her shoulders slump. She speaks into the phone, “Hopper, she’s still not back.”

“What’s going on?” Steve asks, heart sinking. “Y/N’s missing?”

“She never came back from Robin’s party,” your father says, stepping aside to let Steve in. “You saw her leave, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a nod. His mouth feels very, very dry.

Your mother continues murmuring on the phone with Hopper, and your father continues grilling Steve: “How was she? Did she seem upset?”

“A little nervous, maybe,” Steve says. He swallows hard. “I, uh, I think she was freaked out by the storm.”

You should’ve driven her home, Steve thinks. You idiot. If something happens to her, it’ll be your fault.

“She’s been so quiet lately,” your father says, voice strained. He clears his throat. “And so jumpy. But she said she wanted to start driving again. We thought she was getting better…”

Your father looks like he’s beside himself. Steve is unsure what to say to make things right.

Your mother hangs up the phone and sighs. “Hopper’s going to go look for her,” she says. She chokes out a sob. “Oh, Roger…she’s been so down lately. What if she…”

“Let’s not speculate,” your father says firmly, though he looks anxious about the possibilities.

Your parents decide to drive around looking for you, and Steve joins the search in his own car as well. He can’t sit idly by knowing you’re out there, possibly in distress, possibly in danger.

🫀🫀🫀

While you’re sitting against a tree trunk trying to shield yourself from the rain, there’s a morbid part of you that’s okay with this.

You wanted something bad to happen. You wanted to be in some kind of distress, because you being hurt means people have to care about you. Right? They have to really, truly see that you’ve been struggling but haven’t been able to ask for proper help.

You snap yourself out of that thought process, trying to remind yourself that people do care about you. But it’s hard to feel that way when you’ve put so much distance between yourself and the people you love.

You aren’t sure how long you sit in the rain having a pity party, watching your swollen ankle get bigger and bigger. You need to ice it and elevate it. And anytime longer in this rain, you’ll catch a cold.

So, you crawl on your hands and knees and find as sturdy a branch as you can on the forest floor. You use it as a pseudo walking stick to help you hobble back toward the trailer park. You know the way, thanks to your time traversing the forest daily in the Upside Down.

As you get closer to the break in the trees, you hear people calling for you. You shuffle there faster.

“I’m here!” you yell, stumbling through the tree line. “I’m here!”

It’s Chief Powell and Hopper, and they look relieved to see you. Officer Callahan and an animal control worker are trying to coax the mama dog and her three pups into crates.

“What happened, kid?” Hopper asks, sitting with you in the backseat of Powell’s truck while the other man radios for an ambulance and a tow truck for your car. The usual gruff timbre to Hopper's voice has a softened edge to it today, like he can sense your emotional fragility.

“Some jerk pushed me off the road. And I thought I saw…I—listen, the mud made the dog’s fur look gray, and I thought it was—”

“One of these hellhounds?”

You nod.

“I’m not sure if you realize this,” Hopper says. “But it’s been two years to the day since you…you know.”

You swallow hard.

“I didn’t remember,” you admit. “I mean, I knew the anniversary was coming up soon, I just…”

“We were all worried you…did something,” Hopper continues cautiously.

“I wouldn’t,” you say, much too quickly. “I mean, I feel like shit a lot of the time, but…no. I wouldn’t.”

Hopper nods, eyeing you. He doesn’t quite look convinced.

When the ambulance arrives, he rides with you to the hospital. Then, your parents meet you at the ER, while a doctor looks over your ankle.

It’s sprained, but not broken, thankfully. They send you home with a brace, some crutches, painkillers, and instructions to elevate and ice.

The whole drive home, your parents give you a speech about how much they love you and how they want to know how you’re doing, and that if you ever feel low, to talk to them because they can help. Normally, that kind of thing would annoy you, but after today—the fear of seeing what you thought was a demodog, of being back in the wilderness by yourself, even just for a few hours—you appreciate the gesture.

It's after midnight when you get home, and the rain has finally let up. Your dad helps you up the porch stairs, leaning the side with your bad leg against him the whole way. You almost don’t notice the note tacked to the front door until your mom points it out.

It has your name on it. You open it. Parts of it have been scratched out, but you can still read it all.

Hey, Y/N. I was driving around looking for you when Hopper found me. I’m so glad to hear that you’re going to be okay.

I’ll swing by tomorrow to chat, if you’re still up for it. If not, no worries. I know it’s a tough time. I just want you to know that I miss you I care about you more than you know I’m here.

-Steve

🫀🫀🫀

When Steve comes by the next day, he’s not alone.

You’re surprised to see him and Max Mayfield standing on your porch.

“Uh, hello!” you say. “How are you, Max?”

“Pretty good,” she says, “now that Steve is taking us for ice cream.”

You raise your eyebrows and adjust your stance on your crutches.

“Oh!” you say. You look to Steve. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Everything about his posture is tense, nervous. You wonder if this is an intervention or something—if you’ll arrive at the ice cream shop and be bombarded by the rest of your friends and a licensed professional promising a “safe space.”

You tell your parents where you’re going, promising a million times that you’ll be careful, and hobble down the porch steps to Steve’s waiting car. He’s a gentleman, one hand hovering behind your back and ready to catch you if you fall.

Max lets you have the passenger seat, likely due to your injury. On the ride over, you consider (politely) asking what she’s doing there, as you expected this conversation would be about the nature of your and Steve’s relationship.

A part of you deep, deep down had hoped he would beg you to take him back. A part of you deeper down felt selfish for that, but it was what you wanted.

You made a huge mistake letting him go.

Steve ends up taking you both to Sonic, pulling into one of the parking spots and pressing the “Order” button. Max leans up from the backseat, sticking her head between the two front seats, and rattles off a complicated order of hot dogs, fries, slushies, and ice cream into the speaker.

“I thought this was just ice cream,” you say with an eyebrow raised.

Max smirks.

“Moneybags Harrington is paying,” she says, patting him on the shoulder.

“I resent that,” Steve grouses. But there’s a sparkle in his eye.

When the food comes, Steve divvies it up amongst the three of you. However, he quickly comes up with a shoddy excuse to step out of the car—something about the fries being a medium instead of a large.

Max climbs over the center console to settle in the driver’s seat.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you’re alone with Max, but it’s definitely not, “Dying and coming back really sucks, doesn’t it?”

Your burger immediately tastes like sandpaper. “Oh, let’s not talk about that,” you say. “Let’s talk about fun things. Have you learned any new skate tricks recently?”

“Don’t deflect,” Max says, waving a french fry at you for emphasis. “Steve said you were having a hard time because no one could relate to you, and I’m probably the only person in the world who can.”

She’s not wrong. After your return to the right side of the universe, you learned that Max woke up from her coma, completely healed, after you killed Vecna and the gates closed. You hadn’t thought about how the two of you had similar, paralleled experiences.

“It does suck,” you say quietly, swirling your spoon around in your ice cream cup. “And I kind of feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“For me, it was a lot of anger,” Max says. She fidgets with her own food as she continues. “I couldn’t understand people’s priorities anymore. Like, what do you mean you’re worried about a chem test, Dustin? A few months ago, the world almost ended!”

“I totally get that,” you say, and your heart already feels lighter. “And my parents don’t understand what really happened, so they just don’t get me at all. Why I get so scared, so angry. So jumpy. It makes me feel like I’m a freak in their eyes.”

“I feel like my mom doesn’t even see me anymore,” Max says. She clears her throat and you catch a glimpse of tears gathering on her lash line before she roughly wipes them away. “Like to her, I’m a ghost.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you say. She scoffs.

“And there’s another annoying thing,” Max says. “The empty platitudes to make us feel better. That shit doesn’t fix anything!”

You’re not offended by her outburst, because you honestly agree. The two of you lament a bit longer, and by the end of the conversation, you’re feeling on top of the world. Sure, nothing is really fixed. But you finally realize that you have a kindred spirit in all this.

You and Max make a plan to do things together more often. You’re seeing her as a de facto little sister already, and you’re hopeful that your planned meetings will be just as beneficial for her as they are for you.

Steve comes back after what seems like a millennium, shooing Max back to the backseat.

“Took you long enough!” she says.

He just smiles.

🫀🫀🫀

JUNE 1988

It’s the first day of summer.

And it’s been a year to the day since you returned.

You expect to feel more anxious than you do. Instead, you feel peaceful.

You’re doing a lot better, genuinely. You found a new therapist (sorry, Elaine) and since it’s someone who worked with Dr. Owens, you’re able to spill all the gory details of your past and your trauma. Healing isn’t easy, but you feel yourself slowly sewing yourself back together again.

You and Max stick to your word and take weekly trips to Sonic. You talk about the heavy stuff, but also the normal life stuff. You sometimes have guests. This past week, Lucas and Mike tagged along, arguing the whole time about what should happen in the Ghostbusters sequel that’s supposed to release next year.

You and Steve…ah, what’s there to say. You want him back, but you imploded the relationship and it feels selfish to waltz up to him and say, “Hey, hot stuff. Wanna get back together?”

However, you’ve officially enrolled for the fall semester at U of I. While he’s home from Hawkins for summer break, under the guise of asking for tips about campus life, you spend a lot of time with him.

You also spend time in the library, doing some studying to catch up before you start your classes in the fall. Your high school graduation was a lifetime ago. Literally.

Steve, Robin, and Jonathan join you for those summertime study sessions, although Jonathan and Robin usually bicker over the music theory books and Steve doesn’t get much done except for doodling in his notebook. But sometimes you catch him staring at you, and then his cheeks flush pink in that adorable way that makes you want to do something stupid, like beg him to take you back.

If only you knew if he really felt the same…

…which you find out he does, during the summer solstice.

You’re at the county fair with your friends, but they’ve all run off to watch the fireworks, so it’s just you and Steve at a picnic table downing sodas and cotton candy.

Your fingers wrap around the cool glass of a now-empty Coke bottle, and you place it on the tabletop. You attempt to look nonchalant as you spin it slowly.

Once it’s picked up momentum, you let it go, watching it spin a few more times before stopping it with your hand when the bottle neck points at Steve.

“It’s you,” you whisper, attempting to recreate that magical first kiss moment from years and years ago. You clear your throat at Steve’s dumbfounded expression. “Ah, sorry. You don’t have to kiss me. I was just…”

To your pleasant surprise, Steve’s face splits into a grin. “Well, gee, Y/N,” he says. “If you wanted to kiss me that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

A million canaries titter a love song in your heart as he leans forward.

The two of you kiss, for the first time in a long time.

The great divide in your soul is starting to seal. And everything feels right.

THE END

🫀🫀🫀

a/n please lmk what you thought 🩵

tags; @aloneinthehellfire @starry-eyed-steve @hollandweather @wisdomssdaughterr @huffledor-able541 @springautumn

@sunshinesteviee @curiositydooropened @crappymixtape

[satorusplayplace]

headcanons on gojo satoru as your classmate pls! can be platonic or romantic :D

Gojo Satoru as your classmate!

☆ pairing: teen!gojo satoru x classmate!fem!reader

☆ content warning(s): cussing!

☆ A/N: i added my own little twist! and i’m so sorry if you didn’t want fem :( i’ll rewrite it! just lmk :) i also made the reader around 5’8-5’10 for my tall girlies!! we need more tall!reader inserts 🥲🫶🏼

you were a student at kyoto’s jujutsu high, while the sashisu group came over for some reason unknown to you. you were definitely caught off guard when you were laying in the grass under a shaded tree when two huge men (boys.) covered some of the sunlight beaming through the tree leaves.

“may i help you?” you asked them both and a girl comes up, you noticed it was shoko! shoko was your childhood best friend!

“SHOOOOKOOOOO~~!” you cried. you haven’t seen her in over two years! you hugged the girl and towered over her a bit. the two boys watched in surprise. they were going to ask you for help and just bother you but now that you know their best friend, they definitely needed to bother you.

“y/n! wow! you’ve grown. seriously.” she says to you, looking at the height difference between you two. you smile and laugh because she used to be taller when you two were younger.

“y/n huh… we’re your new classmates. you’re transferring to tokyo’s tech now, a request from the higher ups and yaga.” gojo says to you. you look at him and nod. you already knew you had to transfer, just didn’t know it was this soon…

✰ oh gojo as a classmate is annoying!!

✰ he didn’t care for you at least but after a few months you would hang out with their group. making you apart of the sashisu group.

✰ gojo started to crush on you after you would buy the group gifts often. you remembered his favorite things and after that, he hung around you as much as possible.

✰ “y/n!! you brought me kikufuku!!” he pouts and hugs you.

✰ gojo tended to follow you to your dorm room as well knowing after certain hours, the boys shouldn’t be on the girls side.

✰ “y/n!! mochi!! let meeee innnnnn!!!! PLEASSEEEE!! i wanna hang out with you.” you always let him in because of his whines.

✰ oh it was so obvious with how much he liked you. he teased you in class, in the hallway, on missions, everywhere

✰ he couldn’t help but flirt with you time to time, making suguru and shoko run away from you two. and you ended up falling for his charm.

✰ “y/n!!! you’re like mochi, so sweet…” and he ended up kissing your cheeks.

✰ oh the feeling of embarrassment flushing over you was overpowered by how much you wanted to kiss him.

✰ when you ended up kissing his lips after months of relentless teasing, he was blushing from how unexpected it was.

✰ when you guys got together. it was sooo annoying. he couldn’t help but have his hands everywhere on you. even your face, as much as you adored the man, it was annoying!

✰ when he noticed how touchy he was being, he always pouted and stopped himself from touching you, to the point where he didn’t even touch you at all.

✰ “satoru, i swear to god, if you don’t fucking cuddle me, i will literally break up with you. fucking kiss me already.”

✰ least you say, he was very content that night.

✰ satoru’s the perfect classmate, always helping you. he just wants you to ask him. not anyone else, only him.

✰ he just loves your attention

✰ he loves your height. omg. he doesn’t have to bend down too much. but also it’s perfect because he likes your legs…

✰ do not leave him alone for a long period of time!!! he gets sooooo pouty and whiny.

✰ overall, gojo is a 10/10 classmate and boyfriend. he just wants to marry you already.

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'

A/N: And here I am, still writing and I am here for it. I am actually trying a lot here.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: mentions of blood and torture

Summary: Y/N shares how she escaped 'hell'.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story includes mentions of abuse.

Words: 4300+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter One

LOGAN HOWLETT - 'HELL'

Y/N was lying on the grass, enjoying the warm sunlight rays. Her right hand was in the air as she tried to make the force come out in a ball-shaped form. She finally made some progress.

Charles helped her train in his office. He aimed to teach her to make a protective shield around another person. Two weeks in, she made some progress. But the goal was still far away. On the other hand, she did learn something new. 

The ball-shaped forcefields were bewitching. Y/N could admire her power up close. It was a thin blue layer of radiant energy with a hint of silver sparkles. Beautiful. She hoped to get better and become useful. Now, she had the chance after all those years. It brought tears to her eyes for many reasons. 

