#stranger things said 'this one cop is a good guy but NO cops are good. hope that makes sense' and that's so hot of them

[beetlejuicyy]

Losing touch | Bada Lee x reader

Bebe Gang AU

Part one • Part two

Pairing: gang member! Bada x reader

Synopsys: Picking up your girlfriend from the police station does not seem like a good date idea for you. Especially if she refuses to talk about the very things that got her in trouble with the police.

Warnings: angst, very much angst, fighting, toxic relationship, gaslighting, swearing

Note: thank you all for the support you showed for Bruises ! This is going to be a two part work so I hope you look forward for the secont part as well. As for this one, I got a bit carried away and it ended up more toxic than I planned. The next one might have less plot and more kinky smut. I'm also open to requests too so if you have anything in mind that I could write I'd love to see it!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were still in bed enjoying your coffee when your phone started ringing. You were expecting a package to arrive and were excited to see the unknown number, thinking it was related to the delivery details.

“Miss y/n?” The stern voice of a woman greeted you. You shook off the feeling that something was wrong. “This is the police station. You’ll be redirected to the caller.” Your blood froze in your veins as you heard a muffled sound through the phone.

“Y/n…”

“Bada? Is that you?” You sat up immediately, still hoping this was some kind of misunderstanding, a wrong number. Your girlfriend sighed.

“I need you to come pick me up.” She seemed incredibly calm, as if she had been through this before.

“You’ve been arrested?” You were still trying to comprehend the situation at nine thirty in the morning.

“I was framed... They are letting me go but the lawyer said it’s better for my image to have someone with a clean criminal record get me out.”

“I’m coming.”

You got dressed and left the house in a hurry, unable to think straight. Only after you got in the car and typed in the address your girlfriend gave you things started to clear out inside your mind. The police station was on the opposite side of the city, far from where both of you lived. What was she even doing there? When was she arrested? You remembered going to sleep early the previous night and her sending you a goodnight text around ten.

You turned on the engine. You hadn’t eaten a thing yet and your stomach was noisy about it. Wondering when was the last time Bada ate something, you stopped at a bakery on your way to get something for the both of you. Only when you stopped the car and got out in the police station parking lot you realized you had no idea how these things were supposed to work. All you knew was that you were worried sick.

You noticed there was a young man around your age in uniform at the front desk right by the entrance and gave him the name of your girlfriend.

“Please fill in this form.” He said as he printed some papers. While you filled in the information he called to let his colleagues know about your arrival. You finished the formalities and checked the paperwork once again to make sure you didn’t miss anything. That’s when your eyes fell on a line already completed. Drug possession. Your eyes widened in an expression impossible to conceal. The guy at the desk might have noticed it because he continued to talk to you. “What could a girl like you have to do with Bada Lee?” He hummed as he checked your papers.

“We’re… friends.” You hesitated. You didn’t feel like owing a stranger any explanation. On the contrary, you were owed some.

“She’s not a very good influence, y’know.”

“It’s written there that the charges were dropped.” As much as you felt angry at your girlfriend you couldn’t accept anyone badmouthing her. Which was ironic because Bada was indeed a bad influence.

“This time, sure.” The man agreed. “But others were not.”

You didn’t want to show how little you actually knew about your girlfriend, especially in front of the cops. However, you really wanted to know. You’ve never pestered her with questions. You always tried to be the cool girlfriend, the fun and easygoing one that she would love. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the obvious things, like the fact that she would get into fights, cancel plans or leave in the middle of your date because of a phone call. You always tried to think it was the same as dating a workaholic, like someone with a corporate job and a very bad sense of work ethic. But today in the car you realized you’ve been fooling yourself all this time. Her file was there in one of those shelves you were sure. You wanted to read it so bad. Know all the things she did and she wasn’t telling you.

“If you ever realize the kind of person she is you can always give us a call.” The guy said, giving you something that looked like a business card. Your eyes scanned it and picked it up , trying not to seem rude. It was filled with his personal information.

“Miss y/n?” Another voice called to you from behind, this time a woman. “Miss Lee is waiting for you but first I need to make sure everything is alright.” Her voice was softer and nicer than the guy at the front desk, even though she was his senior. And most importantly, she wasn’t trying to flirt with you.

You saw Bada behind her, sitting on a bench, waiting patiently. She was wearing the same shirt she had on when she send you the goodnight selfie before you went to sleep. You guessed she had spent the night at the police station. Her hair wrapped in a messy low bun. Her long legs spread out, elbows supporting her upper body as she was leaning forward, hands covering her face. She was tired. Your eyes softened as you looked at her, although you were still upset. When the lady said you were free to go you hurried to your girlfriend.

She looked up before you got close to her, her eyes puffy. You weren’t sure if the look in her eyes was simply fatigue or if she was really trying to figure out what you were thinking. She stood up hands in her pants’ pockets. There was something cold about her that you couldn’t quite explain.

“You ok?” You asked. You wanted to hug her tight but you didn’t want to make a scene in the police station.

“I’m good. Thanks for coming.” She said. You guessed the conversation would start only after having some privacy in your car.

What you didn’t know was that Bada had tried her best not to call you. She hated involving you in things like these and had a hard time talking about it. Ever since you started going out she promised herself to be the best girlfriend you could have, and that certainly didn’t include her usual pastimes. But she couldn’t simply stop one random day. Those were her friends she grew up with, her family. She had a reputation on the streets and it was a big part of her identity. But it was obvious that, at some point, these two sides of her would clash. And today seemed like that moment finally had come.

You both got to your car and decided you’ll drive her straight home so she could finally rest after a crazy night. A night that you still knew nothing about. Bada got in the passenger seat and started typing busily on her phone. You drove off, patiently waiting for her to finish. Her phone was on silent mode but you could see with the corner of your eye that she kept receiving messages.  When she was finally done, she placed the phone in her pocket and stretched her arm to turn on the music in the car. She searched for a song that she liked in your playlist – the playlist she once made for you as a gift to think about her when you were driving alone – and leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. You kept checking on her constantly as much as you could while driving. She was lost in thought, face slightly turned away from you. You tried to think she was tired, she was stressed. You kept finding excuses for her while trying to be patient, to give her time. Maybe she didn’t feel like talking.

When her phone vibrated in her pocket again you sighed. She reached out and started typing again which only made it harder to keep calm. You clenched your hand on the steering wheel. She could talk to anyone but you. Her silence was driving you mad and all the times when you let things slide for the sake of your relationship came back to you in a flash. As much as you loved her, her attitude made you feel stupid. Stupid for trusting her. Stupid for telling her everything about you while she barely talked about herself. Stupid for finding her excuses. You swerved to the left unexpectedly, finally getting a reaction out of her. You stopped the car in an almost empty parking lot and leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath.

“I’m listening.” You said sternly. Maybe it wasn’t the best way of addressing things. You had let all the negative emotions build up and now they were exploding with a passive-aggressive tone and a nasty attitude that Bada would not receive well for sure. She cocked her eyebrows at you, as if you were the unreasonable one between the two of you. “What happened last night?”

“I was framed, I told you.” She took a deep breath before answering. She was trying to control her anger as much as you.

“For what?”

“Does it matter?”

“Drug possession.” You stressed the words carefully.

“And I told you I didn’t do it!” Her voice was gradually getting louder. “What’s with all these questions?”

“Do you deal drugs?”

“Should I take the bus instead?” She spat back another question as an answer. She sighed in exasperation when she tried to open the door but you had them locked.

“Do your friends deal drugs?”

“No, we’re just your friendly neighborhood  association, knitting sweaters and planting flowers.” She answered sarcastically and you couldn’t help but slam your fist against the door in frustration. Bada’s breath got stuck in her throat for a moment. She never saw you angry before. “I told you I didn’t fucking do it.” She said again.

“Not now. How about other times?” You said and, seeing that she was avoiding to answer, you continued. “You said you needed someone with a clean record to pick you up. Does that mean I’m the only person you know who doesn’t have problems with the police?” You raised your eyebrows in expectation. “Lusher? Tatter? Kyma?” You asked in disbelief as the expression on her face provided all the answers you needed. Those were the sweetest girls you met, some of her nicest friends and you had a hard time believing it.

“Kyma only has minor offences.” She muttered under her breath, knowing it wasn’t changing anything.

“What about you? What in the world are you doing whenever you’re not answering messages for hours? When you cancel things out of the blue? When someone calls you and you don’t even bother to come up with a lame excuse for leaving me behind?” Everything was coming back to you. Every moment you thought your relationship was more important than knowing everything. Every time you would bite your tongue just to give her space at the expense of your feelings.

“Stop acting like a controlling wife!” She snapped at you. You were both looking each other directly in the eye, the tension in the car almost be visible.

“I wouldn’t if you would just talk to me!” You almost cried out and it seemed like you lost the staring battle because you put a hand over your eyes, feeling your head heavy. She was still looking down at you, the look in her eyes softening just a little. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know you.” You said. You didn’t see it because you weren’t looking at her, but your words hurt her deeply. “The only thing I know about you is that you like to dance.”

“That’s a very important thing about me.” She replied coyly.

“Why do I have to find out stuff about you from the police, Bada?” She clicked her tongue and looked away, annoyed. She loved the way her name sounded out of your pretty mouth but not this time.

“Just because that asshole was wearing a fancy uniform doesn’t mean he’s a good guy, you know.” Her tone was rather pathetic and it annoyed you even more.

“See?!” You yelled. “You never answer anything I ask you! Maybe I really should have asked more about you at the station.”

“Then call that fucker!” She yelled back and reached out to you. For a moment you forgot to breathe. Her slim fingers got the business card out of your pocket. She crumbed it in her fist. “I bet he’d love to talk shit about me while trying to get between your legs.”

It was too much. Your heart was beating rapidly. The air you were breathing didn’t seem to be enough. Her last words hurt you so much that you didn’t even think when you did it. Your hand just moved on her own ready to slap her. She caught you quickly by the wrist, holding your hand just inches away from her cheek. She leaned over you, looking right through your eyes directly into your soul. Your wrist was still in her hand. It didn’t hurt. Maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the need to fight back.

“I wouldn’t do that.” She breathed out, face inches from yours. You let out a deep breath, not being able to hold her gaze. Your eyes fell down to her lips and you bit yours instead, trying to resist the urge to kiss her.

She pulled back releasing your hand, her back against the door, one leg crossed on the seat above the other. She covered her face with both her hands, groaning in frustration.

“I knew I shouldn’t have called you.”

You didn’t know what to say. You felt terrible. You leaned back in your seat, looking at the steering wheel absentmindedly. Your breathing was finally back to normal after several minutes of silence, as both of you reflected on your words and actions. Bada’s hands had now fallen under her eyes and gradually away from her face. Her thumb was brushing against her lower lip as her phone started vibrating again. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see or hear anything. She looked at the screen for a few moments before she decided to decline the call.

“I’ll drive you home.” You mumbled quietly, your voice almost cracking. She only nodded, sitting back in her seat and pulling at the seat belt. The rest of the drive was quiet. You only paid attention to the road ahead, which was already a lot of effort for your clouded mind. Bada would look at you from time, you could see it, but she wouldn’t say a thing. Thinking it would help you focus easier on driving, you turned the music back on. The song that stopped when you turned off the engine in the parking lot started playing again. The song she chose, a stupid cheesy song she would sing to you sometimes. You turned it off, as it did more damage than good to you.

You stopped the car in front of her apartment building after twenty minutes of silence. You didn’t dare to look at her. You didn’t dare to look at your own reflection in her eyes.

“Let’s go inside.” She said in a gentle voice that sounded nothing like before. You were tempted, very tempted to do so. But you knew that if you did, that fight would have been for nothing. You knew she could fool you again with a few kisses.

“You should rest.” You answered. She sighed. She waited for you to look at her, make any gesture in her direction, but you never did. She leaned forward, placing a goodbye kiss on your hair like she would after every date. You closed your eyes, feeling tears clouding your vision. She got out of the car and you looked after her only by the time she had her back to you. You stood there in silence, feeling like the loneliest person in the world. You saw her enter the building, then saw her again by the bedroom window after she got to her apartment. You knew she saw you too. The pastries you had bought on your way to the police station were cold and untouched on the backseat.

[igetnosleep]

The Night We Met

Second attempt at angst might try again with the next one. I'm glad you all liked "Finally home" I guess you people were rabid for something soft..makes me feel like I hold power here lmao. Also this is connected to "Finally Home" and "Comfort" since those kind of inspired me to write this...Strangers to Lovers cause I like that shit.

So canon typical violence (it's RE so not surprising) and happy reading!

You didn’t like Leon.

Maybe it was the situation or the fact that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him after you managed to escape Raccoon City but you didn’t want to stay away from him.

You’d so happen to meet the stupid blonde when you nearly bludgeoned him with a rusty pipe in the darkened halls of the police station. Too many fucking rooms too many of the undead trying to crawl through the windows, not enough sleep in your system to get through the night that seemed never ending.

All of this happening in the span of a day or two.

You’d seen your friend die in front of you by one of those..things. Now here you were with a man you’d just met who was supposed to be a cop.

“Come on, aren't you a cop?!” You hissed hearing the groans and shuffling through the halls as he held your hand like he was trying to guide you. You’d be kicking and screaming if it didn’t mean certain death. Leon only shrugged, looking to the side almost nervously under your scrutinizing gaze, “It’s my first day.” 

You blinked, staring at him, “The fuck did you just say?” you whispered a bit too quietly, too calmly for his liking. Leon didn’t need to turn around to see your face; he could feel your piercing gaze against his temple, almost debating if you should take him out with you.

“I said-”

“I know what you just said.” 

“Then why did you-” 

“Leon, I'm going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

He promptly kept his mouth shut until you deemed it okay.

Leon didn’t have survival instincts like you’d expect him to. Always eager to help, always sticking to the rules, you’d even tried to reason with him but he wasn’t swayed, if it weren’t for the fact that you were in the middle of the apocalypse, you’d admire him, but you’d almost hit him before you jumped at the sight of the man on the other side of the jail cell turn into a bloody pulp by the..whatever it was as it walked away.

You never considered yourself kind, some of the things you did while finding a place to hide out would be considered heartless. You accepted that you’d never get into heaven, your tongue having spewed more blasphemy in your life time that you were sure that Saint Peter would smile kindly before pushing you down into the lake of fire before disinfecting his hands and going back to his post.

Leon believed in an afterlife. He liked to believe that his parents were somewhere better, somewhere kinder than the life that they were given. Something more peaceful than the death they had lived.

“You speak from experience?” You asked him, earning an expression you could only read as shame from him, you could picture the dog ears pressed against his head. The way he looked like he wanted to cry maybe it was him missing home, you didn’t blame him, you wanted to go home too. You sighed not imagining that this was how you’d spend the apocalypse squeezing the hand of a rookie cop in an attempt to tell him that it would be okay?

The halls of the police station and the foreboding dread in your gut, Leon was a good distraction from the constant stream of fear. You’d squeezed his hand and tried to imagine something better than whatever was trying to kill you at the moment.

You didn’t like Leon, you found him cute, like a puppy it was hard not to look at him and forgive him right away. His face was soft, eyes wide and hopeful. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you wanted to pet him. You obviously wouldn’t because hello you just met the guy. He felt soft too, healthy and still had his baby fat.

He reminded you of a golden retriever, maybe even a labrador. Dogs were nice to think about. Now imagining him with dog ears made you smile a bit. A small bit of peace one he gave you while he was flattered by the attention you gave him he never admitted it though. With cheeks tinted red “That would be embarrassing.” the rookie cop thought to himself.

Leon liked you. Maybe more than he could admit at the moment. Maybe because he latched onto you faster than a baby chick would to the first thing it saw. He liked the way you latched onto him recalling the way Marvin side-eyed him reminding him to keep his head on a swivel. “Just because you found someone doesn’t mean you can have your head in the clouds, understand?” a quick “Yes, sir.” from him and he pulled you along with him.

Was that the selfish thing to do?

Drag a civilian along with him?

You were pretty, yes, he would never deny it, the way you did things the hard way because it was the only thing you could think of at the moment. But it did make him smile when he bothered you about it.

You looked cute when you pouted, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. “Shut up. It was the only thing I could think of.” you whined as he laughed. 

Why’d he have to look like a ray of sunshine? Why’d he have to make you feel..happy?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You don’t.

“What did you do before this?” he asked curiously while you were stuck in one of the rooms waiting for the undead to pass by, his voice cutting you out of your thoughts. You looked up from the ground humming in thought.

“Tax fraud.” 

“Seriously?”

“No, you big goof. I was a barista, worked in a coffee shop, over…somewhere.” 

He noted the way your hand waved dismissively down the street from the police station right he noticed it from the fence. He fumbled around with his gun for a moment pretending to check the magazine while he pondered, maybe if he’d been here just a week early. 

Maybe he would have met you, how would you look when you smiled or laughed at a joke. 

He pushed the magazine back into place, shaking himself out of his thoughts. A weight settling on his shoulder had him tense, turning and looking over at you seeing you lean on his shoulder. Leon relaxed a small smile playing on his lips as he admired you. 

You leaned on him, your body relaxing just a moment as he offered his shoulder, he was thoughtful, you liked that about him. His hand came up to your back and gently rubbed circles between your shoulders. “You’re doing great.” he hummed, leaning his forehead against yours, you could only glare weakly as he was using those stupid puppy eyes on you. You poked the soft pudge hiding under the bulletproof vest. “Shut up.”

A small bit of silence left you two relaxed momentarily forgetting about the shuffling and the random thumps and bumps against the door.

Ada was someone you didn’t trust, she spoke to the point but in circles, never willing to give you a straight answer. In all honesty, if it were any other day if it didn’t feel like the world was ending, you’d be fawning over her like some sort of moron.

For fucks sake she was wearing heels during a zombie outbreak you internally felt yourself putting her on a pedestal practically forgetting about survival and choosing to trust this woman who looked like she was coming out of a fashion catalog.

Noticing your staring Ada, snapped her fingers at you and you stood in attention feeling your face burn in embarrassment. Great, now you look stupid in front of the pretty lady.

Leon didn’t hide his admiration for her, you couldn’t blame him, she had an air of confidence, independence, a person who you wanted to be with but couldn’t attain.

She was mildly amused by your poor attempts at flirting “You’d have better luck telling Leon those jokes of yours.” She hummed as you helped bandage her leg. You only looked confused “What do you mean?” “Come on, you're practically clinging to him giving him those eyes,” She gestured vaguely to your face, you’d still stared at her confused, she rolled her eyes staring at you in disbelief “You’re telling me you don’t like him?” You snort hearing it echo through the sewer “No.” she didn’t seem amused with you.

The train leading away from the city was melancholic and frankly bittersweet, you made it. Somehow you survived just when you were about to leave a note or something for someone to find on your corpse. Leon looked somewhat satisfied relaxing as he just leaned on your shoulder as the train went on towards an unknown location.

His hand gripped yours, fingers interlacing, a nap sounded perfect at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and you felt like a small piece of heaven. Your thumb swiped over his knuckles. “Go on. I’ll wake you up when we stop, okay?” He couldn’t say no to that.

The woman, Claire, stared at you from the corner of her eye. A clear need of an explanation was visibly wanting to pry you for an explanation.

“We met in the police station.” She deflated sitting down on the ground next to…Sherry? Her name was? Yeah she introduced herself to you almost enthusiastically in her tired state, fell asleep like a rock to the insistence of you and Claire. “Sorry we arrived in the city together and we got separated. I thought something happened to him.” She admitted their relationship, acquaintances, “Something almost happened, I almost hit him with a pipe.” Claire felt bad that she laughed at that.

The train stopped a few hours later and once you all reached civilization it was time to go your separate ways. Claire was looking for someone and whatever happened down in Umbrella she looked determined to investigate it. 

You understood why but after everything, you just wanted to suppress the memories and go on with your life and you agreed to take in Sherry. Claire looked like she felt bad but you waved her off, “I’ve got like five cousins her age. She’ll be fine.” you assured the redhead as she hugged you, she didn’t look like she was the maternal type anyway, she was younger from what you gathered about her talking about her brother. 

She should be able to find him without worrying about the safety of someone else.

A brief glance around your shoulder saw Leon looking exhausted, the mental fortitude he had to not break down crying was worrisome. You couldn’t blame him. You felt the same, what do you do in that situation now that you had to look after someone, you couldn’t cry or scream. No, Sherry wouldn’t react well to a breakdown. 

You offered your hand to the little girl and she hesitantly accepted as Leon led the way with a hand on your back as you managed to find a military base ahead.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had been more vigilant, maybe he could have protected you and Sherry. Instead you were both dragged off somewhere with blindfolds over your eyes. He fought against the men screaming at them to bring both of you back only to get a whack to the back of his head and he was out like a light. 

Leon woke up after the men had separated from both of you. Heart pounding his breathing erratic as a man in front of him commended him for making it out of Raccoon City alive. “Rookie with a hell of a first day.” wearing a crooked smile that made his stomach turn. 

Where were you? Were you okay? Did they hurt you?

They made him an offer. An ultimatum. They didn’t really give him much of a choice.

You had been sitting alone clutching Sherry close afraid of the men surrounding you, hands close to their weapons and their eyes wandering staring trying to get a read on you. Your leg bounced the heel of your shoe clicking against the ground, you were sweating bullets, heart beating rapidly. 

You tried to calm down. Nothing was working.

