#parts for rv rv lock

[romanoffsbish]

Bible Study

Priest!Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Warnings: BLASPHEMOUS! (Read with caution) Mean-ish WandaNat. (Am I a whore?)

Smut: Father (N), Mommy (W), Bunny (R) |Fingering (R), Oral (W), Unprotected Sex (R-Nat has a Dick), Kinks: Spitting, Slapping, Praising, Breeding.

18+ | Minors DNI | Please Don’t Report^ Labeled.

4,674 Words

Wanda knew everyone in town, it was part of the gig being the pastors wife and all, so when you entered their church this morning her curious eyes locked right in on your docile form as you took a seat on the aisle three rows back.

"Isn't she so pretty Natty?" Wanda held onto her wife's bicep with unexpected force as she surveyed the crowd settling into the pews, "She's precious, can we have her, please?"

Natasha chuckled, "Will that make my detka happy?" Wanda nodded. "Then she's all ours."

The couple shared a sweet kiss before Wanda took her rightful place in the front pew, right by their twins, Billy and Tommy Romanoff. They were a perfect split, Billy looked just like Wanda, while Tommy looked like Natasha.

——

Natasha softly smiled down at her family, then she looked out at her congregation with a grin, "Good morning everyone, shall we begin?"

—

The sermon was great, it didn't feel anything like you were used to in the past, there was an air of understanding in the preachers eyes and you knew it to be genuine as she had a wife. Word traveled around this small town fast, which is why you ended up here this Sunday.

There wasn't judgement here, and that was the way it should always be, as the bible itself says.

There was a post sermon luncheon being hosted across the way from the main church in a smaller building, it definitely piqued your interest, but you were unable to bring yourself to enter, so you did the next best thing and turned to leave towards the parking lot.

"Where are you sneaking off to dorogoy?"

"Oh, um hi there ma'am, I was headed home."

Wanda winced, "Please, refrain from calling me ma'am, it feels like you've just wounded me honey," she gripped at her heart to feign pain, causing you to chuckle softly, "My apologies..."

"Wanda," she held out her hand, you nervously accepted it, and your knees threatened to buckle at the mere sight of her gorgeous smile.

"So, instead of heading home, how about you follow me in? We'd love to get to know you."

"Y/N."

"A pretty name, attached to such a pretty face, what a shocker," she mused, relishing in the sight of your widened eyes, and at the way your head fell to hide your sudden nervous smile.

Wanda escorted you to the table with her kids, "I'll be right back with some snacks, sit tight."

"Hi!" Tommy shouted, you met his enthusiasm with a calm wave. "I'm Tommy, this is Billy."

"Hi," Billy greeted, far more reserved than his brother, "You're new, what brings you here?"

"I'm on a journey of self discovery actually," you admitted, rather easily at that, "I'm from out West, but I decided to venture out and in my journey I seem to have ended up here."

"Interesting, of all the places you could've traveled to, tell me honey, why New Jersey?"

It shocked you to see the pastor stood beside you, she was no longer in her church attire, but instead she wore a pair of blue jeans, with a simple white shirt that clung to her muscular figure in a way that seemed far too sinful for the venue, but your eyes still wandered.

"I-I'm not exactly sure Pastor Romanoff, I just know something told me that this was where I needed to be, so I parked my RV and stayed."

Natasha smirked, if her job has taught her anything, it's that God works in mysterious ways, and that this here was a true testament to the powerful nature of divine intervention.

"Please, call me Nat," she extended her hand out, and even if your hand was clammy, like before you accepted it, and whispered, "Y/N."

"Well Y/N, we're so happy to have a new face around, especially one as gorgeous as yours," she winked and you about lost the ability to breathe as she looked at you like you were her prey while her children were sat there coloring.

Wanda returned to see you looking absolutely awestruck, your lips pursed, while your eyes were chock-full of wonder as well as terror. Their prayers have finally been answered is all she can think as she settles down beside you, a smidge too close for a preachers wife you reckon, but you also can't be bothered to care.

"Hey, Y/N," you turned to look at her, your breath hitching as you nearly bumped noses, "Are you free for an introductory bible study?" Wanda smiled at you, innocent in nature, but you could see something more devious brewing behind those mesmerizing viridescent orbs.

"I-I, where, when?"

Natasha smirked, "Here, tonight, let's say 6?"

"Yeah, okay, what do I need to bring?" you asked while jumping to your feet in a rush.

Wanda followed your movement, placing a hand on your lower back she gently guided you to the exit with her wife right behind her, the women smiling brightly as you faced them.

"Just bring your pretty self," Wanda said while placing a kiss on your slightly heated cheek, "We'll handle the rest, don't worry about it."

When you got into your RV your skin was crawling, every alarm that could go off did, but you simply turned the radio up to drown them out, and headed straight towards your hotel. Where you paced for about an hour, deciding if returning was a smart idea, and wondering why you had the urge to shave for such a night.

You're preparing for the likes of a date, when in reality you're meant to meet the pastor and her wife to go over various pieces of scripture. You could use some sort of help honestly, resisting temptation was never exactly your strong suit, and with women as gorgeous as them you were perceivably hopeless if you read the vibe right.

And God, were you hoping you did...

—

After hours of deliberation you found yourself eagerly driving back to the church, a bible in your shaky hand as you got out of the vehicle. But it mattered not when your heart was consumed entirely by sin, your body matched that sentiment, adorned in a lacy red two piece that you could catch a glimpse of through your sheer white top tucked into a tight black skirt.

"Oh fuck," Natasha cursed, she could feel her cock hardening at the sight of you through the blinds in her office, "Wanda, come look at her."

"Yebena mat'," Wanda cursed in her wives mother tongue, "Come on, she's waiting!"

(Holy shit)

Natasha and Wanda quietly approached you from behind as you were stood in front of the church doors in wait for the clock to strike six.

"Aren't you an early bird?" Wanda announced herself with a playful smile when you turned to her, a bit startled, but you were able to recover pretty quickly, "I haven't got much else to do."

"Really? You're dressed so," Natasha paused, eyes drinking you in, her tongue seductively moving passed her lips as she wetted them before her tone dropped, "Provocatively."

You smirked, unsure where this sudden wave of confidence of yours came from, but you were ready to run with it, "Oh, well I actually have a date after bible study, but I thought I looked cute, are you saying this gives the wrong idea?"

Natasha's jaw clenched as she brushed passed you with the church keys, meanwhile Wanda's only giveaway towards jealousy was her eyes. They spoke in place of her neutral expression.

"It's cute, but Natasha's right, you look slutty."

Words worked too you supposed...

They left you stood in the doorway with your mouth agape, and a sinking feeling setting in. You were just trying to tease them, but it seems all you did was anger them, and likely ruined your chances of this fantasy to actually happen.

"Are you coming Y/N? You're letting all the cold air in honey," Wanda called out to you, and it was her soft voice giving you whiplash that brought you back from your mind full up on turmoil. "Yup, sorry," you shuffled inside, shutting the large doors behind you, and in doing so, you effectively sealed your fate.

Natasha cleared her throat, "Come here," she was stern in not only tone but stance as she stood at her podium behind the altar, and you had no interest in making her mad so your legs swiftly brought you to her. "Kneel," she husked, sending shivers down your spine as you were quick to obey the alluring woman in charge.

"You won't be needing this," Wanda slipped the bible from your hands, leaving you in a state of total confusion, your eyes tracked the room as you began to realize that this was indeed a closed bible study, and not just a fantasy.

"Look at me," Natasha commanded, and your flickering gaze instantly settled on her stony face, "From this moment forward you will call me Father, and if at anytime you wish to leave, you're free to go, do I make myself clear?"

"Answer her malysh," Wanda said from right beside you where she was crouching down to be on your level, "Don't upset her now honey, or this'll be no fun for any of us, and mommy wants to have fun with her precious bunny."

You nodded without a moment's hesitation, "Yes father, I understand," you smiled at her, and for a brief moment you saw her lips upturn before they fell back into a neutral position.

Natasha turned away to grab some things, and as she did that you released a nervous breath, only to have another caught in your throat as Wanda pressed herself into you. "You're so pretty bunny," she craned her head around to gently kiss your cheek, an act of faux innocence because in the next instance she was kissing your tingling lips hard enough to leave you breathless, "Can I touch your body, hm?"

The question felt near redundant, her lips have already touched yours, while her hands held onto your hips for support from behind, so you knew that what she was asking wasn't as simple as it sounded, and you were so eager to give in, you nodded vigorously, but Natasha gripped your chin before you could nod again.

"Use your words," she held you tighter for emphasis, "Unless you wish for consequences."

"Sorry father, I-I promise to be good," Natasha nodded, and once she loosened her grip you turned to face Wanda, "Yes mommy, you are both free to touch me however you like."

"There you go," Natasha smiled at you, it was soft, but in a condescending way, "I knew you weren't just a pretty face, such a smart girl."

While Wanda's hands bunched your skirt up Natasha's hand gripped your chin again, far less tightly than before, "Open up bunny."

Natasha watched with pride as you obediently parted your lips, she lifted the chilled golden chalice to her lips, sipping the ruby tinted wine into her mouth before she slowly leaned over, and sensually spit the wine directly into yours.

It was perfectly synchronized, the altered liquid permeated your tastebuds, and then it slid down your throat just as Wanda slid two of her fingers into your dripping cunt. Natasha pressed her lips to yours just as a scream was ripped from your burning throat, catching it with efficient ease, and spurring your arousal on tenfold as she slid her tongue over yours.

Never in your days did you expect communion to play out like this, but you'd honestly never felt closer to a higher being than you did now. Natasha, and Wanda were the holy figureheads for this small town, you understood the appeal right away with their charms, and now you thanked the world for introducing them to you.

"You're dripping," Wanda groaned, "Good grief, do you hear yourself detka? So wet."

You'd willed yourself to feel shame for what was taking place here tonight, you felt like a common mans' whore with how easily you were giving it up, but you just couldn't seem to care. With the way she fucked you, and Lord, with the words she said, they had you in a chokehold. "It's like this pussy was meant for mommy's fingers. Don't you agree detka?"

Natasha pulled away from you, the picture perfect display of cool as you panted loudly. She returned to her previous position, moving about to put things in order for, well, you hadn't a clue honestly, but you were excited.

"Answer mommy," Natasha commanded, "Sorry father," you choked out over a moan, "Y-yes mommy, I was made just for you to fuck."

"Watch your mouth," Natasha chided, her hand made instant contact with your cheek, "Pretty girls like you need not speak like that Y/N."

"Oh, okay, I-I'm sorry father, I won’t swear,” you stuttered, mind currently reeling from how your body alit with this nearly painful desire as her hand harshly collided with your skin, you nearly asked her to do it again, you’re certain Wanda knew too with the way she smirked against your shoulder, you’d clenched so hard she felt your walls suck her in even deeper.

“U shlyukhi bolevoy sindrom,” Wanda spoke in secrets to her wife, you dropped the redheads gaze as soon as she looked to you with a smirk, she knew now. “Imeyet smysl.”

(The slut has a pain kink / Makes sense)

You wish you could say you were embarrassed now, but you weren’t, only eager for more.

The pastor began to hum a familiar tune to fill the nearly silent room, and with that followed Wanda's sultry voice,"'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace, my fears relieved." Natasha unexpectedly sang out the next line, "How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed."

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound," the women kept their voices low, their raspy tones wrapped around your brain as they harmonized, further clouding your lusty mind. "Sing with us sweetheart," Wanda nibbled on the lobe of your ear as her thumb grazed your clit, pulling a set of delicious mewls from you.

"Go on bunny, be our good girl," Natasha purred, her face now in front of yours as she crouched down before you with a sly smirk.

"That saved a wretch like me," you were alone as you choked out the next line, working your hardest to not get too lost in the pleasure that you forget the words, you weren't sure she wouldn't stop if you did. Wanda sped up her pace in reward, her lips parted as she breathed heavily, seeing you so pliant for them made her heart swell with hope, and she was giddy to see her wife's eyes held the same dream when they locked gazes. Natasha nodded; it was time.

"I once was lost, but now I'm found," all three of you sang the next line in synchrony, "Go on detka, let go, finish the song for us."

Her words felt coded, and as you sang the last line you knew they were, "Was blind, but now I see," your vision blurred as you came a second later, finishing on Wanda's fingers as she'd curled them with a sort of expertise.

"Good girl," Wanda purred, you whimpered at her praise, you felt your walls clench around her fingers, and cried a moment later when she pulled them from you. You were spent, your body now sticky with a thin layer of sweat, your head rested on Wanda's shoulder as your heart pounded in your head, you didn't see nor hear what the women were saying or doing.

You'd never experienced as powerful of an orgasm before, it was very much life changing, and you nearly chuckled that it happened in a church. A place of worship; you surely felt that.

It wasn't until you felt pointed fingertips tap the side of your head that you opened your eyes. Natasha stared down at you with a grin, "What do you say bunny?" You smiled softly, "Thank you mommy," you turned awkwardly to kiss her lips in thanks. "Thank you Father."

Natasha beamed genuinely, loving the way that you understood without much guidance. You were perfect, her wife always had a knack for finding prizes, and she clearly has yet to fail.

Wanda's sticky, glistening fingers flooded your vision a second later as she dipped them into a metal basin, metaphorically washing her hands clean of your sin, but you noticed she left out two of her coated fingers. You watched with a dry mouth as she lifted her hand up to her wife who didn't hesitate to lick it clean, "Sweet..."

You nearly fainted, traces of your slick now layered over her lower lip, shining just right under the dimly lit church lights. Wanda's moan directly into your ear after she tasted you next made your body tremble with renewed need as you kept your eyes locked on her wife's. It felt as if they sought to kill you with their provocations, so sexy in their natural states.

Then, the icing on the cake came when the pastor dipped two of her fingers into the tainted water, stirring it languidly until she was satisfied that your essence had mixed in well.

"Vo imya papy," Natasha chanted in her mother tongue, her thumb dripping with the not so holy water pressed a circle into your forehead, then her hand returned to the bowl, "Mamochki," her thumb swirled over your left cheek, "I dragotsennogo zaychika ty budesh' nashim," and then repeated on the right.

(in the name of the father / mommy / and the precious bunny you will be ours.)

Wanda nearly snorted as the words translated in her mind, her wife always did have an odd sense of humor; you were likely none the wiser.

"Are you ready for more?" Natasha asked, and once you replied her pants were at her ankles. The redhead watched the way your eyes fell to her tented boxers instantaneously, "You see what you did to me bunny? It's aching, and the only remedy is to let me breed your pussy, ok?"

It was a risky game saying yes, you weren't on birth control, and though you wanted kids, you weren't exactly financially stable being on the road, but when you felt Wanda grip your hips a bit tighter, and saw the hopeful look in Nat's eyes you realized your life was about to change.

You nodded, but quickly fixed your mistake, "Please father, fill me up, make me pregnant."

"Oh bunny," Wanda coo'd as her arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace, "You're going to have to clean up the mess you made of mommy too," she swiftly shifted from behind you, and gently moved you to lie flat on the ground with her arms still around you. "Can you do that?"

"Of course," you beamed, a bit too excited for such a blessing. "Such a perfect gift you are." Wanda pecked your lips, then booped your nose, a soft moment before all the carnality.

Natasha cock sprung to life as she removed her boxers, she saw the way your eyes widened at her size, then she shifted her gaze as you did. The redhead began to lazily stroke herself as you both watched Wanda slip out of her dress.

"Wow," you gasped, both women chuckled as they took in your enamored features, "You're both so beautiful, a match made in heaven."

The irony of your words seemed to be lost on you in your dizzied state, but both women had to stifle a laugh. With how tonight's transpired, it's unlikely any of you are ever ascending.

"Have you seen yourself bunny?" Natasha spoke, "You've got to be like a fallen angel."

A warmth blossomed beneath your skin, and your bashful smile gave you away, you'd been well worked up as it was, but that did you in.

Within a moments time your brain further short circuited as the brunette straddled your chest, you internally cursed as you felt her wetness dripping down from the swell of your breasts. It was only turning you on more to know you caused any of this, and soon enough you moaned unabashedly as her aromatic arousal was pooling in the divots of your neck.

Wanda tutted as your hands tried to bring her closer, "Patience now bunny, I wanna see your pretty face first when daddy fills you up."

Natasha lined herself up with your hole, she slipped her tip in with ease, yet you clenched. The redhead groaned as you held her in a vice grip, with a harsh thrust of her hips half of her length was sheathed within you. Stretching your walls further than they’d ever been before, you moaned in a high pitch as her thick veins throbbed beneath the crushing pressure of your delighted pussy as you clenched.

Wanda’s legs were growing tired, as was her patience with the pit forming in her stomach, so without warning she slid down your chest and onto your agape mouth. She nearly fell forward as your screams echoed through her pussy, and sent shivers throughout her body.

Natasha had used the distraction of Wanda to fully pull out, then thrust back in until she was bottomed out. Wanda’s loud moan was simply an echo, her body a vessel for your pleasures release, letting Natasha know she was an expert at her craft, with her ego now doubled.

There was a cycle at play here, Wanda knew this very well, Natasha was staving off her release, but all the while ensuring that the both of you came, and well into the double digits.

Wanda was out of lives as you sucked her clit between your teeth harshly when her wife had slapped your clit with incredible force. The way you ate her out was different than she’d ever experienced before, it was a sloppy, tempered kinda carnal, it was so sensual, she could swear she was in Utopia, and she’d once thought she met God when she actually bagged Natasha.

Wanda surged forward, landing painfully onto the hardwood on her hands and knees due to the overstimulation. You barely had a chance to gulp down any air before Natasha was devouring your lips, her tongue greedily entering your mouth, lapping up her wife’s essence as she busts a nut without warning.

Her face falls into the crook of your neck with a pleasurable grimace, she was grunting hotly as she chased after her ever fleeting high, “Fuck!”Sounds reminiscent of a tidal wave could be heard between your legs as she desperately continued to fuck her seed into your womb.

“Oh bunny, daddy can’t wait to see your belly swell, pregnant with our kittens,” she was panting against your neck now as she built herself up to another fast approaching high. This time she completely stills as her orgasm paralyzes her with blinding pleasure, and you writhe as her seed instigates another big O.

Once she regains control of her body she jackhammers her hips into yours with no regard to your cries of anguish. “You’ll be an amazing mom Y/N, so good to all our babies,” she honestly whispered against your sweaty forehead as she laid a kiss there. Natasha had finally grown tired, pleased with her efficiency she finally allowed herself to rest atop of you, and stopped her attack on your sensitive pussy.

Wanda had already finished redressing by the time you and Natasha had finished recovering. Though her panties only grew wet as she watched the two of you beautifully fall apart. Once Natasha pulled out Wanda was kneeling at your side, her left hand cupped your face, while her other cupped your cunt. You hissed at the barest contact, whimpering, “no more,” as her fingers dipped inside, shoving back in the mixed arousal slowly oozing out of you.

Wanda didn’t want to hurt you, so she stopped after a few thrusts, scooping her fingers as she pulled out to bring the arousal to her mouth. You whimpered as she licked one of her digits clean, “Shh, mommy is gonna share bunny.” Wanda pressed her other finger passed your kiss swollen lips, leaving it there for you to suck on in a self soothing manner as she cleaned you up with a warm towel from the church kitchen.

You whined in subtle anguish, but you settled when she smiled at you with a tender gaze. In a haze of minutes for you, Wanda had redressed you and gotten you up onto at least your knees.

"Look at me bunny," Natasha cupped your cheek with a contrasting tenderness to every other touch she'd given you tonight, and she smiled just as tenderly when your hazy eyes lifted to meet hers, "Welcome to the church."

You snorted amusedly, "Thank you father,” your voice hoarse after the many harsh moans.

Natasha smirked down at you, the pad of her thumb ran over your lips, a soft gasp left her when you wrapped your lips around her digit, "Careful sweet girl, trust me, you can't handle another round tonight," her eyes darkened, and you were convinced of her terrifying honesty as you swallowed thickly and released her thumb.

"She's right detka," Wanda guided you to your feet, and kissed you with a natural smile, "Stick around town though, and I promise you we'll see to it that you're properly cared for by us."