If only I could get you out. 

The nightmares appeared every night. They changed, playing twisted games in her sleep. It was hard to close her eyes. Her past, her present, it all got mixed. They were suffocating her. And his face kept coming back to her. 

“How’s it going with her training?” Hank asked the Professor. He was standing at the window, watching Y/N in the distance from the office. 

Some of the teachers, the X-Men, were present, discussing the newest addition. The last one who entered the conversation was Logan, smoking his cigar. One look from the Professor, and he extinguished it against his palm. He gritted his teeth when he felt the burning sensation on his palm.

“She’s making progress,” said Charles with a smile. “We still have a lot of work to do.”

Storm walked to a window, watching the kids enjoy the sunny afternoon outside. And there, far away, she noticed Y/N practising her little forcefields. “Her ability is convenient, powerful. She would be great on missions.” 

“That is the plan. I want Y/N to be able to protect other people, too. She can create the forcefield around herself and in smaller forms. It might take us more time before she reaches her goal,” said Charles. 

“I don’t like her,” Scott confessed to them. “There’s something off about her.” Everyone’s eyes were on him. 

“What, that she doesn’t want to let anyone in because she doesn’t trust easily?” Storm glared at her friend. 

“She’s not telling us something.” 

“Would you tell your life story to a group of strangers you know for two weeks?” Kitty added. “If there is something off about her, the Professor would tell us.” 

Charles sighed and turned to his friends. “There is something I need you all to know.” 

“He, there it is,” Scott grinned. 

That single sentence got everyone’s attention. Charles wheeled into the middle of the room, eyes looking at every person present. Logan frowned. Storm was intrigued, and others kept their faces neutral. 

“Years ago, when I had been searching for more mutants, I managed to find Y/N. At that time, she was a teen who happened to discover her mutation. The plan was to bring her here. I wanted to send Hank to get her.”

“Why didn’t you?” Logan asked. 

The Professor sighed. “She kept slipping off.” 

“What do you mean?” Jean asked, confused. 

“When I wanted to find her location, she was nowhere to be found. Not as a mutant or a human,” Charles explained. “I thought she died. And then, months later, I stumbled upon her again. As I tried to reach her, she slipped again.”

“Oh, right,” Hank said. “I remember you thought there was something wrong with Cerebro.” 

“The Cerebro was fine. Until this day, I have no idea how it kept happening.” 

“So, she’s a telepath?” Bobby asked. 

Charles shook his head. “There was a time when I believed she was. It would make perfect sense. Only strong telepaths can shut their minds. That would explain why I couldn’t reach her.” 

“So, when you saw her the first time since Logan brought her, you knew who she was. You didn’t need to read her mind?” Storm chimed in. Her eyes kept staring at the Professor.

“That is true. However,” Charles turned to face Logan. “The fact that you found her was a mere coincidence. You two happened to be in the right place at the right time.” 

He didn’t comment on it, only shook his head in disbelief. “Is that all, Charles? Or is there more to this story?” He suspected that the Professor wasn’t telling them the whole truth. 

“This is all you need to know, now.” 

Groans echoed around the office. That answer didn’t bring enough satisfaction. What was he not telling them? Logan was ready to push his buttons. He needed to know more. Everyone deserved the truth. With a sigh, he stood back. “Why so mysterious?” 

“I will tell you more once I have more answers,” said Charles calmly. “For now, all we need to do is to help her train. She wants to be better. She suffered enough, and she wants to turn her life upside down.” 

“She asked you not to read her mind,” Jean raised a brow. 

“I don’t need to read her mind. We talk a lot when I teach her. I promised not to look in. When I met her, it all came screaming at me. All you need to know is I trust her.”

Scott scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s it?”

The meeting ended shortly after that. Everyone dispersed around the school. Logan’s legs brought him outside, his eyes quickly finding the young woman far away, resting on the grass. 

For the last two weeks, he didn’t talk to her much or see her for that matter. He observed from afar. Logan noticed how she started to open up to some of his friends. She tried to get to know each member of the school. Storm, Kitty and Rogue spent most of their time with her. With them, she was able to laugh freely and smile. Damn, that smile. He wanted to see it more.

He frowned. Why did he think that?

He saved her ass, and now she felt like a magnet. He tried to resist, but it was hard. Would it be that bad to know her more? He brought her here, where he promised she’d be safe. And from what he had learnt, Charles knew about her existence for a long time. 

Sighing, he moved forward. He took out the cigar that he hadn’t finished and smoked on his way to her. His eyes lingered on her body, eyeing her from head to toe. Compared to their first unexpected meeting, she seemed relaxed and happy. The bruises were gone. Only faint scratch marks remained.

Her hand was still in the air, creating small forcefields. The need to talk to her got stronger.  As if she were a water that would extinguish Logan’s thirst. Fuck, he wanted to know her more. 

“Hey, kid. How’s the trainin’ going?” he asked when he was close enough for her to hear him. 

Y/N turned her head to the side, eyes locking with his. “It’s fine, I guess,” she said with a fleeting smile. “I am trying to figure out how to make a forcefield around another person,” she explained. 

“Any luck?” he leaned against the nearest tree. He held the cigar with his fingers.

“No,” she sat up. “I got better at creating it in the shape of a ball. It still does glitch. But it’s a step forward. If only I knew how to project it around another person.” 

“It cannot be that hard,” he raised a brow. “It looks so easy.” 

She laughed at that. “If only. It requires a lot of concentration and energy. I can protect a person if they are next to me. I can wrap us into the forcefield. That’s about it.” 

A gentle smile appeared on Logan’s face. “Like you did when I took you out of that dive bar.” 

Her eyes widen. “Oh yeah,” she nodded. “I forgot about that. It was wild. I remember fragments of that day. Shit, the last days before you brought me here are kind of hazy.” She stood up from the grass and wiped off her lower back and ass. 

Logan’s eyes followed her every move. “Wanna walk with me?” the question was out before he could think about it. Even he was surprised he had asked that.

“Sure,” she nodded. “I wanted to explore the estate a little more.” 

Side by side, they walked away from the school and the noise. The estate reminded her of a gigantic park filled with trees, surrounded by nature and peace. She noticed there were well-trodden pathways. The students must have walked around the place many times.

“How did you get to that bar anyway?” he had to ask. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I kept walking until my feet brought me there. All I knew was to get as far away as possible.” 

He took a deep breath. “What happened to you?” 

Y/N bit her lower lip and looked somewhere away. “Um,” she hesitated. Was it wise to share it already? “I escaped a lab. I was a guinea pig for five years,” she admitted. 

“What?” It was hard to believe what she said. Why was he so surprised? He had his suspicion about this before.

“Yeah,” her eyes were focused on the ground, ashamed of the story. “I’m surprised they didn’t kill me. Five years to keep a mutant for an experiment is a long time. Before you ask, I have no idea how I managed to survive the torture and imprisonment for that long. Those years are a blur.” 

“Shit,” he sighed. “Sounds like a hell of a life.”

Y/N lifted her head, scanning Logan’s face. “The Professor didn’t say anything to you?” When he shook his head, she was impressed. “And here I thought you would already know about everything.” 

“It’s your story to tell, Y/N. It’s up to you if you want to share it with us,” said Logan. 

Out of nowhere, she started to giggle. Logan didn’t understand what was funny. “You know, you don’t seem that kind of a guy who does this a lot. But it’s nice.” 

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes. He took another drag of the cigar. And Y/N laughed a little more. “When did you discover your mutation?” 

The smile disappeared. “I was around fifteen when it happened,” Y/N replied. “And it started a life full of misery and darkness.” One of her hands reached for a tree, mapping its texture with her fingertips. After all those years locked up in a lab, she never thought she would feel nature under her hands again. 

Logan didn’t question further. He noticed it was a heavy topic for her. She wasn’t ready to give him the details. Somehow, Logan felt he was the only person, except Charles, who got information about her past. 

“What is your mutation?” It was her turn to ask questions. She wanted to know more about Logan. Even though his rough exterior told the story of a withdrawn, grumpy man, he had the softest eyes. Were they green? They seemed like it. 

They stopped walking. Logan turned to her and brought his hand to his chest. When he closed it, three metal blades slid out of his skin. 

Y/N’s mouth opened. “Shit,” she cursed. “Does it hurt?” 

“Every time. I’m used to it by now,” Logan said. “They are made of adamantium.”

“Adamantium?” 

“One of the strongest metals on Earth.” 

Her fingers reached to the claws. Logan’s eyes followed her moves. She wanted to touch them. Before she could, she put her hand away. “Sorry, it’s just fascinating.” 

Logan’s heart skipped a beat. “Well, that’s a first,” he commented. “No one said anything like that before.” 

“I’m sorry,” she took a step back. “I didn’t want to overstep. Never had much opportunity to admire other mutations.” 

“It’s fine.” The claws retracted into his skin. Y/N’s eyes noticed the wounds instantly close and disappear. Her hands quickly reached for his hand, fingers caressing the spots where the lesions would be. 

Logan couldn’t believe what he had witnessed. It’s been a while since he felt such a gentle touch on his skin. Her hands were soft and delicate. He cleared his throat. “I heal quickly. In a matter of seconds,” he explained before she could ask. 

Her eyes lingered on his hand until she realised what she was doing. “Oh, sorry,” she let him go and hid her hands behind her back. “That was rude. I am so sorry.” 

She made him feel things he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It made him flustered. “That’s okay, kid.” 

The intense moment ended, and they moved forward. Y/N’s face was burning hot, embarrassed by what she did. Her mind focused on the trees and the pleasant weather around them. The air was warm even though it was autumn. The leaves were sparkling with a range of colours, coming from green to yellow. Some of them were red. It was her favourite season of the year.

“I’ve heard you save mutant children,” she changed the topic as they approached the school grounds. 

“Charles finds them, and some of us would collect them,” he explained. “I was on a mission to get a child that needed our help. Unfortunately, it was a failure. The facility was a trap. I was glad I got out. Later that night, I stumbled upon you.” 

Y/N pressed a hand against her chest. “What facility?”

“The one hidden in Salem,” he replied. “Why?” 

Y/N felt as if her soul left her body. All colour drained from her face. “Oh god,” she brushed her fingers into her hair. “It’s my fault,” and then she hid her face in her palms. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he turned his body to her. “What are you sayin’ there, kid?” 

It took her three deep breaths to look him in the eye. He wasn’t angry. It looked like he was concerned. “I was locked there, in the lab, for some time. I escaped a few days before we met.” Panic bubbled inside of her. “I know who you were looking for. I know the kid.” 

That night, that moment, it all came rushing back. It was like a movie, reflecting in front of her eyes. She felt it all: the pain, the horror happening in front of her eyes. She knew the child. He helped her escape. And she couldn’t take him with her. His screams echoed inside her mind. 

Logan gripped her shoulders. “Y/N, look at me.” He said her name for the first time. That did the trick, and she looked up, eyes meeting his. “There you go. Take a deep breath.” He could see she was listening.

“I have to tell you what happened,” she whispered. “You need to know. It’s my fault you went to a trap.”

Logan brought her inside the school. His hands rested on her shoulders as he walked with her through the hallway. When something happened, all the teachers would gather around immediately. Professor X would call them to his office. 

He helped Y/N take a seat on an armchair. A bottle of water appeared in front of her. It was levitating in the air. It was Jean’s doing. 

“What’s going on?” Hank was the last one coming inside, closing the door behind him. He had a white lab coat on him, and his glasses were on the tip of his nose.

“This better be good,” Scott scoffed. His hands were wrapped around Jean’s shoulders, holding her close. 

“Stop being a dick, dude,” Remy scowled. “Keep your mind shut.”

Y/N glared at Scott. He was the only person who didn’t sit right with her. That’s why, most of the time, she would ignore him. Luckily, he was sweet to Jean. 

She grabbed the floating water bottle and took a sip. “Logan told me about the failed mission,” Y/N started to talk. Her voice was low and timid. “He told me he went there to get out a child. He went to a facility that was in Salem - the same place where they held me.” 

Charles tilted his head, listening carefully. His face remained neutral. No one could read what he thought.

“I know the kid,” she told them. “His whole body can stretch as he wishes.” 

“Elasticity,” Hank stated.

“How did you escape?” Kitty’s voice interrupted the stream of Y/N’s thoughts. 

“There were five of us locked in that lab. We were in cells designed to suppress our mutations. It made sure we wouldn’t harm anyone or try to escape. That changed when they brought in JJ.” 

“JJ?” Logan questioned that name. 

“Jerome Junior,” she explained. “For an eleven-year-old, he was cunning. Because he was the youngest, he had the most energy. The rest of us were barely holding on. 

“Never underestimate a child. That’s the greatest advice I’ve learnt in there. I don’t know what happened or how he did it, but the doors to our cells opened. Somehow, he was able to get us out. That’s when hell on Earth started. To get out, we destroyed the place.” 

Y/N could feel the smell of chemicals and fire around her. As if she was back there, trying to get out of prison. 

The pain in her body was excruciating. After all those years of experiments and torture, she was almost free.

There were bodies on the floor - killed guards and scientists as well as two other mutants who shared the hell with her. They got them before she could put a forcefield out to protect them. So much blood was on her hands and face. When she looked down, there were red puddles. The smell was nauseating. 

“Let’s go,” one of the mutants shouted. The man was bleeding from his thigh and arm. 

“Where’s JJ?” Y/N asked, looking for the kid. She lost him during the fight. “I’m not leaving him here.” 

“We don’t have time to get the kid. They’ll kill us if we don’t leave!”

She was turning around, trying to find a way to get to him. “I said I am not leaving!” 

“Fuck this, I’m out,” said the mutant and fled the scene without anyone else. 

Limping, Y/N ran out of the destroyed lab and walked through the hallways until she found a swarm of guards holding the child. Guns pressed against the boy’s head as they put a collar on his neck. It beeped once, and a tiny light turned green.

JJ’s eyes found Y/N standing on the other side of the room. He did one last thing before they packed him into a truck - he shook his head. It was a sign for her to leave. Her vision blurred as tears hit her eyes. The boy got them out, and she couldn’t save him. 

“I tried to get him, save him, but they took him away,” her voice broke. She let the tears fall. “He was eleven, for fuck’s sake. He somehow got us out. I wanted to do the same thing for him, and I couldn’t.” 

“How do you know it was him?” Jean asked. 

Y/N thought back, trying to get to the point when she realised he opened the cells. “I remember him stretching his fingers. He must have found a trigger on the table that opened the doors.”

Ororo reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You did your best. You tried.” 

“It’s not enough,” she shook her head. “Even now, I feel like a traitor.” The story was not over. “When I left the building, I wandered for a few days,” she continued. “I got some old clothes and hid everywhere - in the woods, old buildings. Without energy, I happened to injure myself more. I even took a fall before I found the dive bar. My body was in pain, my head a mess, and I don’t remember much when Logan got me out.” 