When you saw Leon again after what felt like hours you practically ran up and hugged him, his arms wrapping around you squeezing you so close you almost missed the way he was shaking. His face buried in your neck fingers curling around your shirt wrinkling the already ruined fabric. He only pulled away to kiss your shoulder whispering apologies into your skin. “I’m sorry.” 

It was like you blinked and he was gone, gone to whatever new hell they’d introduce him to. The government relocated you and Sherry, not together I’m afraid. 

You tried to live life like normal but nothing got rid of the nightmares. Dates ran away from your screaming like roaches to sudden exposure to light. New forms of comfort taken from scalding hot showers and wrapping yourself in blankets galore. You nabbed a pitbull from some dumpster. It didn’t seem to matter.

A part of you wanted Leon back. Someone who understood you, someone who'd give you a shoulder to cry on at the moment. You were ashamed to admit that you needed him so bad. It was only one night. One fucking night he didn’t sleep with you. Not like that anyway. Why did you feel so strongly for that dumb blond?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You didn’t.

Six years later you saw Leon again.

Standing at your door looking different from the rookie cop you met that night.

A frozen look of shock on your face as you stared at him.

Your mouth felt dry, your blood went cold.

Oh fuck.

You liked Leon.

[jealousjersey]

josh futturman bf hcs 📎

some oddly specific. fluff and smut

★ stays in the bathroom sitting on the closed toilet seat while you shower because he’s not done telling you about his day

★ laughs in the middle of intimate moments because of how ridiculous it looks for him to be dating you. he thinks you’re way out of his league

★ can’t keep his hands off of youuuuu he worships the ground you walk on

★ loves period sex, he did his research and knows it’s good for cramps, so why should he let you go through that pain? ;)

★ takes you out to places even though half of the time you end up paying for it. eh, it’s the thought that counts.

★ can’t determine if a stranger is flirting with him until you tell him later that day

★ will attempt to fuck you in any position, he watched a porno of this guy doing really odd positions on the girl so he tries to mimick them. once he fell off the bed.

★ first date you two had he walked straight into a trashcan. you think that’s where you fell in love with him.

★ teaches you how to play different video games. once he yelled at you on accident for getting his character killed and loosing his rank but afterwards he cried for 20 minutes from guilt

★ pretty vanilla in bed, when you suggested spanking he got flustered and said “but i don’t wanna hurt you”

★ let’s you stack donuts on it/wrap fruit roll ups around it/let you hold it while he pisses just because you wanted to

★ “would you still love me if i was a napkin” texts from him

★ thought that a beauty blender was a sex toy

★ makes you order his food in restaurants, he just points at a thing on the menu and mouths “please”

★ matching wallpapers, profile pictures, necklaces, bracelets, stuffed animals…pretty much anything you could think of he wants a matching one with you.

★ spills popcorn on the floor in the movie theater, scoops it all up in his hands so the workers don’t get mad at him

★ wears the shirt that says “don’t bully me i’ll cum :(“ to bed

★ has a “i heart hot moms” tapestry in his room

★ cried at the end of “endgame”

★ called the teacher “mom” on accident in highschool, he’ll never hear the end of it.

★ prefers cats to dogs, his reasoning is “cats won’t rat you out to the cops”

★ prefers slow sex that’s realistically a playlist long. probably listening to the weeknd, bryson tiller, and chase atlantic. not music he’d listen to regularly but it really gets him in the mood

★ first time you had sex with him he came in less than 3 minutes

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire enhypen part (four)

back to school after ni-ki fudged up

ni-ki meets a stranger who happens to know his secrets

you also meet this stranger who has you questioning the boys and the situation

nsfw - towards the end

please comment share and reblog! but please don’t repost or translate!!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

you walked on to campus monday morning and everyone acted like last week didn’t happen. the girl was doing better, can’t remember what happen, and the cops never found the culprit.

well, you were looking the culprit in the eyes right now as he was getting a lecture from his two elders.

“you may have classes without us, but you are to be home before 5 pm. all your classes end by 3. if we catch you one on one with any human, we will find a way to get you your own babysitter.” jay ranted to the youngest.

ni-ki nodded. “i understand and i won’t fuck up again, i promise.”

“don’t make a promise you may not be able to keep.” sunghoon stated.

“come on ni-ki, i will walk you to class. my first class isn’t until 11.” you said with a smile.

“and don’t be late.” jay pointed a finger at you. you stuck your tongue out.

linking arms with ni-ki you walked him to his first class which was at 9. it was currently 8:47 am.

ni-ki sighed. “will i ever have their trust?”

you sighed as well. “yes, but it’ll take awhile, okay? just give them time. they just worry and are hard on you because they care.”

while walking to class with ni-ki you noticed a girl with blonde hair watching the both of you.

“who’s that?” you asked.

ni-ki looked over to where you were looking, and shrugged. “dunno, i think she’s in a class or 2 of mine. haven’t really interacted with her. don’t know her name.”

you smiled, “well she’s really pretty.”

ni-ki deeply chuckled, “no fraternizing with humans, remember?”

“i mean you can talk to her, just not alone, okay?” you stopped in front of ni-ki’s class building and patted his shoulders. “do good in class. learn something!”

ni-ki groaned and you happily skipped off.

once you were gone, ni-ki walked into the building, and soon the blonde girl was beside him, cutting him off as she stood in front of him.

“i know what you are, blood sucker. and i know what you did.” she smirked and walked off towards class.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

meanwhile when close to 11 came, you made it to the class jay was a teaching assistant for, and just on time. you sat in the back while 96% of the girls in the class sat up front. mainly to ogle jay.

“we’ve missed this class!” one girl shouted.

“i was so sad when classes got canceled.” another shouted.

one girl argued, “it was for our safety though! i hope that creep is found!”

your heart sank knowing they were talking about ni-ki. jay and sunghoon had warned you and the other boys, people will be talking and saying rude things, but to not take it personally or say anything aloud.

“let’s get class started, shall we?” the professor of the class cleared his throat and began his lecture. as the girls attention was glued to jay and his jawline, jays attention was glued to you as you focused on the lecture.

jay hates the fact you don’t make flirty eyes with him in class, but you told him and the other guys, your studies come first. they respected you for that.

class ended 50 minutes later, and your next class wasn’t until 2, so you agreed to meet your roommate for lunch.

without bothering to say goodbye to jay, since he was busy with the girl students in class, you made your way towards the student center where most of the food options were.

while walking down the path you saw a familiar blonde from earlier. and once again, she was staring at you.

you walked up to her as other students passed, going along their day. “is there a reason you keep staring at me?”

the girl smiled and stuck out her hand. “im eunchae.”

“im—,”

“i know who you are.” she cut you off and stood up. “i also know what you are to those blood suckers.”

as eunchae went to walk away you grabbed her hand, “wait—,”

“don’t worry im not going to tell anyone.” she shook her head. “just know those boys don’t care about you. they give you precious attention now, but what happens in a few years? you get older and what, they stay the same age? they won’t have you as their precious feeding tube much longer. they’ll throw you to the curb sooner or later.”

you were too stunned to speak, and eunchae walked off. when you came to your senses, you walked to meet your roommate for food.

“hey, are you okay?” she asked and you mindlessly nodded, picking at your food. you were currently rethinking, and over analyzing your conversation with eunchae.

what would happen once they were done? you did get older and they wouldn’t, right? you weren’t their first human to primarily feed on and you won’t be the last. how many others have jay and sunghoon roped into this? how many others did they call love and baby doll and treated so well? would they erase your memory once they were done? would they just pack up and leave without telling you? would they kill you?

your mind raced and you felt so sick. “i think im gonna skip my 2 pm class. im not feeling well.” you stated while packing up. you would take the remainder of your food with you.

your roommate looked at you with concern. “okay, get some rest!”

you nodded with all your things and walked to the one place you might get answers. the guys house. and with them all being on campus until at least 4, you would have time to snoop for answers.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

ni-ki was walking on campus when he spotted the blonde girl from earlier. he’s had two classes with her and each time she’s ignored him.

she was lying on a blanket on the grass reading as ni-ki walked up.

“we need to talk.”

“aren’t you not supposed to be around humans alone?”

ni-ki looked around. technically they weren’t alone, there were other students scattered about. “is this a test?”

the girl closed her book and sat up from her lying position. “a test?”

“did jay or sunghoon put you up to this?” ni-ki asked annoyed. did they really not trust him that much?

the girl shook her head but patted the spot next to her. “sit down riki.”

ni-ki’s jaw nearly hit the ground. riki was his birth name, but he always went by ni-ki. only certain people know his name is riki or even call him that.

ni-ki sat down on the blanket.

“im eunchae.” she held out her hand and ni-ki shook it. “and no, the guys didn’t put me up to anything.”

“then how—?” ni-ki couldn’t even finish his sentence as he was so confused. eunchae laughed.

“let’s just say, im not a vampire, but a supernatural creature as well.”

ni-ki’s eyes went wide as he looked at eunchae. “what kind of supernatural creature?”

“ever heard of a seraphim?” eunchae asked. “we’re also known as fallen angels.”

“oh.” ni-ki said. “what is it that you do?”

eunchae smiled, “maybe i can tell you that later tonight.”

ni-ki frowned, “i have to be home by 5.”

“yikes they put you on that much of a strict curfew because you lost control and fed on a human?” eunchae faked gasped. “just ignore it.”

“i—i can’t.”

“what are you gonna do, suck my blood? i promise my blood will not taste good.” eunchae said and stood up grabbing her book. ni-ki followed.

eunchae added, “i’ll also make sure you don’t feed on any innocent people.” eunchae promised with her hand up and her big eyes round and her lashes batting.

“you aren’t a good influence.”

“im a fallen angel riki. and i never said i would be a good influence.”

“how can i trust you’re telling the truth?”

“you can’t, that’s the thrilling the part.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you arrived to the guys house and immediately went up to the library. the library had old books so it had to have something from jay and sunghoons past.

you searched and searched the shelves, not finding anything much helpful. you found a few books on the lore of vampires and made note to look at those later.

your attention turned to the desk. as you opened the drawers, you found a photo book. bingo.

but as you opened it, it was empty.

“love, why aren’t you in class?” at the sound of jay’s unexpected voice, you literally screamed. your heart rate was definitely up, but you took a few deep breaths.

“i wasn’t feeling well. so i came here, to my favorite place.” you smiled hoping jay bought your lie. since your heart rate was already up from being startled, he wouldn’t notice the difference because of your lie.

jays eyes soften. “aw love come here.” he waved for you to leave the comfort of the library into his awaiting arms.

you gave him a hug in the threshold. he smelt so good. you sighed into his chest. “wait, how did you know i wasn’t in class?”

“i went to look for you. i know we aren’t to interfere with your studies so i was gonna ask if i could feed before or after class.”

“how was you going to feed before my class?”

“take you to my office.” jay smirked and your face felt hot.

“well im here now.”

jay frowned, “but you aren’t feeling well.”

you shook your head, “im a bit better. honestly i just didn’t want to go to class and hear more people talk about what happened.”

jay held you closer, rubbing your back. he kissed the side of your head. “thanks for caring about us love, but people will talk, okay? we’ll get through it.”

you nodded and jay led you to his room. “are you sure you’re up for it, love?”

you nodded, and took your shirt off throwing it somewhere in his room then began unbuttoning your jeans.

“hey!” jay scolded. “undressing you is one of my favorite things.” he pouted and you laughed taking your hands off your button.

jay took his time undressing you, kissing every inch of your body, giving light nibbles up your thighs, stomach and chest.

his lips made its way to your lips for a deep and slow kiss. jay was always so gentle and romantic and sometimes you wish he wasn’t. you always wondered deep inside if he had a hardcore dominant side of him.

when you two made eye contact, you asked, “jay, why are you always so gentle with me?”

jay smiled, “honestly, because if anyone of us goes full force you genuinely may not be able to walk for a while.”

“what if that’s something i want?” you teased.

jay shook his head with a smile, “maybe on a day where you don’t have class for the next few days, okay?”

your hands ran through jays hair, “what’s the most public place you’ve had sex? i mean you’ve been a vampire for so long, there has to be somewhere interesting you’ve done it.”

“penthouse balcony.” jay replied. before you could reply further, jays fingers snuck down to your core, and entered your pussy, earning a low moan from your mouth.

he kissed and sucked your neck while his 2 fingers entered in and out of you, all while his thumb laid pressure and lazy circles on your clit. he had to get you pretty ready for him as although jay didn’t have inches, but he sure enough had thickness to his cock.

“so wet for me.” jay whispered in your ear and pulled is fingers out when he thought you were wet enough for him. giving you one last kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance and slowly entered you. you immediately felt the stretch, as he placed your legs on either side of his waist so you could feel him deeper. “i don’t think you’re ready for the damage i could do to you in bed, love.”

that earned another moan from you, “yes—yes i could.” you stuttered as jay was rocking his hips to yours, sounds of skin slapping the only noise to be heard.

jay sat up so he could hold your legs straight up, them vertical against his chest. this position offered a new feeling and ways for him to satisfy you, and he picked up the pace, your ass becoming red with the speed of his thighs hitting them.

spews of profanities left your lips at this new sensation and feeling. you loved it. your hands gripped the sheets to his bed, as jay held you in place. you were close and jay could feel it.

he pulled out, you hissed at the loss of contact, almost in tears when jay helped you get on your hands and knees for him to fuck you from behind. no warning, he bottomed out, a louder than usual moan leaving your mouth, the front of his body connecting with your back, and his lips finding your neck, his favorite spot.

his vampire teeth sunk into your skin, and you let out a moan of pain followed by a groan of pleasure, groaning jays name over and over, encouraging him to pick up his pace and chase both of your orgasms. soon, you felt jay release his come into you, and he slowed down, his vampire teeth retracting as he licked where he fed.

you were so thankful that although he could come, you couldn’t get pregnant since his sperm was dead.

you collapsed on your front on the bed, trying to catch your breath. although you know jay didn’t go full out, he did go harder than usual. jay rubbed your back, his breath already returning to normal, as he put on pants and covered you up with his sheets and comforter.

he looked down so he could face you, “are you okay?”

you nodded. once your brain fog from the orgasm started to go away, you remembered the whole reason why you were even there.

you turned around to face jay who was sitting on his bed next to you scrolling on his phone.

“jay?”

“mhm?” he hummed and looked to give you his attention.

“what happens when yall are done with me?”

jay pouted in confusion. “love, what do you mean?”

you sighed and sat up, covering yourself with the sheets. “i mean when you all are done using me as a human blood bank. do yall kick me to the curb? pack up and leave without telling me? kill me?”

“love, where is this coming from?”

“don’t—don’t call me love right now.”

“where is this coming from? why all of a sudden are you thinking about this?”

“jay, i gotta think about my future, okay? unlike you all, i get older, okay. i will eventually meet the love of my life, get married, have kids,”

“absolutely not.” jay stated, his tone darker than usual. when you looked him in the eyes you realized his eyes were red.

“jay—,”

“you belong to us and only us.”

“jay that’s not fair,” you said, “i can’t be at your beck and call.”

“yes you can and you will.”

“what happens when yall are done with me?”

“we won’t be.”

“then are you gonna turn me to keep me young?” you argued.

jays eyes went back to normal and his face softened, “no. i don’t turn people unless their life depends on it.”

you got up quickly from the bed, “jay, this makes no sense! how are you gonna say i belong to yall only, but not tell me what my future will look like?”

jay tried to reach for you but you pulled away. was you being unreasonable? you didn’t know and you didn’t care. you just know eunchae had you thinking more about this situation you got yourself in.

you looked around for your clothes, and immediately started to get dressed. “i need to go. i need to go home and think.”

“love,”

“NO!” you yelled to stop jay. “just no.”

you finished dressing as jay watched. your belongings were in the library so you walked down the hall to grab your bag and uneaten food. jay was following you around the house.

“im leaving. i don’t think this is a good idea anymore.” you said as you walked down the steps and that perked jays ears as well as sunghoon who happened to be listening.

“baby doll,” sunghoon began and it slightly startled you as you turned to look at both men. they both looked hurt, but angry at the same time.

“love, you belong to us, end of story,”

“not end of story jay, fuck you!”

“baby doll, behave.”

“and fuck you too sunghoon!”

you stormed out of the house, hearing jay tell sunghoon “let her go, for now.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you held back tears as you walked around campus. you weren’t ready to go back to your dorm just in case one of the guys were waiting for you.

but it wouldn’t matter, they could probably track you by your scent. they’ve always said you were different.

“did they hurt you?” for the what, third time today? a voice startled you.

you looked behind you and saw eunchae. “no.” you shook your head then shrugged, “i don’t know.”

“come with me, i have some girls you might want to meet.”

you wiped your tears, “huh?”

“trust me.” eunchae smiled. “plus i think the person i arranged to meet at 5 won’t show up.”

ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 13

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 6,500

Tags/Warnings: Peril, hurt/comfort, angst, and a deal… 

Part 13: A Generous Deal

Frank, Ben’s former henchman, gave you a quirking smile.

Beside him was Loco, who tossed you a wink. He carried a semi-automatic weapon in his hands. 

“You look good, corazón,” Loco said, reaching for your sister. “Let’s get you guys out of here, no?”

“Who the hell is trying to kill us?” Louisa said, accepting his hand after you guided her up from the ground. Frank covered you all while firing back at the shooters. 

Loco snorted in amusement. “Vought. Who else?” 

“Jesus, fuck,” you muttered. “What do they want with me? It’s Ben they were after.”

“Who’s Ben?” Louisa asked. Meanwhile, Loco guided you both out of the apartment and down the stairs. Frank covered you guys from the back as he followed. 

“El capitán, Soldier Boy,” Loco supplied as he pointed to himself and Frank with his gun, “Our boss.”

“Soldier Boy?!” Louisa shot you an incredulous look. You gave her a wan smile before you glared at Loco, pointing his gun away. 

“Watch where you aim that thing,” you reminded him. Loco just scoffed. He covered you when you stepped out of the apartment building, leading you to a black SUV parked illegally on the side of the road. 

Right now, you were grateful for that as bullets seemed to rain down from everywhere. But with Frank and Loco’s expertise, the four of you made it into the car. Frank was your chauffer, and he sped off down the street.

“How the hell are you alive?” you asked Frank. “You were shot point blank in the chest.” 

“Was wearing Kevlar,” he said. “And I was on V24.”

“So he fucked those mall cops in the ass with hot lead and broke me out of prison,” Loco supplied, shooting you a grin. 

You smiled back at him, but when you looked over at your sister, gripping the inside of the car door for dear life with petrified eyes, you grabbed her hand to steady her. 

You turned back to Frank. “We need to pick up my mom. If they’re after me too, then she’s not safe.”

“Where?” he asked. You gave him the address of the hospital where your mother worked. Frank turned a corner sharply in order to change course, making you grip the car handle yourself. 

“Jesus, Frank. Go a little smoother on the wheels, yeah?” Loco quipped. 

“You want a nice kiddy ride, or you want to get there alive?” Frank retorted. “We’ve got a narrow window, even less now that we’ve got a second stop.” 

“It’s not that far. Lower West Side,” you said. And you continued to instruct him through the New York traffic. He was an adept driver, but he wasn’t a New Yorker. You pointed out the best roads to take to get there within half an hour. 

Loco stayed with Louisa in the car (albeit, first with a lot of reassuring that she would be safe with this perfect stranger that she could only suspect was a criminal).

Frank escorted you inside, where you found your mom at the reception desk (thankfully) on the first floor. Her eyes lit up when she saw you. 

“Oh my God, you’re back! How are you, sweetheart? Oh, come here,” your mother said, getting up from her desk to pull you into a hug. You accepted it with a smile, but you grabbed her shoulders firmly and made her see the sense of urgency in your eyes. 

“Mom, I need you to come with me,” you said in hushed tones. She looked around, from you to her confused coworker at the desk beside her.

“What? Honey, I can’t. I’m at work—”

“Now, Mom. I’ll explain later.”

“Marie, you going on lunch break?” asked her coworker. 

“Yep, I’m taking her out,” you supplied, looping your mother’s arm with yours. “Come on! I found this cute little French bistro a few blocks away.”

“Honey,” your mom tried to whisper. She didn’t like the look of Frank hovering beside you. He was a tall man, broad and wearing a long black trench coat—and a gun concealed within. 

“Just trust me,” you told her, gripping her hand tight.  

Somehow you made it to the car without incident. But once the five of you were on the road, with all three women squished in the backseat, Louisa turned to you. 

“So you’re actually helping Soldier Boy now?” she asked, and with a sly raise of her brow, “Or should I say Ben?”

Your face began to heat up, but you clung to your stoicism. 

“Soldier Boy,” Marie gasped. “Didn’t he kill Homelander?”

“May that prick get fucked in the ass for all eternity in hell,” you muttered. Once again, your mother gasped. 

“Young lady. I don’t like that,” she said, with all due side eye. 

“You don’t like anything, Mother,” you quipped.

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to arrest him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. 

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.” 

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.” 

Louisa uttered an incredulous laugh while simultaneously freaking the fuck out, especially at the word captured.

“Excuse me?” said Marie. You gave the man a withering look.

“Don’t help me, Frank.”

An amused smile tugged at his lips. But then it was wiped away. 

“Incoming. Three tails,” he said. Loco looked in the side mirror, and his muttered curse was a confirmation: they were being followed. 

“Where are we headed?” you asked. 

“Supe Affairs,” Frank said. He took evasive measures, banking on corners and doing his best to beat the cars tailing them through traffic. 