"How so?" Wanda smiled, "In all the ways that matter, you could be ours, if you'd want that."

"But you have a date," Natasha reminded you, and you watched Wanda frown while still held tight in her embrace, "I-I was just kidding."

Wanda pressed her lips to your cheek, "That's so delightful to hear sweetheart, we aren't ones for sharing," leaving behind a smudge as she'd just freshly reapplied a layer of her lipstick.

Natasha reached for your hand next, so you extended yours to her, and she pulled you in for a far less tender kiss, but the way she cupped one half of your face told you she held you in an equally as tender regard as her wife.

"We'll see you next Sunday kotenok, drive safely, and don't forget to thank the Lord for all he's done for you in your nightly prayers," she softly pushed you passed the large oak doors, and you turned back to the happy couple with a smile that made their hearts flutter, "Thanks."

Wanda smiled warmly, "Pleasure was ours." Natasha winked at you, adorning that stupid smirk that made your core throb, you slowly wobbled your way back to your RV, a perfect reminder that you definitely did need to rest.

Wanda blew you a kiss, and watched with delight as every wall you had left crumbled as you dopily caught it. "I think I'm in love Natty."

The redhead turned away so she could lock up, "Mhm, she's a perfect fit for us, let's remember to thank God for divining us such a miracle,” suavely turning back around she sent a wink.

Wanda pressed her front into her wives, hands flat against her chest as she gazed up at her in wonder, "Do you think it worked?" Natasha's arms overlapped behind her wives lower back, her face contorted thoughtfully before she leant in to peck her alluring lips, "If it didn't, we'll make sure it does next time, she's ours now."

The couple shared a soft kiss, an excited smile worn on both their faces as they drove home. Soft tunes filled the air as they rode with the top of their mustang down, both women silent as they each dreamt up how to decorate the guest room. If all things worked out well, in a weeks time they hoped to be bringing you back with them, to the place you'll soon call home. 

——

[rogueddie]

Safety Net T | 545 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is feeling safe

When Eddie told Steve that he would be there for him no matter what, that the monsters he's trying to keep Eddie safe from don't scare him, that Steve will always be his number one...

Well, he didn't think the monster part was literal.

He's sure that the only thing getting him through the Upside Down was pure adrenaline.

But, now that they're out, he can feel it catching up to him. He struggles to keep his hands still as he points out the war zone ad.

Steve is the only thing holding him together. He keeps shifting closer, swaying so their shoulders bump together or finding an excuse to lean over, so their sides are pressed together. He even managed to use Max on the phone as the perfect excuse to throw his arm over Eddie's shoulders.

But, holding a bin lid with nails hammered through it and looking down at Dustin... a kid, someone so young and small and...

"Eddie?" Dustin calls, worried.

"I need a minute, alone, ok? Just- one moment."

He stumbles back into the RV, relieved to hear Dustin arguing against whoever tries to follow him inside.

Until the door opens and Steve snaps back at him; "I'm making sure he's ok. If he doesn't want me here then he can tell me and I'll leave."

Dustins response is lost in how hard Steve slams the door shut, locking it before turning to Eddie.

"Oh, Eds," he whispers.

He sits next to him, wrapping him up in his arms. It's easy enough with how Eddie is sat, arms curled around his knees and hugging his legs to his chest.

"This is horrible," Eddie mumbles, turning so he can bruy his face in Steves neck, grabbing onto the front of his top. "I hate this, I hate this so much."

"I know," Steve shushes him, rocking him slightly, brushing one hand through his hair. "I know. I've got you. We're gonna win this, ok? We've got a plan. We've done this before. It's going to be ok. You're going to be ok."

"You can't promise that. This whole... thing... it's fucked, man, it's so fucked."

"I can and I am. You're going to be ok," Steve gently pulls back a little, so he can look Eddie in the eye, one hand cupping his face. "You are. You just have to listen to Dustin on this. He's a shit, but he cares about you. You just need to get through the gate, that's it. You'll be alright."

Eddie snorts, grabbing hold of Steves wrist and keeping his hand pressed to his face. "Telling me to listen to Dustin? Now I know you're lying, it's the end of the world, he's gonna hold that over our heads for the rest of our lives."

"Oh, it'll be terrible." He lifts his other hand, holding Eddies face in his hands, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. "Seriously though, Eds, you'll be fine. You're gonna be safe, I'll make sure of it. I'll give Dustin whatever rant he needs to hear. You're gonna be fine and then we can finally go on that coffee date."

"Steve-"

"I promise. I'll do anything I need to do to keep you safe. Anything."

"Just... come back to me."

[juuuulez]

📰 | part two: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.

summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.

previous | next

I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!

Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.

A few days later, and you’re back.

The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.

Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.

Well, you felt a little bad last night.

The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.

It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.

At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.

That’s how you saw it.

You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.

You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.

Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.

You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.

Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.

Or mostly handled.

“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.

He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.

“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”

The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.

You could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”

There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.

Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.

And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.

Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.

A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.

“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.

He doesn’t answer.

You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.

But it works.

“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.

You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”

This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.

“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”

You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”

It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”

You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.

He wants to be in charge.

Luckily, you love to be petty.

As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.

“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”

Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”

You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.

“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.

It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.

“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.

“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”

This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.

“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.

Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”

It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”

“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.

The fuck does he know?

You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.

“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”

This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”

It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.

You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.

But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.

“The hell are you doin’, girl?”

Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.

“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.

It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”

And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.

To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”

You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.

Next time you’ll get him.

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 6

Yay! Another Boy with a Bat! In this we have Steve and the rest of the seniors finding out if they graduate and Steve getting squicked at his own pool.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

****

Things began to improve between Steve and Nancy but Eddie was still keeping an eye on her. His hackles were up now, and he had no intentions of dropping them any time soon.

Steve was glad that swim season was up and that the basketball team had done so badly their losses far outweighed their wins. And while he was upset he wasn’t starting spring training with the baseball team, it was nice to spend his afternoons with Eddie.

He could see that Eddie was really struggling with his homework, but whenever Steve asked, his boyfriend would blow him off. He was fine. They would graduate together. Just Steve wait and see.

During that last free period of the day, Steve began work on his next comic. He kept it short like he did the other one. Just the part about the junkyard and the dogs. Maybe the next comic would deal with the tunnels, but not this one.

Steve sketched out the RV, changing it from the bus it actually was. He actually enjoying find out ways to hide the details of his experiences into the comic.

What was even better was that he was pretty sure it would even take the smartest members of the Party a couple of pages to figure it out. He had taken out his pen to start inking the page when he felt someone knock into his elbow just as he was about to put his pen to the paper.

He looked up to see a couple of members of the junior varsity team, walking past, snickering.

It had been awhile since he had been a target of someone’s bullying and wondered where the hell it had com from. The idiots were wearing their letterman jackets allowing Steve to read their names. Carver, McKinney, and a couple of others.

Steve shook his head. Billy was a bad influence on the team, and maybe now the coach would see that. Considering how badly they lost this season with the asshole as team captain.

He looked back up at the retreating backs of the juniors as they laughed and whispered insults about Steve as they made their way out of the library.

He knew all too well how they treat people like them, verses outsiders. And now that Steve had thrown his lot in willingly with the outsiders, the other members of the team were going to be trouble.

Billy could call them off, but Eddie’s status as drug dealer wouldn’t faze that lot. They were the church boys. The sanctimonious assholes who would be straight edgers if they liked the violence, but were too soft to get their hands actually dirty.

He looked down at his drawing and sighed. These assholes didn’t know what pain actually looked liked. Still in their ivory towers, looking down on the masses and turning up their noses.

Steve flicked back to an earlier page of the hero and his little brother walking down the railway tracks and ran his fingers over the two figures. He hadn’t colored it yet, but he knew the trucker hat would be red. For the bond the boys shared.

The bell rang and Steve gathered up his stuff. He shouldered his backpack. Just then there was a tap on his shoulder.

It was the librarian, Mrs. Locke.

“Next time, you’ll be meeting with Mr. Cole and handful of other students to know if you have the credits to graduate,” she said, handing him a paper with the information he would need.

“It’ll be here at the library,” she continued. “But be sure to get here in plenty of time because the tables will fill up fast.”

Steve nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Locke. I’ll try to get here as soon as I can.”

She nodded and let him go. Steve hefted his backpack again and made for the parking lot, a sense of dread pooling in his stomach.

****

Steve sat at the same table as Eddie, Janice and Marty. They all greeted him with quiet murmuring. The whole room vibrated with nervous tension. Mr. Cole was going to tell them their future and fuck if that wasn’t the most terrifying thing in their young lives.

Steve envied them.

For Eddie though, this was his second go round and that fear of failure radiating off the older teen in waves.

Mr. Cole walked into the library and whispered something to the librarian. She nodded curtly and walked back to her desk.

He sat on an empty table and pulled out three stacks of folders. A large stack of about twenty or so, a much smaller stack of about five, and a stack of two.

Eddie gulped and Steve took his hand under the table.

“Thank you all for being here,” Mr. Cole began. He hovered his hand over the first stack. “These are all of you who are graduating without a shadow of a doubt. You have the credits as of now to graduate. Congrats.” His hand moved over to the next pile. “This is those that as long as they pass their classes by May 15th, will graduate. But it is dependent on you passing those classes.” His hand landed on the final two folders.

“These two aren’t passing,” he continued grimly. “Do not pass go, do not collect your diploma. For those two, you have three options. Repeat your senior year. Take your GED that will at least be equal to a high school diploma. Or you flunk out of high school. Walk away from formal education for good.”

Steve stared at the second pile with a growing pit of dread pooling in his stomach.

“I will call each of you by name,” Mr. Cole said, “and will talk to you away from your peers. I’m not here to name and shame and if you really want to know you can wait until graduation.”

There was a little bit of grumbling, but mostly from the assholes no one liked anyway.

“Steve Harrington.”

Steve gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze and got up. He followed Mr. Cole to what the students called the Stacks. They weren’t really stacks of books, but it was a set of tables for study that were surrounded by bookshelves to make it secluded. Guys liked to take their girlfriends back here for a little alone time.

“Hey, Steve,” Mr. Cole greeted. “I was happy to see your grade climb back up after your concussion made them take a nose dive.”

Steve nodded, keeping his fingers crossed behind his back. “I tried as hard as I could.”

“Well it really paid off,” Mr. Cole said. “Because you have more than enough credits to graduate.”

Steve stared at him in shock as his guidance counselor handed him his file. He flipped through it and sure enough, he already had all the credits he needed. In fact, he could have graduated early if it wasn’t for Mrs. Hall.

“Thanks to you,” he breathed.

“They aren’t the best grades,” Mr. Cole admonished. “But they are good enough to get you across that stage.”

Steve nodded and handed the file back to him. He walked back to his table.

One by one all the kids were called and while there were happy kids and wailing tears, it was hard to tell the graduating from those that weren’t.

After everyone had been called and told that they could go home, the four of them sat at the table, waiting for everyone else to file out.

“Valedictorian!” Janice crowed. “I made it, baby!”

“I’m graduating too,” Marty said. “Barely. I just have to make sure I don’t fail Mrs. McDonald’s final and I’m good to go.”

“Eddie?” Steve asked instead of giving his own news. Because his didn’t matter. Not when his boyfriend, the best and brightest person Steve had ever met, (and yes that did include Nancy Wheeler) was curled up on himself, staring at the table.

“No, man,” Marty said, “not again...”

Eddie just nodded. “I was doing the work. I was turning it in. I thought the grades I was getting back were enough, but they weren’t.”

Steve wrapped his arms around him and just let Eddie’s tears soak into the collar of his shirt.

His poor beautiful Eddie. He wished he had done more to make sure he graduated.

But now it was too late.

****

Steve threw Eddie a pool party to make him feel better about not graduating again. Something that Steve really shouldn’t have done if he wanted to avoid the question.

“Come on, Stevie!” Eddie called from the side of the pool. “The water is fine. Stop being the babysitter for two seconds and enjoy your pool, babe.”

The kids still didn’t know they were a couple, but they had gotten used to the endearments that Eddie threw out on a regular basis. They all got nicknames and endearments. Max was Red, Dustin was Dusty, Lucas was Strider and so on. So they didn’t even bat an eyelash at his use of ‘babe’ to describe Steve.

Mike rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Steve never gets in the pool. If he wasn’t on the swim team, I would have had assumed that he can’t.”

Eddie got out of the pool and Steve’s eyes trailed down his torso, following each drop of water as they ran for his waistband. Eddie smirked as he got really close. Steve closed his eyes to block out the dirty thoughts that went off in his head like church bells, loud and deep.

Vaguely behind him he could hear Nancy hissing at Mike, but he couldn’t hear what she said over the rushing in his ears of the blood traveling southward the closer Eddie got. He gulped heavily. Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek tenderly and Steve leaned into the touch. He didn’t care who noticed their casual affection. He was starting to shake like a leaf and not just from the way his boyfriend looked like sex on legs, either.

Quietly as though it was a secret between them Eddie said, “Is this about the comic?”

Steve’s lips quivered as he nodded, his eyes still closed. “They all know except...” he waved vaguely at the Corroded Coffin boys.

“Do you want me to kill Mike?” Eddie asked with a grin.

Steve fought to tamp down on his answering smile, but it broke through anyway. “I think one death is enough.”

He paused with a frown and looked behind Eddie where apparently everyone had gathered. In that brief moment, their silence had made Steve’s answer as loud as if it had been had been a shout.

“Shit, man,” Mike mumbled. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “It’s not a big deal. I still swim. Just not here. And I act as lifeguard for everyone. It’s fine. Honest.”

Nancy chewed on her lip, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist.

Jeff winced. “Yeah, I think we all forgot that Barb vanished from here. Not that we forgot about her,” he added waving his hands at Nancy’s dark glare. “It’s just so easy to forget it impacted more people then you’d think.”

Nancy nodded and let herself be comforted by Jonathan.

Steve pushed Mike into the pool causing a large splash and suddenly the tension was gone. The laughter and fun returned. He breathed a sigh of relief and Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist.

He leaned in close, “You gonna be okay, babe?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I guess it’s good they know,” he said, indicating the Corroded Coffin boys. “So I don’t get freaked out and hurt someone.”

“You’d never,” Eddie soothed.

Steve smiled warmly at Eddie and Jonathan and Nancy shared a knowing smile. He bumped Eddie’s shoulder with his own.

“Where did you learn to swim?” Steve asked turning back to sit sit on his lounge chair.

Eddie grinned. “Wayne taught me the first time we went camping up at Lover’s Lake.”

He sat down in the V of Steve’s legs and lifted one so that it was on his lap.

“How old were you?” Steve asked, basking in the attention Eddie was giving him despite the two of them not being out to Steve’s ducklings.

Eddie hummed for a moment as he thought. “I guess I was about seven or eight. My dad was in jail for the first time and my mom needed the weekend to recoup after an especially long week at work. So Wayne offered to take me camping for the weekend. Back when was he was young, wild and free.”

Steve bumped him with his knee. “Which he doesn’t regret exchanging for you a second.”

Eddie blushed. “No, but with me it meant taking a responsibility he never planned. He could have found someone, settled down, had a family of his own. I could have had nieces or nephews if I hadn’t been dumped on his doorstep.”

Steve sat up and turned Eddie’s chin toward him. “And you would have been lost in the system and hurt far worse then if he hadn’t taken you in.”

Eddie smiled. “You just want Uncle Wayne all to yourself.”

Steve laughed. “You caught me!” He began to tickle Eddie’s sides, causing the other boy to jump and squeal.

“Fiend!” Eddie cried as he scrambled off the lounger to get away. He leapt to his feet and then grabbed the lounger and flipped it.

Steve let out a squawk of surprise and landed on the cement with a thud and a laugh.

Dustin swam over to Gareth, figuring him to be the least scary of Eddie’s friends and whispered. “Are they always like this?”

Gareth scoffed. “No.”

Dustin sighed. “Oh thank go–”

“Sometimes they’re worse,” Gareth bit out, before wading back into deeper waters.

Dustin looked over at the pair of them, cocking his head thoughtfully to the side. There was something more to their friendship, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Then Max splashed him and suddenly the thought was gone.

****

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

As for why it doesn't bother Nancy? That's because it's not her pool. She can go home while the sun is still out. While Steve has to hear the lapping of the water day in and day out. Has to see it in the dead of night, like the night Barb disappeared.

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911

@birbsauce @acingthecounts @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @kultiras

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie was taking off his shirt when Steve and Nancy walked into the RV. They both froze at the sight as he used a wash cloth to wipe himself down.

"Uh, do you want some privacy?" Steve asked.

"Nah. You missed the rest of the show when I had changed my underwear, and I was doing this," Eddie said. "I'm definitely going to need a real shower, though."

"There was a lock on the door that you could have used. The kids could have walked in," Nancy said as she glanced at his pale chest and then looked at his tattoos. "Cool tattoos."

"Thanks, do you guys have any?" Eddie asked with a wicked grin, and Nancy giggled. "What am I saying?. . .Of course, I was very surprised that you had guns in your bedroom, so, who knows? Maybe you do?"

"Well, I don't have one," Nancy grinned and then looked at Steve.

"Steve Harrington has a tattoo! Goddamn!" Eddie laughed as he put on his shirt. "Okay. . .I'm pretty sure that this is where the neckhole was. . . I can't fucking see!"

"That's because you're trying to put your head through the sleeve, man," Steve said. "Calm down."

Steve helped him take off the shirt and then put it on the right way. Steve smoothed down Eddie's hair, smiling softly as the other man blushed. Steve laughed.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Usually, I'm trying to get gorgeous people out of their clothes, not into them," Steve grinned, and Eddie nearly choked on his saliva.

"Okay, somewhere back there when you were driving so radically, I must have hit my head because tattoo having Steve Harrington just called me gorgeous," Eddie said.

"He also implied that he wanted to get you out of your clothes," Nancy laughed.

Eddie blushed and looked away before slipping on the bullet belt Erica got for him. He put his leather jacket on and then the green protective vest. He spread his arms wide, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What do you think? Hot, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, you would hotter with it zipped up," Steve said.

"Well, then my audience wouldn't see my Hellfire shirt," he said.

"Don't be an idiot. Your audience members are a bunch of interdimensional bats," Nancy scoffed. "And you're not advertising Hellfire to them."

"Why not? We could use some mascots," Eddie said.

"Not mascots that ate parts of my flesh, Eddie," Steve scowled.

"Well, it's not their fault. They were hungry, and you were looking appetizing," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"Zip up your jacket, Eddie," Nancy said. "It would be pointless to have the protective gear if you left it unzipped."

"I'll zip it up when the time comes," Eddie scoffed.

"Why do I feel like you're going to forget?" Nancy asked.

"Because he is," Steve said, his hands on his hips.

"Listen, I've seen Dustin cry before, and I am not going to see it again," Nancy snapped.

"Fine."

Eddie sighed and rolled his eyes before zipping up the leather jacket as well as the vest. Nancy smiled and turned to exit the RV. Eddie grinned and unzipped them. She froze at the door.

"Steve, did he just unzip his jackets?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, he fucking did," Steve said.

"Steve. . .pin him to the couch," Nancy said whirling around.

Steve and Nancy moved closer to him while he backed away, his hands up.

"Look, guys, we can talk about this," Eddie said.

"Hm, clearly we can't," Nancy said.

Steve backed him all the back to the couch. He pushed him back onto it and then straddled his waist. Nancy sat next to Eddie's head and pinned his hands to her lap. Steve grabbed his jackets and zipped them both up to his neck.

"Don't you unzip it again, we mean it," Steve said.

Of course, Dustin chose the wrong time to come in.

"What are you going to do to me if I do? Tie me up and spank me?" Eddie asked.

"What are you guys doing to my dungeon master?" Dustin asked.

Nancy and Steve's head snapped up to look at him while Eddie struggled not to laugh.

"It's alright, sweetheart, we're just having some daddies and mummy time. We're wrestling, that's all," Eddie said.

"You know what? I don't need water," Dustin said. "I'll just die of dehydration."

Dustin laughed weakly before leaving the RV.