Silence spread around them. They all let the information sink in.

“When I came to the facility,” Logan started to talk. The attention was on him. “Many soldiers were guarding the place like their own eyes. They were ready to kill anyone who approached the building. I managed to get in but never got far away,” said Logan. “The place was a mess. As if a bomb exploded inside.” 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Kitty spoke up. “Why would they keep the place highly secured if it got damaged and took the child away? Think about it. Maybe they’ll use it as a cover-up. No one would think that the lab was still active.” 

“Kitty’s right,” said Bobby. “In the end, there are only two options. Either they did take him away, or he’s there, well hidden from the world.”

“They did it to evoke confusion,” Jean added to the conversation. 

“Scott, Jean, try to find as much information as possible about the facility in Salem. We’ll be better prepared to take him out of there,” Charles gave instructions.

Y/N jumped on her feet, letting the water bottle drop on the floor. “I’ll go with you.” All eyes were back on her.”I have to get him out.”

“You need to train more,” said Scott strictly. His hands fell off Jean. “You’ve been here for what two weeks? Forget about it. You’re not going on this mission.” 

“Mind your tone, Scotty,” Logan warned him with a snarl. 

“She doesn’t know how to fight or use her ability. She’s a newbie, a trainee. I will not put anyone’s life in danger because of her,” he pushed himself from Jean and approached Y/N. “If we go to get the boy, she’s staying here. Period.” 

Logan was close behind Y/N, ready to step in. But she stood her ground, not afraid of the Cyclops.

Jean reached for Scott’s shoulder. “That’s enough, Scott.”

Y/N approached Scott with one long step, glaring at him. “I survived a lot of things in my life. You don’t know what I am capable of, so don’t underestimate me, Cyclops. And don’t be a dick. I’ve never been rude to you, never did anything to you. So don’t raise your voice at me. I am not afraid of you.” 

“Oh yeah?” he challenged her. “You better start talking about your past life then. We know nothing about you.” 

Her fists clenched hard until her knuckles were white. There was a lot of anger building inside of her. And it showed. The forcefield started to glitch around her. 

“You can’t even control your power, Y/N,” Scott mocked her. “Look what you are doing.” 

“Y/N, please, calm down,” said Charles calmly. “Same goes for you, Scott.” 

She closed her eyes and took a step back, relaxing her posture. She knew better than to get riled up. When her blood pressure lowered, she looked at Scott again, shaking her head in disbelief. What a dick!

Turning on her heel, Y/N left the office without another word. Her walk was brisk, taking long steps to be outside as soon as possible. Of course, there would be a person who would make her freedom difficult. 

I will get you out. 

She wrapped her arms around herself and walked through the driveway to the estate’s main gate. She didn’t want to leave. She needed to walk and think. 

Y/N wanted to get little JJ out of that hellhole before it was too late. Fear crawled through her back, tapping on her head. What if they kill him before they get there? He saved her life. He helped her escape. It’s her turn to return the favour and secure him a better life here in a school for mutants. 

There was another thing that drove her to save the boy. But she didn’t want to open that door. After all those years, it was painful to think about it. 

Fucking bitch! How could you?! Cries were echoing in her mind. Psycho! Murderer! 

“Y/N,” she heard Logan’s voice behind her. That made her halt and sigh. “You okay?” 

She pressed the bridge of her nose. “Yes,” she said. 

“You are full of shit, ya know that?” he laughed. “Just admit that you are pissed.”

She spun around. Her eyes could kill. “I’ll get JJ with or without help. I don’t give a shit what you say. I will be the one who will get him out of that place.” 

“I know,” Logan nodded, understanding. “I won’t be the one who’ll stop you. If I were you, I’d do the same thing. And I would  punch Scott in the face.” 

She couldn’t help but giggle. “You have your way with words, Logan.” 

“I was thinking about becoming a motivational speaker,” he shrugged and smiled at her when he made her laugh again. “Bobby was right. We only have two options, and we must prepare before we leave to get the kid. I was there. I saw how many guards were securing the facility. One or two people won’t do it. We need a strategy.” 

“All I want is to help, get him out of there so he can have a better life than I ever had. I don’t want him to experience that much torture. I need…” she started to choke on words. “I need…” Tears escaped her eyes as she felt the pain inside her soul. Was this a panic attack? Her heart was beating fast. The world was crumbling down. 

Logan was quick enough to close the distance. His hands found her shoulders. “We will get him out. You hear me, bub? I can’t tell you when. We must prepare for the mission and gather information. We won’t make it far without a strategy.” 

She gripped his flannel shirt tightly, holding for dear life. “I worry he’ll be dead.”

He shook his head. “You said he was cunning. He’ll find a way to survive.” Without thinking, he pressed her body against his, holding her. “While we are planning, you’ll be training your power and how to fight.” 

She closed her teary eyes. As much as the hug was unexpected, it was comforting. “Promise me I’ll go with you.” 

Logan nodded twice. “I promise.”

[windvexer]

banishing (how to do it)

yeah this is like all UPG but it works good for me, take what you will and leave the rest behind.

if your response to this is "but most people never ever have to deal with unwanted spirit problems so you're probably wrong if you think it's a spirit! do shadow work and touch grass!" please let me invite you to just not interact with this post at all.

Don't cleanse. Like please don't, why do people do this??

"I am confident an unwanted spirit is in my home and I cleansed but nothing happened."

Okay, an unwanted guest is in your home and you did a bit of vacuuming and washing the dishes, so why are they still there??

Why WOULDN'T they be there?! It's nicer now??? It's better for them to stay?!?!?!

"I want to break up with my boyfriend so I did his laundry but he's still texting me :/"

Cleansing =/= banishing and cleansing should be saved for cleaning up after an unwanted spirit after they are banished, which again, is not accomplished by cleansing.

Stop raising wards that trap the spirit inside.

"I cleansed and put up a protection but that only made the problem worse!"

Yes you did a wash up and locked the spirit inside with you, of course it's pissed off. It's trapped.

If you feel the need for immediate protection when dealing with a spirit problem, craft an amulet that serves as a personal protection for you. NOT one that seals off the entrances to your home.

Once the spirit problem is taken care of and you are confident its presence has been removed, feel free to raise up those wards sky high.

Also, if you are heavy-handed with the warding, spirits can sometimes just get trapped inside regardless. Learn how to temporarily "switch off" wards when you need to so things can leave.

Put your fucking foot down and tell the spirit to leave.

This will solve a surprising number of unwanted spirit problems. Not all of them, and come on, please stop telling people they never need to learn actual banishing skills just because telling spirits to leave works most of the time.

But you gotta do it. And I mean you don't have to be an asshole about it. You don't have to jump right into screaming in the spirit's general direction and threatening all such harm on it.

And there's plenty of good reasons to start with this step, especially if you want to be a spirit worker, but that's neither here nor there. Just tell them to leave.

Go to an area where you think the spirit is, or go where its private and speak with the intent that the spirit will hear you.

(You may also sign or write; would generally not recommend doing this operation entirely mentally)

"Hey, Dude. I know you're here, and I want you to know that you must leave. It is no longer an option for you to stay. I request that you leave immediately, and I request that you do not come back to this place. Leave now and we part ways in peace."

Do not go belly up and beg the spirit. It benefits you to behave with authority and dignity.

DO NOT try to "soften the blow" by twisting your words into something that is no longer a demand that the spirit depart. "Hey, if it's okay with you, I'm hoping you'll leave soon, or as soon as you're able... I don't feel comfortable with you here, and I'd prefer if you went." Great, now the spirit knows how you feel. So what?

Banish the spirit (or human, or whatever).

Presumably we're at this step because the prior step ("bro, seriously just leave and never come back") did not work.

Obtain correspondences heavily associated with banishing, use them to enchant a candle, burn the candle.

Can't use a candle? Try a simmer pot.

No fire at all, including incense? Try a floor wash (test carpets to ensure there will not be staining).

Can't burn things or clean the house? Try a sigil you visualize being imprinted on all the walls of your home.

Can't visualize? Consecrate something to represent the spirit, drop it in a jar of water along with banishing correspondences, swirl it around like a whirlpool, chant about the spirit being washed away.

No waterproof containers? Consecrate something to represent the spirit, stand on the edge of your property, throw it off the edge of the property.

You get my drift -- do magic. Do magic. Do magic that banishes. Use magic specifically to banish. Not to cleanse the vibrations or whatever. Specifically magic intended to yeet a spirit.

At this point, do not try to ignore the problem or keep talking it out. Do not just try to meditate or whatever. Do magic. Do magic that banishes.

Here's a banishing spell if you need it:

Basil, cloves, red pepper

Candle (ideally, red)

Paper and ink

Small offering

Draw the planetary seal of mars and the planetary square on a piece of paper, ideally in red. Dress a candle in oil (*burning your house down is an effective way to banish a spirit but perhaps too heavy-handed; dress with care) and include either one or three dried, powdered herbal correspondences to it.

Dedicate the candle to Mars. ("Planet Mars, someone on the internet told me you'd help me if I asked - I'm asking now. I give this candle to you. It belongs to you now.")

Put the candle near the paper.

Evoke Mars. ("Planet Mars, where your symbol exists so you exist. Where your planetary square exists, so do you exist. The space has been made welcoming to you through the presence of these Martian correspondences.") The martian correspondences are the basil/cloves/peppers, btw ("I ask you to bring your attention now to me. I ask you to dwell fully in this space.")

Read the Orphic hymn to Ares if you'd like a little extra elbow grease behind your evocation.

Petition Mars. ("So please get rid of this spirit, it seriously sucks so bad.")

Offer payment. ("In exchange for this help I know you will provide, I give you this candle and also this [small offering].")

Seal the deal. No, you do not need to be able to receive psychic confirmation from a planet or whatever, but do not proceed if you feel any gut-level bad feelings or suddenly get a ton of anxiety. If that happens, be like, "Mars, buddy, never mind - I get a bad feeling about this, so I'm noping out. Thanks for listening while you did. Leave in peace."

But if you feel fine about moving ahead, just be like, "now I give you Mars this offering, and I light your candle, with full and total assuredness that this spirit will be permanently banished from my space, my life, and my home."

[Light the candle, give the offering]

Cleanse

The spirit should be gone before you put up wards

Residual ickyness can make you feel the spirit is still nearby even if its been banished

Cleanse your space and see if the symptoms of the spirit return.

If symptoms return, the spirit has not been banished.

If they don't return,

Put up wards.

Ya got haunted because ya didn't have a fence up to stop random cows from wandering into the garden of your life and trampling all your hard work. Put up the wards.

Oh, but maybe the banishment didn't work, in which case:

Mitigate symptoms.

I mean yeah, maybe try at least a few more types of magical banishing, call in a priest even. But!

Not every spirit can be banished. That's just the long and short of it.

As humans we have the capacity to intertwine our lives, intentionally or otherwise, with forces that cannot be immediately removed from our presence.

Like if the grand spirit of a forest hates all humans and you build a house in the forest, you're not going to be able to banish the forest from the forest, you feel me?

Sometimes, banishing isn't the solution.

As rare as it is, it happens. Make personal protections, use mirror or other illusory wards to hide from its attention, make reparations if possible, avoid attracting attention, and get on with your life.

[sparrowssally]

*cracks knuckles* Yet another PSA about the Tennant and Sheen families…

Alright, here goes it. I don’t give a fuck if you ship Aziraphale and Crowley. I’m a huge shipper of them myself, so it’s all good! Love them, want the world for them, etc etc. HOWEVER, if you want to:

1. ship David and Michael romantically

2. want to use shipping David and Michael as an excuse to be blatantly misogynistic against their respective partners (Georgia and Anna)

3. want to allege that they are being “trapped” in their marriage by their partners “strategically” having kids

Then get the fuck off my blog. Seriously. There’s no place for you here.

You’re literally hoping that David Tennant, a man with five kids, will leave his wife of 12 years (whom he clearly loves) to end up in a hyper-sexual romantic relationship with Michael Sheen, who would also have to leave his partner as well, with whom he has two young children and who he seems very happy with. You’re literally wanting happy families to get broken apart so that your selfish ship can sail. It’s disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

I get wanting to have queer representation, it’s greatly needed and there is always room for more of it. However, wanting to assign a queer identity to someone who hasn’t publicly acknowledged that they identify that way is NOT okay. I don’t care who they are, celebrity or not. If you want to see queer representation, then Aziraphale and Crowley are RIGHT THERE. Don’t wreck real people’s relationships with their partners—and their friendship with each other—just because you want your ship to sail. If for some reason David and/or Michael want to come out in the future on their own, then that’s for them to do when they feel comfortable, and speculating about their identities without them saying anything is just weird and gross.

AND ANOTHER THING! All y’all who write essay-long posts analyzing every single social media thing about Michael, David, Georgia, and Anna: y’all need to get a fucking life. Go outside. Touch grass. PLEASE stop treating these very real people like they’re puppets in your grand romance story. I guarantee you that their lives are probably not NEARLY as fascinating and scandal-filled as what you think they are. And believe it or not—because I know y’all LOVE to use this as “evidence”—people are allowed to not be all smiley and lovey-dovey in selfies and photos with their partners, and for many people, teasing their partners is part of their relationship! *gasp* I know right?? Shocking. It literally doesn’t mean anything that Georgia and David tease each other or that Michael and Anna tease each other, and that they all occasionally aren’t smiling in photos with each other. That’s normal person behavior and I’m begging y’all to understand that.

I know this post probably isn’t going to be seen by the weirdo people who need to see it the most, but whatever. I just really needed to get this off my chest.

[kopilot-pop]

hi, about the yunjin starbucks controversy.

i’m gonna try to be as fair as possible talking about this controversy, but i’ll be honest i’m leaning more on yunjin’s side. i’ve been getting several requests on yunjin and i feel like i need to get this off my chest every time i see her name on my page.

let’s start off with the facts: yunjin was caught drinking starbucks in Korea (in front of the company building.)

I thought she drank it on a post or somethrong but no, it was just a few pixels of a low quality picture fans took. And that’s my first minor problem; she wasn’t on live, it wasn’t a post, it was a few milliseconds of pixels. But I get the ‘performative activism’ controversy, it DOES feel like she’s hiding it.

However, my take is that she just got out from her car, and wanna know a little fun fact? Most snacks and drinks that all idols are seen eating are most likely bought by their managers. And it’s a fact that Koreans aren’t currently boycotting Starbucks as actively as western foreigners are. So my thought the first time I saw the picture was that. The manager probably just bought coffee from whatever shop was closest, and handed it to her.

But I do understand how that can feel like reaching so I did some more research .

The biggest thing I have to so called ‘defend’ Yunjin is that Starbucks Korea is completely separate from International Starbucks (source: ChosunBiz).

In 2021, 67.5% of Starbucks was comepletely bought by E-Mart (a branch of Shinsegae), and the rest 32.5% was bought by a Singaporean investment comapny (GIC).

So oh, Starbucks Korea has no affiliations with the part of Starbucks that sues their worker’s union.