Until the mid-size SUV was side swiped by an even larger black one. It slammed into your side of the car, making it spin out. You all screamed as the car flipped over once and managed to land. 

You had to blink drops of blood out of your double vision, but when it cleared, you saw Black Noir had landed on the hood of the car. Your eyes widened. 

Noir raised his gun and shot through the windshield, but while Loco shot right back at him, Frank put the car into reverse—into the path of a coming bus. 

He actually sped towards it. And at the last moment, he sharply turned the car to try and fling the supe off the hood. 

It worked, somewhat. Noir was forced to stop the bus from hitting him directly, causing the front of the bus to fold up like an accordion against his hands. And while he was distracted, Loco threw a projectile at the supe’s face. 

Noir caught it with ease, but he didn’t expect the way it erupted with nerve gas in his face. Before it could affect the normal humans in the car, Frank reversed again and finally managed to dislodge the supe. 

He turned the car around and was able to get the car back into Drive, but the entire windshield was gone, and breathing felt like agony once again. If you had to guess, it was your broken ribs flaring up after the initial impact. 

Your shoulder also ached like a bitch. You didn’t think it was dislocated, but at the very least, severely bruised.

Not broken, at least, you thought bitterly. 

“Oh my God. You okay?” Louisa asked, gasping once she looked over and saw you clutching your arm.

You could also feel blood dripping over your brow and down the side of your face. Your mom also had a knock to the side of her head, but she and Louisa looked more or less fine, if scared out of their minds. 

“I’m okay,” you said, giving them a reassuring smile. You directed it at Frank next, when he glanced back at you with concern.

You fished into your pocket and found your cell phone unscathed. Letting out a relieved breath, you found Grace Mallory’s personal cell in your contacts and started the call.

She picked up on the third ring. 

“Who is this?”

“Grace, it’s me. I—”

“How did you get this number?” she asked.

“Stole it from M.M.’s phone,” you replied impatiently. “Listen, I have a situation—”

“You’re already on thin ice,” she said. “This better be fucking good.”

At that, the narrow thread of your temper snapped.

“I’m playing bumper cars with Black Noir in the Lower West Side. How’s that for fucking good?” you said, raising your voice. “He’s trying to kill me and my entire family. I need your help, right now!”

A beat of silence, and Grace replied. 

“Understood. What are the cross streets?”

“We’re in a black SUV,” you replied, and you gave her the closest streets as they passed by. “We’re heading toward the S.A.”

“Backup will arrive shortly,” she said. Then she hung up on you. 

It was a good thing too, because you lost your grip on your cell when another car bumped into the SUV, this time from the driver’s side. Your eyes widened as you saw Black Noir again, this time with a grenade launcher. 

“Heads down!” you screamed, reaching for your sister.

Just as he would’ve shot at the car, a helicopter flew overhead and shot directly at the supe. CIA units swarmed in in various cars, and it allowed Frank the distraction he needed to slip away from the supe.

Frank and Loco escorted your family to the double doors of the Supe Affairs building. You hung back real quick once they were inside, knowing the men couldn’t go in. They would likely be apprehended. 

“Thank you,” you told them. Emotion made your eyes glassy. Loco gave you a smile and rubbed your non-injured shoulder.

“Just get yourself checked out,” Frank said. He gave you a scrap of paper with two cell phone numbers on it. 

“Reach us here if anything changes,” he said. With Soldier Boy, his tone implied. You nodded and took the numbers from him. Loco left to start up the car, but you grabbed Frank’s arm, holding him back a minute.

“Why’d you come find me?” you asked. “You guys…didn’t owe me anything. You don’t even owe Ben.”

“He does technically owe us,” Frank said. 

You nodded at that. “Well, you could just cut your losses…is it that good a payout?”

His dry smile told you yes, it would be that good.  

“But that doesn’t explain me,” you pointed out.

Frank considered you, as if contemplating the reason himself. 

“We knew if Soldier Boy was going to break out, it would be because of you,” he said. “We happened to be watching you when we saw Black Noir casing your building.”

“Doesn’t totally explain why you’d risk your lives for me,” you said. 

Frank seemed uncomfortable with the question. So you let him off the hook with a smile. 

“Thank you. Again,” you said. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

His lips curved at that. “Me too, kid.”

You ushered your mom and sister through the S.A. building, ignoring the odd and concerned looks from people going about their workday.

You knew the three of you made quite a sight, especially when your face was literally dripping blood, and your arm was pinned to your side. 

You noticed Butcher striding down the hall with M.M., and you called out to him loudly.

“Still think Black Noir isn’t a fucking priority?” you shouted.

Both men noticed you in surprise, but while Butcher was mostly curious, M.M. was concerned. You then ignored them and started guiding your family up to Grace’s office. 

As it turned out, you didn’t have to. She stepped off the elevator and led the three of you into a private office. She had already requested an on-call doctor for you, and he was there waiting with his supplies. 

Marie helped you into a chair, where you let out a shaky breath. The doctor came over to check your shoulder, during which Marie stroked your good arm and Luisa brushed your sweaty hair from your face.

“Not broken or dislocated,” he confirmed. “Just bruised. You’ll need to ice it for a few days.”

“What happened?” Grace asked at last. You met her blue-eyed gaze.

“I told you. Black Noir tried to kill us. I assume I was the target, because he found me at my apartment,” you said with a wince, rubbing at your aching ribs while the doctor wrapped your arm in a temporary sling. He next worked on blotting and stitching up your head wound, which he remarked was shallower than it seemed.

What you needed were some painkillers. 

“I want my mom and my sister placed in protective custody,” you told Grace. 

Both women protested at first. 

“What are you going to do?” Luisa asked incredulously. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

“We’ll take care of this,” you tried to reassure her. 

“And what about school? I can’t just drop out for God-knows how long.”

“I’ll talk to NYU, get them to let you complete your classes online.”

“What about me? My job isn’t so flexible,” Marie pointed out. You frowned, at a loss for what to say. Your guilt was growing by the moment; not only had your family been put in danger because of you, but their lives were about to be completely uprooted. 

“We’ll work it out with your employer as well,” Grace said. 

You gave her an appreciative look. Grace could be a bitch, but it seemed she wasn’t a complete asshole.

When you turned back to your family, hot tears welled up in your eyes and slid down your cheeks unbidden. 

“I’m so sorry,” you choked on a sob. “This is on me.”

Luisa tearfully shook her head, holding your hand. Your mom was in a similar state as she wiped your tears away. 

“I just want you to be safe,” Marie said. “Promise me you’ll be safe.” 

You nodded, but you couldn’t force yourself to lie to her this time. 

In a few hours, you saw your mother and sister off as Grace directed them into protective custody. They would be taken to a safe house tonight, and would remain there until the matter of Black Noir was settled. 

You were exhausted, in pain, and emotionally spent, and you were going to need a safe house of your own. But you agreed to spend the night here at the S.A. building, where there were cots available upstairs for when supes where occasionally held overnight. 

You debated the idea growing your mind, whether it would be good for you in this moment…

But you couldn’t help yourself. 

You had to see him. 

Your steps were slow, but you eventually made it to the “cellar.” 

The guards raised their brows at the state of you, still with dried blood, bruises, and your arm in a temporary sling. Your hard gaze warned them to mind their fucking business. 

“Open it up,” you said, raising an expectant brow. After glancing at one another, one of the guards shrugged. He pressed the button to disengage the outer walls, which parted for your entry. 

You stepped inside, this time grateful for the way those walls closed behind you. You knew the guards would be watching regardless, but the semblance of privacy was enough for you.

Ben was sitting up in his cot, back against the wall with his arms crossed. The stance was familiar to you; he was probably awake, but trying not to fall asleep due to the nerve gas making him drowsy. 

His eyes opened when he heard you coming. His mouth opened, poised to be snarky, until he actually caught sight of you. Whatever acidic words he’d been about to say died on his tongue as he took in your injuries, from stitched and bandaged head to your arm in a sling. 

He got up and approached you, until only the glass separated you two by a few feet. 

“What the fuck happened?” he asked. His voice was gruff, but you thought you detected concern behind his green eyes. 

“Black Noir,” you rasped.

You explained to him what happened from the very beginning. Your sister showing up at your apartment, followed by Noir shooting at you, then Frank and Loco showing up to extract you from the building.

“Those fuckers are still alive?” Ben noted with surprise. You could see that he was pleased by the news, and you smiled. 

“Yeah, they saved me,” you admitted. But then, your lips trembled. “Black Noir tried to take me out. Me and my whole family.”

Ben watched you tear up, his jaw tightening. The fury lighting in his blood gave him new energy as he contemplated just how slowly and painfully he’d take Stan Edgar apart for this. He had no right to sick that damn bootlicker on you. 

And probably just to get to him.

Ben began to pace. He had no other way to vent his frustration, other than hurling up his cot against the wall with a guttural sound of rage. (Which he did, not seeing how it made you flinch.)

He was in this cage, and meanwhile, you were out there. Unprotected. Taking bullets that should be his…and his alone. 

He wiped a hand over his mouth and looked back at you. You were wide-eyed, vulnerable, not sure what to make of his reaction. 

Ben wanted to continue blaming you for his imprisonment…but deep down, he knew you weren’t the one who put him here. He also knew why you wouldn’t break him out either. 

You were stubborn about your convictions—something that frustrated him to no end. But ultimately, he admired you for how you always held your ground, even against him. 

Especially against him.

But right now, you looked exhausted, in pain. He just couldn’t do anything about it. And that irritated him, he discovered.

“Did your dad order the hit?” he asked. “Stan said he was still alive.”

You tilted your head, like you hadn’t thought of that before. Despite your lingering tears, your expression briefly became cold as stone.  

“If my father knew about this, he’s a dead man,” you said.  

Ben inclined his head in agreement. It looked like even you had a limit on what was forgivable.

You sighed and stepped closer to the cell. You implored him, first with your eyes, and then with the truth. 

“Ben, I need your help,” you said. “As long as Stan Edgar and Vought still stand, it’s a target on your back. Now it’s on mine too. My mom, and my sister. Please.” 

Ben seemed to consider it, as his gaze left your face. 

Then, he came up closer to the glass window. 

“Call your boss. Tell her it’s time for a talk,” he said. 

You sighed in relief, covering your eyes with a hand as your tears fell anew. You looked up at Ben, trying and failing to get ahold of yourself. 

“Thank you,” you said.

Ben’s anger crumbled that much more. He sighed and pressed a fist up to the glass on his side to lean against it. You laid a hand against the glass, opposite his. 

His eyes met yours. As resentment drained out of him, slowly, his fingers uncurled. 

His hand laid on the glass in line with your smaller hand. You could almost pretend the window didn’t exist between you, and the cold glass under your palm was really his. A moment later, Ben let his hand fall and returned to his cot. 

Soon, you wanted to tell him. 

You would make sure of it. 

Grace’s heels clacked on the metal ground as the fortified barriers disengaged, allowing her entrance into the observing area of Soldier Boy’s cell. 

The man himself looked up at her from where he sat on his cot, his hair falling over his brows. He straightened and stood, and he met her at the forefront of the cell.

She stopped a foot behind the glass and crossed her arms. Ben’s gaze seized her up lazily—the gray pantsuit and white blouse, the coif of blonde hair piled on her head, the light layer of lipstick across her thin lips. She looked even less fun now than she had in the 80s. 

“You’ve gotten old as fuck,” he remarked. 

“As I hear it, a few wrinkles don’t bother you in the slightest,” she countered. 

His lips curved. He’d never fuck this broad on mere principle, but she was still easy on those baby blues. 

“So,” she began, “Two options. One: you can sleep in here forever, until you look as old as I am. Or two: you’ll work with my team to bring down Vought, on our terms. Which means executing approved targets only. Collateral damage kept to a narrow minimum.”

Her gaze was unyielding, clinical at best. 

“Operate within the confines of the law. And if by some miracle you pull all of that off…you can publicly retire to South America, never to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said.

“We will leave you alone, provided you don’t actively create havoc. And if you deviate from the plan in any way, we will hunt you down and bring you right back here. You will never know peace.”

Ben stared at her, almost amused at her audacity. “That’s your idea of a goddamn deal?”

She ignored him, her expression turning thoughtful. 

“Oh, yes,” Grace said, a finger tapping on her arm, as if she just remembered something. She mentioned your name, making Ben’s brows furrow.

“Should you fuck up your end of this generous deal, I will also personally make sure that you never see her again,” she said. 

Ben’s jaw tensed, his green eyes narrowing a fraction. 

But he figured his best play here was to bluff.

“What makes you think I give a flying fuck about that?” he said snidely. 

For the first time, a bit of humor lightened Grace as her mouth tugged at a smile.

“Actually, it seems you do. And a great deal of one,” she said. “That you’re considering this agreement at all is because of her.”

Ben’s lips pressed together.

“The fact of the matter is, Benjamin, I can make her disappear,” she stated, “even more thoroughly than I’ll bury you if you cross me.”

That threat nearly unhinged him. A vein pulsed in his neck as he ground his teeth.

But he managed to keep his cool, smooth as he crossed his arms and stared back at this platinum-haired bitch. 

“See, you can talk big behind that glass. But the truth is, you need me,” he said. “All you bitches do. And you’re all afraid of me. So if you want to threaten me, by all means…just don’t forget who the fuck I am.” 

M.M. carefully watched the archive footage from yesterday between you and Ben from his laptop. He saw the shift in the supe when you walked in, battered with your arm in a temporary sling. M.M. watched the man’s anger build, but for you instead of at you. 

By the time he made it to the end, watching Ben’s hand meet yours on his side of the glass, M.M. sat back in his seat and frowned, resting his chin in his hand. What the hell…

Maybe Soldier Boy did give a fuck about someone other than himself. 

M.M.’s phone buzzed, breaking him out of his reverie. It was Grace. 

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Team meeting,” she said, instructing him to head up to a conference room on the third floor in ten minutes. Sighing, M.M. closed his laptop and made his way up.

Annie and Hughie were already there, followed by Frenchie and Kimiko, and finally Butcher, strolling in to make his entrance as always. 

You were the only one not in attendance, having gone back to full-time in the Surveillance department. Though considering what happened yesterday with Black Noir, he was surprised you weren’t here…

But once Grace started the meeting, explaining what had become of her meeting with Soldier Boy, M.M.’s already precarious mood darkened even further. 

“It’s an insane fucking deal,” Butcher agreed, breaking the steely silence of the room following Grace’s little report. “But it’s one we’ve made before.”

“You’ve made before,” Annie retorted. “This is crazy. We can’t trust Soldier Boy.”

“But we all know who does,” M.M. said. His gaze shifted to the door, where you had just stepped in. It seemed you were invited to the meeting after all.

You were late, quite literally holding Starbucks. It looked like a caramel macchiato, iced, light froth. You sipped it through a green straw and took a seat beside Frenchie, who offered you a smile as he smoked a cigarette. You returned it before you addressed the group.

“Take my personal stake out of the equation,” you said. 

“So you admit it’s personal,” M.M. remarked. You shot him a glance, but you didn’t let him deter you from your point. 

“Ben is our best play against Black Noir. That’s just a fact,” you said. “He was cloned in part with Homelander’s DNA.” 

“Okay, sure,” Hughie said. “Despite all the…potential logistics problems there, what about Stan Edgar? He’s been one step ahead of us this entire time.”

That was a fair point, one you acknowledged with a nod. 

“I think we should look into Victoria Neuman. She turned on Stan once to protect herself, who’s to say she won’t again?” you said. 

“Or, she’ll pop our heads like water balloons,” Frenchie pointed out, letting out a puff of his cigarette. Hughie frowned and waved his hand across the plume.

“Do you have to do that right in my face?” he asked. Frenchie blew a kiss (and a small ring of smoke) at Hughie with a playful smirk. 

Again, you smiled. “Ben can help with that too.” 

Most of them didn’t like the idea. Annie and Kimiko frowned, while Hughie looked unsure. Frenchie might’ve been persuaded…

Butcher actually seemed to agree with you, shockingly. He looked over at M.M., whose stance in all this was obvious.

“You wanna make things safe for your daughter, taking out Vought is fucking it,” Butcher said. It wasn’t what you expected him to say…but maybe the men had had this argument before. 

M.M. was tense, his hand clenching into a fist on the conference table. 

“You don’t have to tell me that shit,” M.M. said tersely. He looked up at Mallory. “I’m assuming as a part of this fuck-ass deal, Soldier Boy walks free after all this is said and done?”

Grace confirmed this with a short nod, though you could see she wasn’t happy about it either. 

“After the work is done, he won’t be allowed to step foot in the U.S. again,” she said. 

You frowned, upset at that little footnote, but you held in your reaction as you watched M.M. rise out of his seat, his chair roughly sliding against the ground. He dented the table with a heavy fist as he strode out of the conference room.  

Ben rolled his eyes as he took the contract. It had been laid on the tray compartment where his meals were usually slotted through.

You, Grace, and Butcher stood on the other side of his cell. You also thought the contract was stupid; you all knew if Ben didn’t comply with this arrangement, a measly piece of paper wasn’t going to do shit. But Mallory was nothing if not thorough. 

He signed it with the pen and shoved both back through the slot. Mallory collected it and turned at Butcher, and then you with her sharp eyes. 

“On your head be it,” she said. Then she departed the cell, where the additional fortifying walls were left open. With a raised brow, Butcher signaled to the guards to cut the nerve gas. 

Once the mist cleared from the inner cell, Ben took his first real breath in a week. He blinked as the heavy fog he’d been resisting for days cleared, and he stood straighter. His green eyes were on you as the cell finally disengaged, sliding open with a hiss. 

You bit your lower lip as he stepped through barefooted. He still wore the clinically white clothing the S.A. provided, like he was the inmate of a psych ward or something. He eyed Butcher warily.

“Ello, gov. Back in business again,” said the Brit. Ben rolled his eyes. 

“Just stay out of my fucking way,” he replied. 

You wanted to pull him into your arms already. But professionalism be damned, you didn’t want to show your vulnerability around Butcher.

Instead, you held up a plastic bag of clothes and shoes for him to change into, meeting him with a smile. The tightness in his face eased a bit when he glanced over at you, then took the bag with a nod.

“Hungry?” you asked. 

Ben’s lips curved into a smirk. “I could eat.” 

You felt heat flare in your face as your mouth dropped open slightly.

Butcher rose a brow as he glanced between you two. He chose to ignore the supe’s blatant eye-fucking. He just wanted to get this over with.

“First off, let’s get something squared away,” Butcher said. 

He then turned his head and released a wet cough that didn’t sound pleasant. The man also looked pale, and if you thought about it, he hadn’t been looking well in the meeting earlier either. You gave him a concerned frown.

“You okay?” you asked. Butcher gave you a side glance.

“Fucking phenomenal. Here.”

He provided Ben with an S.A.-issued cell phone, and you with the address of a safe house.

“His and hers,” Butcher said, handing you the keys. You understood his meaning; since Black Noir was after you as well, it made enough sense to put you and Ben in the same safe house.

“Now, lest you think of pulling another Houdini act, it won’t hurt to remind you that you will be watched,” he said to both of you (but mainly Ben). “I myself, along with other agents, will be checking in from time to time, making sure everything’s on the up and up.”

“Whatever, are we fucking done?” Ben snapped with impatience. He started walking out of the cellar, towards the open door that showed the brighter lit hallway. Once he stepped out though, he wasn’t sure where to go. 

You gave Butcher a parting look before you caught up with Ben in the hall. You laid a hand on his arm and led him to the nearest bathroom so he could change while you waited outside. You texted with the agent that would be your driving detail, making sure the car would be ready. 

After a few minutes of waiting though, you began to get antsy and impatient yourself. You went to the bathroom door and knocked, opening it a crack. 

“Ben, you okay?”

“Yeah. Come in,” he said. 

You paused, not sure if that was a good idea. But you also didn’t know why that was your instinctive thought.

Taking a breath to steady yourself, you hesitantly opened the door to the men’s bathroom and stepped inside. Ben was already dressed, just fixing his belt.

He wore a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain black shirt, and some boots. It wasn’t his normal look, but even this suited him well. He stretched out the shirt in all the right places, particularly the arms. 

But you blushed as you noticed the smirk on his face; he’d totally caught you checking him out. 

“Well, that answers my question,” he remarked.

Your lips flickered at a smile as you drew closer. 

Looks good, you were about to tell him, but nothing came out. Your voice got stuck in your throat as you looked up at him. It seemed this moment was finally hitting you. 

There was still so much unknown shit on the horizon, between Black Noir, Victoria Neuman, Stan Edgar, your family in protective custody, and all the rest. But at least you had helped accomplish one thing today. 

Your eyes stung as they welled up with tears, and you bit your bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. 

The smirk on Ben’s face faded. But then his brose rose in surprise as you surged forward and caught him in a hug. Your arms slipped around his middle, and his arms fell around your frame, mostly on instinct. 

When he felt your tears dampening his shirt, heard you crying softly, felt the tremble in your body, he collected you tighter against him, his hands splaying across your back. Something in his chest clenched up…but then it eased. He dropped his lips to your hair. 

“What’s this now?” he asked, somewhat teasing. You shook your head against his chest, not willing to answer. His hand fell to your waist and gave you a squeeze. 

“Come on, baby doll,” he said. He grinned a little, though you couldn’t see it. “Where’s that steely bitch who didn’t cut me any fucking slack this week?”    

You choked on a laugh, despite the tears still slipping down your cheeks. 