"Thank God, I didn't have to deal with that childhood trauma," Eddie laughed.

"Eddie, are you going to zip up your fucking jacket or not?" Steve asked.

"Hm, convince me, big boy," Eddie said, and this time, it was Steve who blushed.

"Seriously, stop flirting with Steve and be serious," Nancy said.

"What? I'm not flirting with Steve," Eddie scoffed.

"Yes, you are," Steve said.

"No, I am not," Eddie said.

"Yes, you are."

"I think I would know if I was flirting with a guy!"

"Well, I guess you don't because you were definitely flirting with me!"

"I like women! I might have only had sex with two women, but I like 'em!"

"You can like men and women!"

"You can?"

"Yes! I do!"

"Well, hell of a time to discover that about yourself when you just discovered there's another dimension living under your hometown!" Eddie exclaimed. "Jesus H Christ!"

Steve sat back, his ass now resting on Eddie's crotch. Eddie groaned.

"You really didn't know?" Steve asked.

"Nope!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I thought with the hanky in the back pocket. . ." Steve trailed off.

"Is that code gay people use?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, that explains the time in the record store and that time in the library," Eddie said.

"I guess you never fooled around with any of your guy friends then?" Steve asked.

"Well, no, have you?" Eddie asked.

"Fooled around with your guy friends? No. I have fooled around with a couple of my teammates," Steve said.

"Damn, so I could have figured this out a long time ago if I had just joined a sports game?" Eddie asked.

"You're spending too much time with Mike. It's just sports," Nancy said softly and then paused. "It really is a shitty time to be figuring this all out."

"Tell me about it," he muttered. "So, now what?"

"I don't know, are you going to be a good boy for us and keep it zippered closed?" Nancy asked.

"Hm, I don't know," Eddie grinned.

"Come on, be a good boy and suck it up," Steve said.

"What's in it for me?" Eddie asked.

"Alright, enough of this, break off the zipper," Nancy said.

Steve furrowed his brows as he focused on breaking off the zippers that were at his neck.

"I can't get them off!" Steve exclaimed.

It was at that moment that Max and Lucas chose to enter the RV.

"Okay, Dustin said that something nefarious was going on - ," Max started to say.

"Use your teeth!" Nancy exclaimed, not realizing that they were in here.

Steve bent down, getting really close to his neck as he worked on the zipper.

" - but we didn't believe him," Lucas finished.

"Okay, big boy, go ahead and leave a hickey, let everyone know that I belong to both of you. I am totally and completely your bitch!" Eddie said loudly, having heard Max and Lucas.

"Jesus," Max said. "Is now really the time to have a threesome?"

Steve and Nancy's heads snapped up again.

"I swear this isn't what it looks like," Nancy said.

"So, is this a one-time thing, or are you two planning on dating Eddie?" Max asked.

"Someone can't date two people at the same time. . .can they?" Lucas said

"They can," Steve said, sitting up. "I mean, if all people are aware and comfortable with it. It's just adding another person to the relationship. I now firmly believe that people can love more than one person at a time. The fact that people have more than one child is proof of that and other family members. Although, it might not be for everyone, which is okay as long as you're not trying to stop other people from doing it."

Max pulled Lucas off to the side and started whispering with him. They heard El's name being brought up, and then Max was quickly pushing Lucas out of the RV.

"Okay, I think we may have started something, and we haven't actually started anything!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Okay, how about this? Steve shows you his tattoo, and you keep the jackets zipped up. . .neck and all," Nancy said.

"Okay, does Steve get a say in whether he wants to show Eddie his ass or not?" Steve asked.

"Ooh, it's on his ass? I'll be a good boy!" Eddie exclaimed. "I feel like I would need more than that, though. . .like a date with both of you since the idea has been brought up so many times."

"Well, Nancy's dating Jonathan, so I don't know how he would feel about that," Steve said.

"Well, actually, we broke up, and he's dating someone else," Nancy said as she leaned closer to Steve.

"Really?" Steve grinned as he leaned in closer to Nancy, right over Eddie's head.

"Really."

Just as Nancy was about to brush her lips with Steve’s, the door to the RV opened, and Robin entered.

"Why have the children been telling me not to - oh!" Robin exclaimed.

"Come on, Buckley! They were just about to kiss!" Eddie yelled.

"I think you're a little too invested in their relationship, Munson," Robin said.

"I'm a part of it now, sweetheart," Eddie smirked.

"We haven't agreed to the date yet, Eddie," Nancy smirked.

"You will if you want to save my pretty neck," Eddie said.

"Are you sure you didn't plan all of this?" Nancy asked.

"No, I did not plan on having a sexuality crisis in the middle of the end of the world. I swear," Eddie said. "I'm a one crisis at a time kind-of guy, or I try to be. Life says otherwise."

"Well, I'm just going to grab the kids some water. You do know there's a lock on the door, right?" Robin asked.

"Oh, Nancy knows," Eddie cackled.

Nancy blushed, having forgotten to lock the door. Robin laughed as she grabbed some water and went outside.

"So, date?"

"Yes."

After the world was saved, Eddie's name was cleared, and Vecna was an extra crispy dead bitch, Eddie found himself lying in a hospital bed extremely grateful to his new partners that they were so determined to help him out. He was pretty sure that he would have been worse off or dead without them.

"Well, it helps that you mean so much to Dustin and the other kids," Nancy said. "They all mean so much to us."

"Well, somehow, they manage to make it both easy and hard to care about them. They're a conundrum," Eddie said.

"We couldn't let you die over something so stupid. You mean a lot to us too, now," Steve said.

"Yeah, well. . .," Eddie said, blushing as they took his hands.

"And you risked your life to help us too," Nancy said.

"At what cost, though? I had to see Dustin cry over me, and I never want to see that shit again. It broke my fucking heart," Eddie said.

"Yeah, I remember him crying at the Snowball a couple of years ago because the girls. . .well, they were assholes. It was a shame, too, because he looked so cute with his bow tie and his hair. He did it just like Steve’s," Nancy gushed.

"And Nancy here stood up and asked him for a dance, knowing that the girls would get jealous once they saw him dancing with an older woman," Steve said. "And they rubbed it in their faces."

"So, mama, daddy, you got any pictures of our kid at the Snowball?" Eddie asked with a teasin grin.

"Not on me," they said, not realizing that Eddie was messing with them.

He laughed as he listened to them talk about the kids. Nancy went on about Mike, then about Max as if they were siblings. Steve went on to talk about Lucas, proud that he still wanted to stick with basketball and Hellfire. They were proud of all of them, and Eddie knew that the kids wouldn't have gotten through any of it without the older teenagers of the party having their back. Nor would they be alive if Joyce and Hopper hadn't done what they had needed to do on many occasions. Somehow, this crazy, complicated family made it work, and somehow, they always managed to find a way back to each other.

[stardustloki]

Water Fight!

Lyana invites the Batch to take part in a water fight on Pabu. Used to combat sims on Kamino, they take this a little too seriously. Thankfully, their new family are around to correct their misunderstanding.

Tags: Gen, No warnings apply, Hunter-centric, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, Hunter thinks he's meant to be training Lyana in combat and as a good uncle he takes this Seriously

Read it on ao3 here.

Or below the cut...

-

The hot sun beat down on Hunter’s unarmoured body as he crouched behind a low wall, gripping the brittle blaster tight in his sweating hands, listening intently for any of their pursuers. Lyana crouched beside him, eyes wide, clutching her own blaster close to her body and breathing heavily.

“Did we lose them?”

Her whisper was quiet, but there was a chance it wouldn’t be quiet enough. Some enemies would have scanners trained to pick up on the frequencies of human voices. As Hunter shrugged in response, he made an internal note to teach her battle sign.

She nodded in response, jaw set, eyes serious.

They’d started off together, he, Lyana, Omega, Crosshair and Wrecker, before an ambush had forced them to separate. He cursed himself for not paying better attention, for assuming that the villagers had just been going about their everyday business, sipping cool drinks on their shaded verandas. Oh how wrong he had been.

Now, they were out in the open, cut off from the others, with no idea of the true number of hostiles they were facing.

“Do you remember how to get to the rendezvous point?” Hunter asked lowly. Lyana nodded. “Good. I want you to follow my lead, but remember, if we get attacked and I go down you do not stop for me. You get to the RV. Make sure to use as much cover as you can and try not to run in a straight line, the more obvious your movements are the easier they’ll find it to get a lock on you.”

“Yes, sir.” Lyana gave him a salute so poorly executed that his breath almost hitched. It was a good thing she hadn’t been raised on Kamino, but still, he should probably teach her how to salute properly in any case, it might be a useful skill.

Hunter nodded, satisfied at her words at least, and gestured for her to stay behind him. He didn’t think there were any hostiles nearby, but they were about to break cover and they needed to be careful.

At least, he consoled himself, if Lyana did get hit, the bursts of water wouldn’t hurt in the same way training rounds did.

He had to admit that he’d been surprised when, an hour earlier, Lyana had shown up at their house, informing them that the outside temperature meant that today they’d be having a water fight. Of course, he’d been thinking Lyana should probably be combat trained at some point - there was no guarantee that the Empire wouldn’t show up again, or that her Aunt Phee wouldn’t be followed home by some people she’d pissed off as part of her work - and had started to discuss the possibility with Shep. What he hadn’t been expecting was Lyana to take the decision into her own hands. Still, it was a promising step, and the Bad Batch had wasted no time in figuring out the training weapons and devising a strategy, making sure to explain everything to Lyana and make sure she could fire with… okay it was pretty terrible accuracy and that was something they would desperately need to work on. But there was a one in ten chance she’d hit her target if it was stationary.

Omega had been particularly excited about all this, grinning wildly and bouncing on the balls of her feet, talking to her friend a-mile-a-minute about how happy this made her.

By the time the combat had started, they’d been ready. What they hadn’t counted on, was how numerous their enemies would be.

Hunter and Lyana made their way carefully between the houses, sticking to shady alleyways as much as possible. He made sure to keep his eyes flickering up to rooftops or upper windows - he knew well from Crosshair that people didn’t often expect an attack to come from above. He wouldn’t let this be their downfall.

Thankfully, they made their way to the small plaza without incident. On their way to this rendezvous point, they had been spotted by some locals, who’d grinned at them and gave them a cheery wave - Lyana giving one of her equally cheerful but awful salutes back. Hunter just hoped that they wouldn’t give away details of their movements to the other side.

In the street across from them, Omega snuck into view, pressed into the shadows. Wrecker followed behind her, slightly less well hidden. They both gave Hunter a salute, which he returned. Now they just needed to wait for Crosshair, provided he hadn’t already been taken out.

In the centre of the shaded plaza, a large fountain bubbled. It would be an excellent place to resupply their ammo, but moving to the centre of the plaza would render them more exposed to enemy fire.

With his focus half on the fountain, it took Hunter longer than he should have to realise that the movement behind Wrecker wasn’t Crosshair joining them. Fortunately, Wrecker seemed to notice the extra person at the same time as Hunter did, and threw himself on top of Omega, sending them both tumbling to the ground at the same time as a blast of water went right through where they had been a second earlier. Their assailant didn’t get another chance to fire however, because they were hit by a strong blast of water to the head from above. Hunter grinned. Crosshair.

“Hey, not fair!” Wrecker’s voice rang out across the street and Hunter cursed. Staying hidden and winning this fight was gonna be a lot harder if his brother acted as a homing beacon for the hostiles. Still, they’d survived much worse. They wouldn’t fail this exercise. “I shot you earlier! You can’t get up and keep attacking us.”

“Sure I can,” Phee replied, wiping water out of her eyes. “That’s how water-blaster fights work.”

Even as he gestured for Lyana to stay hidden behind him, Hunter could see Wrecker and Omega shooting each other looks of confusion as they scrambled up off the floor.

“Then how can you tell who wins?” Omega asked, frowning. He noted with a burst of pride that her blaster was still trained on Phee.

“It’s not about winning,” Shep replied, emerging to stand in the sun next to Phee. “It’s about cooling down during a hot day, getting yourself and the other team as drenched as possible.”

Hunter was pretty sure Omega and Wrecker’s dubious looks matched his own.

“Look,” Phee said. “If y’all would be happier treating this like another battle, I ain’t stopping you. But, in my opinion, this way’s more fun.”

It was at that moment, Lyana sprang up towards her father, yelling and firing her water-blaster at him. Too late to grab her, all Hunter could do was provide extra fire at Shep, while Crosshair automatically did the same to Phee. Hopefully, their covering fire would allow Lyana to make her escape without getting hit.

All too soon, they were all out of ammo.

Spluttering, Shep dropped his blaster and wiped water from his eyes, but instead of giving in, he grinned and scooped Lyana up into his arms, before spinning her round and dumping her into the fountain. He laughed uproariously as she emerged, completely drenched, yelling incoherently at her dad, splashing waves at him from where she sat in the pool of water. 

When she turned towards Hunter, he could see she was grinning too.

Oh. Okay. If the rules didn’t really matter then.

Hunter broke cover and raced towards Omega, sweeping her up before she knew what was happening, and dropping her into the fountain beside her friend.

“Hey!” she shouted, but in the second between her yell and Wrecker barrelling into him with a cry of “Traitor!”, he could tell she wasn’t really mad at him. He didn’t bother bracing himself, and instead let Wrecker push him into the pool of water beside them, laughing as he surfaced, pulling back his wet hair from where it stuck to his face.

All too soon, Omega and Lyana were on him, scooping water up and throwing it at him, cursing his betrayal. It was all Hunter could do but howl with laughter as Omega tried to duck his head under the water and he succeeded in doing the same to her.

Of course, there would come a time where Lyana did need to learn how to defend herself, but, for now, in his happiness, Hunter couldn’t find himself much caring.

For now, life was good.

[seriesxwriting]

Lost time

W Negan!

Series- the walking dead

Warnings- murder (use of guns), swearing, kissing , mentions of blood/death. Negan stuff basically.

Summary- your Negan’s wife from before the world went to shit. You finally find each other after years of thinking the other was dead.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Rick trembling on my knees surrounded by the saviours. “I don’t…” rick was cut off my the sound of whistling. The door of the RV opened in front of us after Simon tapped on it. A tall man dressed in a tight leather jacket and skin tight trousers stepped out into the darkness. He had a baseball bat over his shoulder as he walked forward towards us in a line.

“This looks fun, you lot look scared as shit- anyone pissed themselves yet?” He laughed out loud, but I knew that voice. I’d never forget that voice.

“My name is-

“-Negan?” I gasped covering my mouth with my hand as a tear fell down my face and I dropped off my knees onto the backs of my legs. “Y/n?” His forehead wrinkled as he froze in his place. “Shit- I was here to make an entrance” “wh- what’s happening here?” I winced practically shaking in my spot with more tears falling now.

“Get her into the RV” he ordered to Simon ignoring my question. “She doesn’t need to see what happens to the rest of them” negan looked back down the line. I instantly felt rough hands grabbing at me pulling me upwards. “BE CAREFUL” neagan shouted storming over and pushing Simon off me. He stumbled backwards looking confused and definitely embarrassed.

Neagan wrapped an arm around my lower back guiding me to the RV “what are you doing neagan what are you doing” I shook my head grabbing his hand not letting him go. “just get in the RV y/n you don’t need to see this” his hand brushed my hair off my wet face. He smiled at me exhaling as his hand then wiped the tears away. “see what?” I asked following his sentence instantly taking the hand on my face in mine.

“If you don’t wait in there I will get Simon to shoot one of them now- I’m trying to protect you” negan frowned sounding ice cold getting defensive now. “Please just talk to me first- please” I begged him with my eyes.

“If I still mean anything to you- please” “I have people waiting on me y/n I can’t just drop everything because you want to catch up” he hissed after taking a look around the scene. All his men and my people were watching us now. “You can” i nodded looking into his eyes squeezing his hand gently.

“Fine” negan nodded at the RV door after a few seconds. “watch them, keep them in line! I’ll be five minutes” he pointed at my group before shutting us in the RV. I looked at him for a second and he looked at me before I collapsed into a hug holding his neck never wanting to part again. “I can’t believe your Alive” I whispered softly.

Slowly his arms wrapped around me and his hand held my head into his chest “I thought you were gone” he exhaled giving in to the weak emotion of love. “I can’t believe I found you” negan lowered his head kissing the top of my head. “Yeah but like this?” I pulled away from the hug looking at him still.

“Are you gonna kill them? Do your men want to kill me?” “No one’s touching you” neagan’s jaw locked in anger with the thought of that happening. “But don’t ask me not to kill them- did you see what they done to my out post? To my men?” Negan half laughed.

“You mean- What I did?” I bit my lip making my eyes wonder, his hand came up to his face and he closed his eyes letting out a deep sigh. “You helped kill my men?” “Well I didn’t know they were your men! But what your doing at the hilltop- that’s wrong” “wrong? Have you seen this world recently?” He let out a small laugh looking straight back at me.

“There still human- we’re all human! we’re breathing we’re alive” “so what you did at the outpost? That was right huh” “no” I shook my head sadly looking at our feet.

“What do you want from me y/n- right now what are you trying to get” “you- I just want you” I answered him softly and honestly, a small smile grew on his face. “Then come back with me to the sanctuary, we can have a life again- forget about them” negan tried to convince me stepping so our body’s were touching. “You know me, better than anyone, I can’t just forget about them I won’t” I shook my head vigorously. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for everyone out there- they’ve all helped save my life multiple times I owe them my life negan”

Negan sighed rubbing his temple before holding my waist with a hand. “y/n I know what your getting at but I can’t just-.” “Do you remember that time a few years ago, we were at a party and some dude tried to grope me when you were in the bathroom?” I asked him desperately. “Mmh” negan hummed remembering back. “And that random man saved me from- from being prey to that dirt bag” “don’t” negan shook his head closing his eyes. “Do you remember what you said to that man who saved me negan?”

He exhaled before looking at me in the eyes again. “Anyone who protects my girl has my respect for life” he whispered making me smile as another tear fell down my face. “But the world has changed” “but where we stand hasn’t- I still love you negan- unless where you stand isn’t with me…” “I love you y/n- that’s never changed” he whispered wiping my tear away with his thumb. “Just make peace with us- be with me but this is the only way, what do you want more” I questioned.

Negan pulled away picking his bat up and examining it. “I named her after you- she’s all I had left of you” he told me quietly. I didn’t know what he was going to say I was so scared. Out of nowhere he tossed the bat behind him, it fell with a clatter. “I want you” he stepped back toward me guiding my face into his. Kissing me again after all this time, all these years, It felt so right. We were back together finally. He held me close to his body clutching my waist as I held his face.

“Promise me peace” I whispered against him. “I promise you peace” he told me kissing me again.

In that magical moment we heard gunfire from outside. We turned to look at the door before hearing another one. I ran to swing the door open while negan grabbed his bat. I stepped outside to floods of tears and death. “What happened!” Neagan boomed seeing Glenn and Abraham dead on the floor.

“They tried attacking me” one of the men shrugged with out a care still holding his gun up. “NO” negan shouted. “NO NO NO NO” he carried on before smashing his bat into the floor.

My eyes watered seeing two dead bodies and Maggie whaling for her husband in her weak state. Negan held his gun out and squeezed with out hesitation shooting the murder in the head. “Let that be a lesson- You wait for my orders!” Negan shouted at his men. “I said watch them- NOT SHOOT THEM”.

“It’s done” I cried looking at my husband. “We killed your outpost, you killed two of us- it’s over, there’s peace now right?” I sobbed as he looked at me sympathetically, his eyes soft. Negan came over to me hugging me tight holding my head. “There’s peace” he whispered kissing the top of my head.

“Your letting us go?” Rick frowned filled with confusion. “You have y/n to thank for your worthless lives” negan confessed giving Rick a dirty look and keeping me evidently close to him. “You go back to Alexandria, all of you- but if I find you’ve touched even one of my men” “you’ll what?” I asked looked up at him. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that” he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Clear out” negan yelled at his men. On command they all got into vehicles and drove away leaving negan with me and the rest of my group.