However, I can make the argument that Yunjin could influence others to ignore the boycott and buy Starbucks. Is it true that she has several international fans and alot of impressionable fans? Yes.

But then we have to go back to our first argument; it was a few milliseconds of a low quality video.

And after finding that out, I started to feel like all the people commenting about “starbucks queen💕” and “omg whats your starbucks order?” is the problem.

YOU guys are the one promoting Starbucks at this point. Do you understand?

I’m not saying don’t hold someone accountable, no, but I’m saying the comments aren’t fucking helping.

Don’t get me wrong, I do live in Korea, and I have been actively avoiding purchasing from them because I saw a few posts on twitter referencing it. I based an activity on a twitter post. And wanna know when I figured out WHY I was supposed to boycott exactly?

After I deleted Twitter because of the stress I got from the app.

That’s when I finally found out about the BDS list, found out oh, Puma is on the list, McDonalds is an even bigger problem than Starbucks (directly supplying food to soldiers), HP APPARENTLY SUPPLIES TECH FOR THE ISRAEL GOVERNMENT, and oh wow! Starbucks isn’t even on the list because theres not enough proof that they financially fund Israel.

In conclusion, the people preaching about how Yunjin is a performative activist is such hypocrites themselves

It’s clear that while some of the comments and criticisms are genuine, trying to hold a person accountable, but its also clear that the repeat of the same mocking comments of Yunjin is just performative and for attention and likes.

That’s what pisses me off. People who don’t give a shit about Palestine, and people even if they do support Palestine not even doinng the bare minimum amount of research just having fun mocking (not criticizing) a person when a tiny bit of wrong doing is shown.

Please, go look in the mirror, and i dont like saying this but go touch grass, do your own research, dont base off your whole ideology on a reddit post or a twitter, tumblr post, read different variety of news articles from several companies, and THEN make your decision on a situation. Not only Starbucks, not only on Yunjin, but on several other ones too.

Media literacy. Look it up.

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Spawn Vs The Ascendant] (3)

Pairing: Astarion (s) x Tav

Plot: We get a look at Ascended Astarion and M! Tav's complicated past. Meanwhile in F!Tav's world, she has a close call with The Vampire Ascendant himself all the while Spawn Astarion and Karlach prepare to attack the Crimson palace.

Content/Warnings: MDNI, THERE IS SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER! M/m smut, oral and anal sex, I'll put some little red diving lines so you can skip it because it's not TOO important to the plot, but I just thought since y'all have been waiting forever for the next part I might as well treat you. Both a male and female Tav, alternate timeline shenanigans, Ascended Astarion is a toxic asshole as usual, emotional manipulation, verbal abuse, threats, etc, slight choking, there's also a lot of blood and gore in this part, lots of violence and action.

Part One

Part Two

Part Four

The Spawn Vs Tav Vs The Ascendant

[Savegame 2: Somewhere, A year post game]

Tav let out a sigh as he felt a cool breeze hit his face, the scent of the forest washing over his heightened senses. He could smell the blood of a deer who was leaping through the grass.  He turned his head to look at it, tongue flicking over his newfound fangs. It had only been a year since his undeath, but everything had already changed so much. 

The young vampire had finally convinced his master to allow him to travel outside of Baldur's Gate. Tav needed to get away from the city so he could enjoy the comforts of nature once again even though many of his fellow druids would sneer at what he'd become. An undead abomination.  He was able to convince The Vampire Ascendant to allow him to leave their city, insisting that this would be a romantic getaway for the two of them. 

They had left Baldur's Gate and used the fortune they acquired to purchase a lovely little holiday home on an island off the Sword Coast. 

Their villa sat on the border of the ocean shore and the luscious woodlands that stood behind it.

Tav sat crisscrossed in the sand, the warmth of the sun danced up on his skin. He was quite fortunate to still be able to enjoy it, given what he was. 

“Little Love, what are you doing out here alone?” His master's voice purred out. 

“Just enjoying the peace.” Tav replied calmly. He didn't feel like looking his master in the eyes. Things had been distant between them now. Tav did his best to try and keep Astarion from turning Baldur's Gate into a slaughterhouse, but occasionally he slipped up, like with the incident at Sharess's Caress.  

There were so many days he wished he could just go back and convince his love not to go through with the ritual. Then maybe the warmth they once shared wouldn't have gone out. But he'd been terrified at the time. They both had. Astarion was afraid of losing his freedom. And Tav was afraid so desperately afraid of losing him. If only he'd known he would have lost him anyway. 

Now Astarion was the worst version of himself, all of his darkness let loose for the entire world to see. And Tav was merely a plaything that he refused to give up. The vampling’s red eyes blinked as his master’s clawed finger tilted his chin up to look at him.

“Pet, you know I don't like when you avoid me. It makes me so very unhappy.” The Ascendant pouted, making a painfully fake sad face. It made Tav’s blood boil. Tav jerked his head away from his master's touch.

“I am at your side day and night. You sit me on your lap every day like a glorified pup for all your guests to see. Am I not even entitled to my own space just for a moment!?” Tav suddenly snapped, fangs bared as he narrowed his eyes. 

“You're the one who suggested this ‘romantic getaway’ and now you have the audacity to accuse me of not giving you space!? How dare you! You ungrateful little wretch!” Astarion snarled at him. “If you want your fucking space so badly I can arrange a nice dark cell for you back at the palace.” His master threatened.

“No….I-I…Please….I'm sorry!” Tav's face suddenly filled with fear.  “….I'm sorry…. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…” Tav grabbed hold of Astarion’s leg, his head hung as he begged. Astarion glared down at him, his expression unimpressed. 

“You will make this up to me.” Astarion tilted Tav’s chin back up.  

“Yes. I will….I promise…” Tav nodded. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Appeasing his master had become a regular routine of Tav's.  He pretty much had it down to a science. Beg, grovel, flatter, pleasure, usually one or a combination of them would do the trick to calm the beast. Funny how Astarion seemingly had no regrets about turning Tav into the very thing he despised being for so many years. 

The only saving grace was Astarion was far too possessive to share Tav’s body with anyone else. 

“I love you Tav. I can't fathom why you're determined to make things so difficult between us.” Astarion pushed Tav down on the bed with one hand. The spawn frowned. His master's words felt empty despite how much Astarion may have believed them himself; there was little proof to back them up. Tav removed his shirt, deciding it would be best to just give in and lose himself in pleasure if only for a little while. He slid down his trousers and drawers, completely exposing himself in front of the other male. 

Astarion lifted his own shirt up and over his head before discarding it to the side. He then climbed onto the bed and slowly straddled his spawn. He leaned down, getting very close. 

“Kiss me.” He ordered. Tav leaned up and pressed his lips against Astarion's, wrapped his arms around his neck as his master began to grind himself against Tav's unclothed groin.

Tav moaned against Astarion's lips, letting the vampire lord slip his tongue inside. Astarion tastes Tav’s mouth, the flavors of wine and blood intertwining as their tongues dance.  Astarion pulls back and pins Tav’s wrists above his head before slowly shifting down and licking the spawn’s nipples. 

“A-Astarion!” Tav let out a whine, feeling the elven male teasing his sensitive buds, grazing them with his fangs all the while grinding himself down against Tav's hardening member. Astarion began to nibble and suck his way down Tav's body leaving a trail of bright red hickies as he went. 

Astarion moved back, hand grasping Tav's cock as he licked his lips, looking down at his pet’s leaking tip. 

“So hard for me already?~” Astarion teased gently, squeezing Tav’s length as he pumped it back and forth in his hand.  

“Ngh!” Tav groaned and dug his claws into the bed.  Astarion leaned down to lick up the precum dribbling down from Tav's tip, before slowly proceeding to begin sucking the younger man’s cock into his mouth.  Tav's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt his master swallow his length with ease. Astarion’s hand moved to grab hold and massage Tav's balls as he bobbed his head.

Tav groaned and panted, resisting the urge to thrust into his master's mouth lest he gets punished for it like last time. Astarion pulled back with wet pop before rubbing Tav's cock a few more times and dropping his own trousers. 

Tav's red eyes trail over his lover’s body as the silver haired male began to suck his fingers into his mouth, coating them thoroughly in saliva before he reached behind himself and stuck two fingers up his ass. 

“Ahh…Ahh…” Astarion moaned, pumping his fingers in and out. Tav bit his lips, he could feel himself twitch at the sound of his master's moans. 

Gods it sounded so heavenly. The pale elf continued to prepare himself scissoring before then shoving his middle finger in knuckle deep. 

Once he was ready, he shifted over Tav's cock, grasping it and slowly guiding the tip to his hole. 

Astarion lets out a low moan, an open mouth smirk forming on his face as he sits down, taking the spawn's cock deep inside. 

“G-Gods….” Tav gasped, feeling his lover clench tightly around him. Astarion stared down at Tav, a pleased look appeared on his face as he noticed his pet squirming under him. Tav reached over to grab Astarion's hips, but the vampire lord stopped, gripping his hands.

“Tut, tut, tut, bad boy. You don't get to touch me.” Astarion clicked his tongue. “Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise.” He ordered, before releasing him and placing his hands on Tav's chest. Slowly he began to move up and down, sliding Tav’s cock in and out of his ass.

“A-Astarion….” Tav whimpered, his nails gripping the sheets as Astarion kept up the same pace, bouncing on top of him. He eventually began to move up slowly before quickly slamming his ass back down on Tav's hips, making a satisfying slap sound and causing Tav to squeak in surprise. 

“Mmmm…..You feel good inside me…” He lets out a breathy side before moving up and slamming back down.  He could feel Tav's cock leaking, coating his insides, it made movement much easier.  Astarion began to pick up his pace repeatedly slamming down on Tav with enough force that it almost felt like he was about to break his pelvis!

“Please…I..ahhh!”  Tav cried out, looking up at his master with pleading eyes as his cock began twitching inside of him. 

“What is it, pet? Do you want to move, hm?” Astarion pushed down hard against his lover, taking him in deep. He bit his lip, smirking down at Tav. “I…. might let you…” He said, playfully taking hold of Tav’s nipples and tugging on them. 

“A-Ahh!” The spawn cried out. 

“Say you're mine.” He said. Tav groaned as Astarion slowed his movement, hips sliding up and down at a much slower pace, the room was almost silent aside from the slick wet sound of Astarion riding Tav's weeping cock.

“Say you're mine.” The Ascendant repeated. There was no compulsion, no glow of red eyes, no force. Astarion wanted Tav to say it all on his own. 

“I…I…I'm yours…” Tav breathed out, making his master grin widely. 

“Again.” Astarion slammed himself down on Tav. 

“I'm yours!” Tav said more confidently.

“Good boy! ~ You may move…mmm…” As soon as Astarion gave him permission Tav began to buck his hips upwards, cock repeatedly plunging up into his master's asshole. Astarion rode Tav in time, masterfully matching his pace. He grabbed hold of the back of his spawn's head, gripping his hair as he pulled him in for a rough, sloppy kiss.  It took little time from there for Tav to reach his peak, especially with his master's ass threatening to break him.   

The two of them relaxed for a while shortly afterwards until eventually Astarion had Tav pinned face down in the pillows, balls deep in his ass. However, the second round was eventually cut short by a disturbance in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFW-END~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Masters! Masters!” A charmed servant called beating on the door to their bedroom. His face was full of fear, hands shaky. 

There was some muttering, and scuffling coming from the other end of the door, before eventually it opened revealing Astarion shirtless in only his pants. Tav laid on the bed behind him, only a sheet covering his dazed form as he panted, body covered in his master's love bites.

“What the hells do you want!?” Astarion snapped, very annoyed by the interruption. 

“M-My lord! Theres a-a…It's t-terrible.. I-I….” The poor terrified man.

“You have ten seconds to speak before I splatter your innards all over the floor.” The sliver haired vampire lord hissed out.

“M-Monster hunters! T-They're on the island! They're harassing the locals and burning down their homes in hopes to find you, master!” 

“Determined little shits, aren't they? I don't quite care what happens to the peasants on this little speck of land, but they do pay me rent so...”Astarion sighed in annoyance.

“We have to help them.” Tav said, putting his clothes on and fixing his hair. 

“Oh, not this again! You know your little hero act gets so tiresome, love.” Astarion rolled his eyes, “protect the cattle if you must, but my only concern will be slaughtering these vagabonds for even thinking about setting foot on my property.” 

Tav kept quiet but glared at him harshly. The way he talked about the people on this island honestly made Tav's stomach turn. 

“As you wish, master.” Tav said coldly, the title spoken with pure disgust.  Astarion glanced back at Tav with a surprised look. Tav had never addressed Astarion as ‘master’ before. Astarion, despite all his arrogance, pride, and determination to remind Tav who he belonged to on a regular basis, had never once compelled or ordered him to to refer to himself as such. Mostly because the way Tav had always said the vampire lord’s name had been music to his pointed ears. Astarion quickly brushed off these sickening feelings. He was not weak any longer. Such sentimentalities were beneath him.  

“Hmm…Perhaps I should put their heads on spikes, leave some of them impaled out in the fields to send a message to any of their brethren.” Astarion chuckled darkly. His ruby red eyes glanced back over at Tav who refused to look him in the eyes. It felt infuriating.

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The roads ran red with blood, houses shot up in a blaze and a mother ran across the scene, desperately dragging her children along with her. Tav and Astarion slowly approached the chaos. Complete and utter horror flashed over the vampire spawn’s face. His undead heart breaks to pieces at the site of villagers being slaughtered all for the sake of killing two vampires.  

“This chaos has to end Magnus!” An elven woman shouted at a human man. Both of them appeared to be amongst the monster hunters.

“There are children on this island for fucks sake!” 

“They had their chance! These people are servants to the undead! They will suffer the same fate as their masters!!!” 

“My love, please!” She begged, getting on her knees. “These people did not kill your brother! They're not in control of their minds! It's the vampire’s doing! You must forgive them!”

“Osha…I-I…” The man suddenly froze. He coughed, blood pouring out of his mouth before suddenly he fell flat on his face. Blood leaked from an open wound in his back as he laid in the dirt.

“MAGNUS!!!!” The elven woman shrieked in horror.

The silver haired vampire lord stood behind the man's corpse, a wicked grin as he held Magnus’s still beating heart in the palm of his hand. He slowly crushed it right in front of the elven woman, the blood dripping through his fingers before he licked them clean. 

“Mm…Not bad.” Astarion purred.

“You…. YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!” Osha screeched. Astarion looked back at her slightly amused. 

“Oh, was that what he was? Apologies, he was making a mess of my things.” The Vampire Ascendant merely chuckled. 

“I'll…. I'll KILL YOU!!” Osha screamed, grabbing hold of a wooden stake from her dead husband's body and rushing for Astarion head on. But before she could even make contact Tav moved in front of her and kicked her away with enough force to send her flying into one of the houses.  Tav huffed before looking around at the villagers who were utterly terrified. Astarion blinked and looked back at Tav, a slight warmth flashing through his eyes.