“She’s a good actor,” you replied. Ben chuckled and soothed a hand over your hair. It gave you hope that he didn’t resent you too much. You were just so damn relieved. 

“I’m sorry this couldn’t happen sooner,” you whispered. You weren’t sorry for not breaking ranks to get him out, but he had to know you’d never wanted him to go from one cage to another.

Ben’s grin faded. He stayed quiet, unsure of what to say to you. 

After a moment, your cell phone chimed and buzzed in your pocket. Sniffling, you pulled away from him enough to reach into your pocket and read the text. 

“The driver’s ready to take us to the safe house,” you said, pocketing your phone. But you still clung to his shirt with your other hand. You were also avoiding his gaze. Embarrassed, maybe.

It made him smile. He tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, prompting you to finally look up at him. He then bucked a gentle fist under your chin. 

It got a small smile on your face, because you knew then that he didn’t hate you. The rage and contempt he’d levied at you this week, it hadn’t been the real him. This was the man you’d held out for…the man you’d caught glimmers of over the past two months. 

Ben cleared his throat.

“Well. You ready, sweetheart?” he asked, raising a brow. You nodded and let go of him, wiping your face to make sure it was dry before you stepped outside. 

Once the two of you left the bathroom, you led him out of the S.A. building. The car was waiting, another mid-sized SUV, and the driver transported you both to the safe house, which looked like it was going to be outside the city. 

Makes sense, you thought. You turned to Ben, who sat with you in the back. 

“How do you feel?” you asked. Still drowsy? 

He didn’t look it. The moment the Novichok cleared the cell, he seemed to regain his faculties. Now, you were more concerned about the potential psychological effects. You were worried about how the past week might’ve set him back.

But Ben only gave you a wry curve of his lips.

“Like a million bucks,” he replied. His gaze roamed over you, noting your healing cuts and bruises from the car chase yesterday. 

“You’re not wearing the sling,” he commented. You rubbed your bruised shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, downplaying a little. 

Pain meds were doing wonders for you though. Frenchie had slipped you some of the “good stuff” this morning, which had the added benefit of chilling you out for hours. You had come off it a while ago, but you had some normal painkillers in your suitcase. 

You’d been escorted home to collect some of your things, and the suitcase now laid in the trunk. You felt bad that Ben didn’t have anything but the clothes on his back…but you were sure the CIA would provide other things for him once you two got to the safe house. 

Ben surprised you, however, by thumbing an outline around the butterflied cut on your head as he examined it. “Doesn’t look deep.”

“It’s not,” you agreed, blushing a little. “I’m fine, Ben.”

His gaze found yours then, sharp as always. His mouth twitched. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said. His voice was a rumble, deep and filled with promise. Your cheeks warmed further as you tilted your head at him. 

“What does that mean?” you asked. A smile started to tug at your lips. 

Ben just smirked and crossed his arms, facing the road ahead. You eyed him, but a trill of anticipation ran down your spine. 

It seemed like a small eternity until you reached the safe house, several miles out into Upstate New York. It was a modest, one-story house in the middle of a gated community. 

The outside walls were painted beige with a brown trim. The driveway paved with cobblestone, with a little walkway flanked by small bushes with little red flowers. It was the perfect unassuming place to house the most famous supe alive.  

The driver left you with your bags, which Ben grabbed before you could barely reach out your good arm. He flashed you a grin and waited for you to unlock the front door. 

“Home sweet home,” you breathed as you stepped past the threshold. Your hands fell to your hips while you surveyed your surroundings. 

Behind you, the suitcase and the small duffel bag dropped to the floor. You started to turn towards him, but apparently you weren’t fast enough on the uptake—as Ben hooked an arm around your waist and spun you around.

Before you could even blink, your back was pressed against the door. You’d clung to him on instinct as a gasp fell from your lips. But you looked up into Ben’s smirk, his heated eyes filled with desire, and maybe a flash of relief. 

You felt it too. The sweet craving fulfilled of finally being alone, as he claimed you with a kiss. You made a sound of pleasure, of acceptance as your hand rose to his cheek. 

Your fingers soon slid into his hair as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss. 

Ben braced himself against the door hard enough to shake it on its hinges. It was all you could do to hold onto his arms as his knee pressed between your legs, finding friction against your jeans.

Being with him was a relief, you discovered. And having him inside you was starting to feel like home.

AN: 😏 I know, I'm terrible for ending it there, huh? What did you think of their little reunion here?

Don't worry though, next chapter is the real reunion.

Next Time:

“You need a trim,” you said, letting out a breathy laugh. You kissed his cheek again. Slow, and with purpose. 

Ben let out a sigh through his nose. His eyes closed again at your gentler kisses, your touch. Maybe he reveled in this—being able to hold you back. It felt right. 

If he was honest with himself (and this time, he was), you were somehow able to ease the frayed edges of his mind. Edges that had been starting to unravel in that cell. 

Keep Reading: PART 14

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Slice Of Normal

Summary: The reader has just moved to Montana to live with her estranged father and out of a place where she no longer feels welcome. But it's been a long time since the pair have lived together and while Beau might think things can slip back to normal, it's not quite that easy...

Pairing: dad!Beau x daughter!reader

Word Count: 5,000ish

Warnings: language, family angst, divorce, mention of murder case

A/N: Here's a little Beau and daughter!reader for the first time!

_____

“Hey, kiddo,” said your dad as you tossed your backpack in the backseat. “How was school?”

“Fine,” you forced out, pilling into the front, glaring out the windshield. You felt his heated stare but he dropped it, pulling out of the line of cars at pick up and heading for home. He tapped his fingers against the wheel, words clearly on the tip of his tongue. But once again he didn’t say anything. 

Sometimes it was like living with a damn stranger.

Two years ago, life was normal. Your parents were married. Dad had a good job as a cop. Mom was doing her consulting. Every day you went home to two parents. You had the same friends you had your whole life. You got a starbucks with your mom every Saturday morning and you made homemade pizzas for dinner. You watched trash reality shows with your dad and you’d both get way too invested in the petty drama. It was all perfectly normal.

Until he went to work one day and it went to hell. Dad’s partner was killed and he blamed himself for not stopping it. He was…strange after that. He still asked about school and your day, still watched your shitty shows with you. But there was no joy in him. He felt guilty and dad wasn’t much of one for sharing his own feelings. You knew he’d get better with time. 

That’s when things got strange with mom too. She started to pick fights with him. She kept trying to force him to go to some expensive trauma therapist. All three of you knew he was hurting but she was the only one that said he was broken. You’d never forget the look on his face when she barked it at him in a fight. 

Watching one parent fall out of love with another in front of your own eyes was your own strange experience. You knew in that moment she’d left a mark on him, one that’d make him shutdown even more, hold even more feelings back from her. There’d be more fights. More snide comments. She’d get fed up and divorce him.

Four months after the shootout, she handed him the divorce papers and a flip switched in him. He started to fight back, the both of them bickering and arguing so much you found yourself storming downstairs and yelling at them both to act like adults. Dad moved out not long after that and within a month mom had a new boyfriend.

You stuck it out until last week before you knew you’d go crazy if you stayed in that house, your house, with her and that guy for one more second. 

Which meant moving halfway across the country to fucking Montana to live with a guy you hadn’t seen in person in six months.

“Mom’s marrying her boyfriend,” you said when he stopped at a red light. You didn’t look at him, sure he once again didn’t know what to say. “That’s why I wanted to move here. He doesn’t give two shits about me but he fakes it real good when she’s around.”

“Your mother should know-”

“She doesn’t listen to me when I try to talk and I’m sick of it. I know you know she’s like that,” you said, turning your head. He glanced down, gaze back on the road. “She’s a bitch.”

“Hey. Don’t talk about your mother like that.”

“Why not?” you scoffed. “She is one. You of all people know she is.”

“Mom is not a bitch,” he said, hitting the gas when the light turned, getting you off a busy street and heading for the outskirts of town. “Y/N, we raised you better than to call people names.”

“You’re defending her? You? She only drove you out of your own home, own family.” He gripped the wheel tighter, clenching his jaw. “Jesus christ. You still love her, don’t you. Why the hell would-”

“I am the reason…I moved out and I left. I refused to acknowledge the shit going on in my head and all mom tried to do was get me help. Do not blame her for-”

“Bullshit,” you scoffed. “I’d get out of her ass if I were you. Some other guy is fucking it now and she’s never taking you back.”

He pulled over fast, shaking his head at you. His green eyes narrowed, mouth opening just as his car radio crackled to life.

“Arlen,” he growled into the radio, frowning at you, a clear message to not say another word right now. 

“Chief we got reports of a murder-suicide at the Breckenridge Ranch. Jenny and Pop are taking lead but are requesting your presence,” said a woman’s voice on the other end. 

“I’ll be there in twenty.” He clipped the radio back in, taking a deep breath. “Y/N you are going to listen to me and I mean listen to me because I am about to have a very long night and we are not dropping this discussion. I don’t care for the way you speak and I do not like the way you talk about your mom. You don’t like her boyfriend, fiance, fine. But you’ll at least respect him. You don’t like you mother? Then at a minimum you will respect her. You do not call people bitch. You are grounded until further notice.”

“Wow,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m on your side and I’m the asshole. My old dad would have understood that but you? I don’t know who the fuck you are. Go ahead and ground me. I literally don’t care. You’re a fucking stranger.”

He was pissed. Very pissed. He turned back on the road and did a u-turn, heading back into town. You raised an eyebrow but he held up a finger. “No. You want to swear at me? Call me a stranger? Fine. I’m going to work. You’re a big enough girl to have a potty mouth then you don’t mind a little murder scene, hmm? You want to know what the fuck I do all day? Well now’s your chance to see, maybe I’ll be less of a damn stranger that way.”

You kept quiet, staring out the window for the next twenty minutes. You swallowed when he drove past a cruiser at the ranch entrance and yellow tape, driving silently down the dirt road. 

“Stay in the truck,” he said when he parked behind another cruiser outside a nearby barn. You bit the inside of your lip, hearing him shift around behind you. A few seconds later you had your backpack in your lap. “Do your homework.”

“I thought you wanted me to see dead bodies,” you mumbled, fisting one of the straps. His heavy sigh filled the space, a twinge of guilt in your gut.

“I never want that for you. We’ll get dinner out somewhere in a few hours. We need to talk. Not fight. Talk,” he said, pausing a beat before opening his door.

“Why didn’t you take me home?” you asked. He slid out, his shoulders sagging with his back to you.

“Because I’m scared you won’t be there when I get back.” He turned around, plucking his hat from the center console. You stared at him as he frowned. “I know you ran away from home two weeks ago, kid. We are not letting that happen again. Understand?”

You gave a small nod, the door closing loudly in the small space before you shut your eyes.

Maybe you should have just stayed in Texas.

Three Hours Later

You’d finished your homework awhile ago and were watching videos on your phone when you saw your dad approach the truck. He said something to a blonde cop lady and another guy, giving them a quick wave.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, back in the truck, tossing his hat in the back.

“S’fine.” He was backed out and heading for the road quickly, rubbing his hand against his jaw. “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Why?”

“You were at a murder scene…” you said, catching a quick twitch of his lip. “Do dead bodies not scare you?”

“Not really. Sometimes you see bad things but a vast majority of the time, murders are…” he bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “There are scenes that are gruesome but most murders are not something out of a horror film, at least to me. You get desensitized to it somewhat. Even the bad ones, it doesn’t tend to bother me. They were a person and unfortunately they lost their life in a violent way. My job is to act on their behalf and get them the justice they deserve. They aren’t scary bodies. It’s a soul that’s gone that I can help is the way I look at it.”

He cleared his throat as he pulled back onto the road.

“But Helena is much safer than Houston. Not as many murders or any of that.” You hummed, glancing out the window. “Y/N, I know you’re upset with me right now but I want you to be careful. Something is…happening. I don’t know what it is but be careful. No going out at night alone. Keep the doors and windows locked all the time. Be smart, alright?”

“Ok,” you said quietly. “That wasn’t a murder-suicide, was it.”

“It was a very good attempt at making it look like one. If my officers weren’t as good at their jobs, they would have written it up as one instead of what it was. A double murder. My gut says it wasn’t random though which means it’s less likely anyone else winds up hurt.” 

“S’good,” you mumbled before the air went quiet. He only tapped the steering wheel, no rhythm to it. Tap tap. Tap tap. 

He had no problem talking about work since you’d moved in a week ago. God, the first day he’d talked too much, trying to fill the awkward silences. Maybe he’d been gone too long and this is what your relationship was now.

You closed your eyes, resting your head on the glass, wishing he’d never left in the first place. 

You jerked and flashed open your eyes when he shook your shoulder. The inside of the truck smelled like grease and the brown bag on the dash confirmed your suspicions. He nodded out the window and you turned, finding you were at a fairly deserted park. You left your backpack behind and crawled out, walking over to the nearest picnic table. A moment later he was sat across from you, pulling out a box of chicken nuggets, fries and two packets of sauce.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, taking the food from him as he took out a bigger box and more fries for himself.

“Well, I figured your McDonald’s go to hadn’t changed at least.” You shrugged, the two of you eating without saying another word. But it didn’t last, the food soon gone, the trash bundled up and tossed in a nearby can. 

Your dad sighed when he returned to his seat, resting his forearms against the faded wood top.

“Y/N. I…I left you and mom. If there’s anyone you should hate-”

“Why do you keep lying for her?” you interrupted. He swallowed thickly, breathing out a slow breath. “You left because she tossed you out. You didn’t leave because you wanted to.”

“...She had every right to.” You rolled your eyes, his hand raising. “Please. Just listen. Mom tried to get me help and I was the one that was an asshole about it. I blamed myself, I still do. She did what you’re supposed to for a partner. I pushed her away and us not being together anymore is because of me.”

You shook your head, a frown forming on his face. “I lived in that house too. I know you or at least I used to. I knew you were hurting and we couldn’t fix it. But I got that. It was something you had to go through, at your pace. You did the same thing when grandpa died. You got all quiet and pushed it down. And mom…she was a bitch back then too and tried to force you to get better faster all because she didn’t like having a grieving husband. You are supposed to help your partner, not hurt them more. Your problem has always been that you’re too in love with her to see that she hurts you. Just for one second imagine that was my husband that did that to me. Imagine he tried to force me into therapy less than a week after my best friend died because I was fucking sad and didn’t want to talk about it. Imagine my partner made me feel even worse and like I was the problem during one of the lowest moments of my life. Imagine that he was the one that made me feel like all of it was my fault when I was grieving. You’d tell me to leave his ass so I’m asking you to please, please stop defending her. I’m not a little kid anymore, dad.”

“No, you’re clearly not,” he said quietly, staring down at his lap. “I just don’t want you to hate your mother. Her heart was in the right place, even if that’s not how I process things.”

“I don’t hate her. I just don’t like her anymore. I told her so many times I didn’t like her boyfriend and she wouldn’t listen to me. You would have listened to me. S’why I ran away. I was trying to come here.” 

He pursed his lips and you waited, giving him time to respond the way he wanted to. 

“I wish…I wish mom and I had handled things differently. But what happened, happened. I would like to see you attempt to reconcile with your mom but I won’t force it.”

“Thank you,” you said, a quick nod coming from him.

“But…you are also a bit thick headed.” You frowned. “I know you are a teenager and dad isn’t the cool guy anymore but I reached out every single day and you definitely didn’t answer. I invited you to visit so many times and you never would. So cut your mom some slack because if you’re giving me that treatment, I can only imagine it’s the same for her.”

“Fine,” you grit out, trying to ignore how he may have had a point about why your relationship had soured. You sort of started ignoring him but you’d been busy and he needed space to work through his crap, hadn’t he?

“And for the record, it’s possible to still love someone but not want to be married to them ever again.” You stared at him, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t want to deal with an attitude all the time and you don’t want me to be a grump that hounds you every day. Can we try a clean slate? Pretend this afternoon didn’t happen?”

“Alright. We can try.”

The Next Day

You rubbed your jaw as you sat on the hard bench outside of the principal’s office. You had to hand it to Mara Hoyt. The little bitch knew how to throw a right hook. You guess that’s what happened when the star softball pitcher decided she hated your guts all because her boyfriend said hi to you on your first day.

On her own, you could have handled that. But this school was cliche central and the mean popular girl got all her mean popular friends to start bullying you after that. You were honestly surprised it took a whole eight days for things to get physical.

She was already in the office with her parents, crying the blues about how awful you were and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Shit, you hadn’t even touched the girl yet you were the one the school resource officer threw a pair of cuffs on. 

The sharp skid of a rubber sole against linoleum made both you and the officer turn your heads, your dad staring at you both wide eyed.

“Todd, get those cuffs of her or so help me,” growled your dad, storming over. 

“Sir? What are you-”

“How many Arlen’s do you think there are in this town? That’s my daughter,” he grit out. Todd moved at lightning speed the second he had the keys out of his pocket, apologizing to his boss and not you. You had to fight to not roll your eyes. You had a feeling with the way your dad’s face looked murderous that wouldn’t go over well.

“Excuse me,” said the vice principal, coming out to the hall with a stern expression. “Why is she uncuffed? She attacked-”

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” said your dad with a scary undertone in his voice, neglecting to offer his hand. “Y/N’s father and Chief of police over at the station. We don’t cuff seventeen year old girls unless they’ve committed a crime. Now, if after our discussion and I hear all the facts it turns out she did, I’ll cuff her myself and take her down for booking. Am I clear?”

The vice principal narrowed his eyes but said nothing, holding the door open. You trudged inside, your dad hot on your heels. You sat in the empty chair in front of the desk, Mara doing a good job of looking like a sobbing mess in the one nearby.

“Mr. Arlen?” the principal asked. He hummed, finding a spot along the wall and leaning against it with crossed arms, his eyes shooting to Mara. “I’m afraid we’ll have to suspend Y/N for attacking Mara for five days out of school.”

“And we’re pressing charges, even if you are the sheriff,” said a snotty woman. 

God were you working hard to not flip that whole family off. You were about to open your mouth and try to give your side of the story when you saw your dad’s face and his finger wag at you.

Uh oh. 

“Where do we want to begin? The way this school only got one students side of the story-”

“There are witnesses,” cut in the vice principal, your dad holding up a hand.

“Let me guess, Mara’s friends?” he shot back, clenching his jaw, returning his focus to the principal. “Now I know for a fact my daughter is getting bullied by this girl and her friends every single day since she started last week.”

You swallowed. You hadn’t told him that. How had he known?

He stepped forward, putting his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over it so you felt his chest against the top of your head.

“Do we want to start with the blatant bullying? Or perhaps with Mara?” he asked, turning his head to her, shooting her parents a glare. “You know, the one who actually did the attacking.”

“My daughter did no such thing,” snapped her dad. You felt your dad reach an arm around, gently grasping your forearm and holding it up.

“One girl has only defensive injuries. Bruises, nail marks. The other has scrapped knuckles, two broken fingernails and can’t look me in the eye. Guess which one is which,” growled your dad, his hand still gentle as he lowered your arm to your lap. Mara’s parents didn’t look like they were about to backdown though.

“There are witnesses. This is ridiculous. Mara acted in self-defense then,” said her mom. You glanced at the principal, his words caught in his throat and you couldn’t help but smile for a moment.

“Oh so now her story is changing?” poked your dad.

“No!” said her mom. “Your daughter said something so vile and threatening-”

“To her bully? Did Y/N say something like that to you Mara? Did she say something because her bully’s been so mean to her?”

“Don’t speak to our daughter!” shouted her dad. Mara glanced at you, as if you’d somehow help her. Meanwhile this was turning out to be the best day of your new school yet.

“I don’t hear her denying she was bullying Y/N? In fact, I don’t hear her saying anything. If it’s so abhorrent and you felt in so much danger, why don’t you tell us all what it was that made you act in self-defense, hm?” said your dad, his focus narrowed in on Mara. 

She was so fucked and she knew it. 

“I said don’t-”

“Alec,” interrupted the vice principal, his focus turned onto Mara as well. “Mara. Answer the question.”

But she couldn’t. She was floundering, face turning red under the interrogation. 

“Tell the truth and the Arlen family,” growled your dad, pointed straight back at her parents, “Will not press any charges.”

Mara contorted her face before throwing her hands up. “She called me insecure and said I should get help for that so I got mad and punched and kicked her.”

“And why did she call you that?” cut in your dad, laser focused on Mara. She closed her eyes, lowering her head. “Mara.”

“Because I’ve been bullying her because my boyfriend said hi to her and said we should get to know her because she’s new but I know he just wants to get in her pants so I told all my friends to keep her away from him no matter what.”

“I expect an apology,” he said. She looked up, eyes full of unshed tears. “Oh, not to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, barely looking at you.

“Thanks. I don’t accept it and that is perfectly within my rights,” you said. 

“Regardless, Mara you’re suspended for five days out of school. Y/N, you’re suspended for two. We have a zero tolerance policy on fighting,” said the principal.

“She didn’t fight,” said your dad, his voice stern. 

“It’s a rule,” said the principal.

“Fine,” said your dad, grabbing your bicep and pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go get lunch out, maybe catch a movie.”

You couldn’t hide the smile on your face as he led you out, his hand falling away when he looked over his shoulder. “Three more things. One, I fully expect punishments for the students that lied about what they saw. Two, I hear of anymore bullying happening at this school to any kid, I will make it my personal mission in life to get you fired and three? You people get your daughter in therapy sooner than later because that’s the sort of thing that gets her tossed in jail when she’s older.”