“Maggie” I whispered ran up to her as she crawled over to Glenn. “Thank you” she looked up at me with sparkling eyes from her tears. “Are you coming back with us?” Rick asked me looking at negan who was looking at me. “I’ll be back- but I need to catch up with my husband” I nodded with a little smile. I hadn’t used that word in so long.

Carl out of nowhere came to hug me “please be back” he whispered squeezing me. “I’ll be back” I ruffled his hair underneath his hat. Rick came over to hug me. “Nuh uh” negan coughed from where he was standing.

I turned around to look at him shaking his head. “Seriously?” Rick asked raising an eyebrow. “I don’t like how you look at her rick” negan frowned clutching his bat. “Or me” he continued. “I’ll see you soon” I whispered patting him on the arm before walking back over to negan.

His arm slid round my waist as he led me to his car leaving the RV for my group. “I didn’t mean for that to happen” he told me after a moment of silence “I know” I whispered sadly.

He opening the car door for me. “You haven’t changed that much, your still a gentleman” “for you and only you” he kissed my hand smirking. And with that Negan drove me back to sanctuary, so we could catch up on lost time.

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] 6th Anniversary Event: “Love is on the way” – (Li Zeyan’s Prologue)

⌚ since global server won’t be getting this event anyway, I’m not going to add spoiler warning~ ⌚ ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

[notes from Anika before we begin]: after the last day of the anni event, i was crying so hard that it felt like a sin to not bring it over haha. however, i don’t exactly have much time to spare despite the off days from uni, so this might take a while but i’ll try to update regularly and phase by phase~ (*´▽`*)♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Event Common Prologue】 

The Loveland city hall and tourism bureau have arranged a “Love is on the way” event to celebrate the city being acknowledged as the best city for romantic experiences. 

MC wins an “RV Travel Gift Package” in the lottery event held by the city hall as a part of the program ~  

────────── 

【Event Extended Prologue – Li Zeyan】 

LZY: Why the frown when you’ve just hit the jackpot?

MC: You’re here just in time! Come and help me decide on a new travel plan.

As I agonize over the itinerary for the RV trip, I see Li Zeyan walking in and hurriedly wave at him to come over.

He takes the route map, gives it a brief glance, and then points to a path that starts from Tongyun Ancient town.

LZY: This one looks like it has the most potential for fun.

MC: My thoughts exactly, but the distance is quite far. It’d be quite a long drive…

LZY: This isn’t our first time going on a road trip like this.

LZY: Plus, the fuel coupons I won are enough to cover us for this entire long-distance trip.

At this unexpected answer, I can’t help but burst into laughter.

MC: Hahaha, what!? You know that’s clearly not what I’m worried about!

LZY: [laughs softly]  Dummy, I know.

Contemplating the potential challenges that’d arise in managing his time around, I gently shake his hand.

MC: Taking this route will also add a few extra days to the travel duration we initially planned. I have some vacation days, but will you be able to adjust your schedule?

LZY: Absolutely.

Hearing him respond without the slightest hesitation, I look up at him in elation.

LZY: Every year around this time, when have I ever not freed up my time?

─────

Lounging on the sofa, I cushion my head comfortably on Li Zeyan’s leg, my eyes glued to the short video playing on the phone––

The scene shows couples, family members, or friends lifting their right fists and solemnly pledging adorable vows like “to never be a wet blanket” before setting off on their travels.

Just picturing the scene of Li Zeyan raising his hand to take a vow for tomorrow’s trip involuntarily causes the corners of my lips to hook upwards.

LZY & MC: [simultaneously] During this trip––

Our simultaneously resounding voices catch me off guard for a moment, and then I lock eyes with him.

LZY: Found something fun again?

MC: A super awesome travel hack we’ve never tried before!

LZY: Seeing how you used such a long preamble, it doesn’t sound like something good.

MC: You’re being biased! Who knows, what you wanted to say might not even be as cool as my hack.

LZY: Very true. After all, I only did some pre-travel preparation, and that’s all.

With a subtle smile playing in his eyes, Li Zeyan hands me the tablet he is holding.

My eyes can’t help but widen in astonishment as I look at the minimalistic yet inclusive travel guide that covers everything from destinations to transportation routes and activity arrangements.

The itinerary includes almost every place I wish to check off, along with numerous delightful surprises.

MC: Where did you find this rice wine ice cream? It looks really yummy~

LZY: …you’re the one who found this.

In my bewildered gaze, he digs up our chat history from two days ago and opens a check-in post titled, “I’ll be heartbroken for anyone who hasn’t tried the rice wine ice cream, okay?”

MC: I have no recollection of it at all…

LZY: It’s normal to not have any recollection. Since you started planning, you’ve sent me 63 check-in posts in just two days.

MC: It’s because there are just too many fun things.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I stick my tongue out at him, but soon, my eyes are drawn to the many empty time slots in the itinerary.

MC: CEO Li, are these time slots designated for spontaneous activities?

LZY: Yup, just in case a certain someone has spontaneous whimsy to add more activities halfway through the trip.

Looking at his perfectly strategized itinerary, I suddenly feel a little guilty about the “travel hack” I’ve just boasted about.

LZY: Tell me, what’s your travel hack?

Looking away from his eyes filled with interest, I try hard to compose myself. Then, I raise my chin with a false bravado.

MC: Your strategy is amazing, and it just so happens that my hack can make it even more perfect!

He noncommittally arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

MC: Recently, there’s a trending travel vow making waves on the internet…

LZY: …sure enough, it’s a childish game.

MC: No, it’s not! Only the people who are closest to each other can take this vow together!

Seeing my eager expression, he sighs in compromise.

LZY: How do we take the vow?

Not giving him a chance to regret it, I promptly raise my right hand to the side of my forehead and gesture for him to follow suit.

Li Zeyan remains silent for a moment, but eventually, he still closes his right hand into a fist and raises it awkwardly.

LZY: It’s silly.

MC: We’re being silly together~

My eyes crinkle into a smile, and I hand him the vow from my phone.

MC: I solemnly vow, during our anniversary trip, to never cry out because of being tired, to never stay cooped up all day lying in bed, to never get upset over taking ugly photos.

LZY: With mutual tolerance and accommodation, we will complete all the planned activities.

MC: Should anyone violate––

Realizing that his voice has suddenly ceased to be heard, I look to my side with confusion, only to find him staring at the vow with a crease between his brows.

LZY: “An irreconcilable conflict will be declared between the two parties”?

MC: The vow can be effective only when the punishment is severe enough~ Looks like a certain someone is scared now.

Brushing off my immensely complacent expression, he regards me with a contemplative look.

LZY: [he’s amused af LOL] Before proceeding, let’s clarify what “irreconcilable conflict” actually means for our situation.

LZY: Do you intend to return all of Huarui’s (LFG) investment?

MC: [confused] …Eh?

LZY: Also, which one of us will Pudding reside with?

MC: [even more confused] …Pudding?

LZY: And, moving forward, the entrance to Souvenir…

MC: W-W-W-WAIT!

I finally catch on and promptly extend my hand to cover his mouth in an attempt to prevent more dangerous and dreadful words from escaping.

MC: How can such icy words come out of your 37-degree Celsius mouth!

–

[T/N]: In case the joke escapes anyone, 37°C = 98.6°F, which is the normal body temperature – quite close to the boiling temperature and a far cry from the freezing point, so “technically,” he shouldn’t be able to say such “icy/ chilling” words 😂

–

LZY: [laughs softly]  Just wanted to confirm whether a certain someone who is beside herself with joy actually has any practical plans.

LZY: But I think someone else is feeling scared at the moment.

The slightly curved corners of his lips leave a tingling sensation in my palm, giving away a hint of teasing.

Realizing that he is deliberately messing with me, I can’t help but feel indignant.

MC: I’m not scared at all; increasing the challenge a bit more is perfectly fine with me.

LZY: As long as you don’t regret it.

Faced with his amused gaze, I clench my teeth and lay out the rules.

MC: How about counting by the number of times someone fails to keep their vows? Each violation results in a deduction of one point, and the person with the lower score shoulders all the consequences.

LZY: To avoid any attempts to dodge responsibility, let the other person have the authority for judgment.

MC: What if we end up with a tie?

LZY: What would you want to do?

MC: I most certainly don’t want to split up with you!

Upon hearing my immediate, unfiltered answer, he lets out a muffled chuckle.

LZY: In that case, after the game begins, make sure to uphold this attitude of yours.

────────── 

🚐 • First Location: To be updated

────────────────────────────────────── 

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi: 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 (5)

In which he feels like this could be all he's ever wanted after all.

Tags/Warnings: Vampire!Yoongi, Human!Reader, mentions of 'being high' (drug usage in a way), friends to lovers, blood (duh), red haired Yoongi, Listen I am Jungkook focused but I will put Vampire Yoongi on the menu and you'll better finish your plate

Additional Chapter Warnings: cuddly Yoongi??? Part 2, we're moving guys buckle your seat belts

Chapter Length: short/mid

A/N: Surprise bitch

<- Previous | Next ->

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He chuckles simply watching you hurry as you crawl underneath the blankets, dramatically sighing when you're finally bundled up underneath them.

"Can you turn off the heat?" You ask from your spot on the bed up in the designated spot inside the RV.

"Aren't you cold?" He wonders up at you, though he does turn it off before he checks if the door is locked.

"Yeah but I also don't sleep well when it's too warm.." you mumble sleepily, yawning as he slowly makes his way up and into bed as well, making sure to adjust the blankets around your side before he slips under as well. "Yoongi?" You ask, and he nods, hums a reply.

He really can't get tired of you saying his name.

You always say it so.. careful. Careful not in the way of being fearful or hesitant- but more like it's something important. Like he's something important to you.

"Is it okay if I hug you tonight?" You wonder quietly, and he chuckles.

"I thought we already talked about cuddling?" He tells you, reminds you of your earlier moment together, watching the fire outside while holding each other. But you're worried. What if he still misunderstood what you were trying to tell him simply because you're not able to properly put it into words?

"But that was then.. I mean, now." You explain yourself, and he nods.

"Are you gonna ask for permission every time you're gonna want to cuddle?" He wonders, and you look at him sheepishly.

"Maybe? I don't know. What if you don't want to cuddle?" You ask, and he shrugs, watching you in the darkness of the RV.

"Then I'll tell you." He says. "I promise I'll always be honest. There will be times when we just don't want to be around each other, and that doesn't need a reason. It'll still be fine, I'll still love you no less than now." He explains honestly, and you nod.

He's talking about love.

One thing you always appreciated about Yoongi was his blunt honesty. He never sugar-coated things to make them seem like something else. He always made sure to be upfront and clear with you. It helped you tremendously and subsequently also led to you valuing his thoughts and opinions more than anyone else's. Yoongi always says it how it is, and for him to talk about love- well, it's a big deal.

"Yoongi..?" You ask after a moment again- and he thinks you're gonna ask to cuddle again, so he chuckles and puts his phone away, turns off the last light and moves closer to you to hold you against his chest. "Pssst, yoong-"

"I am literally cuddling you right now-" he laughs.

"-did you mean it?" You ask, and he stops at that.

"Mean what?" He wonders quietly, unsure what you actually mean.

"You said you 'won't love me less than you love me now'. You know." You mumble against his chest.

"Hmhm." He nods, closing his eyes. "Now sleep."

"Can you say it?" You ask, and he groans lowly, squeezing you closer stubbornly.

"No, sleep, I'm tired." He denies, and you whine.

"But Yoongi-!" You whine his name against him.

"Sleep, why do I have to say it? You know it already, now hush you big baby!" He scolds, glad the lights are all off so you can't see how red he's probably in the face from shyness.

"...well I love you." You huff, settling with your legs around his, and it grows quiet at that, except for the soft sounds of nature outside the Van you're sleeping in.

And yoongis soft, whispered 'love you too' that he grants you.

...

"I heard that-"

"Shut up and sleep."

[tragantia]

Well, it's getting close to that time of the month again, and as a cyclical lunar creature I must complete what was started. Again, Severen is his own warning. My horniness is its own warning too. Not even pretending there is a plot anymore, I'm done, burn me 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Severen during your period - Part 2

- After realising that you were just having your period, Severen made you pull your underwear down and didn't waste a second, licking you up thoroughly until you were forced to tear him away from you. It was getting late, and you had promised Jesse and the others to be back with plenty of time before sunrise. He gave you a predatory grin meanwhile he licked his lips, still wet with your fluids and a bit of blood, but didn't complain.

- On the way back, he was constantly groping your ass and tits, making comments about how good you tasted and how you looked: 'Thought ya looked a bit perkier than usual. Very sexy, baby' and that silly cackle of his, meanwhile he pulled you closer to get handsy again, going as far as putting his hands under your clothes in order to cup a feel.

- Once you're back to the RV, it's obvious to everyone that you smell of blood. Of that kind of blood.

- As the rest of the clan is getting a bit uncomfortable with your smell, Jesse decides it's time to stop in a motel so you can have a few days for yourself meanwhile that goes away.

- During the trip in the car, if you and Severen are sat together at the back, he discreetly puts his hand underneath your skirt or jeans, and sticks his fingers inside your pussy. He wants to finger you really badly, but the smell would be too obvious, so he contents himself with rubbing a bit, sticking a couple of fingers inside, and silently pulling them away to lick the blood.

- Let's just say his leather trousers were uncomfortably tight.

- Of course, this whole situation leads to you and Severen getting a separate room for yourselves. It makes sense, you think. You must smell like a four course meal to them, after all. They wouldn' be able to sleep with that smell so close to them, it was a constant temptation. And Severen, being a gentleman, won't leave you alone during such a weak time for you – he must protect you, he says. You never know who may try what around these parts, if they see a pretty young thing like you on their own.

- Severen is actually really sweet and makes sure to stop in a petrol station to get you some food, some hygiene products, painkillers, and a couple of other things he doesn't tell you about...

- He loves it when you're thankful, you kiss him, and tell him what a good boyfriend he is. He basks in your attention, and gets as many kisses as possible – as he discreetly rubs you through your underwear some more.

- When you get inside the motel room, the real treat begins. He locks the door and throws the bag where he carries your stuff and his to the side, cornering you until he easily pushes you to bed, climbing on top of you.

- He tears off his leather jacket and flannel, and unzips his leather trousers to let his cock out.

- He tears off your clothes and underwear, his eyes not leaving your body, and gives his cock a few strokes before he kneels and gets to work again, with that cocky grin still on his face, as his eyes look directly into yours.

- 'Severen, no, don't... I haven't showered for days now, don't-' You are silenced mid sentence as his tongue begins to tease you, this time without mercy, licking, lapping and sucking as hard and greedily as he can.

- He pays a lot of attention to your clit as usual, but he also thoroughly licks inside your folds, basically fucking you with his tongue.

- He makes you position yourself in all fours and licks you from behind, his face buried between your ass cheeks, his tongue fucking your pussy mercilessly and collecting all your fluids and blood.

- You can hear him grunting and moaning as he licks you up, slurping greedily every single time that you cum.

- After he's made you cum more times than you can count, you ask him to stop, so he reluctantly leaves your pussy alone for a bit and lies down next to you.

- You're just too tired, and in some pain, suffering from cramps. Hooo boy if you belong to the endometriosis club like me, get ready for some tender rubs, kisses, and affirmations from him. He's an idiot and a bully, but he does have a heart, and hates to see his little darlin' in pain. If anything, being reminded of your mortality determines him to turn you even more.

- 'Well, you know what's good for this kinda pain, darlin'? Orgasms', he says, grinning, like he has some empirical knowledge in female psyche. In truth, this is something that prostitutes taught him back in the day, but he's not gonna go and ruin the moment now - he will make you jealous at another time, now he's got you exactly where he wants you.

- He sucks on your tits for what feels like hours, commenting on how full and heavy they feel, as he jerks himself off meanwhile he plays with them and looks at you, his eyes full of lust in a way you had never seen before.

- He would love it if you let him finish on your tits, particularly if you can give him a titjob. He is a very perverted, visual man, and the image of your chest covered in his cum is enough to rile him up again.

- If he cums on your tits, he would lick it up and kiss you, so you can taste him on his lips.

- Will also say something disgusting about milk or buttercream as he does this, because – it's Severen.

- And then, he would give you that cocky grin of his again. 'Time for some cherry pie, darlin'' as you see him disappearing between your legs.

- He would probably 69 you at this point. Licking up your menstrual blood is making him incredibly horny, he gets hard again almost immediately after cumming, and wants you to choke on his dick as he licks you up.

- He's a lot more unrestrained at this point, he will finger you meanwhile he licks your pussy, his tongue going incessantly from left to right, as he fucks himself into your mouth. Even better if you drool, cry, and make choking sounds, he loves it all.

- As has already been said in other headcanons, I also do believe that Severen has a corruption kink. The idea of having you as his own little whore to use as he pleases turns him on so much. He may tell you that he's gonna keep you like this so he can tie you up every month during your period and have his own personal sex doll. He knows it's not something he can actually do, but sometimes he wishes he could...

- He loves to see you completely covered in blood, and the fact that it's your own blood, and your menstrual blood at that... Have some pity, you basically smell of blood and pheromones and sweat, your smell is completely intoxicating to him.

- If after a while you are genuinely exhausted, or in pain, he actually stops and helps you bathe or shower – using every opportunity to touch you or lick you up again... But he's a lot more gentle now.

- 'Ya don' get it, baby. It jus' smells so fuckin' good', before sticking his face between your legs again... 'Mmmh. Finger lickin' good'

- He will hear no nonsense about your looks. If you say you feel bloated, or ugly, or whatever... You will have a very intense vampire boyfriend willing to show you just how horny you make him.

- Expect some sweet moments if you get the sads. He will caress your face, looking into your eyes, and tell you such sweet compliments you would find it difficult to believe that they come from him. Kissing you all over your face and lips, rubbing your noses together and telling you how pretty you are.

- Another favourite of his would be to fuck you, then pull out, then fuck your mouth so you can taste your own blood, then go back to fuck you meanwhile he kisses you and licks up your face and lips, now stained with menstrual blood. If you don't like this – I'm sorry, he's not gonna listen this time, he may even slap you a bit if you moan too much, he loves to see you absolutely fithy and degraded like that. But, he knows it turns you on when he is dominant like that, he will never go too hard.

- He's also bought lubricant and things that he can use as toys so he can fuck your ass meanwhile he plays with your pussy. It would probably be extremely difficult to find a vibrator in a random petrol station during the 80s but let's imaaaagine you have one because... I say so. He would loose you up until you can take him inside your ass, then make you sit against his back, and start teasing your pussy with the vibrator as he slowly fucks you, loving to see his thighs covered in your blood as you get excited.

- If there is a mirror in the bedroom, the action is moving to where the mirror is.

- Again, he's very visual, so the image of his dick disappearing inside your ass, your legs spread open for him, your pussy in full display, and blood coming out of it, staining your legs and his, the floor, or wherever you are... It just drives him insane. He'll fuck you ten times harder.

- Basically, it's an extra intense week. You will be having more sex in one day than you've ever had since meeting him, and that's saying a lot.

- Good luck trying to sleep with him during shark week, he knows he'll have to turn you into one of them soon and it may never happen again, so he's gonna make sure that he takes full advantage of it.

- When you do manage to sleep some, he's gonna spoon you, his arms wrapped around your tummy, his hands on top of where your womb is. Treasure sweet little moments and details like this, it's his way of showing you he cares, without telling you.

- Also, by the time you leave the motel room, if will look like someone has been murdered inside. He will make crude jokes about this too: 'Shit, hope they don't send us the drycleaning bill', 'May as well kill someone inside anyway - what's gonna be the difference?' and 'Fancy pickin' up that gal we saw earlier for a little foreplay? Could of done with a take out meal', he says, in a suggestive tone, with that stupid cackle of his again. Unfortunately, as much as he loves you, he also loves to make you jealous, particularly after such an intense week.

- He's never been able to keep someone like this before, so despite all his crude jokes, his overwhelming sexuality and his attempts at making you jealous... He feels extremely attached to you at this point, both in an emotional and in a sexual way. He will always think back to this week as a kinda honeymoon of sorts before he turned you.