He still loves me….

Before Astarion could say a word Tav ran off, unsheathing scimitars from his back and cutting down any monster hunter who dared to try and stop him.  The elven monster hunter’s eyes follow him as she lays on the ground, seemingly broken and lifeless.

“Glacious!” He shouted, shooting an ice knife right at the nearby burning building before kicking his way through the door. 

“Everyone out now!” He ordered. A mother pushed her daughters through the door. 

“My son! He's still in his crib!” She cried and pointed over to a blocked door. 

Tav quickly pushed past her and smashed his way through the blocked off door with vampiric strength. He quickly charged in and scooped up the baby boy, thanking the gods he didn't need to breathe any longer. Tav quickly came back out and handed the woman her baby. 

“Thank you, my lord, thank you!” The woman said, tearing up.  Tav gave a small smile before suddenly he heard the sound of crying coming from somewhere nearby.  Tav rushed over to the scene. It was yet another smoking home. 

“Glacious!” He shot another ice knife at the fire in order to put it out. Tav quickly rushed over, a look of confusion covered his face as he noticed the front door had already been open. 

Inside was a little half elf girl with long curly blonde hair. The child knelt down by some debris, crying as a pair of motionless legs poked out from under it. Shaky sobs left her mouth as Tav moved closer.

“Come on darling, we need to get you out of here.” Tav said, kneeling down beside her. 

“I'm not leaving without my momma!” She snapped; eyes puffy as she broke down into another fit of sobs. Tav shushed the child before placing a comforting hand in her hair and pulling her into a hug. 

“It's not safe here, little one.” Tav said, “where is your papa?” 

“He got sick a long time ago….He went to sleep and n-never woke up….” She sniffed.  

“Come with me and I'll take you somewhere safe and we'll get you something to eat.” Tav eventually was able to convince the little girl to follow after him. He took her by the hand and guided her out of the house. 

“What's your name sweetie?” Tav asked as he led her back through the village. He made sure to steer her away from the sight of any corpses in hopes to keep from terrifying the poor little thing.

“I'm Abigail.” She said softly, “momma used to always call me Abby.” 

“Abigail is a beautiful name.” Tav smiled softly. He then suddenly heard footsteps and turned to see Astarion approaching. 

“There you are, I was wondering where you'd run off to.” Tav’s master licked over the edge of his mouth, a little bit of blood dribbling down his chin. “And what's this? Have you brought me a snack?” Tav glared at the other male before protectively standing in front of the small child. 

“No. Stay away from her Astarion.” Tav said sternly.

Astarion clicked his tongue, “lighten up. It was only a joke. Gods.” The pale elf sauntered over to his beloved spawn, glancing over his shoulder without a care. 

“Pretty little thing…Perhaps this is just what we need.” Astarion smirked, an idea began to form in his mind. Tav's eyes widened, he knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“Astarion no! I'm taking her to an orphanage.” 

“Love, don't be ridiculous. Think about how much better off she'd be with us as her fathers.” Astarion took hold of Tav's chin and made the shorter male look up at him. “Isn't that what you want? To have a family with me…?”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save game 1: Act 3, Crimson Palace.] 

Tav bit her lip, holding back a whimper as gripped the wooden comb tightly in her hand. She needed to move fast before the vampire lord drank enough to weaken her. She held the comb high, preparing to plunge it down into his heart from behind but before she could make contact she felt a tight grip around her wrist.  Her lover's look alike pulled back from her neck, his blood stained lips forming a frown.

“Trying to kill me already are we? Pity.” His grip around her wrist tightened, threatening to bruise. Tav whimpered, dropping the comb from hand and letting it clatter into the floor below.

“You honestly thought that dull piece of wood would actually stab me!? Ha! Desperation doesn't suit you my dear.” The vampire releases her wrist only to grasp her throat, not as tightly, but still firm enough to make her worry. “I don't want to hurt you darling, but I cannot have you misbehaving.”

“Let me go!” Tav shouted as Astarion stood, yanking her up by the collar around her neck.  The Vampire Ascendant seemed to be keeping himself rather composed despite Tav's attempt on his life.

“Oh, I will, you'll go right down into the dungeon to think about what you've done.” Astarion hissed, dragging her out of the study. “Honestly, how can you be so ungrateful! I am giving you everything you could ever want!”  

Tav screamed and fought as she was dragged down the hall like wild cat, eventually her survival instincts kicked in and she slung her head around and sank her teeth right down onto the vampire lord’s groin. 

“FUCK!” He shouted and crippled down in pain, releasing his grip and Tav and allowing her to turn tail and run like her life depended on it. She darted through a door and quickly down the hall, spotting that strange half-elf girl, Abigail staring at her as she passed. 

I need to get this godsdamned collar off of me!

Tav fled further into the palace hearing some footsteps as she came closer towards the ballroom. Swiftly she climbed into a wardrobe off to the side and closed the doors. Peaking out through the cracks as two figures approached. A glowing red eyed Shadowheart and Lae'zel entered the hallway.

“Source of my bruises, are you still in pain?” Lae'zel spoke up, placing her hand on the other female’s cheek. Shadowheart simply shook her head. It appeared the wounds their master inflicted on her had already healed. Tav calmed her breathing, hoping neither of them would detect her presence here. Thankfully however the two of them appeared more concerned with one another. Eventually the two of them walked off, leaving Tav to let out a long sigh of relief.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[Save Game 1: Act 3, Upper City.]

“Ooh looks like he's called some guard dogs to do his bidding.” Karlach said as she and Astarion stood onto one the of the nearby buildings adjacent to Cazador’s old palace. 

“What is up with evil arseholes and always refusing to get their hands dirty?” Karlach huffed as she peeked down below. 

“They’d claim It's beneath them, but truthfully it's all over calculated foolish paranoia.” Astarion looked over the side of the roof, eyes trailing over the large werewolves that stocked over the grounds. 

“Does he honestly believe no one is going notice all his pets running around?” 

“Well this is technically you we're talking about….What do you think?” Karlach asked.

“I would never have been this stupid! Perhaps overconfident, but this it just ridiculous!”

“Hmm…Maybe he just doesn't care if anyone sees them.” Karlach hummed, “oh wait did you remember to bring the bomb arrows?” 

“Naturally.” Astarion smirked, pulling out an arrow and notching it slowly. 

“Hells yes! Let's blow these fuckers up!” The tiefling cheered.  Astarion quickly shot an arrow which flew through the air hitting one of the wolves right between the eyes. It exploded upon impact, splattering brains, blood and pieces of skull over the cobblestones. 

“Gross. Do it again!” The tiefling barbarian’s tail swatted back and forth, eyes locked on the chaos below. The vampire spawn quickly notched another arrow and hit another wolf sending bloody severed limbs flying all over the streets. He then proceeded to shoot a couple more, clearing out the frontline security.

“That should give the others an opportunity to rush the front door. Now we just sneak in through the roof.” Astarion explained.

“Got it! Leave it to mama K!” The barbarian grinned before looking back at Astarion.

“Oh no, whatever you're thinking-”

“No time! We need to get in there and save Tav!” The fiery devil insisted before grabbing hold of the smaller elf, throwing his long slender body over her muscular shoulder. 

“Karlach! Gods-dammit! Put me down this instant!” The little vampire hissed. 

“We're coming, Tav!” She exclaimed, before backing up and rushing over the building leaping across the sky while Astarion clung to her wide eyed, fingernails digging into her like a scared cat. 

The vampire Ascendant never would have guessed his windows would have been shattered by a big red beefy barbarian lady and a cat-like rogue, but here we are.

Note From TheChaoticDruid: I am so sorry for the for the wait! Honestly, I didn't really feel like too many people were invested in this story and 'This Bites' had really become my main focus multi-part fanfic wise. I'm hoping to finish up this story in about two more parts. The Spawn and the Ascendant WILL start showing down next part. Also, I usually don't add a little divider for my smut, but I felt like I just randomly decided there was going to be smut in this part (kinda spur of the moment thing), so I added the Nsfw heads up in case someone reading was not ready for it in this story. Please leave a comment or a reblog down below it really helps motivate me to write! See you guys next time!

[skyfallslayer]

A Stitch In Time || Prologue

-Bucky Barnes x Daughter!Reader-

Series Masterlist

° Series Summary: A Time Heist mission goes wrong, and some of the Avengers end up in the 1950s. Desperately clinging to their lives, they wind up in a place subconsciously. And unfortunately for Steve, and especially to Bucky, they find themselves face to face with someone they wish not to see.

° Chapter Summary: Worried about how his mission may go, Bucky visits a ‘touchy’ place, and recalls the short life he had with you.

° Date: 7/20

° Rating: Teen

° Word Count: 4,569

° Warning: Talks about death/dying; Reference to Suicide; Guilt; Child Abandonment; Talks of Fertility Issues; Alcohol; Allusions to Depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

° A/N: The only excuse I have for taking so long to get this out is because I had an expected mental health break. One that was needed. But I'm back! And I'm slowly updating some of my other stories! So be on the look out for those! Also, let me know if I missed any warnings! Enjoy!

The freshly wetted grass squished underneath his boots with each and every step. His shoulders were slacked, but his wrists were tense as he held the delicate bouquet with both of his hands. He was always nervous to be here, even though he’s done it so many times after finding it, the nervousness never went away. The nausea never stopped too… or the guilt… the fear… the sadness. Nothing ever stopped like he so desperately wanted to. Was this a curse he was stuck with for helping to bring another child into this cruel world?

He reaches the end of his line, just a few short inches away from where his toes could touch the stone; The stone etched with words and numbers that made his heart ache. And when his knees felt weak he lowered himself to the ground, sitting back on his heels. With a bittersweet expression on his features, he removes the old lilies and replaces them with your favorite, pearly white ones. The ones you always smelled like when you came back from playing in the park. Who knew he would miss such a fragrance? 

He takes a deep inhale through his nose, and exhales quietly, gathering his thoughts. “Hey, baby girl. It’s been some… time since I’ve visited. I honestly thought I should wait until your half birthday, but…” He trails off, frowning. “But uh, I’m heading off on another mission tomorrow, a… potentially dangerous one.” He chuckles dryly. “You know the deal with those.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for your answer he knows he won’t get, letting the hot summer wind touch his face and through his chocolate locks. He waited for that as his cue to continue on.

“Uh… so…”

It hurts to even think about it.

“I was just…”

Should he even say it?

“Wondering again if it goes south I can…”

Should he repeat what he always says to your grave?

“Be next to you?”

Another pause, this time it felt more painful. It always hurts to be here. It always hurts to say those words because it wasn’t like he had a death wish, it wasn’t like he was afraid of death, he just… didn’t know if he deserved to be next to you. You were his whole world and he fucked it up. Fucked it up so bad that it makes him more anxious to want to hold you, and hug you, and kiss you, and just talk to you. He loves you. 

He’s loved you since the very beginning.

.

.

.

Bucky would have fallen back in shock if it wasn’t for the small bundle in his arms. His ex-girlfriend had just said some words that he didn’t need to hear right now. Couldn’t even comprehend it.

No, it wasn’t, ‘Can we get back together? I made a mistake’.

No, It wasn’t, ‘The baby isn’t yours’.

No it was–

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asked, disbelief etched in his words. There was also an underlying sense of anger and betrayal, because–

She couldn’t be serious...

Right?

He watched the woman standing in front of him roll her eyes, snatching her purse from his living room’s couch while responding, “I don’t want her. I only had her because you wanted to keep the baby after finding out I was pregnant.”

He nearly doubled over when he heard the disgust in her voice. “So you’re just going to leave?” Bucky asked, seeing his ex now putting on her winter coat. “But our daughter needs a mother figu–”

“YOUR daughter.” His ex snapped, poison on her tongue. “That baby–” She points furiously. “That baby is a spitting image of you. All the way from the shape of her face to the way she smiles. Everything. Which is fine by me, I don’t want someone looking like me out in the world.”

Bucky opened his mouth to speak as he followed her behind as she walked towards the front door. Unfortunately, she beats him to it. “As for a mother figure, you’ve got three sisters and a mom. That baby can pick up skills from them.”

She swings the door open, letting in the cold breeze of February. Snowflakes flew in, sticking to her clothes and curly hair. Bucky immediately stood sideways and drew you as far away as he could from the freezing air.

(Was she trying to freeze you?!)

“Dottie!” He called out from the doorway, stopping her on the porch.

She wasn’t even going to look back at him, wasn’t she? Or even look at you? Did she truly not feel anything?

He doesn’t know why but his voice cracked, and although he and his ex’s relationship was always rocky, and they both knew that whatever was between them wasn’t going to work out, he still doesn’t want her to leave him alone with a one week old.

“Come on…” He continued, quietly. “At least stay for a couple months until I can do this on my own.” His lower lip quivered slightly. “Please?”

He felt you shift a bit in his arms, probably from the weather, and waited for her to turn around…

But she never did.

“Goodbye, James.” Dottie said, before trailing across the snow covered path to the sidewalk. 

Bucky watches her disappear into the night, his feet glued to the floor even when part of his mind told him to run after her. It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t want to go after her, thinking that maybe she’ll change her mind if actually begs, but the mere thought went out the door when you started to get fussy and cry.

Something deep within him kicked in, probably that parental instincts he’s heard about from his own parents, and all his attention was turned to you cradled in a lilac colored blanket.

“Hey…” He whispered, readjust his hold so that he could gently brush their–

No.

That’s officially gone out the window. 

It’s just his daughter. His.

He readjust his hold so that he could gently brush HIS daughter’s cheek. To brush your cheek like a soft paint brush across a canvas. “Hey. Don’t cry.” He says, soothingly.

He makes a soft shushing sound as he closes the front door with his hip, before carefully guiding himself to sit near the fireplace. He lays you cautiously in his lap, almost in awe as he sees your eyes peeking open for the first time.

(Y/E/C) eyes. 

So beautiful like the world itself. He almost wanted to start taking pictures.

Maybe later though.

He chuckles sadly, tears in his own as he brushes your cheeks again. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry, I got you.” He said, smiling down. “I got you, baby girl.”

You cooed quietly, staring back at him with a bit of curiosity. The look you were giving him melted his heart, but it also made him feel like he didn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry…”  He croaks, sniffling. “It looks like it’s just going to be me and you, doll. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

You made the cute sounds that took his breath away again, taking up his whole surroundings. However, if it wasn’t for his military training, he probably wouldn’t have even heard someone tumbling down the stairs. Bucky glances at the living room entrance, finding a certain skinny blond that he called his best friend. He saw his chest move slightly, and could almost hear him panting from here.

“S-Sorry.” Steve exhales, leaning against the door frame. “Your mom sent me down here when we heard everything go quiet.”

Bucky smiled a little. “She got worried?”

Steve copies him with a chuckle.  “Yeah. She wanted to make sure you hadn’t run off with her grandchild.”