He tossed your backpack over his shoulder as he led you out to the hall, hand on your back leading you towards the front doors. You grinned as you stared, his face blank when he opened the door to fresh air.

“That was fucking awesome,” you said, jogging down the steps and over to the truck. “You went full cop mode and scared the shit of her! That was-”

“Are you okay?” he asked when you sat in the passenger seat. You tilted your head when he cupped your cheeks, running his thumb over the scuffed up skin on the left. “We need to clean that.”

He pushed up your short sleeves, finding more bruises, a few older ones, before trailing down to your nicked up arms.

“Y/N, I know you’re a good kid that doesn’t like to get in trouble but promise me something?” You nodded when he fixed your braid behind your ear. “Next time someone touches you without permission, you lay their ass out.”

“You told me I shouldn’t hit people.”

“Yeah, well the little bitch would have deserved it.” Your jaw dropped into a grin, his attempt at holding a blank face faltering, a smile creeping up. “Yeah, I know I said not to call people that but that kid’s a psycho waiting to happen. Promise me?”

“I promise,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead. “How’d you know I didn’t start the fight?”

“I know you. I also know there would have been no fight because if you had thrown the first punch, that girl would be knocked out.” He stroked your cheek again and sighed. “No headache? Anything like that?”

“She punches like a pussy.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Too far?”

“Just a tad. Come on. Let’s go enjoy your suspension.”

Later That Evening

“Alec’s my second cousin, such a dickhead,” said one of dad’s officer’s, the blonde woman named Jenny you’d seen last night. “Mara’s always been awful.”

“Jenny,” chided your dad in his office, chowing down on some chinese takeout from behind his desk. You gave her a smile, eating from your carton as she set a file down in front of him. “Don’t be a bad influence.”

“If I were her, I would have decked the little shit,” said Jenny. Your dad rolled his eyes and read through the file, Jenny stealing a fortune cookie for herself. She leaned against his desk and offered you a smile. “So besides the school being crap thing and your dad dragging you to murder scenes, how do you like Montana so far?”

“Jenny,” he said again, glancing over the top of the file at her.

“It’s a lot less boring than I thought it’d be,” you said, offering her one of your egg rolls. 

“Thank you,” she said, popping it in her mouth, returning her attention to your dad. “Both vics had traces of a yellow substance in their air passages.”

“Rat poison?” you asked, both of them slowly turning their heads towards you. They stared blankly as you chewed. “It was in that new hunger games movie, they killed a guy with it.”

“Wow,” said Jenny as your dad closed his eyes. “That’s impressive.”

“I don’t even…” he sighed, rubbing his jaw as he flashed open his eyes. “So rat poison killed them. Why make it look like a murder suicide then? This person must have known we’d do autopsies.”

“Unless they didn’t,” you said, earning a glare from him. “Hey, people are dumb. You taught me that when I was like eight.”

“Y/N-”

“No, she has a point,” said Jenny, picking up her copy of the file and glancing through it. “Who is smart enough to use rat poison but dumb enough to not realize we’d find it and try to cover it up?”

“No one, that’s who,” said your dad. You bit into another eggroll and shrugged. He threw his hand back and groaned. “Fine. What’s your theory?”

“Well, a kid is dumb enough,” you said. “Maybe they watched that movie too.”

“Genius plan except that couple had no kids,” he said. You finished your bite and shrugged. “What?”

“Weren’t you the one that also told me people aren’t always what they seem and not to trust someone just because they were nice? They could have been whackjobs.”

Jenny cocked her head, glancing at your dad. “Kid has a point, Arlen. It was a large property. Entirely possible we missed something.”

“Fine. We’ll check it out first thing,” he said, nodding to you. “You might as well come along Ms. Detective, since you’re out ot school for a few days.”

“Good with me. As long as it’s not early. I don’t do early,” you said, a tiny smirk on his face that told you you’d be up at dawn.

The Next Afternoon

“What’s going to happen to him?” you asked as your dad drove you both home after a long morning. He was quiet for a beat. “Will he go to juvie?”

“Maybe. Maybe a hospital for people like him. Either way, it’s a better situation than he was in,” he said. He tapped the wheel, his lips pursed. “You know I don’t want you to be a cop right?”

“I know. It’s just…it’s easy to talk to you about your work,” you said. He nodded, turning off to the road just a minute drive from the house. 

“So can you rent this movie with the rat poison?” he asked. You stared, his eyes flickering over for just a moment. “I thought Katniss took out the capital. How can they have another movie?”

“It’s a prequel, about Snow.” 

“Whoa, Donald Sutherland Snow? They made a movie about that jackass?” 

“Well, she wrote another book and then they made it into a movie. It was really good cause you can see how he’s a complete narcissist and he goes from this actually mostly likable guy to the jackass in the other movies.”

“Okay, I definitely have to see this.” He pulled into the driveway, your gaze fixed on him when he turned the car off. “Unless you don’t want to watch it?”

“No I just…I miss when I’d make you watch the hunger games and you’d make me watch the dirty dozen and that was our thing.”

“Still our thing,” he said, brushing his thumb over the healing scrape on your cheek. “How’s that feeling today?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

“I know, I know. I worry.” He opened the door and smiled as he popped out. “Alright little criminal. Go do that homework you ignored all day while I make us something to eat before our movie.”

“Really? Come on. I’m still suspended tomorrow. Can’t I do it over the weekend?” He looked up like he was thinking about it, a small smile crossing his face. “Thank you!”

“You’re helping me with dinner, missy.” You didn’t really mind that fact though. Making dinner together and watching a movie? That was normal for the two of you. 

A few hours later when you were bundled up under a blanket together on the couch and pressing start, you finally felt like it was a normal thursday night, no more tension or awkwardness in the air. And while murder investigations and school fights were certainly interesting, a little slice of normal again felt damn good.

_________

[itsabouttimex2]

Descendant of the Lady Bone Demon: Part Two

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Maybe they should’ve seen this coming. Maybe there were a few warning signs they didn’t pick up on. Looking back on it now, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? All those little things should’ve added up a long time ago.

The way the room grew silent and tense when you walked in, no matter how how exuberant it had been prior. How you manage to sneak up on everyone without even trying, as though you had no presence. The wide berth that strangers give you, even though they can’t explain why. That last one had been particularly strange for your friends. They hadn’t understood why people would treat you so coldly, not back then.

They understand now.

MK has already had so much placed on his shoulders, and all of it was without his asking. The fate of his friends. The fate of the city. The fate of the world. Time after time, countless lives are placed into his hands, and he does his very best to bring them safely through the danger posed by ancient threats and lurking demons.

Once, living out the dream of being a hero had been fun. Back then, all he had to do was master a new power or bust down another bad guy, and then everyone laughed and went on with their peaceful lives. Back when every adventure ended before the day was over and he was back home just in time for Pigsy to start scolding him for being reckless.

But as he grows stronger, so too does his vast array of enemies. As he trains his body and masters his skills, all those who seek to oppose him are doing the same.

Which means higher stakes. More danger. More destruction. More lives on the line day by day. It means that every last friend and companion of his will end up finding themselves in danger just on account of being associated with him. His enemies are rarely noble, most of them willing to target his friends in an attempt to devastate his heart and mind, hoping to leave him mourning and unsettled. He thwarts these attempts one after another, always saving the day in the end.

His greatest fear is that a day will come where he falls short of such an accomplishment.

A fear that the Lady Bone Demon brings to the forefront of his mind. She brings this hidden terror to light, and exacerbates it.

“Foolish child. Do you really think that one person can save everyone from pain and suffering? Or are you truly arrogant enough to believe that your strength alone can forge a better tomorrow?”

She makes him want to be stronger. Smarter. Better. Good enough to protect anyone who’d ever be put in danger. Especially you.

“Y/N! Let’s hang out today! Come on, I’ve got my room set up for a Monkey Cop marathon!” He takes you by the hand, dragging you along after him with a big smile that he struggles to maintain. When he’s sad or upset, he turns to you. In turn, he makes it clear that you can always rely on him to protect you.

If he were a bit more mature, a little more confident and self-assured, he’d make for a wonderful older brother figure. He’s spontaneous, energetic, supportive… and entirely terrified that he might lose you.

That fear drives him to train harder, to work harder… to be someone you are truly and honestly proud of. To be someone you can rely on and turn to in any time of need. He tackles his training with a renewed vigor, all in preparation for the moment that you might need his protecting.

And now that said moment has come, he’s more scared than ever before. The person he fears most bears down on him as he stands in front of the person he fears losing most, and all he can do is hold strong.

“You will not stand between me and my destiny!” The Lady Bone Demon’s voice is furious, her eyes crackling with arcane energy.

The very same eyes that you have. MK doesn’t know exactly what started his suspicions, but your eyes are what confirmed his little hunch. The two of you are related in some way, he’s sure of it.

And with how insistent she is with getting her hands on you, it’s only a further nail into the coffin. There’s no denying that you and the Lady Bone Demon have some sort of connection. But what? Are you her descendant? Did she plant a seed of her essence into your forefathers long ago to ensure that some part of her would go on, and only now is returning to reclaim it? Are you simply powerful enough for her to see use in you? Does she think she could sway you to her side?

There’s a dozen explanations that could be true. However, he has no way to prove which one of them it is, because the Lady Bone Demon is staying tight lipped on why exactly she wants you, perhaps as to not give MK a chance to counter her plans.

It doesn’t matter, MK reminds himself. What she wants with you doesn’t matter. What matters is that she wants you, full stop. And if he can stop her and her well-intentioned plans, then he can save you and everybody else too. All he has to do is push a little harder.

And then?

Maybe he can just… forget about it all. Forget about the Lady. Forget about your nebulous ties to her. And everything can go back to the way it was, when he didn’t jump every time you spoke to him, when he could look into your eyes without feeling like someone had dumped ice down his shirt, when he could fall asleep next to you without waking up in a cold sweat.

He’ll forget all about it, burying it deep inside his brain.

And then things will go back to normal, with you safely under his protection.

Right?

He knows right from the start. I sincerely believe that if someone was the Lady Bone Demon’s descendant, Wukong would be aware the very moment he met them.

A dread chill races down his spine the moment he see you, freezing him for just a second as he contemplates one of his worst fears coming true. The Lady Bone Demon is back.

Except… no, not really. That’s not her at all, is it? You’re just… some kid. With the exact same crushing spiritual pressure that she personally exerted. And the same eyes that she had.

Yeah, this isn’t a coincidence. There’s just no way. He goes off to do some digging, but not before subtly tasking MK with keeping an eye out for you while he searches for anything that could prove your ties to one of his greatest enemies.

And this is Sun Wukong we’re talking about, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. It doesn’t take him very long, whether through cleverness and trickery or sheer brute force.

Maybe the monkey demon twists a few heavenly arms to get the information he wants. Maybe he utilizes the 72 Transformations to eavesdrop on a keeper of records. Maybe he’s just got a sacred book of lineage hidden away in some pile of junk somewhere.

However he does it, he gets the job done well, with just the conclusion he’s looking for- you are indeed, of the Lady Bone Demon’s blood.

But Sun Wukong has come far from his days before Five Phases mountain. He’s not some vicious demon who bullies those around him, nor does he jump to outright murder as a solution for every last problem.

He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, just so you can maybe prove yourself to him.

It starts with him crashing at your house without an excuse, he himself writing it off with a very unconvincing “bout of motion sickness” that would supposedly leave him incapable of comfortably riding his cloud back to Flower Fruit Mountain.

His true intention is to see what you’ll do while he’s “asleep”, laid across your couch with his head rested on a cushy pillow, tantalizingly propped-up for one who might wish to try and crush his skull or slice his throat.

Instead, you usher him to a cozy guest room, asking him to call you if he needs anything. He makes use of this several times, asking for food and water to see if you’ll poison it.

But you don’t. There’s no hand-made poison sourced from the Underworld slipped into his peach tea. No sacred knife hidden inside your sleeve. No Heaven-forged needles baked into the slice of pie you bring when he mentions being hungry.

You aren’t a scheming demon, he realizes. You’re just a good kid.

You remind kind to him, even as he intentionally tries to fray your nerves. You don’t snap or argue or whine, instead tending to his false needs with a smile on your face.

He drifts comfortably to sleep in the guest room, stomach satiated and his brain whirling. Before he passes out, he realizes with a pang of sympathy that he’s clearly the first person to have ever slept here. Stocked and furnished comfortably for anyone who might stop by and spend time with you… it’s instead been rotting without occupancy, left unused for what may well have been years.

You aren’t a bad person. You really, really aren’t. You’re just a good kid who clearly needs someone to quell the stomach-turning loneliness that finds you down each path you take.

At first, he decides to be that person out of pity. He stops by sometimes, ducking in to snag a bite from your fridge, engaging in a short but friendly conversation, watching sympathetically as the mere exchange of several sentences boosts your mood to healthy levels.

You start to anticipate his visits, making sure you have food and drink he’ll enjoy on hand. Lots of peach-filled pastries, to nobody’s surprise. Pies, tarts, cookies… it turns out that Sun Wukong has a pretty unabashed sweet tooth. He’s actually somewhat touched that you out in the effort just to make sure that he’ll have something nice to eat when he stops by.

Just as pity went to warmth, slowly that warmth comes to a peak, igniting.

Eventually, he starts taking you back to Flower Fruit Mountain to spend time with you there, trying to acclimate you to an eventual residency there with him to repay every kindness you’ve done for him.

There’s not a single pivotal moment where he realizes that he wants to keep you beside him, just a slow, day by day fall into platonic obsession. He gets attached, hard.

From your point of view, your kindness and determination to forge bonds with those around you has finally earned you a friend.

From his point of view, you’re a lonely, wayward child who needs someone nearby to protect and shelter you.

This is far from the truth, but his delusions grow by the day, in part an innocuous desire to repay your kindness, in part an unhealthy attachment to someone who has no hope of escaping from his grasp.

Really, though… if he did spirit you away, would you complain or argue? Fight or run?

Even if you did, there’s no way you’d get away from him. Just sit back, and let him take care of you, just the way you took care of him.

That’s what family does, after all.

You’re another one of his weird kids. That’s where it starts and ends for Pigsy. You fit snugly between Mei and MK, forming a neat little trio that he wants to both throttle and hug. Just as often as you three make him feel like he’s heading to an aneurysm-induced early grave, you make him feel fulfilled and content. His noodle shop, his two best friends, his three high-energy goofy kids.

Pigsy is happy with the life he has. He’s happy with the life he’s provided for MK. He’s happy to see Mei overcome her insecurities with her family and gain their approval. He’s happy that Sandy has found peace and improved himself. He’s even happy when Tang comes to visit, though he’ll gripe about the man “freeloading” whenever he stops by.

It’s a strange, stressful life that he’s built for himself, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

A world he wishes was just a little kinder.

It has served him kindly enough, though. Success, family, friends, some degree of fame. Most things a person can want, Pigsy has in decent abundance.

His problem is the way it treats you.

You’re a good kid. You really are. You’ve been visiting since you were a child, and he’s watched you grow up. If it weren’t for Tang, you’d be his most frequent customer. (Because you actually pay for your food, he calls you his favorite customer, to Tang’s dismay) And because you’ve spent so much time here with him and his family, he has a pretty good feeling he understands you.

Is isn’t just the renowned food you’re coming back for. It’s the company, too.

You always come in alone and drag out your visits to last as long as possible. You make conversation whenever and wherever you get the chance, stretching out these moments of companionship for as long as you can.

You’re lonely. Not for a lack of trying, of course. You try to strike up conversations, try to reach out to others wherever you can. People seem consistently unsettled and unnerved in your presence, immediately looking for an out when you come around. No matter how kind you are or how often you try to make connection, you get left in the dust.

If you aren’t at Pigsy’s Noodles, then you’re alone. So you keep coming back, again and again. Not just for the incredible food, but for them.

For him.

It’s sad, but it warms his heart a little at the same time. You rely on him. Maybe he could go as far as to say that you need him. Who would he be, if he didn’t welcome you with open arms?

Pigsy wants you to be happy. He wants to keep you safe. And eventually, those feelings grind slowly towards wanting to keep you close.

And close he keeps you, there and then, and then, here and now.

Pigsy does not let go of you. Even as the manic wide-eyed man he only knows as “the Mayor” demands your unconscious body from him, talking about “bloodlines” and “destiny” and “the power she requires”, the chef refuses to be parted from you.

Since he can’t run, he has no chance but to stand and fight, wielding a nine-toothed rake with one hand and keeping you slung safely over his shoulder with the other. He’s never been good at fighting, so it isn’t truly an even match. He’s instead trying to block and dodge the Lady Bone Demon’s sycophantic servant, barely warding him off after each blow.

His efforts to hold out eventually do pay out, with MK stepping shortly in to knock the “Mayor” away from you both, punting him across the landscape and then into the ground from there.

Leaving Pigsy to weigh the options left before him. However, it’s not much as much of a struggle as one might assume. You’re a kid, he thinks to himself, holding you close as he examines your bruises and scrapes. You don’t need to know. What would it accomplish? Do you need to know why people fear you? Why they think of you as unapproachable? Why they run away from the kindness and warmth you offer?

Would it help you, to know the reason? No, Pigsy decides. It could only lead to trouble and heartbreak. What if you ran away from both yourself and your friends, and never came back for fear of hurting them? What if you lost the ability to trust yourself? What if you hurt yourself?

He can’t run the risk of losing you. From now on, he’s going to take a much more personal role in your life, very potentially bringing you to live in the restaurant with him and MK.

“You don’t have to worry about those two freaks, kid. Just let me look out for ya, from now on.”

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (3)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Suggestive themes, violence and mild gore ahead.

Taglist: @admirxation @angelstargel @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥

AO3 Link

Chapter 3: Fires of Rebellion

“So, talk,” you demanded, crossing your arms as you kept yourself at a suitable distance from Leon. 

Both of you were currently walking up north along Good Street towards the City College. The plan had been to take a left at some point and head over to the park by Warren Street, where hopefully there would be some benches for you to relax on. It was still early enough in the night for your surroundings to be relatively bustling with people, so you weren’t too worried that the man beside you would try anything risky or stupid. In any case, you knew where you kept your pepper spray at hand if things went south.

“You’d already sensed it from the beginning,” he stated, swallowing thickly. How was it this hard to tell you who he really was? If he could sweat blood, he’d fill a whole bucket’s worth. Pig’s blood. A cop in pig’s blood. He knew plenty of people who’d pay to see him drenched in the vermillion fluid. “That I’m not exactly normal.” That was what he settled with.

“What, you mean like a serial killer or something?” you scoffed, shaking your head in mild vexation.

“No.” His voice was solemn but firm as he glanced at you briefly, making eye contact. “I didn’t… assault you, not in the way you think.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “I just— I do things… that aren’t exactly normal.”

Great, Leon. You just made yourself sound like a fucking magician. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and paused his footsteps. “This is going well.”

You almost felt sorry for the guy. He seemed to be having such a difficult time articulating what he wanted to say. Was it some sort of kink he was talking about? The logical part of your mind berated you, insisting that this could go down far worse than you imagined, but you pushed it aside.

“Like what?” you asked, your morbid curiosity getting the better of you.

His jaw tightened as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side.

Before he could respond, you took the initiative, positioning yourself in front of him as a form of challenge. “Show me,” you requested.

His head darted in every direction, scanning the area with an animalistic instinctiveness and you thought you saw his eyes illuminate in a different color. However, when you blinked a second later, it had returned to its original pale shade of blue. “Too many people,” he muttered. “I’ll do as you ask, but we need to head somewhere quieter.”

You should’ve ran off after he said that, but your legs stayed rooted to the ground. Your lack of self-preservation was alarming. “The park, then?” you suggested.

He nodded in compromise. “I could work with that.”

The rest of the walk there took place in awkward silence, as you dwelled on what he would do and whether you were walking into one big, fat trap. Well, at least Patrick had his business card. And P.I.s, they had a registered license, didn’t they? It was too late to back out now, you’d gone this far and you wanted to see it through.

When you had found a secluded bench at one of the shaded corners of the park, he spoke up again. “Do you remember the first night we met? When—”

“You offered me cigarettes in exchange for coffee,” you finished the sentence for him.

“Yes,” he said with a wistful smile, as if reminiscing about a day he’d cherished but had long since passed. “You felt it, didn’t you? Compelled to stay, but with no reason why.”

Despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him. That moment between standing by his table and sitting with him to share in a smoke had been like entering the twilight zone. You were you, but yet, at the same time, weren’t.

“I can do it again here, if you want,” he murmured, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to bore right into you.

It wasn’t the first time you had leaped before looking. You’d always been known to be a little more reckless than your peers, but it seemed like you never really learnt your lesson well. “Be my guest,” you gestured melodramatically, as your hand swept across in one grand motion.

“Now, you’re just mocking me,” he chided, though a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips.

This time, there was a tingling sensation in your body, like an invisible warm light gradually enveloping you, except it seemed to exude from him. You were entranced by his stature, the minute details of his face, everything about what he was, to the point where you couldn’t tear yourself away from his gaze.

“Sit,” he directed gently, placing his hand along the back of the wooden bench.

You felt nothing but desire. Desire to do anything he wanted you to. Without a word, you sank onto the bench like a doll, still giving him that doe-eyed expression one would normally reserve for a celebrity they were starstruck by.

Taking his seat beside you, he urged, “Come closer.”