[riderwrites]

questions

Six pages of post-episode Unruhe where Scully tells everyone she's fine and thinks of some questions that no one ever asks her about her experience, that she would want them to anyway.

not rated/ 3,862 words/ expert below, read full on ao3

Scully’s wrists still burned where they had been bound. It had been duct tape this time, something new this time, and the sticky residue was still on her skin. She picked at it as she watched EMS workers and local FBI agents flutter around like a flock of disturbed birds. She should feel shaken, like the first time, when her hands were shackled to a radiator, but if anything, she felt a disturbing amount of normality. Her breathing was heavy, and she felt her shoulders shaking but she knew these things were happening, and that in of itself was a comfort. She was able to respond to the questions asked by EMS and other agents with a steady voice, afterall, she knew them so well.

What day is it? Your name? What about his? Can you look to the left for me? Look to the right now. Good, any pain? You were outside your rental car when he injected you with the chemicals, correct? Do you remember any of the ride to where you were found or were you unconscious? Did he mention anything of his other victims to you? Could you lead me step by step of what happened? Any accomplices? We want to prevent copycats. Do you still feel groggy from the drug? Any other aftereffects you feel?

Yes, he was underneath the car, I didn’t see him. It is the third of February. My full name is Dana Katherine Scully. The man who looks as if he swallowed a frog is Agent Fox Mulder. I woke up in the RV. Yes, I’m sure, I can’t recall anything else. He didn’t mention anything else to me beyond what I have already told you. He talked about the Howlers, he insisted his father was good, he never gave me any details on his sister’s suicide. Yes, I asked him. I already told you that.

With the soft sound of their notebooks closing, the conversation was over and already being replaced with their later than usual lunch. Scully looked back down at her hands, at the red marks the tape left. He must have taken off part of the epidermis. She lightly ran her finger over it as she tried to force herself into a calm demeanor. The epidermis comprises five layers, basal, prickle cell, granular, clear and cornified. She ran over the definitions in her mind, trying to focus on fact over the mimicking voices in her brain.

What did the cotton that covered your mouth taste like? How did it feel looking into the delighted eyes of manic men who had you where they fantasized you? How dirty did you feel when their eyes ran up and down your body? Where did the restraints cut into your wrists? Did they draw blood? Do you still feel the sting, even at night in your own bed? Tell me the locks you use, how the move to an upper-level apartment strained your back, how many times do you look across the street before crossing it?

Her body shot forward suddenly at the sudden warm, solid presence of something on her shoulder. Scully turned her head around to find Mulder’s hand retreating, his eyes widening and his mouth beginning to form a question. Scully focused on drifting her eyes without a care to keep that question down. She was getting tired of having to say that she was fine.

It was the only answer anyone would take without question or follow-up. An honest one would make the room uncomfortable and would have questions regarding her ability to succeed in this type of position raised. Scully didn’t want to be doubted, not any more than she usually was. A great, looking forward to not sleeping the next three days would only be met with her being called a bitch. She was a little tired of that too. So fine, because it was the only one that the police officers and agents around would take without question.

Apart from Mulder who would only take it as an answer so far and become her self-appointed guard dog whenever she said it. He stood suffocatingly close to her the entire time after she had been freed from that RV. Scully could feel his body heat on her back, taste the carbon monoxide he exhaled, and hear the slight grinding of his teeth. It made her skin prickle, her own anxiety she had been trying to push away feeding on Mulder’s. He stood by when the EMTs checked her out. He watched their hands suspiciously as if an ice pick would appear out of them to finish the job from before. He watched Scully give her report on what happened, butting in when he thought details would be too much for her. Scully leaned back when he did. From the back, she couldn’t distinguish him from the rest of the agents around them.

[sisterofficerlucychen]

Chenford + 5x16 Tim finds out Lucy got him into Metro!

“Why do you know what the inside of Smitty’s trailer looks like?”

She doesn’t quite get the question at first, mainly because her focus is entirely on ensuring the minced garlic and onion she’s sautéing doesn’t burn but the fact that she’s blocked that entire ordeal from her mind doesn’t help. Cleaning Smitty’s RV was like some twisted circle of hell, one she hoped she wouldn’t get nightmares from. He hadn’t lied when he said it’d been a while since it was last cleaned and Lucy spent the entirely of three hours wondering how Smitty was even able to live like that. One bag became two, two became four, and by the end of the night, she’d taken our nine bags full of trash.

“What?” The question comes out in a small chuckle as she completely misses the point of why he’s asking.

“Smitty, Lucy. Why were you in his RV?”

She looks up this time, a puzzled expression forming across her features as her eyes lock on his and her brows furrow at the question. Tim moves toward her, shutting the door behind him until he stops beside her and she turns to face him. His jaw is hardened, gaze set with anger he’s trying to contain as he crosses his arms against his chest.

It takes her a second for it to click but once it does she knows he doesn’t miss the shift in her reaction as it settles inside her. How brown eyes widen and the soft smile on her lips drop into a frown, the way she’s at a loss for words as her lips part but no sound comes out. She can’t exactly deny it but there was a reason why she went against his back to shuffle all the different chess pieces so he’d end up at Metro.

He waits and it’s ultimately worse than anything else because the way he’s staring her down is something that actually manages to unnerve her. A combination of anger, disappointment, and betrayal. She can’t quite place it but she knows him well enough to know that the flame behind those sparkling eyes hold nothing but an array of negative emotions.

She opens her mouth to speak again but this time, she turns her back on him knowing that this conversation is going to take much longer than she wants and unless they want the LAFD to chime in because of a kitchen fire, the flaming pan on the stove will have to wait. Selfishly though, she uses it to buy herself an extra second or two as she turns the knob to shut off the burner and sets the burning pan aside before turning back to him to meet his eyes.

“I helped him clean it.” “You helped him clean it or you cleaned it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I cleaned it.”

“Why?”

She knows where this is headed and she doesn’t like it. She cleaned it because she owed Smitty a favor, she owed him a favor because Smitty was the only one who could get Fuji to retire, and Fuji retiring opened up the opportunity for Tim. This is where he’s trying to get her to land on and she’s unsure if it’d be easier to just rip the bandaid off or give him a play by play of how they got here.

“He was the only one who could convince Fuji to retire.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Why?!”

“Fuji retiring was the linchpin. It was the only way to get you into Metro.”

“That wasn’t your call.” 

“Tim!”

“No! That wasn’t your call to make, Lucy!” His voice is a little louder this time, more irritated and she can sense how much he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. She tries to protest but he doesn’t let her get very far. 

“No! No, Lucy! You shouldn’t have meddled, that wasn’t for you to intervene! You had no right to play chess with everyone’s careers!”

“What?” she shakes her head at him because as much as she wants to understand, she doesn’t. She can’t. “I didn’t!”

There’s a defensive edge to her tone, the accusation feeling a little too personal and a bit too invalid. She knows this is what Nyla meant when she first warned her about getting involved but Lucy was adamant to believe that there was any world where this would backfire, it was the perfect plan. Yet, here he stands, actually upset at the fact that she tried to help him.

“No, no!” she argues, “I was helping you!”

“Really? Helping me? Please tell me how losing my entire team’s trust is helping me?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“They think my girlfriend manipulated Fuji, Watson, and Hicks in order for me to get into Metro.”

“That’s not—Tim, no. That’s not what that was.”

“Really? Then what was it? Because it sure as hell seems like it, Lucy!”

“I was trying to look out for you! You were miserable at a desk job, you were one week in and you were already bored out of your mind!”

“But that wasn’t for you to decide!”

“Just like it wasn’t for you to decide to leave patrol? I was going to transfer Tim. I was set, I was ready, I thought we had both agreed on it and you decided to go tell Grey?! If you want to yell at me because I went behind your back, fine, but don’t act like you didn’t have anything to do with this when it was your decision that made me act on it in the first place!”

The expression on his face falls and she can see just how much it took him aback. He’s blinking, trying to digest what she just threw at him and Lucy knows it’s not exactly fair but he’s worked her up enough that she feels cornered and it’s the only thing that comes to mind because the thing is, he was the one who set the domino effect into place.

As upset as she is, as much as she hates how upset he is and the aftermath of it all, she’s not about to apologize for it. The truth is she’s not sorry for getting him out of a desk job.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Luc—“

“No, Tim. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be mad at me that I intervened when you did the exact same thing. You don’t think I put anything on the line by doing that either? Do you think any of them are going to trust me again? Are you even going to trust me again?” This hits something that she wasn’t expecting as she sees a rollercoaster of emotions pass through him. She can see how he wants to settle on compassion, his jaw unclenching and his gaze softening at her before it morphs into something else: regret. He shakes his head as his lips purse into a thin line.

“I don’t know.” “Right,” she nods softly as she chews on her bottom lip.

There’s something eerily familiar about the situation, the emotions that envelop them being once she’s felt before when the situation was drastically different yet the way she was left feeling felt the same. She swallows hard to try and stop the tears that are welling in her eyes from spilling over.

“I should go.”

Don’t. Don’t leave me, she wants to yell. She wants to stop him, she needs to because she’s so afraid of where they’ve currently landed. It’s their first real fight and as much as she wants to tell herself that this is normal, it doesn’t feel like it. What if they can’t come back from it? What if she really did just ruin the most important relationship in her life? It’s her worst fear come to fruition as she stands there, watching him turn around and walk out the door.

No. No, no, no. There’s a sour taste in her mouth as it hits her how wrong this all is. This isn’t who they are nor who she wants them to be. They’re suppose to be the ones who make it, the ones with the stories for the grandkids, with the phones filled with albums of each other and their kids. This was suppose to be their first Valentine’s Day together, the first of a lifetimes worth. It was suppose to be romantic, sexy, and intimate, not whatever just unraveled before them.

It’s this thought that propels her to move. The determination to not let the love of her life slip past her fingers. He matters too much for her to just leave things as is. He’s worth the effort, that’s the entire reason she got involved in the first place. She needs him to know this, these were the words left unspoken when he asked and she needs him to know that she did it with the best intent. She just hopes she’s not too late.

It feels like forever between her running after him and actually tracking him down in the parking lot. He’s at his truck about to get in as she sprints across the lot to get to him.

“I did it because I love you!”

“What?”

“You asked me why. You asked me why and I didn’t tell you and it’s what I should have said in the first place. I meddled because I love you, Tim. I’m in love with you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone as much as I love you and it’s terrifying, okay? You challenge me, you inspire me, you make me want to be the best version of myself that I can. You moved out of patrol for me and I was just suppose to sit there and watch you be bored out of your mind? You loved patrol. You didn’t hesitate and I—I couldn’t, I couldn’t let you make this huge sacrifice for me without doing anything for you. You asked me why I did it. I did it because you taught me that some things matter more. I couldn’t just sit there with my arms crossed and not do anything when I knew how much an opportunity at Metro meant. You matter more, Tim. You always have, you always will.”

That wasn’t exactly what she had in mind to say but she doesn’t regret it either. It’s the truth, the inevitable that was going to come out sooner rather than later because Lucy doesn’t even know when she fell in love with him, just that she did.

Yet again, she’s managed to leave him speechless and if the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d be amused by her ability to render him without words so often. Instead, she waits with her breath caught in her chest as seconds seem like years before he does or even says something. An infinity later the expression on his face softens and he’s staring back at her in a way that’s become like home. Her shoulders relax as small smile curves on his lips.

“You love me?”

“I thought that was a given.”

“You’ve never said it.” “I’m saying it now.”

He steps forward, his gaze never breaking from hers as he shifts a loose strand of hair behind her ear as his hands settles on her cheeks.

“Good because I love you too.”

[samgirl98]

Cain and Abel Wept 2/?

Prev | Next

When Danny’s parents had recommended they hide out in Gotham for a while, the protest had been on the tip of his tongue. Gotham was Batman’s territory. Danny didn’t want to risk it.

“Batman doesn’t allow metas,” Danny had said instead of what he should’ve.

“But honey, you won’t be using your powers. Besides, there’s so much ambient ectoplasm that it would be hard for the GIW to hunt you down even if you accidentally use your powers for a short period,” his mother explained.

“Yeah, Dann-o, you need a place with rich ectoplasm, and Gotham city has the second highest amount of it aside from Amity.”

“But Batman is part of the Justice League. If they ignored us before, it’s because they’re fine with what the government is doing.”

Both his parents looked at each other, “We know, sweetie, but it’ll only be for a few weeks. Just enough time for you to recharge.”

For use to recharge, went unsaid.

So, Danny had given in.

Seeing his birth father in his full Batman suit, he regretted not telling his parents the truth. All of this could’ve been avoided if Danny hadn’t been a coward.

The only reason they could be here was that they knew of Danny’s half-ghost status and were going to hand him over to the proper authorities. His slow heartbeat almost reached an average person’s level out of fear.

Danny watched silently as his little family prepared to fight the Bat clan. All to defend him.

Behind Batman’s shadow, a small figure dressed in muted reds, greens, and yellows came out. Damian.

Danny felt the stab wound that had long since healed and disappeared throb on his back.

“Jack, you take Nightwing and Red Hood from afar with the ectoblasters. I’ll take on Batman and Black Bat. Kids, you guys support us in the GAV however you can. Do not leave this vehicle, understood?”

Danny studied all their determined faces. His mom could’ve been back at Fenton Works pouring over data and writing papers. His dad could’ve been inventing new ghost gadgets and fishing for ghosts through the ghost portal while eating fudge. Jazz should’ve been in college.

They gave up their lives for a boy who wasn’t related to them by blood.

Danny took the keys to the GAV and phased through it. He locked his family in and ignored their cries of alarm.

He refused to put them in further danger.

Danny walked up to Batman and Robin, his shoulder straight, “I surrender but leave my family out of this. Call the GIW and any other hunter you need to, and I’ll go quietly.”

Behind him, Danny heard his family scream out in outrage and horror at his words. He ignored them. Looking at Batman straight in his white-out eyes, Danny put his hands up so he could be led away.

____

Bruce had no idea what he would find when he came for his previously unknown son. Whatever it was, this wasn’t it.

Danyal was holding his hands out as if ready for them to be handcuffed, and the Fentons were kicking and screaming in the RV (at least, Bruce was pretty sure it was an RV).

He looked around the scene and figured that having his whole family suited up and ambushing the small family was probably not a good idea. He was better than this. Why hadn’t he noticed earlier that it was a bad idea?

He should’ve just come with Damian and maybe knocked on their door instead of scaring the shit out of them.

They had been ready to leave, he justified it to himself.

You could’ve put a tracker on the vehicle, the logical part of his mind told him.

Bruce didn’t voice any of this or let it show on his face.

“Danyal,” the boy flinched.

“It’s Danny,” he said with anger in his voice.

“Danny, we didn’t come here to fight or…arrest you.” Bruce would later figure out why Danny thought that “We just want to talk.”

Danny looked at him in disbelief before eying Damian and the rest of the family. Everyone else started fidgeting, looking uncomfortable. Bruce knew they were coming to the same conclusion Bruce had.

They had been too hasty and let their emotions rule them.

“So, you’re not here to arrest me.”

“No, why would you think that?”

Danny’s face shut down of any emotion.

“No reason,” the boy answered.

“If this is about your meta powers, I know it seems like I hate metas, but I don’t. I don’t want them here because they would be in danger from my rogues.”

Danny stayed silent. He looked back at the Fentons; they were still trying to get out of the vehicle while spewing threats at Batman and his family.

Danny did a hand signal, and they calmed down a little though they were still tense and finding ways to get out.

Danny sighed.

“Akhi, I’m sorry.”

Danny froze; it looked as if he wasn’t breathing.

“I’m so, so sorry. I should’ve come with you. I shouldn’t have…I’m a horrible brother and a worse person.”

“Dami,” Danny whispered.

Damian started crying. Big fat tears fell from his cheeks (cheeks that still held baby fat to them). Bruce watched in horror as his youngest fell to his knees. Damian had always been the least emotional of all his children, so when he broke down crying, almost none of them knew what to do.

Danny stepped forward before stopping, “Oh, Dami.”

Danny didn’t make any other move. A part of him wanted to comfort his younger brother as he used, but he still remembered the feel of cold metal going through his back. He still remembered the feeling of betrayal as his baby brother left him a growing pool of his blood.

So, he did nothing. Danny stood there as his younger brother held himself and cried out his regret.

Danny couldn’t find it in himself to forgive his younger brother.

He knew Damian had been brainwashed (he had been six!), but Danny had been a child, too. He had sacrificed so much for Damian, and his brother betrayed him. It was hard to forgive even when, logically, he knew it wasn’t Damian’s fault.

(It was Talia’s, Ra’s; not Damian’s)

But emotions weren’t logical, now, were they?

Emotions are useless, Ra’s’ voice rang through Danny’s head.

Shut up.

“What now,” Danny asked as Damian calmed down.

Batman looked at him and then at his family behind them.

“Now, we talk.”

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @luer-mirin @mur-ururu @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @meira-3919 @aethernorwood @mimilikey @marshmelloe @latheevening226 @ahyesanerd @lexdamo

[resident-gay-bitch]

part one of this can be found here :) it has little steddie

"subtle." steve said, leaning up against the backside of the rv they'd stolen, folding his arms over his chest as he looked on at eddie.

eddie flinched back, almost dropping his cigarette, "shit." he gasped and then relaxed when he saw it was steve standing there, "yeah, well... it's better than getting another lecture about lung cancer from baby sinclare."

steve chuckled softly to walk over and crouch on the grass beside him, "care to share?"

"he rhymes!" eddie said with a little dramatic flare as he passed the smoke over to steve.

steve grinned as he inhaled and they settled into a comfortable silence. they passed the smoke back and forth a few times. he looked at eddie in the silence, playing a thousand different possible conversations over in his mind.

"you'll protect dustin, right?" steve asked.

eddie blinked at him, pressing the smoke between his lips, "what?"

"down there." steve said, like it was simple, "when you're... you'll keep him safe?"

eddie sighed and looked back out at the treeline, "i'd give my life to make sure that kids safe, man."

steve sighed too, a heavy one, a weight being lifted off his shoulders, "yeah..." he looked back at eddie, "me too."

eddie looked over to him, blowing out the last puff of the cigarette before he stubbed it in the grass. they locked eyes, staring at eachother with a heavy weight pushing down on their shoulders. eddie let his head fall back and thump against the rv slumping down until he was comfortably sat. steve mimicked his movements.

they shared a look, one with so much weight and pain, and they both knew what it meant. they didn't have to say it out loud to know that one of them probably wasn't going to make it back out of this alive.

eddie gave him a small smile.

steve nodded his head, "shit."

eddie laughed, and it was pained, but a laugh no less, "i'm gonna need a-fuckin-nother cigarette man."

"we have bigger problems than lung cancer to worry about right now." steve said, holding his hand out as eddie fumbled with his pack of camels.

he huffed a laugh and placed a cigarette between steves long fingers, "damn right."

steve watched with a small smile as eddie searched for his lighter and quickly lit it as steve inahled. eddie's hand lingered, holding the lighter without a flame at the end of the cigarette as steve held his breath. his eyes fixed on steves lips as he drew the smoke away and blew. he only snapped out of it and pulled back when the smoke drifted to his face.

steve handed him the cigarette.

"did you have a good life, at least?"

eddie shrugged, "ah... i wouldn't say good, but... not bad either, y'know?"

"yeah." steve sighed, "same here."

"really?" eddie hummed around the cigarette, "you got that big house and girls fawning over you and you wouldn't call that a good life?"

steve furrowed his brow and looked at eddie, and if that sentance was said any other way, steve probably would have taken offence to it. but eddie said it with such genuine curiosity that it lead steve to feel a little bad. eddie didn't have a big house, and steve had seen the way that girls would look at him, heard the way they'd talk about him. to steve, those two things seemed so pointless and stupid these days, they couldn't make a good life. but to someone like eddie, those thinks might have been gold.

"yeah..." steve said with a small shrug, "i guess those things are okay... i mean, i've got a big house but it's always so empty. and those girls man? its great in theory, but they all just come and go, only there for one thing. kinda shitty when you think about it."

"oh." eddie said, looking deeply at steve as he tapped the ash off the smoke before handing it to steve, "wheelers the only one that meant somethin, huh?"

steve scoffed and laughed, "yeah..." he took a smoke, "s'bullshit though."

eddie nodded and looked back out to the trees, "i'd give anything for a big house like yours... wayne doesn't even have his own room in our trailer."