The brunette shakes his head. “That sounds like my mother.” He turns his attention back on you, but from the corner of his eye he could see his friend shifting uncomfortably, almost hesitantly, in his spot. His smile grows. “Come here.”

“What?” The blond said, genuinely confused. 

“Come here, Steve. You can see her.”

He stiffens up a bit, looking unsure. “H-Her… A-Are you… are you sure?” Steve asked, pointing towards the stairs in the hallway. “I-I shouldn’t be the one seeing your baby first. Shouldn’t I–”

“Get your ass over here, Rogers.” Bucky said, almost wishing he could free his hand up and drag him by the ear (he was always so timid and too cautious sometimes).

Not even daring to question his best friend’s wish, Steve wandered over and took a seat on the couch next to Bucky. He leans in close, examining the small bundle in the soldier’s arms.

Steve’s big blue eyes lit up with joy. “Wow, Buck. She’s adorable.” He said, as you scrunch up your nose to show off your cute, chubby cheeks.

“She is.” Bucky said, fighting back the stinging sensation in his eyes again. He now wonders…

(Is this what it's going to feel like all the time now?)

After a moment of silence, Bucky threw his friend through another loop. “Wanna hold her?”

Steve held his hands up in defense almost immediately after those words left his tongue. “Oh, no. I shouldn’t.”

“I trust you.” Bucky holds you out a little, a reassuring look on his face.

Steve raises a cautious eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Bucky laughs. “I’ll show you.”

Bucky then takes his time showing Steve how to hold you, giving him pointers and readjusting everyone once and awhile until he has you in a good position. The blond’s nerves seemed to vanish into thin air when he started to see that you were looking at him with the same curious eyes you made at your father. Those eyes of yours could melt anyone’s hard shells at this point.

Steve chuckles, and grins as he gets butterflies in his stomach from you. “What’s her name?” He asks, sparing a glance at your dad for a split second. “Did Dottie ever give her one?”

Bucky shakes his head sadly. “No.” He said, his voice feeling rather small at the moment. “No she didn’t. I’m tasked with giving her one.”

“Have you thought of any? I know you were looking through some books a few weeks back.”

“I have and I think…” He takes another good look at you, making sure the name was the right choice. “I was thinking… (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” The blond repeats back, testing it out like an echo chamber for his friend who nodded back.

“Yeah. (Y/N).” Bucky tests it out his lips as other names start to form. “(Y/N)... Stevie Barnes.”

He looks up in surprise. “Stevie?” Steve asks in disbelief again. 

Bucky smiles. “Well, I heard Stevie is the girl version of Steve, so…”

“But…” His blue eyes look away again, looking completely torn.

Your father raises an eyebrow over this. “But what?”

“You’re flattering me way too much, Bucky.”

“Am I?” Bucky asked, tilting his head, slightly puzzled.

“Y-Yes!” Steve said, shaking his head. “Y-You can’t– You shouldn’t name your kid after me.”

Now it was his turn to be even more confused. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m– y-you have sisters! Parents. Y-You should name her after them. Not me.”

“But, Steve, you’re my brother. Besides…” Bucky shifted in his seat, knowing what he’ll say next is touchy. “I know… the doctor said you might not be able to have kids so… think of this as me… giving you a small piece of that.”

Silence befell, the subject was something that really hurt Steve when he heard it the first time; Hell, it even hurt his mother who was present at the time. It kind of haunted him for a while because what could he offer to a person who wanted to share his life? 

Steve stares at him for a while before tearing up, laughing quietly and looking away. “Jesus, Bucky. You’re making me cry.”

A chuckle. “Well don’t, ‘cause I’ll start crying again.” Bucky says, making them belly laugh. 

The blond sniffles and tests the name out on his own. “(Y/N) Stevie Barnes.” He looks back down at you, his smile returning fully. “Not bad, Buck.”

Your father looked at him teasingly. “And what’s that supposed to mean, Steven?”

“Nothing.” Steve replies, holding back another laugh as he watches you start to drift back to sleep. “I’m really happy for you, man.”

“Thanks.” 

A few moments more passed before you were carefully placed back in your father’s arms, where all he did was stare back at you as you pulled yourself to sleep. His happy face started to falter, and there was a heavy amount of doubt in his ocean blue orbs. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Steve.” He finally admits before swallowing the lump in his throat. He soon felt his friend’s hand on his leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“You don’t have to do this alone, Bucky. You’ve got your family and you’ve got me.” Steve said, honestly. “And you know this. However, don’t doubt yourself, you got this. You’re going to be a great dad.”

Bucky’s lip curled up a bit, not caring that he was about to cry again. “Steve Rogers. The man who always knows what to say.”

“What can I say? I try.” He asked, coping with his expression.

“And you think I’ll be great? Even with me being a soldier and everything else that comes with it?” Your father asked, doubt was still just lingering on the surface no matter what he did.

Steve gives another gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be great. I know you’ll do anything to make sure she’ll be okay. So don’t worry too much, okay? (Y/N)’s going to be lucky she has you.”

Bucky hums, truly grateful for a friend like him. 

And without an ounce of hesitation, he bends down slowly and kisses your sleeping forehead. 

“I already loved you so much, (Y/N). I hope you realize that.” He whispers, lovingly. “And I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe.”

He swears at that moment he saw you smile.

.

.

.

Bucky brushed his flesh fingers against the words in the stone, tracing your name and important dates. February 23rd, 1936. A snowy, snowy day. Cool and crisp. Although he had to wait and wait until you were a week old to hold you, a week old to realize he was on his own, a week to realize that he truly loved you. No upcoming birthday surprises could top this one. But if he loved you so much then…

Why were you cursed to be underground?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

When Bucky got back home to his apartment, he found himself subconsciously grabbing the bottle of scotch in his cabinet. Although he knew he couldn’t technically get drunk, the feeling he got after a couple glasses was close enough. Sometimes… he liked the quietness in his home, the time to relax, untouched and left alone to be himself; But most of the time, after so many years of being alone in his head, he loathes being alone. Friends and family were everything to him growing up. You were everything to him growing up. 

He still wonders what it would be like if you were here, running around, asking him twenty questions, painting his toes, etcetera. He always wondered what you were like when you got older, the side of you he never got to see. He always wondered what those short years did for you.

Why did he have to get taken from you so soon?

.

.

.

You dove around your grandparents and aunts’ legs as you made your way out of the house, ignoring how your father’s duffle bag, that subconsciously you hated, was laying on the porch steps. You stumble around a bit on your five year old legs, before finding the person you wanted to see. 

“Uncle Steve!!!” You yelled, throwing your arms up.

“Hey, Pumpkin.” He said, teasingly. He wastes no time to scoop you up, and carefully holds you close to him (it’s been years and he’s still afraid he’ll drop you). “Have you gotten smaller?”

You scrunched up your nose at him, shaking your head. “No.” You giggled at the silly nickname, and it all was because you were pocket size.

“No?” Steve said, tilting his head, all cocky. “Are you sure?”

You giggled again. “Yes.”

He grins. “Just checking.”

A sigh came from inside, before the two of you saw your father exiting his parents house, all dressed in his neatly ironed uniform. He looked miserable as he gazed at his bag on the porch.

“Ready?” Steve asked, readjusting his hold on you as he frowned himself.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky mumbled, not ready for what’s yet to come. However, when he faces you his whole expression changes for the better. “And there’s my little girl!”

“Papa!” You yelled, holding your arms out. He takes you in his arms, hugging you gently. “Are you leaving, Papa?”

“Oh, baby doll, I am.” He said, pulling back to look at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He taps your nose. “Okay?”

You nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay!”

“Good.” He gives you a big kiss on your head, before peppering your face with some more making you laugh. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you, too, Papa.”

“I love you more.”

He gives you one more kiss and one more hug before transferring you over back to Steve. They both give each other a strong hug and pat on the back, smiling bittersweetly.

“Be safe, Bucky.” Steve said, trying to hide his concern.

“I will. You too. The both of you.” Bucky said, grabbing his bag and making sure his voice was stern.

“We will. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thank you, Steve.” 

He bid them goodbye, and you and Steve watched him walk down the path to the military jeep parked nearby. It was chilling almost to watch, and your five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend the heavy feeling you felt underneath the surface.

“Uncle Steve?” You asked, prying his eyes away from the moving vehicle. 

“Yeah?” He said, softly.

You looked at him all puzzled, something wasn’t adding up. “I thought you told me you were going with him?” You swear he mentioned something like that to you yesterday. Right?

His eyes look away from you, almost like he was recollecting himself before giving you his answer. “I am. But not yet.” He replies, honestly. His orbs finally meet yours again. “Not until I know you're okay.”

“Really?” You asked, tilting your head to the side with curiosity.

“Sure am.” He smiles once more. “Now, what do you want to do? You want to see what Grandpa and Grandma are doing?”

Your eyes light up at their names. “Yes!!!” 

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “Okay, okay. Let’s go see them.”

.

.

.

Bucky throws a bottle of scotch across the room, shattering somewhere. He didn’t care though. It’s not like he even batted an eye.

Five years old. 

That was it.

That’s the last time he ever saw you.

And that hurt like a bitch.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

He doesn’t know when…

But everything suddenly just…

Clicked.

Memories of his flooded in like a broken dam. He starts to recall who he was before and after the fall. Before and after the war. Before and after everything. So as he made his way to Siberia with his friend, Steve, he remembers something that was like a knife to his heart.

“I have a daughter.” Bucky said abruptly, cutting Steve off.

When he was on the run after the helicarriers fell, he remembers his time growing up in the early 1900s. The (multiple) times he saved his best friend’s ass from being picked on, or the way he took his younger siblings to the park, or helping his mother bake, or fixing the car with his dad. But there were a few memories he was confused by for a long time.

First he only heard little laughs, or someone trying to sing a child’s song. Then he saw little toys and dresses. Then he saw a little face with big, wondrous eyes. It didn’t take him long to realize who she was.

He met with his friend’s eyes quickly, almost getting choked up by an emotion that had been under lock and key for so long. “...I have a daughter… don’t I?”

Steve, who seemed taken back by his sudden string of words, opens and closes his mouth a few times, before settling his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, Bucky. You do.”

Bucky looked away, the confirmation sending his mind spiraling again, and the Captain could tell. He decides to approach this carefully since he knows his friend isn’t hundred percent in his right mind yet.

“Do you remember her?” Steve asked, watching him nod slowly. “What do you remember?”

Bucky thinks long and hard about this. What did he remember about you?

“Uh… I remember she was tiny… always tiny.” He chuckles quietly, making Steve smile. “She uh… had um… (Y/H/C) hair that was kind of wavy when she got older. Um… big, bright (Y/E/C) eyes. She… she um… smiled a lot… I think?”

“Yeah, she did Buck. All the time.” Steve said, patting his shoulder gently as he could see the joy it was bringing to his friend.

Bucky laughs again. “Uh… you used to call her by a weird nickname. What was it? Uh…” He purses his lips. “Po… Potato?”

Now it was the blond’s turn to laugh. “N-No. No. Close… Starts with a P, though.”

“Um…” His eyes light a spark. “Oh. Yeah. I remember now. We took her to her first Halloween pumpkin patch when I could hold in one hand because she was so tiny.”

“Yep. That’s what I called her.” He says with a nod. “Your Ma tried to dress her up like one.”

“Oh, yeah, she did.”

And then it got quiet, and Steve saw the bright light in his friend’s eyes go out when the wheels started to turn again. He held his breath, knowing what he was recalling next.

Bucky swayed on the balls of his feet a bit, looking at the floor. “She was five the last time I saw her.” He says, bittersweetly. “I remember, the night before, I took her to Coney Island, and we just played games and ate until our bellies ached. I got her a stuffed bear on the ring toss…”

Steve squeezed his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort because he knew there was no stopping any memories of you.

“She was with you when I left. I gave her hugs, and kisses and…” His voice starts to break. “I love you’s…. Um…”

“Bucky–” Steve begins, hating how hurt he looked.

“Steve. W-Was that last time you saw h-her too?”

Steve closed his mouth, thinking to himself. He couldn’t lie. He was a terrible liar which the brunette always sees through. So what was the point of even trying?

Cap shakes his head. “No. I saw her when she was nine. ‘Bout to be nine.”

“N-Nine?” Bucky asked, just above a whisper. “W-Why?”

“Um…” He swallows. “I had to…. I had to tell your family about, you know… the train… and you.”

The Soldier went distant. “O-Oh…”

“I wanted to make sure I was the one to tell them.” 

“Oh…” Bucky started to get teary eyed. “D-Did you tell her?"

Steve held his breath again. It was like his mind started to relive that day.

You looked so happy to see him, but he watched that expression vanish when you saw his sadden face. It hurts to take you by the hand and into your room. It hurts to see how you’ve grown, and to think he got to see it and not your dad made the situation a whole lot worse.

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was hurt. 

He wanted to lie and tell you your dad was still at war and won’t be home for a while.

He wanted to lie and say everything was going to be okay.

But he couldn’t, and felt like it was his duty to tell you what happened to your father, to his best friend.

He knew if the situation was reversed, Bucky would be doing the very same thing now.

And when he did tell you, he hated how you kept on denying it. You called him a liar, and god he wished he was.

“I-I did…” He said, feeling his eyes sting as well. 

Bucky jaw clenches. “A-And?”

Steve looks away for a second. “She cried for three hours.”

“O-Oh…” Bucky looks away too. “I always h-hated when s-she cries.”

With his hand still on the brunette shoulder, he gave him another comforting squeeze. “She…” Cap chokes, his memories flooding in all at once. “S-She um… she gave me her blanket, the one that she came home with. She um, wanted me… to promise to come back to her. But um… I failed at that, I guess.”

Bucky frowns. “Steve–"

“I tried finding her, Buck.” He finally looks at him. “When I came out of the ice, SHIELD managed to give me some of my things from the war. I kept the blanket in my chest, so… I tried finding her, because I didn’t want to break that promise to (Y/N), but…”

“You didn’t find anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not exactly.” He whispers, exhaling shaky. 

“Not exactly?” Bucky asked, wanting an answer. “What does that mean?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to look all messed up. Especially since he couldn’t make eye contact again. He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “I’m so sorry, Bucky…”

“Sorry about what?” Bucky couldn’t understand what was happening and it was honestly starting to scare him. “What are you sorry about?”

“(Y/N)...” He sighs quietly, and forces himself to look in his best friend’s eyes. “Pneumonia. She, uh… got pneumonia in ‘54 and passed.” 

Now the knife has dug deeper, chilling his bones too. “She’s dead?” He said, barely audible. 

“Yeah. She’s dead.” The Captain replies, dispirit. “I found the spot where she’s buried. I can take you there if you–”

“Thank you, Steve.” The soldier says, ignoring the blond’s confused state. “I mean it. You were always so good to her, and to think you never stopped looking after all this time means A LOT to me. Do you understand? You helped my daughter when she was at her lowest, and you even found her for me. I thank you for that.”