Obediently, you shuffled up along the bench towards him, except it wasn’t out of fear of punishment, but a strange, radiant love that emanated from within you. When you were just inches away from his face, he slowly revealed the tips of his canine teeth, which were pointier than usual, and seemed to grow with each passing minute. As his features eased up, you could feel the uncanny warmth dissipate from your core, and though you were still captivated by him, his face seemed to lack the same lustrous sheen it held moments ago. Like a wandering spirit, you had arrived back into your own body. You were you again.

His eyes latched onto you, waiting, watching, biding his time, to see what you would do. Though he remained poised and composed, the unsteadiness of his breathing and the flicker of trepidation across his irises gave him away. He was afraid that you would leave him, for good. And after what he had given to have the right to Embrace you, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself if he were rejected.

It felt like hours had gone by until one of you spoke up. “Do you hate what you see?”

“No,” you answered, almost too quickly, cupping his cold cheek in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully into it, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt moist and heated against your skin.

You surprised yourself with how well you were taking all of this in. This shouldn’t have been possible and nothing about what he had shown you made sense. You blamed your tolerance on the late, sleepless nights and hanging around with the offbeat characters who frequented your cafe. 

What if monsters did exist? you humored. Maybe not in the literal sense of vampires, but someone who relished the flavor of blood, and who’d learnt a few tricks of hypnotism. You tried to rationalize it as much as you could, but there were still so many missing pieces you did not fully understand.

“How many times?” you asked. “Did you force me… each night?”

He lowered his gaze, marred by shame, while looking to his hands nestled in his lap. “It was just that once,” he whispered. “I wanted you to stay with me.” 

He pursed his lips. “The rest, later on… was you.”

“Did you—”

“Yes.” 

You didn’t even need to continue your sentence for him to know what you meant. Yes, he tasted your blood. Yes, he enjoyed it. Yes, he came back for more. And more.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked.

You didn’t acknowledge his apology, allowing even more time to slip through your fingers. A while later, you ran them along his cheek towards his lips, where his teeth which now looked more like fangs lurked. Right, how would you explain that away?

He didn’t stop you when you traced one of their edges, as if trying to figure out if they were real. He let you press the tip of your finger against its peak, purposely pricking yourself in some kind of deluded masochistic fantasy. The rush you felt from it was indescribable, like a spike of venom flowing into your veins, though it wasn’t as intense as the previous times to truly immobilize you. Grasping onto the back of the bench, you steadied yourself from the dizzying sensation.

A dark, ruby bead blossomed at the site of the puncture. His mouth lay open as he inhaled sharply, gripping the trousers on his thighs, and there was a wild look in his bloodshot eyes. However, he remained motionless, restraining himself somehow, as if awaiting your instruction.

“You like this?” A mixture of bewilderment and arousal seeped into your tone, as you brought your bleeding finger to rest just at the entrance of his mouth.

All at once, his veneer of calmness shattered. He swirled his tongue against your fingertip, causing you to gasp as it made hot laps around the miniscule droplet of blood you had to offer him. Dipping his head, he took the rest of your digit into his mouth, eventually sucking on it whole as he emitted a low groan in pleasure. When he finally let it go, a slick string of saliva connected to it from his lips, wet and hungry with need.

“I, um—” you shuddered, at a loss for words, as you retracted your finger, folding it into your hand.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he straightened up in his seat, adjusting his attire and hair, as if he had come back to his senses once again. “You don’t have to decide on this right now,” he assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded shakily, your mind spinning from all the events that had just transpired. “Could we take another short walk before I head home?” 

It would probably help to cool off a little, you thought.

“Anything you need,” he asserted, getting up as he took another glance around the park, before extending his hand to you.

You stared at it, contemplating further. “Just don’t—” you hesitated, pausing to rephrase your words. “I want to trust you, Leon.”

“I’ll earn it back,” he promised. “However long it takes.”

That was all you needed to hear from him. Perhaps you were naive to a fault, but you took his hand anyway, allowing him to lead you out of the park, and to whatever else fate had in store for you that night.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Over the course of the evening, a thin fog had developed, shrouding the sky and enveloping the moon and stars in a blurry veil, casting a muted light over the city. You and Leon had taken a short detour towards the more touristy part of town, where the landmark Saint Michael Clock Tower overlooked the grand waterway.

The ornate, Gothic structure loomed intimidatingly ahead, its roof cloaked in a wispy gray mist, though you could still make out the time on its huge clock face. Ten minutes past midnight. It was getting late, and although you were accustomed to working until the wee hours of the morning, you preferred to get some sleep on your nights off when possible. However, right now, a part of you wished that the night would last longer. 

There wasn’t such a wide distance between you and Leon as before. In fact, your fingers were nearly touching, but neither of you had taken it further to close the final gap. Even in complete silence, punctuated only by the sounds of the city’s buzzing nightlife, both of you had somehow agreed on which pathways to take, falling in sync with each other’s footsteps, pauses and turns, like an unspoken dance. It was nice like this, having no expectations of the other person, just walking and feeling the thread of connection that bound the two of you.

Every now and then, he peered at you inquisitively, and you wondered if he had something to say, but when you looked his way, he turned his gaze back to the street in front of him. Coming to the entrance of a tunnel arbor near the clocktower, you paused to admire the sight of the vines and flowers that were wound around the metallic arches, interspersed with marigold fairy lights. There were still a decent number of stragglers in the vicinity. Probably the remaining tourists for the day who didn’t quite want to wrap up yet, some of whom were posing for pictures near the picaresque arbors.

“Cat caught your tongue?” Always the instigator and taking the confrontational approach. That was what you were known for.

“Hm?” he deflected, yet smiled at you knowingly.

“Just looked like you had something to say.” You shrugged, placing your hands on your hips.

“Nothing escapes you, huh?”

He was teasing you again; you were certain of it. Though this appeared to be twofold, where the second part was meant as a misdirection to hide a secret from you. 

“It should be obvious that I like you,” he stated plainly.

Obvious to the point where he couldn’t afford to have one of those obnoxious Anarchs stake their claim over you, just for a bit of territory. You were worth so much more to him than that. Surely, it would be the lesser of two evils for him to be the one to Embrace you? It was all he could think about when he made that deal with Ada. Always justifying and compromising. That was what he was known for.

You couldn't fathom the sheer astonishment and joy that overcame him when Ada returned with the news a few weeks later:

“The Prince granted your wish,” she mentioned with an indifferent wave of her hand.

“How?” he choked in disbelief. “It usually takes years!”

“You underestimate me,” she scoffed. “Have you forgotten that I’m the voice of society?”

“No, of course not.” He hung his head in disgrace, as if he had just been told off by a parent.

“Anyway, I don’t have to tell you twice that you should thank him in person.” 

Lifting a bejeweled chalice to her lips, she tasted its contents, allowing it to linger on the palate before letting it wash down her throat. “And by ‘thank’, I mean ‘grovel’.”

“Yes, sire.” He bent down on his knee and kissed the back of her hand in respect.

A shadow of annoyance flickered across her face, morphing into a frown. “You do know this makes you look weak?” she questioned rhetorically. “Being unable to convince the Prince yourself?”

He knew better than to respond when Ada was in such a mood.

“Don’t embarrass me.” 

Her warning rang loud and clear in his ears.

“Who is it obvious to?” you challenged, pulling him out of his reverie. Maybe you had an undeniable urge to see him lose control over you again.

At this, he drew closer towards you, his eyes ablaze like a blue flame, as he snaked his arms around your waist. That was it — the thrill, the feeling you missed. It rippled through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But before he could go any further, a sudden force tore him from his hold on you, hauling him violently backwards. He was flung in the air across a couple of yards, landing against the wall of a building with a sickening crack.

In the background, you heard screams coming from all directions, alongside whooshing sounds, followed by loud thuds. One soon popped up behind you and in an instant you found yourself smacked to the ground. There was a shrill ringing in your ears, your eyes watered, and your vision blurred as you started seeing double in front of you. You felt the back of your head. Wet. Sticky. Flowing. Your fingers were red and the concussion you suffered induced a dizzying spell.

A grizzly face appeared before you, but you couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features, except for the familiar shape of long fangs that glistened under the arbor lights. There was no time to put up a fight or even cry out for help, as you began to sink deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

Leon had watched the entire scene unfurl before him like a twisted snuff film coming to life. The attack had taken him by surprise, but he quickly got up from his fall, resetting his bones and shaking it off like nothing had happened. The whole place was awash in scarlet. Blood streaked the city streets, trickling into every gap and crack, as the victims were messily drained of their lifesource. Whoever was behind this wanted the world to know. And that was when he witnessed the first of them turn.

A Mass Embrace? These Kindred definitely reeked of the Sabbat, and if not, they weren’t anyone who had been presented before the Prince; he would know. There wasn’t a second left to spare — he had to find you immediately. In his line of sight, he saw one of the culprits feeding on you greedily, and the primal rage he felt within him almost caused his Beast to take over. He hunched over and growled ferociously. His features transformed into something monstrous and his eyes were crazed as globs of saliva dribbled down his mouth.

It was fanning the flames of a Frenzy, one where he would slaughter every being in his path regardless of who they were, tearing them from limb to limb, and eviscerating their carcasses for what they had done to you. But his concern for your well-being won him over. Mustering up his willpower, he resisted the Beast as much as he could, and though he was still enraged, he needed to think straight and prioritize getting you to safety. That was all that mattered.

In the bat of an eye, he zipped across, yanking the other vampire away from your limp body, as they traded rapid blows. Another aggressor joined in the fight, as Leon dodged their swift counterattacks with deceptive ease, before connecting his right fist to one of their jaws and dealing a precise uppercut with his left to the other’s ribs, catching both of them off-guard. 

Everything seemed to pass by in quicktime as he moved with an unnatural grace, spinning mid-air over one of their backs, only to grab the other from behind and slam him to the ground savagely. Gathering the rest of his strength, he took advantage of the momentum to stomp on the vampire’s head with the heel of his shoe. There was a nauseating crunch as his skull caved in from the blunt force trauma, splintering and sending blood splashing across the pavement, driving him straight into torpor. One down, one more to go.

The brutality of the violence he had displayed unnerved him, yet fuelled his excitement as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He attributed it to being partially influenced by the Beast the moment those bastards had put your life in danger. At least he had not fully succumbed to it. That was what he tried to tell himself while putting a lid on his unquenchable thirst for more. More violence. More bloodshed. They deserve it…

A cacophony of ghastly howls erupted from a distance, bringing him back to reality. Jill, it had to be, Leon realized. The Sheriff was coming to subdue this severe breach of the Masquerade. As the other vampire lunged at him, Leon’s reflexes took over, timing it such that he skirted the edge of the assault unscathed. Instead, he circled around, placing the attacker in an unyielding headlock. The vampire struggled vigorously, attempting to kick and claw his way out of Leon’s grip.

It was then that he heard Jill’s gruff yells in the vicinity, as the pack of dogs under her control barked and gnashed their teeth viciously at the remaining offenders, clamping down on their legs to prevent them from escaping. The Hound, a group of Kindred who reported to her, had arrived in tow, twirling wooden shafts in their hands, each sharpened at one end. Grinning menacingly, they struck at the assailants, staking them immobile before dragging them away.

“You need this one?” Leon called out. He might as well play by their rules where he got the chance, even if the Prince himself had decreed a perpetual Blood Hunt on the Sabbat. Anything to be in the former’s good graces. It was all for show, anyway.

Jill turned sharply, her mouth contorting into a wicked smirk, as she stalked towards him. “Leon… always at the right place, right time, huh?” Her voice was more akin to brutish snarl, but he knew when she meant her threats and when she didn’t. At this point, she was on his side.

“We have our hands full of the rebellious trash.” She jerked her thumb back to her crew, who were skulking around in the dark with their catch. “Kill this motherfucker.”

Without hesitation, Leon snapped the vampire’s neck clean, ripping his head off in the process as his lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Letting out a huff from the effort, he tossed the head aside, feeling nothing for the wretched being that lay at his feet. Or did he? He chose not to dwell on it any further, finding something else to distract himself with as he glanced down at his clothes, frowning when he noticed they were smeared with all sorts of fluids and innards. Dry cleaning was gonna be a bitch.

Jill signaled towards your body with her chin. “This one’s barely alive.”

“She’s mine.” A deep-seated possessiveness surged through him as he stepped between you and Jill, unwilling to let you be snatched away from his grasp again. Swooping down, he lifted you into his arms, ready to cart you off from this gruesome site. “Please, I don’t have much time.”

Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and a low rumble reverberated from her chest. “Alright, pretty boy. You’re answerable to the Prince though,” she warned.

“Understood,” he replied snippily, cringing at the nickname she often used to wind him up.

Directing her attention once again to her Hound, she commanded, “Torch the rest!”

The poor, newly created vampires never stood a chance, dealing with both the life-changing alterations to their bodies and the molotov cocktails now lobbed at them. They had no idea what was happening as they were set aflame in the towering bonfire, screeching and wailing until they were reduced to nothing but ashes. The smell of singed skin and flesh hung in the air.

Tightening his grip on you, Leon recoiled involuntarily in fear as he fled from the raging inferno. “Hang in there for me,” he whispered, praying to a long-forgotten god that he wouldn’t be too late this time. 

Racing like his life depended on it, he kept to the shadows, using the cover of darkness to navigate through the maze of Raccoon City towards his haven.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for reprimanding someone else's kid?

I brought my friend's 2 foster kids to the park so she could have some time to work on adoption paperwork. The kid this pertains to is the two year old, he's super social and charismatic, both adults and kids are drawn to him, I'll refer to him as K. A little white boy was playing with a soccer ball, he must have been around 7 or 8 years old. K fucking loves soccer and eagerly ran over to the other kid, and they started playing together.

The older kid's guardian was there and asked about K, we exchanged small talk and I praised how gentle and patient her kid was with K. I learned her kid's name, we'll call him T. At some point K got distracted and stopped playing, following his foster sister around. T began playing on the playground with 2 other boys in the generally same age group as T, both were white.

K once again was drawn to T, and now his friends, as they were playing something like cops and robbers. T's guardian and I observed from a distance. T seemed perturbed by K's presence, though K was just watching them and not doing anything in particular. T informed his peers of K's name, then proceeded with, "but he's a poop. A stinky brown poop!" his peers weren't paying much attention and were arguing over where the jail should be. T continued insisting that K was a stinky brown poop. K was becoming upset, he could definitely tell this was an insult and not in jest. K isn't particularly good at communicating yet, he's only 2 after all, but he did manage a proper, "it makes me feel bad when you say that!" as his foster momma has been very good at encouraging her kids to express emotions through sentences with one another like this. What I'm supposed to do with the 2 foster kids, if one uses their words appropriately like this, and the other one fails to stop, I'm supposed to intervene to get the other one to respect their request.

T's guardian was simply observing. I think the social situation was a bit loaded (I was presently the white guardian of a black kid, she was the black guardian of a white kid, I don't know if she was his mom or babysitting like I was, addressing the situation was tricky either way). I don't know if T's comments were necessarily a learned racism thing, or if it was related to K being younger. At any rate, he didn't seem to want to be seen with K by his peers.

I made eye contact with T, and said loudly and sternly, "T, be kind to K or hush up." T looked shocked that an adult stranger addressed him by name. The 2 other kids heard and, as children do, started making fun of T with, "oooo you're in trouble!" and, "yeah, hush up T!" K joined in as well, though he was definitely just parroting the others. T became flustered, his face got bright red and he began shouting that he wasn't in trouble, telling them to stop. I noticed It's guardian watching me, but she didn't say anything, and I didn't either.

T backed away, his two friends then started paying attention to K and were amused by K parroting them, they then resumed playing cops and robbers with K this time. K went back to smiles and being his typical charismatic self, while T kind of stayed away, repeatedly glancing at me. After a bit K veered away from the other 2 and made finger guns at T and pretended to shoot him, leading T's 2 friends back over to include T once again. All 4 boys were then playing together, as though nothing had happened.

I feel like I may have been TA because really, what happened was T was requesting space from K, just going about it wrong. Kids who don't learn to say things like, "I need space," usually use insults or hitting instead. But I do feel that T began insulting the little guy because he's got weird feelings about race, that are triggered when he's with his friends. I have no way of knowing. When we left, T's guardian waved at me and smiled, I returned the gesture and told her to have a good night. I told K's foster mom about it afterwards, and she said it's tricky and thinks what I did was fine, but I dunno. Additionally I may be TA for not stepping in when the other 2 and K berraded T.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[mysticmunson]

lone star: chapter one

summary: eddie had packed up his things and moved to the big city, indianapolis, but when he enters the fast-growing world of the adult entertainment industry, it gets lonely.

rating: R

warnings: smut, filmed sexual acts, drinking, smoking, mentions of BDSM/BDSM related tools. let me know if i've missed any.

authors note at the end :)

word count: 8.8K

The cool air of Indiana nipped at Eddie Munson’s cheek, the slight burn of his aftershave still leaving him grimacing in the presence of the blue building. As his cigarette came to just ashes and smoke, he stomped it out before walking inside the brightly lit studio, pushing his sunglasses to his hairline. 

Hawkins left little to be desired after he graduated from high school, already feeling the unemployment office calling his name as the boys of corroded coffin went off to college. With his last check from The Hideout and necessities in his bag, he headed for Indianapolis. He would have gone further, but part of him couldn’t be too far from Wayne, ringing him every other day to recall the cheap french toast he ordered that made him experience euphoria or to ask Wayne about his j0b.

The latter always being responded with, “Same ole, same ole kid.” 

He found a job at a local pub, not the kind he would perform at, but one that at least didn’t play Madonna every night. The walls were splattered with neon paint, posters of celebrities he had never heard of across them, and large, wooden bar counters with obscure stains. 

He was, somehow, able to convince them to give him a chance bartending. He didn’t know if he’d be good, but he knew the paychecks far surpassed that of a busboy. Thankfully the people of the big city were much more accepting of long hair and loud personality, partially thanks to the liquor, but companys, company.

After a few months, he was operating by himself on weekdays, typically being greeted by the same older men who recalled stories of being in war or middle aged women sucking his red wine supply. 

“Bourbon.” A middle aged man gruffed, slightly disheveled as a few buttons on his shirt were undone and his hair tousled. Eddie nodded, knowing better than to piss off the hand that feeds you, even when there was no hello or please. 

“Sure thing.” Scrunching his sleeves to his elbows, the chilling air of November not reaching all the way to the back of the building. Pouring the copper drink into the logo-adorned glass, he placed it in front of the stressed man wordlessly. 

“Thanks.” he responded shortly, downing it in one swing, signaling another round. Eddie’s eyebrows lifted, but nodded, grabbing the cup again and refilling it. He felt the strangers eyes bore onto his back, trying to remember if he wore any offensive clothing or forgot to wash out a stain. 

Spinning back around, he set the cup down again, but the man's gaze didn’t falter. His thick rimmed glasses fell down the slope of his nose before he adjusted them, “What’s your name, kid?”

The air became warmer as Eddie analyzed him, trying to remember if he was a cop he pissed off in adolescence. He did have a cop-esq haircut, brown with shades of gray that was thinning the closer it got to his forehead. 

“Eddie.” He quipped, grabbing a rag from under the counter to wipe up the reminisce condensation rings. The guy said nothing, still fixated on him as he straightened up the napkin stack. He wasn’t one to hold his tongue, something he had gotten better at since joining customer service, but this was testing his strength. 

“Listen man, I’m not gay or anything, it’s cool if you are but could you stop checking me out.” Eddie blurted, watching the opposing face distorted to a loud laugh, coughing at the seeming absurdity of the statement. 

His chortle faded into a quiet one as he sipped his drink, face clenching briefly before signaling another one with Eddie snatching it to restock. The glug noise was unprofessional, but he debated on just throwing it in his face alternatively, so subtle rebellion was going to be his best friend for the next few minutes. 

Slamming the glass down, the drink swooshed and let some drip down the sides. He walked to the other end of the bar, checking the beer taps as he realized they closed in about a half hour. Relief rushed over him as he heard the stool squeak, but the annoyance quickly returned as he realized the blue collared man just moved closer. 

“Eddie, I’m not gay, I’m a director. My name's Bill, I need an actor for a film and I think you’d be a good fit.” He clarified, clasping his hands in front of him, giving Eddie his time to cackle. His chest burned at how hard  it came forth, expecting attempted murder before a scouting agent. Wiping his finger at the corner of his brown eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh really? What kind of role? Will I have the honor of being freak number five in a John Hughes picture?” He joked, turning his back to try and make all the labels face towards the front, something that stephanie, the opening manager, relentlessly busted his balls over. 

Returning to his time to laugh, Bill released a far airier one than before, leaning in closer, “You ever seen a dirty movie?”

Within two weeks, Eddie had quit his job and was earning almost double what he made a month in half the time. He never thought porn would be his profession, especially being considered a late bloomer and losing his virginity at 20 to a random girl from The Hideout. His look made him distinct, which he knew, but this was in a positive way. 

His edgy persona and taste was combated by his warmness, making him appealing to the ever growing female centric demographic, he could be rough as long as it showed he cared. He was also endearing to the queer crowd, finding his outlandishness and comfortability relatable and easier to ease into than most mainstream content. 

“Hey kiddo!” Bill waved, coffee steaming from his mug, sipping it loudly before refreshingly sighing, “How’s my favorite rockstar?”