"it's so lonely, man." steve shrugged, "maybe if my parents were around more than like... two weeks in a year, or i had a sibling or something, but..."

"oh." eddie swallowed, "didn't know you had shitty parents."

"don't tell many people."

eddie sighed, "i know how you feel... mum overdosed when i was ten, and dad..."

"taught you how to hotwire a car." steve nodded and thumped his head back against the rv, "you needn't say much more."

eddie laughed quietly, "yeah."

"but the good stuff?"

"well... i got my boys, you know, the band-"

"corroded coffin, right?" steve asked and handed the cigarette back. he ignored the way his stomach flipped at eddie's bright smile and the fresh glow in his eyes at the fact that steve remembered- no, that he knew, "dustin doesn't shut up about you, man... he's- he's been begging me to take him to one of your shows because the bar wont let him in alone."

eddie smiled so brightly, bashfully, "really?" he scrunched up his nose, and steve thought he was beautiful.

"yeah... but i kept saying no, cause, like... why would i want to go see eddie, the freak, munsons metal band play in some dodgy dive bar on a random tuesday, you know?" he laughed, and eddie did too, thankfully not offended. steve wasn't trying to offend him, afterall, it was just a fact, "wish i had now."

"don't dwell on the past, stevie." eddie sighed, puffing a thin cloud of smoke out to the sky.

steves heart skipped a beat at the nickname.

"for dustins sake, man..." he gave eddie small smile, "now i'll never get to take him to one of your shows."

"probably." eddie insisted, giving steve a stern glare with an arch of his eyebrow, "not definitely... you need to try your best to make it back to him."

"you too." steve smiled.

"i need to make it back to wayne..." he sighed, "that man, he... he took me in and gave up his whole life to look after me, ya know? it's not fair of me to just... die on the spot."

steve nodded, "same with robin."

"steve..." eddie said, his eyes sinking as he turned his head towards him.

"yeah?"

"promise me..." eddie swallowed, "promise me, if you get out of here... if i don't... tell him thanks? tell him that i love him, and thankyou... for everything?"

"yeah, eddie." steve smiled, his hand reaching out to rest over eddies on the cool grass below them. he gave it a little squeeze, "i promise- but only if you promise to say the same to robin for me?"

"can't you tell her yourself?" eddie huffed, passing the smoke back to steve with his free hand, that wasn't trapped by steves warm one.

"she wont let me." he laughed softly and pulled the cigarette to his pretty lips, "i don't blame her."

"then, yeah." eddie smiled and flipped his hand upwards under steves so their palms connected, and so he could slot their fingers together to hold, "yeah, i promise."

they both looked out at the treeline, watching a pair of birds dance around together in the distance, feeling the cool breeze that came with the slow beginning of the sunset as they shared the end of eddies cigarette. once it was done and stubbed out in the grass, they still didn't let go of one anothers hands, they just watch the sky turn a dusky shade of pink and purple.

"tell me a secret." eddie said quietly, not looking at the other man as he spoke, but he let a soft smile creep onto his lips as he said it, "something no one else knows."

"a secret?" steve asked.

"yeah." eddie looked at him with that same soft smile, "it can be anything... your deepst darkest desire, your biggest fear, the thing that keeps you up at night... or, something super fucking embaressing that you thought you'd never tell anyone."

steve giggled softly and looked over at eddie with a pink splatter in his cheeks, "you wanna know a secret?"

"yes." eddie said with a proud smile and a nod.

"why?" steve asked.

"because... i wanna know something about steve almighty that no one else does- not even buckley!" eddie squeezed steves hand, "i think that would be an awesome power move... you know? eddie the freak, harboring something burried deep in the vault of harrington... plus, if i die, then it dies with me, no one else could ever know. if you die, then you'll be getting it off your chest. win, win."

steve squinted his eyes and smiled, "will you tell me one too?"

"only if you ask nicely." eddie hummed, gazing at steve a little dreamily, honestly.

"okay..." steve laughed, nervous under eddie's gaze, "please tell me a secret in return."

"i promise." eddie smiled.

steve grinned and looked back out at the trees, thinking of something to tell eddie. something no one else knew. something eddie could appreciate.

"okay, robin has seen this, but she doesn't know why." steve peaked at him out of the corner of his eye, and he smiled softly, eddie got rather excited, "i have a ken and a gi joe doll sitting next to eachother on the shelf in my wardrobe holding hands."

eddie burst out with laughter, "what?"

steve laughed too, "get it... cause they're... they're in the closet."

eddie looked at him blankly for a moment, and steve tried to hold back his smile. it wasn't working. he could feel his cheeks burning red and his laughter begging to break out as eddie just looked at him, dead serious.

and then they both broke, laughing loudly to the point of tears.

"i can't believe you have a closeted ken and gi joe doll in your bedroom."

"it has sentimental meaning, okay?" steve scoffed, sending a bittersweet smile to eddie.

"a double entendre, maybe?" he asked with a hopeful glint in his eye.

"yeah." steve sighed, leaning back against the rv again with a saddened smile, "robbie doesn't know about that either."

"i can't believe you remember." is what eddie said next, and it made steve blush.

"it was you." he said simply, looking over at eddie softly.

"hmm." he nodded, "i can't believe i was the start of steve harringtons sexuality crisis."

steve cracked a smile, "don't get an ego, now."

"too late." eddie sighed with a click of his tongue. he grinned wildly at steve, "already got one, big boy."

steve blushed and rolled his eyes, "come on... what's your secret?"

eddie looked at him with a soft smile now. steves skin prickled as eddie started to softly soothe the back of his palm with his calloused thumb. steve looked at him, waiting patiently for eddie's reveal. eddie turned a little pink, and steve found him adorable.

"i'm twenty one and still haven't had my first kiss."

steves eyes widened and his mouth gaped open, "what?"

eddie laughed softly, "i haven't had my-"

"i heard you..." steve muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head, "why not?"

"well, it's not as easy when you're a freak, stevie." he hummed and wiggled their combined hands, looking down at them as he spoke his next words, "plus... this real pretty boy promised to take it when i was nine."

his eyes flicked back up to steve, big, dark, baby cow eyes that steve could stare so deeply into. he swallowed, and eddie did too, and they looked at eachother for a moment.

"he's still the prettiest boy ive ever seen." eddie said, his voice almost a whisper as he just looked at steve.

steve felt himself blushing from the tips of his ears down to his stomach. sure, he was called hot and attractive all the time. but never like this. no one called him pretty, and looked at him with such genuinity and care. no one made his stomach flip like eddie did. not even nancy.

steve hopped they'd both make it out of this alive.

"you know..." steve muttered low, his eyes flickering between eddies pretty pink lips and his beautiful eyes, "i thought this from that day, and every day since... but you're the prettiest boy i've ever seen too."

eddie smiled softly, "you're not gonna let me go without having my first kiss, right?"

steve scrunched up his nose with a little giggle, and eddie laughed, "no... obviously not."

eddie smiled and licked his lips, "i don't know what i'm doing."

"luckily, i do." steve said with a grin, and it made eddie blush again, "i've never kissed a guy before, though."

eddie smiled, "good."

steve rolled his eyes and grinned, tugging on eddies hand to pull him a little closer.

eddie leant over, his other hand landing on steves thigh for support and oh, the way his face turned bright red at the action made steves stomach flip.

"s- sorry." eddie swallowed and pulled his hand away from his thigh.

steve took his hand gently and placed it back there, "its okay, don't be sorry."

"o-okay." eddie laughed a little breathlessly, clearly very fucking nervous.

steve was nervous too.

"you don't have that cough this time?" eddie asked, and it made steve giggle and shake his head.

"definitely not."

eddie grinned.

steve cupped his jaw gently, caressing his stubble ridden skin with a tenderness that seemed to make eddie melt. eddie hadn't been touched with such care before, such gentleness. he'd never had someone want to kiss him, especially not like this. steve pulled him in, and with the first brush of their lips, eddie sighed.

his eyes fluttered shut, and steve held him close as their lips pressed together a little flrmer. he let steve take the lead, because he was clueless, and they kissed for a while.

kissing eddie was good. it was sweet and a little smoky from the cigarette, and his plushy lips were just as soft as steve had imagined. kissing eddie was much better than steve thought it could ever be.

kissing steve was heaven.

when they pulled apart, eddie lifted his hand to brush some hair from steves pretty eyes, to caress his flushed cheek and thumb at his kiss swollen lip. eddie looked over him with a tenderness in his eyes, carving steves name into his heart and hoping the stone would stay that way.

"make it back..." he whispered, his eyes lifting to steves for a moment, a wetness welling up behind them, "come back to me?"

steve sucked in a breath and ran his hand through eddie's knotty curls, "you too..." steve kissed him again, "i need you to make it back too, eddie. promise me."

"okay." eddie whispered and kissed him some more, "i promise."

"i promise too." steve nudged their noses together.

they both ignored the tears that crept their way into the next kiss, knowing that unlike the last, this promise probably wouldn't stay true.

**

tags: @grtwdsmwhr @every-aj-needs-an-angel :) <3

[hawkinsindiana]

we won’t be like them

ALMOST PARADISE: PART FOUR - CHAPTER EIGHT OF NINE

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 10.4k

a/n: gulp. thanks to ms ruby @stevebabey​ for helping me w the early stages of the shower scene ehheheheheh. YES THERE’S A SHOWER SCENE!!!!!!! warnings for descriptions of blood/wounds, general nondescript nudity, major character deaths, and loooooooooots of physical touch pls enjoy!!!!

masterlist

Steve says your name, breaking through the haze of dread and anxiety that’s overtaken you in the last several minutes. His palms grip your face intently as he finally gets you to focus on him, your wide eyes locking onto his. Despite being back in Hawkins, his palms are still slightly chilled from the freezing temperature of the Upside Down; the longer he spends with his skin on yours, you can feel yourself warming him up. He looks scared, panicked even.

Steve’s voice is firm and a bit stern with every ounce of his conviction pouring out into his words, “He’s a smart kid, okay? We’re gonna find him.”

All you can manage is a small nod. Your throat is dry. You can tell Steve’s desperate to keep a level head, but he’s bursting at the seams, emotion showing even though he doesn’t mean it to.

The one time you weren’t with the teens and this happens.

You two agreed that they’ve grown more capable; if there was anywhere your skills would be needed, it was with Nancy. It wasn’t her who you should’ve been helping.

You wished her luck as she landed on the sidewalk outside the RV with Creel House a few yards ahead. If either you or Steve had been there to protect them, this never would have happened. Whatever it was that went wrong may have been prevented; the plan wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible. That doesn’t matter anymore.

You left her to die. You swore to yourself that you’d keep her safe and you left her to fend for herself.

Your brother’s missing. He’s not at the RV like he promised he’d be.

A gentle tap on your face brings you back — you hadn’t noticed you’d fallen into your thoughts once again. Steve’s eyes continue to bore into yours although you’re unable to give any further acknowledgement. He swallows harshly; you’re in shock. He can’t help you any further right now.

Regretfully, Steve removes his hands from you and rises from his knees. He doesn’t want to leave you. 

“Just… just stay right here, okay? Don’t move,” He says, his fingers reaching out to the axe in the dirt beside him, “I’m gonna help them look. I’ll be right back.”

Steve presses a firm kiss to the skin above your eyebrow and vanishes around the corner of the RV, leaving you to sit alone on the steps that lead inside the vehicle. In his absence, you can hear the sporadic shouts of your brother’s name from Robin and Nancy; Steve’s voice joins theirs. Emergency sirens grow in the distance.

You can’t pull your gaze from the red glow. The crack in the earth shredded the landscape with ease, destroying many of the trailers in its wake. You wonder if any of those families survived — it’s not likely they did. The sky, while dark from the late hour, fades into a maroon haze that rises from the gate and the surrounding tree line. What does the rest of Hawkins look like? Is your mom safe? The Wheelers? The Sinclairs?

The Munson’s is gone. You imagine it splintered to pieces and was sucked into the gate as it appeared, torn apart in the same way Creel House did with the four of you inside. You barely escaped with the others. The chimes of the grandfather clock didn’t sound how you expected, but rather like haunting bell tolls from Hell, marking the end of so many lives. It was an awful sound; it’s one you’re not sure you’ll ever forget.

Lucas and Erica were inside Creel House too. Dustin and Eddie would’ve been in his trailer.

More tears burn your eyes. Your hand rises to your forehead; the spot Steve kissed feels warm. There’s pressure in your chest. You’re still loved. Someone still loves you. You’ve done terrible things and you’re still loved. You left her to die.

A ragged sigh is pushed from your lungs when your lip begins to quiver. Far too many tears have already been spilled, but you can’t seem to find the will to stop. Your feelings have always been big — strong enough that it used to feel like a superpower to experience emotion so deeply. But now, after all you’ve been through, it feels like a curse. Everything feels too big. This level of grief and regret… you’ll have to learn to tolerate it. A section of your heart will need to be carved out to make room. Your failure has cost lives. More blood stains your hands; your palms are already spattered. Maybe this is a feeling you’ll need to get used to.

You’re still loved. You left her to die. Your head hurts.

Despite the thoughts fighting for dominance inside your mind, another voice cuts through the air like a knife through silk — Dustin’s voice. You wonder if it’s a dream or some sick trick of Vecna’s as you see him emerge from the edge of your periphery, a long shadow cast over the ground. It takes you a moment to register him as tangible, then you notice his limp. Immediately, you rise to meet him. You sprint a distance of fifty feet in mere seconds.

Dustin’s the first to go in for a hug; you’re more worried about the state of his injury until you see the tears that track down his face too. You gladly welcome his embrace, your arms settling around his shoulders. Your brother cries harder and some semblance of relief washes over the pair of you — the Hendersons made it out alive. Selfishly, you’re glad others were killed and not him. You instantly feel guilty for that thought.

The thought of another crosses your mind. You’re almost afraid to ask.

“Where’s Eddie?”

Dustin’s breathing comes in disjointed heaves. His voice is clogged from his sobs.

“I h-had to… I just…”

As he struggles to speak, Steve jogs over to the pair of you. A myriad of emotions are etched across his face — relief, fear, and perhaps a hint of anger. You lock eyes as Dustin pushes through his stutters and confirms what you thought.

“I had to leave him there. His body’s s-still in there.”

His body.

More guilt washes through you. Steve’s mouth presses into a firm line and he casts his gaze down towards the ground. A hand smooths over the crease in his forehead, the other still holding the axe tightly. He curses under his breath. 

How many lives did this failure cost?

You squeeze your brother even tighter, one of your palms slipping to cradle the back of his head. You want to take this feeling from him and carry it instead. Dustin sighs a rather deep breath, his words muffled against the fabric of your vest, “Max is gone too, isn’t she?”

At the mention of the girl, your resolve crumbles. Your shoulders sag from the weight of her name, now burned into your mind as a reminder of what more you could’ve done. More tears pool behind your eyelashes; you blink and they fall, pouring down over your face. Your reaction is enough of an answer for him, but not for you. You inhale, knowing that your actions, or lack thereof, took one of your brother’s best friends away from him. You left her to die.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble. It’s unclear who you’re saying it to, or which death you’re comforting him over. Maybe it’s for everything.

A weight lays across the line of your shoulders; not another moment passes before Steve’s brow is pressing into your temple, his nose nudging the swell of your cheek. His other arm wraps firmly around Dustin as you instinctively lean into his touch, beckoning him closer without retreating from your brother’s embrace. It’s a bit of an awkward position but no one has the mind to care, especially as the three of you come to terms with what’s happened and what’s to come. This is a weight you’ll carry forever.

— 

Steve has a pretty strict ‘no-dust-in-my-car’ policy; tonight, it is completely disregarded. He doesn’t particularly care that Dustin doesn’t wipe his feet off before entering, or that your pants are probably depositing dirt in the passenger’s seat. It is a major sigh of relief to be somewhere familiar — in this case, Steve’s BMW parked in the Maple Street cul-de-sac. You abandoned the Winnebago one street over.

Exhausted doesn’t begin to describe what you’re feeling. Your mind is blank and your body is sore. Everything hurts in one way or another. You can’t tell if you’ll be able to sleep or not, but you know you need rest, preferably with your love curled up beside you.

It takes a few minutes longer than normal to reach the driveway to your home. Roads have already been closed off by police and detours made around the damage. People are hastily packing up their families and clogging up the streets as they abandon their homes — you wish you had the luxury. 

You pull the spare key from its usual place in the light fixture on the porch. The second you insert it into the lock, the door opens from the opposite side; your mother stands before you clad in an obnoxiously fluffy pink robe. She appears to be bouncing between worry, anger and relief, which blooms into unmistakable concern. There’s fresh bruising on your neck and Dustin’s arm is thrown across Steve’s shoulders to keep him balanced. 

You imagine the three of you clad in military green and protective attire must be quite a sight. You feel pathetic. You feel like a child. 

“It’s a…” You pause to clear your throat, which has only grown raspier since your experience at Creel House; you can still feel the tendril constricting your airflow. 

“It’s a long story. I promise we’ll tell yo-”

Before you can finish, your mom pulls you into a tight hug, effectively silencing the excuse you had conjured up on the drive over. Right now she doesn’t care what it was that kept you away so long, she’s just glad you’re safe. It takes a bit of effort to hide your wince as her hand smooths over the wound on your back, but more than anything, it feels good to be home and welcomed by the comfort of your mother’s touch. 

She doesn’t know the things you’ve done; you hope it stays that way.

As she pulls away, her hands shift to hold your face for a moment before switching her attention.

“Oh my boys,” She mumbles, reaching out to greet Dustin and Steve next. She does the same, pulling them both into a tight hug and plants a kiss on each of their cheeks. After they break away, Steve gently leads Dustin back into his bedroom, per his request. All he wants to do is sleep.

You manage to convince your mom that food can wait until the morning, so she nervously darts off to help your brother in whatever way he needs. As Steve exits Dustin’s room, your tired eyes meet and your outstretched hands follow. Instantly, warmth spreads through your veins at his touch; you need more. You lead him along the familiar path from the hall and into your bedroom.

It’s sparser than it used to be, but it’s still a relief to be greeted by the wallpaper you picked in your youth. This space exudes nothing but comfort — even more so when Steve scoops you into his hold the second you enter.

The moment you’re settled with your arms slung around his shoulders and his firmly clutching your ribs, it’s like the both of you melt. A deep cleansing exhale somehow pulls you closer until you’re fairly confident there’s no place where your souls begin or end. For everything that went wrong today, thank god the love you share has endured.

“I’m so fucking exhausted.”

You hum in agreement at Steve’s words, muttered from deep in the bend of your neck. You can feel his tiredness, evident in how he’s practically leaning against you to stay upright. His fingers are slightly trembling against you — a side effect of adrenaline threaded through his veins for too long. Now that it’s finally beginning to wane, all that’s left is the desire to rest. 

You bury your face deeper into his clothes, greedily taking in every ounce of solace you can. While his touch is soothing, you unsurprisingly find yourself hungry for more, craving skin against skin after all these heavy garments have been stripped away. The longer you spend here in each other’s embrace, the more of a necessity it becomes.

“Stay with me tonight. Please.”

Steve huffs a tiny laugh, “You’re crazy for thinking I was going anywhere else.”

You allow the hint of a smile to crack your solemn exterior; it’s stupid how good it feels to hear a bit of humor fall from his lips. Instantly, you feel guilty for enjoying a spark of happiness.

He shifts his hold and pulls away enough to meet your eyes. His exhaustion would be easy to miss if you didn’t know him better than anyone else. A small frown creates that crease between his brow as his hand rises to ghost over your cheek; it’s hard to keep the shiver at bay that comes from him lightly skimming the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. Your skin is ashy, coated in a layer of dust and splatters of blood, belonging to you and those disgusting creatures. He wants to wipe away all reminders of these horrible few days. An awful knot forms at the bottom of his stomach as he remembers not all of them are going to disappear.