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “No need to. I said I’ll always be there for the both of you.”

Bucky returns the gesture. “As will I.”

“Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”

.

.

.

“-Bucky.” Steve says, touching his shoulder and getting a small jolt from the man. Surprised eyes fell on him as he returned with concerned ones. “You ready?”

“Uh…” Bucky looked around quickly, remembering it was standing in the locker room changing. He didn’t even realize he had zoned out. “Y-Yeah.” He said, zipping up the front of his Quantum Suit. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Steve tilts his head, the worriedness never vanishing. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Let’s get this mission completed.”

And those were the words that would change -everything-.

(TBC)

-Taglist Is Open-

@navs-bhat @liarasstuff @justmewoo @thed1v1n3

@luckyzipperscissorsbat @like-a-domino @kissesofdeadforme

@audigay

[bitchy-craft]

What They’re Into | Pick A Pile [18+]

WARNING: This Pick A Pile is 18+

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your fs is into. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

Tarot:

This feels like a masculine energy with a kind side to him, this will most likely show off in a day-to-day life and in aftercare.

He would definitely like to see you ride something as he watches you, letting you follow his command as you are unknowingly bringing yourself to a begging mess wishing to cum with his touch. He would probably also like food play of some kind. Using you as a table as he licks off and eats off all the stuff that was displayed on you, teasing you at the same time. If a fruit falls off of your body before he is done, you’d get a punishment.

They like to top/switch during the act and use lots of textures. This can be with candle wax, or feathers etc. I have a feeling that when they do this they will do it slowly, trying to see every, little reaction out of you and enjoying it with all their might.

They have a slight wish to exhibitionism, this can be both at semi-public spaces or full on public spaces. They would love to have intercourse outside, this can be on a hill, mountain or just a plain field of grass to feel the wind and nature around them. I feel like watching porn together would be something they are into, or filming the intercourse you have to watch it back later with you, doing it all over again.

Specific Scene:

You are with your Person Of Choice on a vacation with a friend group of yours. At some point at night you and your person leave the living room and go to your bedroom where you guys will hang a sock on the knob making people know you can’t come in because you guys are doing the dirty.

Shufflemancy:

Sex Playlist by Omarion:

They would like to possibly let a third party join in, only if you guys both agree of course. The moments when you both go down on each other are the perfect moments when you both need it and are able to get it. You guys work greatly together yet your Person Of Choice can see it as some sort of competition of pleasing you. This can be a competition with himself and his thoughts, but it is also possible that they may want to be better than someone else, a different sex companion or a possible ex.

They love your thighs, your inner thighs, your outer thighs, they love to dig their fingernails in them, tease you there with his tongue or hands, force you to cum etc. They would love to possibly experiment with you on things you might find interesting or things they might find interesting.

I feel like one of their favourite positions are seeing you ride on him or missionary.

He loves it when he sees your need to please him and do whatever he asks you too, having that control in these situations helps him a lot.

‘’When I lay my head on your lap, I never get tired.’’

‘’Don’t get me started by the way that you roll, keep me higher.’’

Channeling:

‘’I like to fuck’’

– Young-ish, Golden Retriever Energy, Green Hair.

‘’Me too!’’

– Orange Hair, Possible Face Jewellery.

‘’You know, I like bondage too but this is fine.’’

– Laid Back, Chill, Really Dark Blue Hair.

‘’I want to hold you hair, push you back and make you beg for mercy at my feet while others can hear you scream.’’

– Tall, Dark Energy, Smirk, Dark Hair.

‘’I want to hear you moan so badly, you know who I am, don’t ignore me.’’

– Tall, wears a suit of some kind.

‘’There are way too many people here, did we really need to do this all together?’’

– Annoyed, Can Get Pretty Heated Verily Quickly, Blond Hair.

Pile 2:

Tarot:

They definitely like ass, they love curves and love to see them moving as you walk around. They love to see you strip in front of them, tease them and make their internal hunger come out, having to hold them in until you are ready for them. They seem hesitant to speak about their wishes/needs. This can be because they are insecure about them or because they know you won’t be ready for them yet, even scared you might leave them if you heard them.

They like to hold your wrists so that you can’t move them, giving them control while being able to look at you from above. They like the thought of fucking you as someone watches, or them fucking someone else as you watch. They are into Master/Slave Roleplay, who is who depends on the person but most if not all would rather be the dominant one of the two. They like to make you jealous, silently complain for your sexual attention. They love it when you please yourself while crying out your name and would love for you to do it more often, just know they can/will be watching you and are thoroughly enjoyed by it. They want you to feel like a queen but in the bed they are the highest rank, you obey their every need(Although they want you to tell them your boundaries).

Specific Scene:

You are hidden inside a closet, being able to quietly and unnoticeably look into the room in front of you where you see your Person Of Choice fucking someone else while looking at you, not breaking eye contact for the whole act, giving you soft signs to mock you or make you realize they are only thinking of you as they fuck them.

Specific Scene:

You pleasing yourself in your room, legs spread open at the side of the door. You are laid down on your back while moaning their name in a pillow. You don’t notice your Person Of Choice having opened the door, standing in the doorway, leaning against the side of it, watching you with a smirk plastered on his face.

Shufflemancy:

Push It by TWENTY88:

They love to fuck all over the property, any place they can get when they are horny? They want to fuck there.

They love to fuck you to a point where you might not even be fully aware of your surroundings anymore, only feeling pleasure and screaming words with no meaning.

They love your curves, your body, everything. This is something that keeps coming back, stripping is something they adore. They might strip for you too, but I feel like they prefer for you to do it at their command. Seeing your clothes slowly fall off your body, teasing with this act is something that really hot them up. They want to touch you everywhere, making it known that you're only their possesion and no one else's.

They would like to hold your hair, making your sight something they can control, hold you wrists to control your movement etc. They are all about control and wish to have more every time, this might make them curious about bondage as well, but not with ropes or whatever, with silk to make you look elegant while being in a position where you have no possibility of moving.

‘’On the sink, on the couch, on the bed, on the floor, on the porch, on the stove.’’

‘’Go ahead and take the rest off.’’

Channeling:

‘’Fuck me until you beg me for more.’’

– Short Hair, Possibly Dyed Blond.

(This man said this while Channeling everything about five times in the middle of every sentence. ;-;)

‘’You really can’t do anything without me? Slut.’’

– Tall, Broad Shoulders, Dark Hair.

‘’I’d love to slice up your skin, but the rest didn’t so it wasn’t put in the text.’’ *winks*

- Pretty Tall, Blondish Hair, Smirk, Threatening Eyes.

‘’I don’t really have anything to say, most was already said it the text, sadly.’’

– Unbothered Look, Somewhere At The Back While Hidden By Shadow.

‘’We both hate your clothes, let’s get rid of them.’’

– Light Eyes, Average Height/Smaller Side.

‘’I’m going to stab a fork in your throat.’’

– Orange Hair, Possible Face Tattoos.

(r u okay- ;-;)

‘’You know you really shouldn’t say that to your person.’’

– Glasses, Dark Hair.

Pile 3:

Tarot:

This pile has mostly feminine energies with a hint of muscular ones in between. This doesn’t specify a gender, just what they feel like. They are into praise, this can be you praising them but also them praising you, if not both at the same time. There aren’t necessarily any hardcore kinks present although they do like the feeling of being on edge or having to be sneaky, this gives them a kick. They also have something for playing hard-to-get if not sometimes hurting your feelings in the process, trying to make you want more of them constantly.

Their sex drive itself is known but not very high nor low, it’s just there a few days a week. Their sex itself is mostly passionate, showing off all the love they have for you, teasing sometimes in between.

Missionary is one of their favourite positions. I feel like the height differences of you both are significant, one is way taller than the other, this is something they most likely love as well, although if they are the smallest of the both of you, don’t appreciate it when they get teased about it, they will show you height isn’t just everything.

A thing they might like as well, something they probably do not like to admit, is touching you in your sleep, if not having sex with you while you are asleep, only with consent beforehand of course.

Specific Scene:

You guys are fucking in a closet, a small room in a hallway or an office with the door unlocked, hoping no one walks in yet your partner keeps reminding you that you guys can get caught every second. Someone walking by while they fuck you even harder, hand on your mouth to muffle your sounds.

Shufflemancy:

Bad (feat. Rihanna) – Remix by Wale:

They like to act like they don’t know/like you before your relationship, playing a little game to get what they want at last. This can hurt you, but they will for sure make it up to you once you get in a relationship. They may have some trouble with past hurt, and this is why they aren’t that great with degrading, but they for sure love getting all the praise they can get.

They praise you, tell you how good you’ve been doing, how much they love you etc. And wish to get this back, although a little teasing from time to time is totally fine as well. I feel like they can also be into science or are interested in this, but only take it if it resonates.

They want to make you feel good, and will do everything they can to do this, this is why oral sex is something they might enjoy and love to get compliments on it, getting silent tips on the way because of an underlaying insecurity of past hurt.

They sometimes find things difficult to do, committing can be one of these, but they are trying their best and you know they are, even if they might be a bit clumsy. They are most likely a switch and sometimes like to try out soft degrading/teasing.

‘’She hurt feelings, she ain’t wrong.’’

‘’She work hard, she play harder, got a smart mouth.’’

Channeling:

‘’I can’t wait to show you something new that I made!’’

– Feminine energy, spontaneous, glasses, brown hair.

‘’I can’t wait to see you. I know this is supposed to be sex related, but I love you.’’

– Wavy, short, blond hair.

‘’I like the colour of your lips.’’

– Tall, sharp jawline, dark hair, kind and muscular energy.

‘’I wish to meet you, my dear.’’

– Butler(?), white gloves, dark hair.

‘’Hello! I love you! Don’t forget that!’’

– bit to the smaller side, spontaneous, nervous, a bit wild, light hair.

Pile 4:

Tarot:

They are a chest person. They love chests from all sizes and will do everything to see them, play with them and adore them. They don’t necessarily give lots of kinky vibes in a way, it’s mostly romantic, platonic sometimes comes forward but only take it if it resonates. Mostly their intercourse is about letting their partner know how much they love them and show it this way. They are very much someone which love language is gift giving. Since they have such appreciation for breasts they love the idea of lactating breasts as well, this is something that can turn them on greatly[keep in mind that these things aren’t always consciously known by this person and can also be someone else. Although this does resonate with most in this pile, take what resonates].

They have something for liquid in general, and would like to use this in their intercourse. This can be by showering or taking a bath while having sex or throwing liquid onto the other in a sensual way, they also have a thing for wax play. In general they love seeing certain textures on your skin and seeing your reaction to it, even though they might not like to admit it, they have something for you worshipping their feet or the other way around. They love it if you give them a strip tease or surprise them with sitting in your lingerie as they walk in etc.

The positions they would like would be you riding on them as you sit in their lap, being close to each other and just touching your skin, they really like texture. From time to time they would like the 69 position as well.

Specific Scene:

You are laying in your underwear/lingerie/half naked on a couch with your back to the door. Your Person of Choice walks in and comes up to you from behind, wanting to kiss you a welcome. They see how you are sitting, take your chin, let you look up to them and kiss you passionately as they grope your breasts.

Shufflemancy:

Or Nah (Feat. The Weeknd, Wiz Khalifa and DJ Mustard) by Ty Dolla $ign:

They love textures, they love things dripping on your skin; wax, wine etc. They love romantic intercourse but from time to time may go a bit rougher if that is wanted by both parties. The most important thing for them to do in intercourse is making you cum, making you enjoy etc. Which can let them to not enjoying this experience themselves. Make sure that once you feel like this happens you make sure your partner feels totally comfortable with everything as well and enjoys too.

They want to do everything for you and will use their money to do so in any way, some of them have slightly rich/older vibes. They like you riding them, it doesn’t matter in which way but since they love romantical intercourse they would like to be as close to you as possible. They want to make you cum many times, while repeating every time how pretty you are, how beautiful you are, how good you are doing and how proud they are of you. A lot of praise comes forward, praise them back sometimes, a little insecurity is present with some in this pile.

‘’All these tattoos in my skin, they turn you on.’’

‘’I got lotta cash.’’

Channeling:

‘’I want you to know that I am there for you, sex isn’t everything I care about.’’

– Red hair, smile.

‘’You are really cute, even cuter when you lay under me.’’

– Blond hair, to the smaller side.

‘’I don’t know what to say, sorry.’’

– Darker hair, male, bit shy.

‘’I don’t wanna join in in this bullshit.’’

– Annoyed, blonde hair.

‘’I love you my dear, and I can’t wait to see you.’’

– Kind, tall, suit.

Pile 5:

Tarot:

This pile doesn’t necessarily have a masculine or feminine feeling to it, this most likely means there are multiple people here from all different shapes, sizes and colours here.

This pile shows of mostly that the feminine counterpart of the two is the one who wants to be the leader in given intercourse. They are full of love and will expose it to the outside, this can mean that throughout the day they will make sure people around you will know that they love you and you both belong to one another, so a hint of exhibitionism looking right around the corner isn’t that surprising. They honestly adore your body and love to see it from far away, this can hint to possibly there being a third counterpart in your relationship or something of the kind. This doesn’t necessarily mean this is with you since it’s a general reading, just take what resonates, of course. If this does resonate to you in anyway make sure that it is done with consent of all counterparts and make sure to keep your Person Of Choice open to you with their thoughts, because they like it although sometimes there can be an underlying form of jealousy.

They would like to use sex toys on you, this can go from feathers to anal beads of some kind, forcefully swallowing spit or cum is something they’d like as well, this can be them doing this to you or you doing this to them. I feel like in this relationship they’d like you both to experiment a bit and find out what you guys both like.

Specific Scene:

You guys are sitting in what seems like a bench of some kind, one laying between the others legs, caressing the others hair. Light kisses are given to the others neck as loving words are being spoken.

Shufflemancy:

PILLOWTALK by ZAYN:

They want to know they love you and know that you love them. I somewhere sense some kind of insecurity on this part, this can be something from one of the two or both. Exhibitionism comes forward again, this can go hand-in-hand with the possible insecurity that hangs in the air. They want everyone to know who you guys both belong to, you belong to one another and no one else.

They want to make sure everything they do is done right, and make sure everything you do is done correct as well. This isn’t meant in the way of doing things to one another right, but making sure it is done right to both consenting parts. They are open to trying new things out, thoughts they might have. I feel like their mentality is somewhat in a way of; ‘I am open to try anything, if it doesn’t turn out the way we wanted to that’s totally fine and we will find something else.’ I feel like praise is something that will be done often because of the insecurities of course. They can become jealous, you can maybe become jealous in certain situations, just make sure you both are comfortable with everything you are both doing. Overall this deck gives a caring and soft vibe and this person hopefully gives you the same feelings.

‘’I love to wake up next to you, so we’ll piss off the neighbours.’’

‘’Body but you, body but me, body but us.’’

‘’In the place that feels the tears, the place to lose your fears.’’