Despite their weird meeting, Bill became a mentor for Eddie over the past few months as his films gained popularity. He learned the ins and outs of the industry, who was worthy of working with and who you should avoid like the plague. 

“Just peachy, Captain.” Eddie saluted, going for his dressing room in the front hallway that connected to the various rooms used for filming. The room was painted a soft green and had become personalized as Eddie stayed longer. Black Sabbath, W.A.S.P. and old Corroded Coffin posters, Sweetheart the guitar on the dedicated stand, and a mug on his vanity that was filled with pens and miscellaneous things he always forgot to remove. 

Turning on his boombox, he removed his black sweatpants and tank top, leaving him in tight boxers that left little to the imagination. Shrugging on the fanciest thing he owned, he absorbed the warmth of the freshly dried robe that had his name embroidered in golden thread on the breast. 

The guitar riffs of Tony Iommi flooded his ears, practicing the notes with an invisible guitar despite the real one in arms reach. A steady knock interrupted his train of thought as he huffed, pausing the song with a click and marching to his door to swing it open.

“Oh hey, I just figured I'd say hi.” A girl said, standing with your feet turned in and hands at the strap of the messenger bag slung over your shoulder. A floral, knee length dress covered you modestly and the flat white sneakers on your feet showed stark contrast in your heights. 

“Sup, Eddie.” He pursed his lips together and shut the door, hitting the play button once more. This wasn’t the first time a friend of a star came on set, tried to flirt and then had a fit. He just didn’t have the energy to care at this point, deciding to resume his attention to the scathing voice of Ozzy himself.

As the track concluded, he heard the call to set, a signal that still brought chills down his spine. Despite being a seasoned professional, it was still relatively awkward to get naked and orgasm in front of people. Thankfully he often worked with a consistent background crew and only had to gamble on which star he would be paired with, unless it was a solo scene which was a whole other set of nerves. 

Shaking his shoulders, he took a deep breath and bounced on his toes. He grabbed the old bottle of perfume he had claimed as his own once an actor left it, spraying it over his chest as it cooled his skin. Fluffing his hair in the mirror, he meticulously fiddled with it as if someone's hands wouldn’t run through it in mere minutes. 

With his game face on, he sauntered to the backroom that was painted black with a soundstage built inside it. The scene was set in a bedroom with beige walls and a floral comforter. Most of his scenes were moderate in nature, not entirely vanilla with some angsty elements. The more extreme ones weren’t very common and were, typically, with stars he had worked with before, which gave him a clue that this wasn’t one he had worked with before. 

“Alright! now, meet my main man, Eddie!” Bill announced from behind, declaring your name, as Eddie’s hair whipped quickly, his eyes setting on the same girl from before, now in just a robe. His eyes enlarged briefly before returning to normal size, looking you up and down. Bill ushered you further onto set, giving you a tour of the studio as Eddie walked to the prop bed. Plopping down, he heard the spring squeak as he sat, his leg instantly beginning to shake impatiently. 

He typically knew who his co-stars were, either from peers in the industry or having seen one of their films himself. But he had no idea who this was. He rubbed the corner of his lips, feeling a bit of toothpaste that accidentally traveled with him and wiped it off. 

Frantic Bill was not the most enjoyable one, but it was the one the staff always received the morning of shooting. With four cups of coffee and counting, mixed with employees asking questions that could wait till after they were wrapped or mistakes that could be easily avoided, Bill was borderline manic. 

“Alright Eddie, you don’t make me nervous, I know that you know what to do. But our new starlet is fresh, she’s only done solo flicks, so if somethings off, just say the word and we’ll adjust.” Bill rambled, hand twitching against his blue jeans that had patches of faded denim scattered across them from continuous wear. 

Eddie nodded, “Okay cool, just wondering though, why am I working with a newcomer?” The question was warranted, he was quickly becoming one of the most sought after male actors and it was almost unheard of to have someone of his level with someone so inexperienced. VHS tapes were flying off shelves that had his name scribbled across them and he didn’t want one bad tape to ruin the rest of them.

The older man chuckled, placing a firm hand on Eddie's shoulder and jolting it playfully. “She’s a natural, her solos were so popular, people were writing to the fucking distributers about when her first paired scene would happen!” 

Before Eddie could question anymore, Bill walked away with the beckon of his name, but you strolled over shortly after. While Eddie didn’t want to deal with the awkward situation he had dug himself into, it was better than ruminating in his own thoughts, so he turned when he felt the edge of the bed sink beside him.

He recalled your name mentioned earlier, but pushed it back as it was unprofessional to use a partner's name while filming.The name usually stitched on the robe typically matched their stage name, so that was the only one that needed familiarity. 

“Eos?” Eddie snorted, making your head snap in his direction as he read the name on you. Your eyebrows furrowed, tilting your head to get a better look at his. his eyes were downcasted, focusing on the bracelets on his wrists. 

“Yes?” You replied, bringing one leg to bend on the bed, facing his side profile “I didn’t mean to interrupt you earlier, I just wanted to introduce myself-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, just another scene, yeah?” He interjected, but only made you more confused than before. Of course you knew his name already and practically made yourself sick from nerves on the taxi over, but now you subtly wished you had been assigned with someone else. 

The atmosphere was thick as the bustling crew assembled the equipment, clattering metal against the firm floor. You focused on the blush fake carpet beneath your feet, looking at the roots of the fabric and counting how many knots there were. It helped calm your already present nerves that only increased due to your partner’s reserved mood. 

“Hey!” A voice called, snapping both of your attentions to the cameraman who diverted his attention to you, peering through the lens, “I’m Rich, let’s get some angle ideas while we wait, I already know Eddie's. If you’re comfortable we could try it without the robe”

You nodded as Eddie placed his hands on his knees, standing up with a groan. Stretching his back, it popped loud enough to make you flinch as you stood. You slid off your garment to reveal a simple pink bra with light lace with a matching set of panties that fit you perfectly. Returning to the sheets, you sat in the previous position and adjusted your hair.

“Let's try one against the pillows, legs bent and spread. Again, feel free to veto any placement or cover yourself.” He affirmed, but you nodded, scooting back until you hit the plush pillows. settling against them, your legs slowly dragged open, holding onto the back of your knees to steady yourself.

Eddie made the mistake of looking up as Rich commanded you into compromising positions, having you on your elbows and knees, skin shining beneath the bright lights. Taking a hard swallow, he went to fetch some water, hoping everything would be sorted out by the time he returned. To his luck, he was now late.

“Munson! Showtime!” Rich hollered from the main room just as the bottle hit his lips, chugging the whole thing as he walked, using the back of his wrist to wipe at the corner of his mouth. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, hands in lap and ankles daintily crossed. 

Tossing the empty bottle in a trash can, he reached the blinding lights as a stylist came up to him to fix his hair. This was clearly not a scene that needed much excess, as there was no script prewritten or plot, this was pure sex. Your face had light makeup on, contrast to some of his other scenes where his partners wore charcoal black or vibrant reds, which was good as well.

Shrugging down his layers, he stood in his underwear, hands resting on his hips with a tilt as each stylist made their finishing touches on both of you.

Eddie watched as you gnawed on the inside of your lip, the foot balancing on the other, shaking sporadically with nerves. He remembers his first scene, not having done solo till later, where the woman was almost twice his age with a sultry voice. Before this gig, girls wouldn’t give him the time of day and he figured it had something to do with him. When in reality, he just had to get the fuck out of Hawkins.

The woman's long acrylics dragged across his pale skin as she rode him, praising his dick and how good he was making her feel by just existing. Thankfully the analytical aspects of the industry, like stopping mid-thrust to put more mascara on or to adjust a curtain, helped keep him emotionally removed from his co-workers. 

“Give ‘em hell, kid.” Bill winked, punching your shoulder gently before retreating behind the camera. It helped to have people like Bill on set, someone who wouldn’t sexualize his stars despite the context of the work, to him you were people. It wasn’t common to receive this kind of treatment, especially as a woman.

You nodded curtly, positioning to stand near the side of the bed, facing where Eddie stood. His attention was diverted towards the crew, face blank as he listened to a conversation he wasn’t involved in. You observed the varying tripods being set up at different locations, counting at least four cameras that would be utilized during this.

“Quiet on set!” Bill yelled, the whole room falling into automatic silence, “Now, since this is ‘Eos’ first partner scene and Eddie is fairly seasoned, we’re gonna start with just improv. Do what feels right, just have sex at some point.” 

Eddie's lip tilted to a faint smirk as he gave a thumbs up while you stuck to nodding, you’d probably pull a neck muscle by the end of this. The crew gave their calls to begin, another man standing fairly close with a boom microphone above your heads, but carefully out of frame. While everything felt so robotic, you put your head in the zone, the man who won’t even bother to look your way is the love of your life for the next hour. 

“Action!” Bill's voice boomed, Eddie's eyes finally flickering towards yours. They were a soft brown, twinkling with underlying mischief, as he sauntered towards you. Looking up at him, you glanced at his lips, still decorating a subtle grin, before shutting your eyes. 

His lips pressed against yours, soft and damp from the water he had downed. There was a hint of tobacco lingering from his mouth as he opened it more, sliding his tongue against yours. You barely registered how one of his hands cupped your cheek while the other found home at your waist. 

His touch was firm, calloused fingertips itching your skin and tucking hair behind your ear. You grasped his biceps, still weary of what kind of touch was acceptable. Walking backwards, you fell onto your bottom on the mattress. Eddie let out a soft laugh as your cheeks burned, but the film rolled on as you scooted further on the bed, your white heels on the comforter.

“You’re gonna have to change your sheets now, Sweetheart.” He remarked cockily, yanking your ankles in both hands to lift the shoes from the fabric as you laid down. His fingers danced against the buckle of the shoe, brushing past the veins on top of your feet. 

“Give me a better reason to wash them.” You smiled, looking at him through your lashes and fluttering them for extra effect. An eyebrow of his shot up as he lowered his attention to the lace covering you, pulling the lower half down your legs.

Tossing the flimsy piece to the ground, he lowered himself to hover above you, meeting your lips again as his clothed cock rubbed against your bare pussy. His nose pressed against yours, a bit cold against your burning skin, with his teeth catching your lower lip. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heels pressing lightly into his thighs

“Good, wanted to fuck you in these all night anyways.” He remarked, slinking back to put your legs against his chest, pressing a quick kiss to your inner ankle. Despite his vulgarity, the faint moments of affection were assuring. 

Eddie crouched down, resting between your legs and practically wearing your plush thighs. Nipping gently at the sensitive skin, his grip moved to your knees, pushing them to the sides as he inched closer to your throbbing sex.

His talent of cunnilingus should have been no surprise as he had given you no reason to doubt his mouth's abilities, he was just usually too busy being a bit of a smart ass for you to admire it thus far. But just as his lips moved against yours carefully, he repeated against your lower set. 

The silk skin danced too delicately against his coarse breath, your wetness giving him more accessibility to drag it up and down. You let out a shaky breath which fluctuated to a moan as he sucked your clit. Your head threw back as his digits ran through your slick until his middle one plunged into your cunt. 

“Oh fuck.” You muttered, hands resting upon your own breasts, trailing over your nipples as they perked up. You shuttered as Eddie found your deepest point, retreating to add another finger and finding it again swiftly. 

A moan left his mouth, giving extra vibrations to coarse through your veins and a hint of pride. His hips jutted against the bed as he indulged between your legs, he wanted to make a joke about how you were definitely eating pineapple, but opted not to as you moaned again. 

“Want you in my mouth, please.” You breathed, propping up on your elbows as his brown iris flashed to yours. He made a show of your dripping ecstasy on his fingers while you sat up, flattening your tongue against them before sucking them clean. 

He tried his best to hide his shock, focusing on freeing himself of his last bit of clothing, hissing as it sprang free and fell to the floor next to yours. He stepped back to give you room to kneel before him, racking a hand through his mane as you unclasped your bra. It joined the haphazard pile beside you as you inched closer until your tongue slid against the underside of his length.

“Hope it’ll all fit in my mouth, want to taste all of it.” You remarked, letting your lips graze his balls, showing how large his cock was compared to your face. A money shot.

While Eddie hadn’t paid much attention to you beforehand, he definitely was now. Especially as he watched you jerk him and took turns sucking on his balls. He let a string of curses slip past his lips, shutting his eyes with his head tilted back. He felt your attention diverted as gentle kisses pressed against his thigh and then his cock.

“Hmp, aren’t you sweet?” he mused, looking down and putting hands in your hair as you sucked on his tip, “Giving me kisses, you spoil me, beautiful.” He watched as you took more of him, cheeks hollowing and spit accumulating around him. 

Things were running much smoother than Eddie initially predicted. He didn’t expect much, which was a good start. During his first few videos, he thought he would fall in love with everyone, but always ended up annoyed. 

There was a seamless transition as he helped you back onto the bed, kissing you despite both of your juices on opposing lips. His forearm helped him balance as you cupped his face, deepening the embrace as he slid himself through your fold. As his tip intruded, you whimpered into the kiss, making him stop half way.

“You okay?” He whispered, head lifting a tad, seeing a small hint of glaze across them. You nodded, kissing him again feverishly as he pushed in. He thrusted shallowly, taking time to get you adjusted to his size rather than immediately going for it, which you appreciated. 

The sounds you produced were salacious, but flowed so effortlessly as the tempo accelerated. He watched as you bounced, breasts matching his pace in harmony. His mouth danced across your neck, sucking at any spot that elicited a favorable noise, making his way down to your chest.

As his lips wrapped around the bud, you cried out, hands going for his hair and heels pressing to his ass. Growling, he popped off, fondling the other breast to showcase a similar response. You were so responsive and it never seemed inauthentic, it just happened. 

“Can feel you squeezin’ me'' Eddie began, resting his forehead against yours, “Come for me, do it.” He gritted as you whimpered, nails trailing down his back as your body relaxed further into his touches. 

“You feel so good, I'm gonna come.” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he rubbed your bundle of nerves. You withered against his chest until succumbing to his witchcraft, riding it out until Eddie had to pull out. His cock was a bright red as he pumped it, aiming for your stomach as he chased his conclusion. 

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s my girl.” He chanted as white ropes decorated your lower tummy, a blissful smile coming to his face as you regain your composure. You swiped your fingers through his masterpiece, humming as you tasted it.

“This is definitely worth a trip to the laundromat.” You bit your lip, suppressing the cheeky smile until you heard them call cut. 

Both of you jumped at the sudden noise, seemingly in a daze for the past 30 minutes. His body felt electric as he came down from his orgasm, sitting beside you on the bed as an assistant gave you towels and your robes.

Eddie watched as the black towel absorbed the remaining mess on your stomach, dipping in your belly button to be sure it was all clean. He stood and threw on his robe, warm as someone returned it to the dryer. He heard you sigh as you put yours on, embracing the warmth on your nude body.

“Oh, you are gonna be huge!” Bill exclaimed, hands clapping together, “You were a fucking natural!” Your cheeks warmed furiously at his remarks, crossing your arms against your waist. 

“And you, my boy, killer per usual!” Bill concluded, pushing his large glasses on his nose before racing to the crew to start cleaning up. While he had just spent the past half an hour inside you, Eddie was at a loss for words. 

He debated on saying how you really were picking it up naturally, that it was a fun scene to film, but that was too much. Too much for his post-finish mind and the fact he didn’t usually mingle with people he only worked with once. 

“‘Kay, see ya ‘round.” He interrupted the silence, walking off to his dressing room without even looking in your direction. You stood in slight shock, but went to your respective room, just yours was a guest suite. 

It was naive to believe one scene would lead to friendship, but a basic conversation would’ve been appreciated. you had to just keep reminding yourself why you’re here and that is for yourself. To pay your bills, to abide by your schedule, and to make you happy. Eddie munson wasn’t going to ruin that for you. 

—--

“Can you please not smoke that in my car!” Steve huffed while making a left turn, focusing on the road as an exhausted Eddie sat next to him, cigarette between his lips. The sun was on the cusp of rising as they made their way to the studio, one of the only cars on the road and surrounded by neon signs that informed of free rooms or late night specials. 

“Sorry.” Eddie grumbled, flicking the tobacco out the window and onto the cement. The soft hint of smoke was visible in the rear view until a truck drove over it, but he closed his eyes shortly after.

While he had left many people back in Hawkins, he didn’t expect two people to follow him; Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. They had gotten close a few months prior, an interesting dynamic of personalities that were all eccentric, but worked surprisingly well under one roof. The pair was looking for an out, equally tired of the dreary atmosphere of the small town they grew up in.

The circumstances of Eddie’s new career were not discovered until Steve and Robin worked at a Family Video in the big city, sorting through the new content to see their best friend and roommate kissing the neck of a busty woman. After staring at the plastic case, they shoved it in her bag under the counter and continued with their day. 

“Dude!” Robin exclaimed, slamming the front door to their apartment, Steve barely squeezing in. Eddie jumped in the recliner, clutching his chest, whipping his head around to see them rushing forward. She flung the tape into his lap, still astounded at the obscure situation they were now in. Just a few months prior, Eddie couldn’t even get laid, now he was doing it for his career.

Boisterously laughing, he held it up next to his face, “They went with this picture?” 

Hours of stories ensued over what his newfound career consisted of, such as who he worked with or discovering that cherry lube makes him break out in hives. The three laughed without an ounce of awkwardness, but he found something in Steve’s eyes, curiosity. 

Steve’s first scene would be later that week and he quickly became a fellow golden boy of the studio, soft features that enchanted audiences, but had dominance if needed. He ended up enjoying it more than he thought he would, treating it seriously and not just an excuse to have sex. Eddie caught him making a data sheet for work and bullied him for two weeks about it.

“It’s alright, man, I know it’s early.” Steve calmed his tone, pulling into the parking lot with sparse cars. Early morning shoots weren’t Eddie's forte, but Steve did them frequently, so he tagged along since he had a scene right after. 

The sound of combat boots and sneakers hit the hard floor as the duo walked in to find the snack table littered with donuts, fruit, and coffee. Rummaging through to find the perfect ensemble of breakfast options, Steve cringed as Eddie put four bags of sugar and two creams into his small coffee.

“Fuck off man, I can’t smoke my cigs or drink coffee in peace?” Eddie jested, bumping his shoulder with his own as he walked to Steve’s dressing room. He gave a quick wave to the production assistants that were setting up, observing the room they created in the few hours since Eddie had been here last night for his own scene with you. 

Rolling his eyes, Steve ate quickly before undressing and putting on his own robe while his friend sat and flipped through the random magazines on the table. He began reading about the latest Mustang model and the new advantages, not even registering Steve leaving.

Eddie still had his van, the same one he got for his 17th birthday after Uncle Wayne met him halfway with funds. With consistent income, he could afford a better car with some extra detailing, but he didn’t see the need. His van did what it needed; It drove, it had air conditioning, and it could play loud music.

Interrupting his reading was the sound of his stomach rumbling, making him rise to head to the snack table, toeing off his boots to avoid making extra noise. The sound of mumbling was heard through the walkway, the room for snacks and costumes connected to the filming room. Flinching as Rich yelled for the set to be quiet, he munched on his chocolate donut that covered his fingertips. 

“Good morning.” He heard Steve mumble, a husky morning voice that wasn’t too much of a stretch from his real one, but it made Eddie want to laugh nonetheless. Sticking his finger in his mouth and popping it off, he turned to make his way to reclusion.

“Morning handsome.” You replied pleasantly, making Eddie freeze. He didn’t even consider the fact you would be here today, yesterday was your first duet anyways, but now curiosity was getting the best of him as he walked to the brim of the room. 

The decor was cozy, plain colors with an abstract outline painting or two on the faux walls. You laid beside Steve, comforter pooled around both your waists as his hand relaxed at the edge, rubbing soothing circles. Stretching your back, you squeaked pleasantly at pop, your lingerie dress frame pushing closer to his chest.

Your noses rubbed against each other briefly as you inched closer, his lips trailing down to your neck, sloppy pecks slowly decorating your skin.

“What are you up to?” You giggled, pushing away playfully and laying your back against the white sheets. 

He gave a fake gasp, “What? Am I not allowed to love my girlfriend?” 

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” He clarified, brushing some of your hair away from your face, “I just like to do it this way.” He met your mouth in a sweet kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as he shifted on top of you.

Eddie watched captivated, he usually found watching his friends scenes more boring than anything, he had seen Steve’s penis more times than he would've liked. Your skin glistening under the gentle glow of the rising sun that was shining through the window, it seemed almost angelic. 

Steve pulled off your dress revealing no underwear, making him laugh earnestly as you covered your face. He grabbed your wrist and pulled them away, pecking your cheeks and nose.

“Oh, but I'm the vulgar one?” He teased, pushing his own boxers down until you were both nude. Fitting almost like a puzzle piece, his body leaned against yours as he slid a finger through your wet folds. The boom mic picked up the lewd sound, hearing it through the operator's headphones only a few feet in front of Eddie. 

He blushed at the noise even though a day before he had his face between your thighs. He watched as Steve thrusted inside you, finding a pace quickly as if he had made love to you for years prior. 

The growing intimacy of the scene made Eddie feel like a voyeur, observing as an attentive boyfriend pleasing his sweet girlfriend without an ounce of masochism. He wishes you had received a script yesterday and that he got more opportunities to do scenes like this, where he could play a passionate devotee.

While he only did hardcore scenes every other week, he still boardered the line more often than someone like Steve. Eddie’s looks were a blessing and a curse, finding himself in more obscure settings than just ones of a lover. He wasn’t boyfriend material in the industry or in general, seemingly. 