Steve drops his hand to your shoulder before smoothing his palm down the side of your arm, “Go get cleaned up, yeah? I’ll bring your spare clothes.”

You nod once and say a silent thank you in the form of a kiss, gently pressed to the skin above his jawline; your lips prickle against the stubble that resides there. For a moment, you spot the hint of a blush beneath the grime that flecks his face. You smile a bit, for something so simple as a kiss from you still earns a reaction as sweet as your love. 

With that, Steve removes his hands from you and disappears out the bedroom door. The sound of his car keys echoes through the dark living room while you shuffle down the hall; through the walls, you catch the muffled voice of your mother and the quiet sobs from Dustin. That golden feeling in your chest dissipates.

It takes a few seconds for the temperature of the shower to shift from freezing cold to comfortably warm. Before you have the chance to make any additional adjustments, a knock on the door steals your focus. It’s Steve; a case of déjà vu clouds your mind. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” He whispers as he passes you a small stack of folded clothes. They turn out to be nothing more than one of his long sleeved tees, as well as a fresh pair of socks and underwear. The emergency outfits for situations just like this, hidden away in the back of Steve’s trunk, don’t have comfort in mind. Your eyes meet as you thank him, your voice even softer than his. 

You feel the need to comfort him building up inside your chest, like a compulsion you wouldn’t dare try to defy. He’s done such a good job of protecting and caring for you — you’d like to return the favor. You place your free hand onto his forearm and begin gently guiding him into the room with you; your touch, as well as the delicate gaze that accompanies, serves as a silent invitation he understands through all his weariness. 

As Steve shuts the door behind him, the steam from the shower immediately begins to enhance his exhaustion. Sluggishly, he sets his own bundle of clothes onto the counter beside yours. Before he can reach for you, you’ve already sunk down to the tile, your nimble fingers tugging at the triple knotted laces of his boots. Once you’ve managed to loosen the shoes, he steps out of them with ease; they’re a size and a half too big. The boots are discarded by the door with a heavy thunk. 

Steve’s kneeling as soon as he can and repeats the same action on you. He works quickly to undo your laces and with a hand pressed to the back of your calf for support, he pulls each shoe off. Another heavy thunk near the door. 

A tired silence falls over the pair of you as Steve straightens back up to his full height, minus a heavy sag in his posture. His fingers come to tug on the side of your vest, zippers and velcro ripping as he gingerly eases it off you. He can feel the relief roll through your body in a wave, one less weight on your injured shoulder and before he can continue, you’re repeating the action on him. 

Steve’s chest heats with love as you begin removing his own vest with care; the jacket follows soon after and they’re both discarded onto the tile. He briefly wonders what to do with them — he’d love to have a stupid bonfire and burn it all, along with the terrible memories of the past few days. But your voice in his head reminds him that can’t be done, that there’s a chance you’ll need this armor again. He grows even wearier with that thought. As if you can sense it, because of course you can, your hands press into his skin and bring him back out of his head.

The skirting touches are against the skin of his waist, just below the sweat-soaked gauze your warm fingers placed there not long ago. But now, your hands are calloused and on the brink of blistering, worn from weapon use. Although the sensation is slightly different than he’s used to, Steve would recognize the curious intention beneath those palms anywhere. It’s still you, even if a bit jaded.

Steve lets you work the fabric of his shirt off him. He winces when he twists too far to the side; pain splinters off in all directions from his stomach wounds, irritated and angry after hours of strenuous movement. Your worried eyes dart up to study his expressions, intent on putting him through as little discomfort as you can. Gently, he manages to pull his arms through the sleeves and tugs it over his head with a small hiss. It’s tossed into the pile with everything else.

He’s glad you don’t protest when he begins the same process on you. Once the zipper of your suit is down its track and you start to remove the clothing, a particularly pained whimper escapes you. Steve stills in an instant, waiting for your face to relax before he continues to guide your arms out of the thick sleeves. It takes you a moment to slip out of the fabric now bunched around your thighs; one of Steve’s hands grips your uninjured shoulder for balance as you slide the suit down to the floor. Goosebumps erupt over your bare legs as your skin is exposed to the air, which grows warmer by the minute due to the steam from the shower. It makes it more difficult for you to stay awake, your eyelids drooping even further as you step out of the clothing, pulling your socks off quickly as well. 

Both of your gazes are much different than they normally would be in similar circumstances to this. You’re far too upset, far too angry, far too exhausted to even allow yourselves the luxury of such thoughts. Neither of your eyes carry a single hint of that type of warmth, but a different one instead — the kind that comes from fierce trust and overwhelming love.

Rather than beginning to remove any more clothing, you kneel back to the ground and open the cabinet beneath the sink. After a few seconds of clattering plastic hidden from Steve’s view, you emerge with a rather large first aid kit. Without getting up, you place it onto the countertop and root around for a box of bandages — all shapes and sizes. It pains Steve to think you had prepared for this, knowing that someday you could come home with a wound so terrible that it must be treated with this amount of care, including sutures and hospital grade gauze. He wonders how long it’s been down there, packed away from the prying eyes of your mother so she'd never stumble upon it while cleaning. 

When you finally rise once again, your fingers ghost over his abdomen and the bandage you placed there earlier. Both of your wounds need to be flushed with water and gently washed in the shower, now that you have the proper time. As you begin unwrapping the gauze across his stomach, trying not to focus too intently on the deep shade of maroon that’s seeped through the fabric, Steve exhales deeply in preparation. His eyes screw shut and he blindly reaches behind him to grasp the lip of the sink, a cold sweat starting to trickle down his spine.

“That’s it, Stevie,” You mumble as you continue your tedious work, “You’re doing so good. Last layer.”

What was once alabaster white is stained — hues of red and brown from dried and fresher blood. Steve swears it’s fused to his skin, a whimper breaking past his lips as you lift a scab off when you pull. An apology is already out of your mouth.

You’re frozen, stuck a moment too long scanning the wounds on his abdomen. From the bob in your throat as you swallow, Steve can feel the guilt, sadness, and pain that radiates from you; seeing your lover in this state never gets easier, no matter how used to it you might be. You sniffle quietly.

A soft brush of Steve’s fingers across your cheek forces your eyes upwards. You’re able to blink back the tears as he swipes his thumb over your skin. It’s a silent act of reassurance, but how much it actually does to soothe you, neither of you know.

He shifts his hand to your shoulder, accentuating the movement with a nod of his head and muttering softly, “Turn around.”

You spin on the cool tile at his request, wincing as you begin hiking up the fabric of your tank; the motion angers your shoulder unbelievably so. The sound immediately forces Steve’s hands to rest on top of yours, urging you to stop. He pulls them away, carefully watching your reaction to ensure you go through as little pain as possible while he takes over, sliding it up your torso. The wounds begin to show themselves the higher it rises.

With a tense jaw, Steve grimaces at the sight of your scratched skin, which had been left to rub against your clothes. He wishes there was more he could’ve done for you earlier. He wishes he could’ve taken as much care with your wounds as you did his. The raised marks appear agitated, fresher blood clotting in some areas; Steve stretches the shirt to move your left arm through easily, guiding it over your head so he can slide it off the other without hurting you. He doesn’t want to look at the worst part but it calls to him like the world’s cruelest temptation — the wound is finally exposed to the air as he discards the tank top somewhere behind him. 

Briefly, Steve pinches his eyes closed before forcing them back open; you hear him sigh dejectedly as his gaze lands on the bandage covering where the Demobat had burrowed into your skin. You’ve bled through it over the past day or so, leaving most of the fabric inked red. The only plus side to this is that the adhesive gives much faster when Steve takes a corner in between his fingers. The other hand is holding your hip steady as he peels it away, thumb brushing comfortingly until the bandage is removed; he places the soiled piece on top of his discarded in the sink. 

You haven’t realized how tightly you’ve been gripping the countertop until Steve pulls your hand away from the stone, lightly massaging your palm as he remains intently focused on the deep wound punctured into your skin. Then he finds his eyes roving over your back, eventually landing on the stained band of your bra, now splotched with red from your blood and gray from the parallel dimension. It used to be one of his favorites — he doesn’t know how many times he’s seen this one; the color flatters you so, but now he’s pretty certain he’ll never be able to look at it again. A part of him hopes you feel the same way and toss it out later. He’ll buy you a million more if you do. 

You silently turn in his hold and your gaze is already cast down to meet with his own injuries once more. You want to make it better right now, you don’t want to wait however long it’ll take for him to heal. Why is it seeing them right now that makes your throat ache so much?

You’ve collected your own reminders of what you’ve survived; you’ve learned to accept them as both a blessing and a curse. The thought of Steve looking over his body and seeing twisted skin left behind from one of these nightmares, and being reminded of what left them there, makes your heart crack. You know how painful it is to relive these traumatic moments from your life day after day. You hate the idea of him doing the same, especially when this time was significantly worse than the others. 

Now, you’ll have matching scars given to you by the same awful creatures. For the rest of your lives, they will remind you both of how neither of you could save each other from them.

Steve’s seen you go through this before — watched your body heal after one of these horrific moments in time. It’s incredibly difficult to know there’s nothing more you’re able to do except change the bindings and flush them with water. Twice he’s witnessed a traumatic event indent itself on your skin, as if it isn’t already wired deep into your brain, now unforgettable. 

He knows how terrible this feels, seeing what will be the first scars on his body. Now you’ve got yet another reminder torn into the fabric of your back — the back Steve has run his hands over more times than he can count. Nevermind that you’ve lost it yourself thrice now, you’re still mourning what he should be grieving: the normalcy of his own skin. 

Your face pinches, mind running over the events of the Upside Down, looking for a moment where something could’ve happened differently — a moment where you could’ve saved him from this. But every time, it happens the same way. 

It’s like he can sense everything you’re feeling, almost as if the uncertainty and sadness swirls in the air between you. Your fingers are lightly skimming over the skin of his stomach, absently lost in these terrible thoughts. You need to fix this. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve murmurs gently, his large hands covering yours as he pulls them away and coaxes you towards the shower. Stitches and gauze don’t matter until it’s clean.

“Shower first, yeah?” 

He doesn’t wait for your response, finally beginning to work off his cargo pants that feel a million times heavier than when he put them on in War Zone. Stripping off the final fabric from his body, Steve lets you follow suit, testing the temperature of the water with his hand. Just like the billows of steam that cling to every surface suggest, it’s grown hotter. He adjusts it slightly, the stream warm instead of scalding and he steps in, knowing you’ll be right behind.

The water cascades along his shoulders deliciously, each drop heating patches of skin he hasn’t realized were frigid until now. Steve was worried that the warmth would send him straight to sleep, so he’s relieved that some of his exhaustion washes down the drain as his body is soothed. It’s a deep breath he can finally take. 

Naturally, as you enter after him, Steve shifts back and ushers you under the stream; he’s desperate to let you get some reprieve from the aches of your body. His hands settle on your face, thumbs swiping away the grime and dirt as water spills down your skin. As softly as he can, Steve tilts your head to rinse your hair, his fingers massaging along your hairline for additional comfort.

The water that swirls around the drain starts to change color the longer you spend beneath the shower head; it shifts deep red, then pink, sometimes a brownish gray. Your wounds sting each time the water hits them, discomfort showing on your face with a quick squint of the eye, but it’s a pain you can bear — you’ve felt far worse. With hair now wet enough for his liking, Steve gently spins you with a hand on each arm, letting the stream hit your chest instead. He takes a red bottle from the small shelf and lathers a bit of your shampoo in his palms, the familiar scent mixing with the steam billowing around you. 

His fingers move expertly to work the suds through your wet strands, taking extra time to ensure the shampoo gets to your scalp. You’re practically putty in his hands, sighing lightly as Steve continues washing your hair, head falling backward in bliss from his touch. He’s washed your hair before, but never with this much care and dedication to a deep cleanse. A part of you wishes it didn’t take another encounter with the supernatural to experience it… or any of the significant moments in your relationship you’ve shared recently. 

As he finishes lathering your hair, Steve’s eyes drift to your neck — a bruise has begun to form against the smooth skin, wrapping the entire expanse of your throat in splotches of purple and deep red. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the sight of your face without all its warmth and life. His right hand rests at the base of your neck between your shoulder blades, his fingers gently caressing the injured flesh with a dark gaze, irises holding a restrained rage within.

A shiver — a direct contrast to the steam that envelops you — rolls down the length of your spine as Steve’s cheek brushes yours. His other hand splays out across the expanse of your stomach, keeping you still as his head ducks lower and settles in the crook between your throat and collarbone. Instinctively you lean into him, pressing your face to his hair as Steve stays here for a moment, gratefully taking in the feeling of you standing in front of him. It’s so featherlight that you almost miss it — a kiss pressed to the mark on your skin that he had left there, the only sign of his love on your body. He’s tempted to leave more, to outnumber the other bruises a million to one and make you understand just how thankful he is to have you here with him. 

It doesn’t take very long for you to spin in his hold, your hands seeking to find purchase on him wherever you can. You settle for sliding your fingers into Steve’s hair as his grip on you shifts, his rough palms slipping across your waist to keep you close. His forehead rests against your shoulder as you continue to wet the dark strands as best you can, intent on helping him unwind too. When it’s time to add some shampoo, you have to twist awkwardly to reach the bottles on the shelf. But before you get the chance to, a sound nearly drowned out by the rushing water catches your attention — a small sniffle.

Instantly you snap back to Steve, whose face you take between your wet hands. He doesn’t fight as you gently tilt his head up to see his eyes are rimmed with red. You swallow harshly. You can only imagine how surreal this must be for him; just a couple of hours ago, he was clutching your dying body in the same hands that caress you now. That’s a memory he’s not likely to forget, no matter how much longer he lives for. You hate he has to carry that.

You don’t have any words to comfort him and quite frankly, you’re not sure anything you say right now could be helpful. What he needs is just you — your presence, your touch, and your love. 

Your noses brush as you press your forehead to his and you shut your eyes, taking this quiet moment to do nothing but be present with him. He’s done the same for you so many times it’s hard to keep count. In the darkness, while both the water and Steve warm you from within, he shifts even closer. His lips find yours.

You’ll never grow tired of kisses like this — ones where there’s a swoop in your stomach and every emotion he’s feeling presses into your skin. Through both his hands and his kiss, you understand it all in an instant. The adoration is almost overwhelming, pouring over the edge until you are firm in your belief that it’ll never run out. But the ridiculous amount of affection for you is eclipsed by an unwavering fear. It’s louder than anything else, told by the way his fingers gently dig into the depressions of your ribcage and his lips, which cling to yours until the moment his oxygen runs out. 

Most people wouldn’t associate Steve with being afraid. They couldn’t be more wrong. Steve Harrington is terrified.

There’s a soft desperation that lingers, which you blindly follow into another kiss. Though diluted from the water that glides down your face, the familiar taste of tears hits your tongue; it takes a moment to realize they’re coming from you too. You’re not sure of the exact cause as a deep sadness takes root somewhere in your heart, too far to be inspected further but ever present. But upon understanding the depth of emotions Steve has felt recently, you realize it’s more grief. Grief that for a brief period of time, there was nowhere for his love to go.

It’s not right to say he deserves the world because that doesn’t seem like enough; there’s far more that you want to give him. You want to give him a gift as imperfectly beautiful and impractical as the moon, for someone who holds you this delicately should be rewarded. You’re drawn to him with your tides, even with shipwrecks and skeletons hidden in the darkest parts of your mind. He knows your deepest secrets and he’d still beg to reflect his love in your ocean, even if you’re clouded with storms or calm and clear. 

It’s all meaningless anyways. If you tried to hand him the moon, he’d shrug it off in an instant and give it to you instead. 

When you pull away, both the tears and water are streaming down your faces in a seemingly endless river. Steve feels like you’ve exchanged pieces of your souls. You place a final kiss on the corner of his mouth before you turn in his hold and reach for the shampoo. He presses his lips to your shoulder as you lather the suds in your palms.

This routine continues until you’ve both rinsed and scrubbed the other until all of the grime is washed down the drain. While your bodies may feel clean, your minds don’t have the same luxury. The pair of you retreat with the medical supplies to your room, where there’s no rush to care for your love properly. Steve’s thankful that patching you up goes significantly smoother than last time, even though he does have to stitch your wound closed. It’s rather nerve wracking work, but after a quick refresher from you, he completes it with more confidence. You place large bandages over the bites in his abdomen rather than a continuous piece of cloth so he can be more comfortable. Nearly an hour has passed by the time you’re finished.

—

Under normal circumstances, you’d prop the window open to let the spring breeze filter through the room and cool off your bodies from the warmth of the shower — you decide against it when your ears catch the endless echo of sirens from the town beyond. You should be out there helping, offering your assistance in any way you can to attempt to make up for what you’ve done, but that can wait. 

Steve desperately wants to hold you close, fully envelop you in his arms and pull you on top of him so he can feel your heartbeat thudding along with his own. He needs to feel every inch of your body against his — a reminder that you’re alive, laying here with him in the darkness of your bedroom. His wounds, on the other hand, have a different idea. 

With every movement, his stomach aches; pain shoots through his muscles and forces his face to pinch as he carefully crawls beneath the covers. Even through his pain, he shifts the blankets so you can slip in beside him. The cotton is cool against your skin; it’s the reprieve you’ve been craving ever since finding Eddie holed up in that boathouse last week — the relief of knowing it’s over, that you’ve survived, the same one you’ve felt four times now. 

Even so, it’s not the same. It’s not over. Vecna’s still out there somewhere. Hawkins has been destroyed. It’s only a matter of time before you’re called back into the fray; the pile of battle-worn gear in the corner says as much.

Steve’s mind is running through the same thoughts as he finally settles on his back, eyelashes fluttering closed when he stills. He’s overthinking, worrying obsessively about what’s going to come next and whether or not he has the strength to do this again.

The thoughts shift when your hand rests in the center of his torso, palm pressed over the dip in his ribs where his sternum ends. You crave the closeness too; you wish you could crawl into his arms and sleep forever in his embrace without a care in the world. As you press your forehead to the outside of his arm, Steve removes your hand to clutch it in his, your intertwined fingers now resting against him — his grip is firm and gentle.

As you two lay here, the time on your digital clock passing midnight, Steve finds himself reflecting on what’s to come, more specifically for the two of you.

If he’s honest, a lot of what he said is a complete blur. Only a few details come to mind if he thinks hard enough. What he does remember is that everything he said was the truth — he can feel it deep in his chest. He wouldn’t have lied to you about any of that, not that he’d ever lie to you about anything.

You said yes to it all, too. You said yes to the future, to the-

Oh god.

Suddenly, Steve wonders if you said yes to everything because… well, of course you did. You thought you were gonna die. It would’ve been pretty shitty to turn down something like that from the one you love before charging into battle. He may have accidentally chosen the worst time to spring all that on you.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t want that life with you anymore. On the contrary, he’s certain there will never be anyone else. But wanting to share your future is a big commitment, no matter how in love you are. You’re the one with some semblance of a plan for your life… is he intruding by asking for so much so soon?

Sometimes Steve forgets that he hasn’t known you his entire life. It often feels like he has. In reality, it’s only been a couple of years. You’ve been together for a shorter period of time than that.

His expression immediately creases in embarrassment. You seriously told your girlfriend of fifteen months that you want her to have your kids? 

“Y’know that uh… all that stuff I said? In the woods?”

You raise your head to rest on his pillow, intently studying the anxiety as it forms over his face. The streetlight outside your window lightly washes the pair of you in a yellow hue, even behind the drawn curtains.

You feel your face heat as you recall his beautiful words. You nod once, your damp hair mussing against the pillowcase, “Yeah. What about it?”

He steals a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye; the thrum of his heartbeat increases in your intertwined hands.

“It’s okay if you… if that’s not what you really want. We thought we were gonna die, y’know, so if you agreed to everything back there and you didn’t really mean it, that’s fine. Okay? That’s perfectly fine because I still wanna live with you and I still love you a-”

“I did.”

While you could’ve let him ramble on and on until his brain was empty, you can’t listen to him doubt himself like this for much longer. Confusion shutters across his face with your interruption, his brow pinching as he turns his gaze back to you. He doesn’t have to speak for you to understand.