Channeling:

‘’I love you my dear, please don’t forget about me. I know you’ll get there, I have faith in you.’’

– Mr. Darcy vibes/Finnick Odair vibes, light and curly hair.

‘’Hell Yeah it’s my turn! Hello! How are you doing? I miss you a lot!’’

– Excited, Puppy Energy, Short.

‘’You know I wish to see you, don’t hold back from coming to me.’’

– Tall, Long, Siren Eyes.

‘’I can’t wait until I see you on your knees in front of me.’’

– Feminine, Long, light-ish hair.

‘’See? You are getting closer and closer to me. Don’t give up, I am not helping you because I know you can do it on your own.’’

– Dark hair, shorter size, uniform of some kind.

Pile 6:

Tarot:

They like BDSM on certain specifics. They are into knife play and would love it to cut your skin carefully letting everyone know who you belong to, something about blood is something they find really intriguing and beautiful to witness, knowing it is done safely. They have something for your neck and your shoulders, that place on your body is something they see as elegant, showing off these elements of your body gives them the feeling of you completely trusting them, since these places on the body can be seen as most vulnerable. If you let them close to the places that are vulnerable, you give them your trust, in some cases your submission to them, they have something animalistic in them that they would like to show, like to try out and use.

Now even though they would most likely take the upper hand in your intercourse, pleasing you by giving oral is something they still love to do from time to time, seeing your reactions as they please you. They like whipping and inflicting marks on your body with heat, this is probably why they are also into knife play. They like bondage as well, again the submitting yourselves to them is something that comes forward.

While they want you to submit to them, possibly embarrass you, making you do everything they want you to do. They find you having fun and enjoying the experience important to, they love to spoil you from time to time, yet their own experience is important for them too.

Specific Scene:

Somewhere on a training ground you are fighting or playing some sport of some kind. You try to overpower them and tackling them, something that fails and they do it to you instead. You lay on your back, them on top of you watching your lips as you both are breathing deeply because of the adrenaline[Take this part if it resonates; he holds a knife to your throat as well, not in a threatening way].

Shufflemancy:

Would You Mind by Janet Jackson:

An intimidating energy for sure is present in this pile, this doesn’t have to be bad in anyway, it can just mean that your Person of Choice is some sort of authority figure in a way or just a dominating and intimidating person on itself. They love teasing you, using you for their own pleasure yet make sure you are enjoying it as well.

They love your body, they love your skin and they love to show everyone via your skin that you belong to them. This can be showing via bruises, marks, hickeys etc. They do feel possessive in some way, this doesn’t have to immediately mean something bad, just an observation that comes forward. They really like to play with you and do things to you, they want to make you enjoy everything, be able to feel confident in your own skin, be able to get out of your comfort zone and possibly try out new things. If it doesn’t work out that’s totally fine as well, just know that if you want to try out something they’d most likely be okay with it.

 ‘’Cause I’m gonna bathe you, play with you, rub you caress you.’’

‘’I just wanna touch you, tease you, lick you, please you.’’

‘’You missed a spot, there.’’

Channeling:

‘’I can’t wait until I can touch you all over your body, I miss that feeling.’’

– Short hair, Green/Blue/Grey eyes.

‘’I want to drag this against your skin, I’m sure you’d like it, if you are open to it of course.’’

– Dark Hair.

‘’You want my brother to join in as well? I know you probably like us both.’’

– Red hair, normal/tall height.

‘’Your face under me, looking me all up and down in fear and excitement is something that would really turn me on.’’

– Light hair, Nice Nails(don’t ask me idk).

‘’You sure you want to do this? Please make your boundaries clear for me I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’’

– Polite, Kind, Feels pretty intelligent.

‘’I can’t wait to kiss you! Please tell me more about your day, I love to hear that.’’

- To the smaller side, nice smile, caring.

‘’I miss you, my dear. Contact me more, will you?’’

– Dark hair, bit of a jawline.

Pile 7:

Tarot:

What I am seeing is that there is a clear balance in domination and submission, they feel most comfortable with shifting positions from time to time, this is mostly because they want to gain self-control, they want to try things out and accept their emotions. It also feels like they try to switch out positions from time to time to keep you safe in a sense, it feels like they have some sort of internal anger or something which they can’t properly express because they find those things hard. So they choose to not always be the dominant to make sure you feel safe and are safe while they teach themselves that you don’t always need control.

They love your body, especially your legs so they will most likely love it when you show them or use them in sensual ways while living your life. They want to adore you, and you adoring them. They really want to do their best and do everything in their power to please you while trying to be the perfect person for you, it’s like a fear of some kind deep down in them that they won’t be good enough or that you will leave them if they aren’t the way you expected them to be.

They would like taking baths with you while having intercourse, in the shower, in the ocean etc. They find this really romantic and would love to be able to share these experiences with you, live through these experiences with you. They want things to go smoothly and natural, they aren’t really a fan of planning out when you guys are going to do something; if you both are horny and it is possible to act on it, just do it, no waiting nor planning.

Something about you that they also love is your hair, they love to touch it, feel it, possibly even smell it from time to time, it makes them feel safe and close to you on a certain level they otherwise don’t feel that close to, it’s just something that makes them feel complete, happy and totally in love.

Specific Scene:

You guys are taking a bath together, flower petals and all. They lay between your legs as you caress their hair, them doing the same to you. It doesn’t necessarily have any sexual tint to it, it’s just a romantic happening in where you both enjoy the others presence.

Shufflemancy:

Sex on the Beach by PARTYNEXTDOOR:

They love your body, the forms of them, even if you feel like you are insecure about them they want you to know that they absolutely adore your whole body, especially your legs. They do their best to please you in any way they can, always making sure everything you guys do is done with full trust and comfortableness. Again, having intercourse on the beach, in bathtubs or showers, oceans etc. really comes forward. They do not necessarily have something with exhibitionism, just these places they find really romantic. They want you to feel confident, this is also something why they would like to switch roles for from time to time, to let you learn that you can have confidence, that you really are a bad bitch, someone that knows their worth which no one can walk over.

They are insecure of some kind, this isn’t something that should be worrying but they love you so much that they are scared to loose you, so they try to please you as best as you can, sometimes ignoring their own needs as well. This overall feels like a healthy and equal relationship sexually seen.

‘’I think everyone should see you, baby, open up for me.’’

‘’Sex in the ocean, sex on the beach.’’

Channeling:

‘’My dear, I miss you, and do not give up because I didn’t forget about that deal we made.’’

– Blond hair, kind but popular vibes.

‘’Damn, I really find you hot you know that? Act like it queen!’’

– Spontaneous, relatively young.

‘’Hm, you really make me excited every time you do those things with your legs.’’

– Really short, dark hair.

‘’I want to fuck you while I give you my cigarette.’’

– Older, beginning of a beard.

‘’You still love me right?’’

– Doesn’t want to be described.

Pile 8:

Tarot:

Right of the bat is strip teasing something that comes forward. They would love to just lay back and enjoy the view of you teasingly taking your clothes off while sensually touching and moving your body. Something that gets to me is that they love painted nails, especially with colours that can pop yet are still subtle, this makes it even more intriguing and exciting to watch you.

Something that goes hand in hand with this strip teasing is watching you play with yourself. They really like it to see you do things to yourself while they look from further away, building up their wished desire while not being able to touch you yet. They are classic, and would like it most when you two have intercourse in the bedroom, dim lightning etc. There isn’t any specific type of BDSM but some scratches, hickeys and choking can be liked to do from time to time.

They can like it to take you while you are still fully/partly dressed, something about this excites them a lot and makes them desire your body even more. Even though the positions of you two seem equal they do like to dominate you in a subtle way and surprise you every now and then, making the experience a bit more exciting and unpredictable. Overall they love to make you cum and hear you say there name in a sensual and loving way, they really use intercourse as a way to get closer to you and get to know you more on certain levels they otherwise can’t reach.

Specific Scene:

You guys are laying on a bed with a lot of fluffy, white blankets, kissing each other while whispering sweet nothings to one another, holding each other’s hand tightly, clearly loving each other’s touch everywhere. Overall this is a very loving and romantic happening.

Shufflemancy:

Hold Tight by Justin Bieber:

You feeling comfortable with everything that is happening seems something that is really important to them. This may go with past happenings of you, them or both where trusting someone else or doing something intimate went wrong and you lost trust and confidence in yourself, your appearance and gave an overall nervous feeling every time things get more intimate.

They want you to learn how to trust again, making you know that they love you badly and that they don’t want to loose you. Some feeling of potentially losing the other or a missing feeling comes up, this can be a fear of them or something that has happened, just take what resonates and leave the rest. Overall this part really wants you to know that everything is okay and that it is totally normal to sometimes feel nervous and that you should get to know your boundaries and get confident in speaking these loud.

‘’Want you wrapped around my arms.’’

‘’Hold you tight.’’

‘’A turned up kind of loving just won’t stop.’’

Channeling:

‘’I love you, and it took way too long for me to be able to say this, but I love you dearly, don’t forget that.’’

– Kind, young, sweet, nervous smile.

‘’I know I sound way too kind but remember I am not! I can be mean okay!’’

– Blond, spiky hair.

‘’Sweetheart, you are stressing too much, take your time okay?’’

– Brownish hair, relatively tall.

‘’Studying is important but you may be overdoing it, you know that. Your health is more important than your grades.’’

– Boy-Next-Door vibes.

‘’They aren’t the one for you, but if you’re happy, I am happy. Just be careful, ok?’’

– Green hair, bit insecure although they don’t want to show it.

Pile 9:

Tarot:

A feminine energy is something very present in this pile. This can be your Person of Choice but also you yourself who is the more dominant one in your relationship. Either way this feminine energy does take the front row with decision making in the bedroom.

They want to adore you and make you feel like you are a queen, they do whatever you say they should do. They like the feeling of possibly being degraded and used, yet loving gestures every once in a while is appreciated. Because they want to feel this way they also love to worship your feet.

They want to feel connected to you, this is something they feel like intercourse really helps with, just harmony between both partners and becoming one with thoughts and self. Passion is really important to them, as is sexual attraction. If there isn’t a bit of sexual attraction they do not feel like that person is the right one for a long term relationship.

They want to explore their sexual desires with you, learn how you both work and enjoy this experience with you. Intercourse is seen by them as something which you can learn from, it’s something sacred, something that can help you grow as a person.

Specific Scene:

You are sitting on a throne, chair, couch etc. with one leg over the other as you look down at your partner who is giving your feet little pecks, hoping for the slightest bit of praise, something they get and are joyous about since you give them a reassuring, kind smile back.

Shufflemancy:

What You Need by The Weeknd:

They want you to be pleasured, to be able to enjoy every experience, do everything you ask them to do. In the bedroom they really like the idea of being cared for in such a way that you let them cater your needs. They do what you want them to do, they get something they like to do back in return. This dealing in needs is something they love since doing something while the other does less or the other way around just because ‘I love you’ is something they don’t like. They want to earn your happiness, your praise, your smile, their pleasure, they want to earn it, not just simply get it because they want it. The thought of having to work to get you is something that makes you even more desirable to them. Worshipping you via caring for your feet is again, something that comes up. This isn’t necessarily a kink to them, but a way to show you how much they want to care for you and listen to you since feet are the lowest part of your body.

‘’I just want to take you there.’’

‘’I do everything.’’

‘’Baby, leave them high heel shoes.’’

Channeling:

‘’I really like your heels, I hope you can use them to kick me.’’

– Shy, hair in front of one eye.

‘’Suck my cock like the good girl you are, when it’s my turn to make you do stuff, of course.’’

– Glasses, dark hair.

‘’I want to suck your boobs until they lactate.’’

– Short, seems just being horny in general.

‘’I wish to speak to you again soon, maybe go a bit further than talking, I can watch you if you want to yk.’’

– Tall, blonde hair.

‘’I love you *petname*, don’t forget that, I’m still here.’’

– Doesn’t want to be described.

‘’I- uh- I love you, was that ok?’’

– Insecure, bit small in height.

Pile 10:

Tarot:

Right of the bat there is a lot going on in this pile. Next to having certain kinks and wishes there’s a lot of distrust and insecurity going on, of course if this doesn’t resonate leave it at that but I found it important to tell you guys.

They like bondage and being the boss over you, if I had to give them a certain role it would be a kind-dominant who doesn’t do any hardcore BDSM of some kind(except bondage to some degree). They want to make sure you both are okay with what is being done and they know you will/was/would be nervous with certain things, this is why they always want to make sure what is done is done correctly, safe and with honest consent.

They like to take your clothes off of your body as a sign of trust and intimacy, being able to make sure that with every little action taken you are okay with it happening. Balance in trust is really something that comes front in this pile, I feel like this is because you or them really have a bad past with these things or just a built up fear or nervousness in general. They want to take care of you and slowly let you get to know yourself as you both grow in the relationship, letting you get to know yourself better etc. I feel like they purposely do not like to say what they are really into because for them at this moment it isn’t important at all because everything they do with you they enjoy and they want you to feel safe.

Specific Scene:

They slowly lay you down on your back as they hang above you, giving you little pecks on your lips, face, cheeks, forehead, neck, collar bones and up again, saying every time, with every kiss how much they love you and what they love about you. You are a bit tense but with every reassuring thought and smile you get more comfortable to in the end really enjoy the touch.

Shufflemancy:

Often by The Weeknd:

They trust you and want you to learn how to trust them, that you can be safe with them, that you can share everything with them. You may feel like they are experienced because they’ve had a lot of past relationships or have had a lot of experience with possible flings in the past, this may also be the reason why insecurity and distrust sometimes come up. They want you to know that they aren’t planning on ruining this beautiful relationship with them and that even though you are sad, or they are sad that that is totally fine and okay because life isn’t perfect and it doesn’t have to be.

They want to make love to you in a soft and loving way, really making the experience comfortable for you. If you aren’t ready yet they can wait, sex isn’t the most important thing in the world for them, far from it. For some reason this pile didn’t give a lot of sexual activity, this is probably because they want you to focus on yourself first and know everything is going to be okay, you aren’t obligated to do anything before a certain time.

‘’I’m just thinkin’ ‘bout you.’’

‘’Now you love me so good.’’

Channeling:

‘’You don’t have to worry sweetheart, everything comes in time.’’

– Dark, soft hair.

‘’I can’t wait until I lick your pussy dry, you’ll enjoy every second of it.’’

– Light, curly hair.

‘’See? You don’t have to worry about anything, our time will come when you’re ready.’’

– Green, Average height, maybe a bit smaller.

‘’I can’t wait until you lay under me and I can look into your beautiful eyes.’’

– Good Skin, blond hair.

‘’You know it’s me, bit surprising isn’t it?’’

– Smirk, can be perceived as intimidating energy.

‘’Hm, I can’t wait to hold you close to me.’’

– Pink hair.

‘’I miss you, but you do not need to worry, I can fix it on my own.’’

– Dark Blue hair, pointy nose.