An easy smile pulls at your lips. You remove your hand from his and rest your palm on his cheek, your thumb lightly stroking his skin; his lashes flutter from the contact. His fingers curl around your forearm in response.

“I meant it. All of it, baby. I want that too, and I want it with you.”

To reinforce your words, you lower your head and press a kiss to the bare skin of his shoulder. When you pull away, a strange feeling spreads from the imprint of your lips. It travels down his arm and across his chest until his entire body is bathed in what can only be described as pure love, far stronger than anything he’s ever felt, including fear. As terrified as you make him, he loves you much more. Warm relief curls around his heart. You meant it.

He can’t stand it anymore.

“C’mere,” Steve mutters gently, sliding his palm down to your elbow. He lifts the arm trapped between you so you can scooch closer; he doesn’t particularly care about his wounds anymore, not when he needs your skin against him like he needs oxygen. He’s convinced your touch will heal him. With your hand secured against his ribs, you pull yourself flush against him and tuck the other beneath the pillow. Once you’re settled, Steve winds his arm around your waist to avoid your own injuries. It’s awfully snug, but exactly what you’ve been craving.

You think you could gaze into his eyes forever — endless galaxies of rich browns and flecks of amber stars with a black hole right in the center. A pocket of space only meant for you, until the end of time.

Steve smiles as he tucks his hand beneath the hem of your shirt, his fingers tracing aimless lines along your hip. He’ll never quite understand how a young boy’s disappearance brought him the love of his life, the future mother of his children, his soulmate — he decides not to question it too much. His life would be so ridiculously boring without you.

His voice is sincere, “You’re my best friend.”

“Well I hope so,” You tease, somehow scooting even closer to him, “You never stopped being mine.”

Steve’s heart swells tremendously. Beneath all the endearment and fondness, you’re still those two lonely idiots who found a friend in the most unlikely of places. Although he never wants to lose your love, losing the innocent friendship that first tied you together would be catastrophic. Before he gets a chance to come up with any sort of equally gooey reply, your eyes are widening slightly — like something’s just dawned on you.

“Wait, does this mean we’re… like… married now?”

The idea of getting to call you his wife makes his head go fuzzy. As much as he’d love to, that does seem like too much too soon. Last week you were planning on moving in together and now there’s talk of marriage and children and the rest of your lives. He’s got you, he knows that now. You’re not going anywhere. He can wait a bit longer.

“Hm…” Steve briefly turns his gaze to the ceiling, the hum in his throat playful as he acts like he’s deciding, “Not yet. Think I still wanna ask you properly.”

A bit of relief leaves you in the form of a scoff — a small taunt that humors his banter, “You gonna get me a ring, Harrington?”

Gingerly, Steve takes your right hand from its place on his chest and holds it out in front of him, carefully twisting your wrist to get a better look. A few seconds of silence pass.

“Steve?”

“Hold on. I’m picturing it.”

You have to hold back a chuckle; you don’t have the heart to joke about it being the wrong hand. Instead, you join him in the endeavor. A delicate silver band molds to the column of your ring finger. It’s nothing fancy — no gems or diamonds perched on the metal but it’d still be yours. Steve grins stupidly as he imagines the feeling of the silver, cool to the touch, pressing into his skin. 

He guides your hand to his lips, where he presses a kiss onto the place a ring would sit between your knuckles: a promise. He rests your clasped hands back onto his chest, “I think a ring sounds nice.”

You smile just as sweetly, knowing that there’s no reason for something material to signify your love. Steve could ask you to marry him while tangled together on the couch and you’d be just as eager. But for all the chaos you’ve experienced, a slice of normalcy and a traditional proposal doesn’t sound so bad.

“I think so too,” You mumble as you tuck your face into the bend of his neck, your warm exhale fanning out over his skin. Steve welcomes the feeling and rests his cheek against your hair, his arm tightening around you.

Marriage… god that’s a heavy word. The more you think about it, the more you realize how you barely understand the definition. Nothing positive comes to mind, only failure and unhappiness with a side of regret. You don’t know how anyone could regret love. You’ve found someone who’s willing to learn and adapt with you, who will stick beside you even on your darkest days, who will dish out extra affection on the days where you don’t feel like you deserve it. You’ve been very lucky; perhaps it’s the universe apologizing for all the hardship and scars. It sent you someone with hundreds of constellations across his skin and a golden touch to comfort you in times of great stress.

Steve doesn’t have experience with loving marriage either, yet he’s still willing to jump off this cliff with you. 

“We won’t be like them.”

Filled with so much mistrust and contempt it’s hard to imagine there was once kindness for the other. Desperate enough to have a son in the hopes he’d fix everything that went wrong. No, it doesn’t take much to understand you and Steve will change the Harrington name into something synonymous with compassion and love. The massive difference between you and his parents is your desire.

You want a family. You want a home. Your children won't be brought into this world for any other reason than to be an extension of your love. They’ll be cared for and comforted, celebrated and cheered on. You’ll take pride in the mundane that his parents found so disinteresting. You’ll have the weekly movie nights and sit on the bleachers at their sports games. You’ll hang their art projects on the fridge and make their stuffed animals have silly voices. You and Steve will show your children the best parts of yourselves and hope they become even better. 

Steve didn’t realize becoming like his parents was something he was concerned about until you said it. It’s a fear that’s quickly squashed. Instead, he worries about what reassurance you might need.

“I won’t leave you.”

Out of everything Steve’s said over the past few hours, he means this the most. Sure, he can’t promise there won’t be bad times or stressful situations that cause an argument or two. He can’t promise there won’t be mistakes made or conflicting ideas. He can’t promise that this addicting feeling of young love will last forever. One thing, however, that he can promise is that he’ll be true to you. He can’t imagine a day where he could meet someone better for him. The thought of having to explain what he’s experienced to someone else makes him want to break out in hives — rather than you, who can see a blank stare or a balled up fist and just know, no explanation required. Taking care of Steve is second nature; he hopes you understand he feels the same for you.

He thinks you might assume this is in reference to your own parents, which he supposes is true as well. He’d never force you to raise your children alone just because he got bored, which he can’t picture either. How could he ever grow tired of the Harrington/Henderson kids? They’re almost guaranteed to be the craziest, most adorable little rascals the world has ever seen. But he wants that life, which he hopes is a comfort in itself.

No, Steve will never leave you. He doesn’t think he could, if he’s honest. Even if you were to grow to hate him through years of marriage and parenting, he’d never initiate anything that could take you from him. How could he? You’re the first person that’s ever loved him. He’ll never give that up willingly, no matter how stupid that may sound.

When you shift your head back, Steve does the same — he can’t stand the thought of going another moment without sealing your soft words in a proper kiss. The only word that comes to mind as you slot your lips against his is safety; he’s never felt as safe and secure as he does right now, receiving your love and cradling you in his arms. You’re going to take care of each other. 

The passion builds as you sigh against him, suddenly feeling a bit too warm for your skin when his palm curls up around your jaw to keep you near. Although the press of his mouth is gentle, he is fierce in his intent. 

“I love you,” Steve whispers against you, pausing for a moment as he allows himself to bask in this wonderful feeling. It continues to grow as you deliver a light peck to his lips; he opens his eyes to peer into yours, a bit dazed by everything. Your response is simple.

“I love you too.”

Steve would kiss you again if you two didn’t burst into a pair of brilliant smiles, like pure happiness emanating from within. He pulls back slightly to get a proper look at you — a smile that he hopes he’ll see in more than one face. 

“I think our first is gonna be a girl.”

You scoff, your voice switching into something playfully stern, “Steve. You don’t know that.”

“Well I do!” He pouts, almost offended that you would doubt him on a matter as serious as this. As his focus returns to your ceiling, his hand moves from your cheek to wave through the air in front of him, “Just call it… father’s intuition, okay? It’ll be a girl.”

Another noise reminiscent of a laugh is pulled from your throat at his insistence. You’d be lying if you didn’t find him insanely endearing — talking about your children like they’re already here. Your heart flutters as the image of Steve doting on a baby girl materializes inside your brain. 

You shuffle down the bed a bit to rest your head on his shoulder, “Alright then. What do we name her?”

Steve hums curiously. He hasn’t thought about that part yet. Although it doesn’t have to, he feels like her name should have meaning. Something important to the both of you, something that signifies a fresh start.

He inhales as it comes to him — a name he’s been repeating to himself over and over again, accompanied by a handful of numbers.

“Marcie’s a cute name, don’t you think?”

Tears nearly pool at your lash line with his admission. The street name for your little apartment in Chicago. Steve would want to name your daughter after the first symbol of your future together. Your smile returns, but far more sentimental than it was before.

“I like that a lot,” You confirm, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. As you do, another idea forms, this one far more upsetting than the other.

“That or… or Max, maybe.”

Steve sighs, closing his eyes at your suggestion. His free hand runs across his brow in an exasperated motion — not at you, but at the outside world he was having a blissful time ignoring. He eventually nods, exhaling once again, “Yeah. That’s a good option too.”

He hates how quickly sadness crawls between you; he can feel you retreating into yourself and away from him, your arm curling back near your body rather than draped out across his chest. While he knows addressing the trauma you both experienced is important, right now doesn’t seem like the best time. Not while all the wounds are still fresh.

“Y’know we don’t have to worry about a name right now,” He mumbles, leaning down to press a kiss into your hair, “We don’t even have a kid yet.”

A small smirk pulls at his lips, “And I don’t know if you’re aware of this Henderson, but I heard that making the baby’s supposed to be the best part.”

His plan works; you let out a chuckle against his skin, “Did you really?”

Steve grins at your playful tone, his hand beneath your shirt shifting tantalizingly higher. He relishes the smattering of goosebumps that he leaves behind and he leans down to nuzzle his nose along your hairline. He hums in response and uses that familiarly flirtatious lilt in his voice that you have a hard time refusing, where you feel desired by him.

“Too bad that’s years away, hm?”

Damn him for being so good at distracting you. You shift against him once more, hooking your leg around his hips, “That’s alright. Gives us plenty of time to practice.”

Your answer earns you a genuine laugh and another kiss to your head.

—

Determined to keep your mind from wandering too far, Steve ends up reciting all the movies available to rent at Family Video, in alphabetical order no less. It’s another one of those stupid skills he’s learned through his tenure there, as well as how to change receipt paper in under five seconds (yes, he and Robin had a competition to see who could do it faster and no, Keith did not think it was very funny). But it ends up working wonders for you, and you make mental notes of those that sound interesting enough to watch for yourselves. As he starts the N’s — “Nighthawks… Nightmare on Elm Street” — Steve recognizes the slowing tempo of your breath and realizes that you’ve drifted off.

Your head’s tilted back now. You had been watching him adoringly as he rambled, giving him an unrestricted view of your sleeping face. For a moment, an emptiness fills his chest. Although he can feel the rise and fall of your torso, you look awfully similar to how you did as you were losing consciousness, also while in his arms. Briefly, he feels a wash of cold come over him at the memory and the tips of his fingers prickle, almost like they’re going numb. Then, he decides to match his breathing with yours; your deep exhales in time with his keep him from completely succumbing to the anxiety. You’re still here with him. There’s nothing to be afraid of right now. Maybe tomorrow, but not right now.

He’s not sure how long you’re out for, but it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. Although your body’s grown more tired, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched, even while lost to a world of dreams. Adorably, you open one of your eyes.

“You staring at me?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question, because it’s incredibly obvious that Steve is. It’s crazy how comforted he is upon the sight of your irises peering back at him. He doesn’t even try to deny it.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

Your mouth begins curling into a small smile. Steve jokingly rolls his eyes, “Don’t sa-”

“That’s dangerous.”

He scowls and shakes his head as best he can. Steve leans forward to press his lips to your cheek, leaving quite a few kisses indented onto your skin. Your nose scrunches up at the feeling and a tiny giggle escapes when he doesn’t relent, propping himself up above you so he can continue his attack all across your face.

Although you had expected more sleep to come tonight, it’s hard to complain when it’s replaced by a golden haze, as if both of you were dipped in pure honey; it’s all slow and soft movements and even sweeter words to keep you stuck together. It’s nothing and everything all at the same time.

“Steve.”

“I’m not done,” He whines as he peppers what feels like another one hundred kisses onto every square inch of your forehead and along the bridge of your nose. A chaste peck to your lips seems to satisfy him.

Suddenly, his expression shifts to something far more stoic; that crease in his brow begins to make a reappearance, as well as the firm clench of his jaw. His eyes go sad, almost like he’s looking through you instead. When your hand rises to caress his face, Steve cracks.

“I’ve never been so scared.”

Creel House — you know it instantly. You can hear it in the tremble of his voice. You did this to him. You gave him the most traumatic moment of his life.

“M’sorry I scared you,” You mumble, gently running the back of your index finger along his cheek, “I can’t… can’t even imagine…”

You get choked up thinking about if the roles were reversed, if you had been clutching Steve’s dying body in your arms. It’s possible you would have been too frozen to do anything other than sob, just wail into his chest as he slipped away from you.

You tut softly, remembering that the stubbornness of the man above you is the only reason you’re still here. His love for you saved your life.

“You’re so strong, Steve.”

It takes every ounce of self control he has not to break. He’s not sure anyone’s ever said that to him before. He shakes his head, biting down on his bottom lip as he wills the tears away. He swallows harshly when your eyes grow watery.

“I’m not. Thought I was dying too. Would’ve torn out my own heart right there and given it to you.”

His brow furrows, “That’s a… little bit dramatic maybe but… you know what I mean. You always do.”

As his left hand rises to cradle the top of your head, you allow the hint of a smile to grace your features, “I like when you’re dramatic.”

Steve smiles too.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” He answers lightly, wishing to absolve you of any guilt you might harbor over this, “Just glad you’re with me now. That’s all that matters. Never letting you go.”

As you melt over his words, you notice the exhaustion is starting to make a home in him. You know Steve takes the role of your protector very seriously, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t get time to recharge. He’d argue you deserve all the sleep you can get, so it’s only fair he gets some too, especially as your body grows sore with every passing minute.

“You can get some rest too, Stevie,” You card your hand through his half-dried hair, pushing his natural waves back from his drooping and tired eyes, “My love.”

“My love,” He laughs lightly, his voice a bit teasing, “That’s a new one.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Actually, I love it,” Steve replies. His voice is as sincere as his touch, which shifts away from your hair. Beginning at the divot below your cheekbone, he traces the back of his index finger along the line of your jaw. His thumb lightly skims your bottom lip when he reaches your chin — caramel eyes study the path along your skin, like a golden line has been tattooed into your skin.

“My love.”

After a kiss to your forehead, Steve shuffles beneath the blankets to drape himself over you, almost like you’ve swapped places. His legs tangle with yours as he tucks his head into the bend of your neck, while one of your hands cups the back of his and your fingers drift into his hair. He sighs happily when he throws his arm across your chest and finally relaxes against you. 

Although his body is tired beyond all reason, his thoughts are running over themselves endlessly. He raises his head to sleepily peer at you, blinking slowly.

“Do you have any of your books here?”

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, why?”

His hesitation is spoken in the silence that follows. He licks his lips nervously, “Can you…”

You nod again when he doesn’t finish, “I can read something to you, yeah. Of course.”

With a comforting kiss placed to his forehead this time, you reach over to your nightstand, careful not to anger any of your wounds. You stumble upon one of the old blue-spined Hardy Boys mysteries you’ve had since your childhood; it might not be as sophisticated as some of the other books you’ve read, but this has always remained one of your favorites.

You both fall asleep shortly after you start the third chapter — the book is slung across his back when you doze off. Steve snores lightly against you. Rest has finally found you both.

—

[scarisd3ad]

Invisible string

(Part of the to the end and back series)

Pairing - platonic!glenn Rhee x fem!reader

Summary - who knew that a pizza delivery boy you met 2 months before the apocalypse began would end up being your absolute best friend.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

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A/n - just a little fic that takes place before the timeline of the main fic! Also, s3 ep1 should come out this week or next! also I love adding more depth to the readers character like I never really said where readers grandparents farm was but it's in the same town as Hershel's might also write a fic where reader and Maggie meet when they were younger!

edited

I sat in my boyfriend's living room, my face buried into Jack's chest as he talked to the pizza place on the phone. This was a rare occurrence, us spending time together. He lived in Macon while I lived in Atlanta for school, so we only did this once every month. "Yes, just one medium pepperoni. 12.49? Alright, yes, that's fine, thank you, yes, yes, alright," he says before hanging up the phone. I look up at him, and he looks down at me before pressing his lips to my forehead. "they'll be here in 30 minutes," he says before pressing play on the movie we were watching before we decided to order pizza.

 About 30 minutes later, a few knocks are on the front door. Jack is about to get up when I pat his chest. "I've got it," I whisper. he takes his wallet and hands me a 20-dollar bill. I get up and walk over to the door. I unlock the deadbolt and the door's primary lock before opening it. In front of me is a guy probably around my age with a black hat with the words 'pizza palace' embroidered and a pizza delivery bag in his hand. "Um, one medium pepperoni that will be 12 dollars and 49 cents," he says. I nod and hand him the bill. "keep the change," I say as he passes the warm pizza box to me. "Thank you. Have a good day," he replies as he stuffs the bill into his pocket.

 "no, thank you..." I look down at the badge pinned to his chest, Glenn. "Glenn"

 August 28th, 2010

"No, Jack, please, you can't go down there," I cry; we're stuck up on the roof of an apartment building after the world has presumably gone to shit. Down below us, the streets are crowded with people trying to escape the city and the crazy people within. I don't know what's happening, but everyone is going crazy, biting and attacking people. It was something straight out of a horror novel. "I've gotta get us something to eat, honey. I'll be right back," he whispers as he cups my face. "I-I'll go with you. Please don't leave me," I cry out. "Please, Jack, I don't want to lose you too." 

"Alright, but we've gotta be fast, okay?" he says, grabbing my hand. We were going down into one of the empty apartments below. We couldn't stay here anyway. Maybe we could hunker down in one of them until the government figures out what the fuck is going on. There's no one in the building as we walk down the blood-covered hallways. We assumed there was no one until we saw a group of those crazy people stumbling down the hallway. "Jack," I whisper as I back up, "Go, you go, I'll find you, I promise." 

September 27th, 2010

It's been a month since the world ended. I waited a few days for Jack to find me, but he never did, so I assumed he died and left. I had to go. The building was starting to become overrun with what I call walkers. I'm stumbling down some road, I don't know which, but I know I'm out of the city. I'm covered in blood when a jeep pulls up before me. "Are you bit?!" I look up at the man in the car. I don't know if I should trust him, but I shake my head. "c'mon, I've got a group up near the quarry." I get into his car despite the concern that fills me. "Shane, my name is Shane." I don't answer at first; I'm shaking from pure fear. "I-I'm y/n," I whisper. 

We arrive at Shane's camp; there's a big RV parked far back near a bunch of tents while the group huddles around a fire. Shane helps me out of the car. "Found her out near the road, scared to death," he whispers to a lady I assume to be his wife. I take a seat near the fire and stare into it. I'm traumatized. I've seen so much death in the past month that every time I close my eyes, I see every single replaying in my mind. "I'm Glenn." I look to my left to see an Asian guy I've sworn I've seen before. I remember that name, voice, and face, but I just can't figure out where I know him from. He smiles at me, and it is comforting to see someone smile. He wears me down until I tell him my name. "I'm y/n," I whisper; he smiles again. How could he smile during this? "Where are you from?" he asks. I let out a sigh as I looked over at him. "Um, I'm from Senoia but moved to Atlanta for college," I say.

My grandparents owned a farm out in Senoia, while my family lived in a small town about 40 minutes away, but I spent most of my life in Senoia. "Cool, cool country shit," he whispers, which makes me laugh, "Yeah, I guess my grandparents did own a farm, so country shit." I look into his eyes, studying his face a little more before asking, "Have I met you before?" he shrugs. "I do. Maybe I did deliver, but out in Macon, so..." Pizza delivery, the guy that had delivered our pizza when I had gone out to Macon to visit Jack. I don't know why I remembered his face. Maybe we were supposed to meet again, and my brain ensured I remembered him. perhaps it was an invisible string tying us together.

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