His own strife was interrupted to the sound of skin slapping, finding you bouncing on top of Steve with your hands planted on his chest. Your knees were secured at his sides, running a hand through your hair as it leaned back, moaning as Steve went further inside you. 

Hips swiveling in a calculated motion that seemed effortless, he groaned as his feet pushed against the blanket. Hugging you to his front and propping up his feet, he began thrusting into you as you cried out.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck-” He moaned, “I love you.” 

“I love you so much, don’t stop, please!”

With no doubt it was 100% acting, Eddie still felt a foreign clench in his chest as he watched Steve ‘make love’ to you. He wishes he hadn’t been so skittish yesterday as he thought of how his actions may have been perceived, palming his face subconsciously as he went to his own dressing room now.

It was a half hour before his own scene, but he grabbed his outfit on the way, observing the dark latex. It was an intense scene, recalling Bill mentioning a BDSM shoot this week as he looked at the calendar hanging behind his door. While he tried his damn hardest to not bring his own issues into his work, part of him felt frustrated and he was unsure if it was due to sexual needs or emotionally.

Taking off his day clothes, he was only in a set of latex pants that clung to him so closely, he was worried he would rip them before he even started. It still felt foreign to be the subject of attraction, more similar to a facade rather than true confidence. While the films brought him a better sense of self, sometimes as he looked in the mirror into his own eyes, he saw himself in high school, washing off the food someone threw at him.

Shaking his thoughts, he grabbed a cigarette from his discarded jacket and cracked open the window. Cupping the tip, he lit the end to inhale the tobacco, sighing as it infiltrated and evacuated his lungs. The wind blew at his bangs, reminding him to get a trim at some point before his vision was impaired.

As the stick faded into smoke, Eddie watched the cars driving past quickly, loud music and honking slotting between the breeze. The warmth nipped at his fingertips with a hiss, smashing it against the window sill and sweeping the ash. Flicking it into the bin and slumping on the couch, he was interrupted by a faint knock.

“Hey killer.” The voice called, waiting a moment before appearing with a cheeky smile. Leaning against the wooden door was Angie, a woman Eddie and Steve had both worked with numerous times, dressed in black lingerie under her slightly opened robe with hair and makeup done with precision. She was a veteran, starting in the late 70s when tapes were slowly becoming more accepted, and now in her early 30s.

“Hey, Ang!” Eddie smiled, “You my partner today?” She nodded, stepping further in as the door shut. She was one of the nicer women he worked with, not that most were vile, but she was warm. She never let you feel her stress or inhibitions, doing a scene with her meant you could relax into it, no matter how intense.

“Nice pants.” She snickered as Eddie's legs swung clumsily, rising with an eye roll. Following her out, he slipped on his own robe as they walked towards the other studio room. 

“Hey Ang?” Eddie began hesitantly, “Is it okay if we’re a little rougher today? If not, totally cool.” He felt weird asking for what he wanted in scenes, but if it was going to be a dominant and submissive one, it seemed like a good time to ask.

Nodding with a hum, she adjusted the strap on her shoe and held his shoulder prohibiting his walk. Giving him a pat, she walked again, fluffing her hair as they entered the stage. The black room was filled with various devices, from vibrators, paddles, ropes and any other thing you could think of.

The shoot wasn’t a long one, all of these devices wouldn’t be used, but his curiosity peaked when she ran her nail against the objects, deciding which ones she felt comfortable using. He, or the director, would be allowed to veto if they didn’t see fit, but it had to be something she was comfortable with in the first place. 

The manicured hand gathered her weapons, laying them on the bed in a jumbled manor. A vibrator, paddle, rope, and lube. These mixed with his own hands kick started his adrenaline as they spoke through the guidelines, some of her own rules and his. No spitting (her), no hickeys (both, makes filming other scenes difficult), and others. With her back against the black leather, his thighs squeaking beneath the latex, he took a deep breath as the red light flashed over the camera.

—

“Hey dude, have you seen the TV remote?” Robin called out to Eddie as he stepped inside their apartment, her head pressed to the floor as she looked under the sofa. Lifting his shoe, he began to pull at the laces and toss them to the cubby in the entrance hallway between Steve’s trainers and Robin’s sneakers.

He shrugged making his way in the kitchen, opening the cupboard to mostly half empty bags of chips or cereal. Digging through, he found no luck on food, but helped his friend solve her problem.

“Why the fuck is the remote in the pantry?” Eddie laughed, turning around and throwing it her way, dropping it almost instantly. Rolling her eyes with a grunt, the TV clicked on and was placed on the side table. 

Eventually settling on Lucky Charms, he grabbed an obnoxiously large bowl and filled it, finding a medium sized spoon to eat it with. He hated using large spoons and would rather eat it with a knife than a spoon that had way too many pieces on it. Flopping onto the old sofa, sock clad feet crossing over the ottoman, the pair watched a rerun of Match Game.

“How was work?” Robin broke the silence, seeing Eddie’s mouth filled with milk seeping out, his hand coming up to wipe it as he chewed.

While the nature of the men’s work seemed scandalous, there was no one who took it as comedically as Robin. Initially astounded that she not only befriended, but roomed with porn stars was soon turned to amusement at the true antics behind the theatrics. She’s seen Eddie scream after having to wax his ass, gone to pick Steve up from the studio after he fell mid scene and twisted his ankle, and both of them getting pink eye from fluid in their eyes.

The uncountable amount of stories she could recollect would make a killer coffee table book and she was always up to hearing more. While she could make an impulsive face, the last thing she’d do would genuinely judge them, all three of them could be themselves. 

When they all moved in together, Robin had to come out to Eddie, feeling the same pit in her stomach as when she told Steve. The speech she mentally prepared of, “Oh it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable living with me, I’ll find somewhere else.” Was quickly dissolved when Eddie nonchalantly responded with, “Shit, I love pussy too, much better than a dude’s ass. Trust me.”

She didn’t ask further about that one initially, though. 

“It was fine, worked with Angie on this BDSM scene.” He replied, taking another bite as the laugh track rolled in the back. She nodded, fingers fiddling with the cuff on her blue jeans, eyebrows raising in curiosity.

“Really? I feel like you haven’t mentioned one of those in a while.” She added, looking at him again, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. He wasn’t a prude, in any sense of the word, but the scene today was enough to make warmth rise.

“Nah, it’s been a week,” He chuckled, “It was pretty intense. Choking, spanking, orgasm denial, vibrators- I mean at one point she started crying. She was okay though, didn’t safeword or anything, but it was one of those scenes that makes both of you fucking exhausted.”

Their attention was pulled to the switch of programming, seeing a rerun of The Golden Girls come on, bobbing their head to the catchy tune. Unsure as to why, but they typically ended up watching it at least once a week, joking that Robin was Rose, Steve was Blanche, and Eddie was Dorthy. 

“Ah gotcha. Steve came back for like 5 minutes then went to lunch with his scene partner.” She divulged, taking a sip from her water, “She was nice.”

“Yeah, I had a scene with her yesterday, but I think I came off like a dick. I was kind of.” Eddie admitted, setting the empty bowl down and pulling at the hair on his brow. The constant scolding from not only Wayne, but his management team didn’t defer him from the anxious habit. He once had to wear eyebrow makeup during a particularly stressful week, a hole forming that Bill insisted be covered.

He thought back to the glimpse of their scene, wrapped arms around each other in genuine pleasure. The sunlight hitting skin just right with breathy moans infiltrating his subconscious. 

Robin nodded, if anyone would understand coming off wrong, it would be her. They had both been guilty of a loose mouth, babbling unintentionally or making an offhand comment. It was never done in malice. Social cues, anxiety, or insecurity always seemed to smack them right in the face.

“Don’t get in your head about it, Eds.” She assured, hand draping over the back of the couch, “It was one scene, from the sound of it, she’ll be around more. Just try to extend an olive branch. Steve is just a charismatic doofus, especially with the ladies which I’ll never understand why.”

Steve’s innate ability to captivate women, and men, was a God-given talent. It was hard for anyone to really dislike Steve, it explains how his polar opposites became his best friends, even though as they grew closer they discovered more similarities. Truthfully, it was something Eddie envied, how he could walk in a room and people would gravitate. Eddie had to fight for his relationships or they started over a common interest, like Hellfire or Corroded Coffin. 

As Eddie opened his mouth to reply, the sound of the key turning had their heads turning to watch as you and Steve walked in. Both much more awake than they were hours before, smiling as their conversation from outside fizzled out. 

“Hey Robin, Eddie.” You chirped, voice light as you threw an awkward wave, falling at your side with a reticent laugh. Steve pushed his yellow sweater to his elbows as the door shut behind them, walking fully into the living room as Steve called your name.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you guys filmed together yesterday!” Steve quipped, hand leaning against the opposing couch as you stood beside him. You looked notably relaxed at the moment, despite your cool composure at work, Eddie liked seeing his coworkers outside to see how much of a persona they exuded.

“Yeah.” He coughed, sitting forward to lean on his knees, “It was a good scene, you were great.” He cursed himself for his voice dropping half an octave as his nerves ate at him, he wanted to be your friend, but with no figurines or records to bond over, he was struggling to find new resources.

You nodded, tucking hair behind your ear and thanking him. It felt nice to have reassurance after what had occurred the day before. He seemed reserved as he did yesterday, but there was a hint of a smile, leaving the smirk behind in front of lights.

Steve bid you farewell as you left their place, the room silent until he reentered, slightly baffled. Throwing his hands up in confusion, staring directly at the mop-headed boy on the couch who was  trying to pretend The Golden Girls was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.

“What was that? She said you were kind of a douche yesterday, my words not hers, she was more polite.” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms, “She’s super nice and our age!”

“Listen, I didn’t mean to come off as a dick, okay? I guess I just get awkward with new people.” Eddie huffed, rubbing his hands over his face laced with tension. Shit, he needed a cigarette.

“What are you even saying, you hit it off with all of them at work? You will talk anyones ear off about DND or one of the bands you like!” Steve exasperated, not believing Eddie’s comment in the slightest. He had befriended most on set, but he can admit he had become slightly more reserved in comparison to his high school tyraids. 

Eddie scoffed, grabbing his bowl, walking past Robin who sat in atypical silence. As the boys relocated to the kitchen, she rushed to her bedroom, leaving the door open to hear any juicy details for her future memoir.

“I don’t know, man. I’m gonna try to be more open, some things have just been off lately.” Eddie revealed, hands on the kitchen sink rim, “I can’t take it out on her or anybody. Hopefully we’ll work together again so I can strike a conversation.”

Steve nodded slowly, Eddie never talked about his feelings, even vaguely. The revelation must have been a significant act of exposure, so he quit the banter, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s not permanent, I’m sure she’s cool. Hey! Let’s go to Dinos together, maybe this weekend?” Steve suggested, recalling their local bar, that would be good for getting to know each other better, while hearing Robin’s door open quickly as she hurried in.

“Oo that sounds fun! Let’s go to Dinos!” Robin proclaimed, elbowing Steve jokingly, while Eddie shrugged and agreed. The two others walked away, leaving him to clean his cereal bowl in silence. The pack in his pocket practically etched into his skin as he finished up, going to their porch and shutting the sliding glass behind him.

The sun was down, but the sky was still light, bright colored stars decorating the galaxy in abstract shapes. The crescent moon was behind some faint clouds, making it appear murky in comparison. Grabbing his lighter, he lit the stick swiftly and inhaled the tobacco.

Sitting on the cheap lawn chair, his feet propped up against the rickety railing, the sound of rust colliding with his socks. The faint buzz of street lights beneath him hummed in his ear as he tapped his fingers, closing his eyes as he took a drag.

Eddie tried his best not to be philosophical or ponder too much on his past, always finding himself more frustrated than rehabilitated. But as he got older, he found it harder to ignore his own conscience. Sometimes his brain drifted off in a direction it typically didn’t, a road that included no killer guitar solos or the voices of those around him. 

He kept having a recurring dream about this road. He stood in the middle, surrounded by struggling crops, entering a season foreign to them. Sometimes he would be in younger, shaved head and baggy jeans, a teenager in a gym uniform, or now with a costume on from work like a pizza delivery outfit. Initially struggling to pinpoint if he had encountered this place before, he soon found solace in it, even if it just existed for him. 

Part of him liked going to sleep, knowing he’d have a chance to find this place where the road was disintegrating haltingly, the paint chipping in chunks. As his hand ran against the chair he sat in, he could picture himself there, skimming past the rotting produce. 

The cigarette between his lips neared its end, the fire fizzling into smoke as he stumped it out. He heard the phone ring beside him, the cord connected inside, the one that was placed out here when Robin heard too much of a phone call between Steve and a one night stand. Privacy is sacred nowadays. Especially for Robin, apparently.

“Hello?” Eddie gruffed, coughing with a bit of rustiness, sniffling at the chilly air. 

“Eddie! My boy!” Bill cheered, practically seeing the cigar between his teeth. Eddie let out a puff of air, smiling and running fingers against his brows.

“What’s up, Bill?” Eddie inquired, calls later in the day were fairly uncommon due to how often Eddie and Steve were at the studio. He wasn’t even supposed to work tomorrow.

“I got news, kiddo. Management thinks Eos will be our next big thing, but they’re debating on releasing her video with Steve before the one with you.” Bill explained as Eddie placed the phone between his cheek and shoulder. 

He should’ve seen this coming, kicking himself as his eyes shut tight. He shouldn’t be frustrated at Steve, his best friend who had been there for him more times than he could count and vice versa. But sometimes as he looked at him, he felt a burning in his chest, not of anger or jealousy or desire, it was more obscure. 

It felt like being in middle school, entering a new school after moving a city over to live with Wayne. His stature was smaller than those around him, not yet hitting a significant growth spurt or the latter part of puberty. The older boys surrounding him laughed with deep voices, clothes that weren’t too baggy or too tight, and with friends who seemingly didn’t care about either of those things. Eddie cared about not having things that came natural to some boys, like charisma or stereotypical looks. Even as he had grown to like his appearance, sometimes twelve year old Eddie stands before him all alone, like he had been for years.

“I think yours should be first, but they need more convincing, think you can come in tomorrow at 9? We can discuss with both of you what the scene should be themed, then a few hours later we’ll shoot. Nothing crazy, just something simple and sweet.” Bill interjected the man's internal monologue, jolting him to stand straighter, hand on the phone. Simple and sweet rang through his ears more than it should.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Thanks.” He replied as he wished him a goodnight, leaving him alone once more with the sound of static. 

Simple and sweet.

Finally.

authors note: hi there! its been a minute since i posted but i put my ussy into this so i hope u enjoy. have an amazing day lovelies mwah

taglist: @steeldaisies @meaganjm @masterofmunson @downbythebay4 @femalefilmaker @wiltedwonderland @yourthebrokengirlngirl @jessyballet @iheartyouyou @gloryekaterina @missscarlettangell @variety-fangirl @wigglywoos59 @thegirlblogstuff @lovelyladymayyy @ktjmac @dovesnrosesnreblogs @fknemily @spn-obession  @imagine-all-the-imagines @fangirl-hoe @deementedforever @hellfire-in-hawkinskins @cutiecusp @azydrateanatomy @edsforehead @harrys-tittie

if you'd like to be tagged just let me know :)

[bo0tleg]

Gems me and my friend said watching Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) for the first time;

"This man (Harry) is neurodivergent." "OH MY GOD I WAS GONNA SAY THAT TOO."

"We're twenty minutes in and this guy only gets screwed! Can someone screw him good, for once, please?"

"Gay isn't even doing much." "His name is Perry." ".... I thought Perry was his last name." "What, no, his last name is Van something something." "Then why do they call him Gay Perry?"

"No straight guy would say 'I'm profoundly within the pussy.'" "It's knees deep in pussy." "Oh."

"I thought he meant that he's deep within the pussy." "No, he's just surrounded by it. Like there's a lot of pussy." "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!"

"... He's not a very good detective is he?"

"Do you know what f*ggot means?" "No."

"By the lord, what can go wrong now-- OH MY GOD THE CORPSE"

"HE WASN'T HIRED TO FIND THE MURDER, HE WAS HIRED TO HIDE THE CORPSE!" (This notion was proved, in fact, wrong)

"I just imagine someone seeing that corpse flying off the roof and bei-- AAAAAAHHHHHH KISS?!"

*Lost our shit when Harmony appeared after the Kiss* "DUDE! Oh my god... This guy.... He has to explain the kiss, and why the cops are looking for him, AND the corpse is still there, with the car shaking from Perry manhandling it. What can he say?"

Harry, on screen: "I managed to convince her that I wasn't gay." "HOW?"

"Love the snap snap, you go girl." (About Perry)

"Harry's the only sane one in the group. He fucking screams when he sees the corpse, he screams when someone gets shot, he screams... He screams."

"Everybody else is too ok with everything going on in this shit."

"I can see Perry's foreboding shadow in the crowd, fully expected him to be the only one to lift his hand when Harmony asked who hates Harry."

"Did he just...." "Graciously duck away from a flying glass, yeap."

"Are these two (goons) having a couples bit right now?" "I mean, they said that... *Rewinds* They were wondering why a guy like him (Harry) was hanging out with gay people." "Do they mean themselves?" (They did NOT, in fact, mean themselves. They meant Perry.)

"Love how Harry's just watching them bickering like should I run? Should I stay? Do I kill myself?"

"Honey, you can't be stealthy with that outfit. The fucking pom pom borders on your skirt are literally shining in the light."

"Gay, stop frolicking and look at the car that's about to run you over."

"HOW DID SHE NOT SEE HIM IN THE CAR?" "He was asleep...."

"His finger is still fucked up by the way. He never did get to that fucking hospital."

"Imagine finding a stranger just walking into your house." "IMAGINE SLEEPING IN A CAR THAT'S NOT YOURS ON A RANDOM STREET AND WAKING UP IN SOMEONE'S HOUSE."

"Oop, and there goes the finger. To the butthole."

"I can't understand a single thing that's going on, but I don't even give a fuck."

"WHY is it so important that the dead girl wasn't wearing underwear!"

Perry, on screen: "This isn't Good Cop, Bad Cop, it's fag and New Yorker, now spill." *Both tumbled over in laughter, and proceeded to repeat that for the rest of the movie*

"Why does he look so happy at the prospect of getting patted down?"

"His penis can shoot?"

"You know, I'm starting to think that when he said he was knees deep in pussy, he was being sarcastic."

"He lost his neurodivergent sparkle... Now he's just traumatized...."

"IF PERRY DIES I'M KILLING MYSELF."

"Honey... That's not... How you fix a bullet wound..." "Shut up, he's using the opportunity he was given to smooch."

"We were fools..... They couldn't kill Perry, he's the only competent one. Shit wouldn't get done without him."

"Hey, look it's Abraham Lincoln!" "IS THAT FUCKING ELVIS PRESLEY?"

"He didn't end up with Perry.... I'm sad." "What the fuck are you talking about? That was Perry!" "THAT WAS PERRY? WHAT." "He just.... Has a Beard."

[kenlvry]

do you think you can write yandere kenny or do you not do those asks? even so do you have any rules on asks to?

yandere kenny

an: hello! i cann, but yes i do have rules, im gonna make this yandere as in kenny killing just not kidnapping or non-con things! kennys aged up in this, fem reader!

kenny has had his eyes on you ever since you moved into town in 4th grade, you treated everyone with respect and love. everyone loved you except for cartman of course, he always thought you were a devil sent from hell and was gonna take over the town because of how nice you were. you and kenny were no stranger, he always loosen up when hes with you and so do you, every friday you and him always went over to yours to talk and play games. he always was flirty to you, you loved it but knew he meant nothing because he acts like that to every girl and just don't want to get your heart broken. you had boyfriends before but they always ended up dying or breaking up with you for no good reason, kenny was always there to comfort you "those guys weren't even good enough for you, find a guy thats like me, for example .. me!" "you're not fucking helping ken!" you said sobbing. he was serious though. if your gonna get a boyfriend atleast find one that can buy you flowers?!? he hated every single boyfriend you had, why can't you see he was perfect for you? not all the bastards who dated you. he killed two men just for you, threaten 3 for you too! he's just waiting for the time you realize he's good for you, and you did!! you finally confessed to him and to your surprise he accepted you! you two been going out for 2 months now. although the new kid has gotten real touchy with you, everytime you see him he'd hug you or you two would walk close together. even hung out at his house once! god knows what you two were doing in there, kenny was planning to stalk but his house got em security cameras. if kenny threaten him it won't work he might even tell you on him!, killing him would make you go in despair because he knows hes your bestfriend. but then again you can just get over it. so now here he is in a dark shack with your boy bestfriend tied up on a chair "fuck, you know this wouldn't have happen if you didn't get so close to her." kenny said while slicking back his hair. "im going crazy just seeing her all bubbly to you." "fuck you kenny, you think this is how relationships work? killing any male within a 10 feet radius to her?" kenny didnt bother to wear his mysterion outfit, he had his tshirt on because with that orange parka on anybody could've seen him, and he wasn't going to be alive after this so who cares "you dont have to this! think about it if you kill me she's just gonna be deppressed!" kenny approached him putting on the gloves with an apron and a knife. "then i guess i gottta go buy some ice cream and tissues " with that he killed him, after so he cleaned himself and any evidence, the body he threw in a lake for the cops to deal with later. the next day when your ex besf was found dead in a lake got reported to the news you bawled your eyes out, kenny wasn't happy that youre sad but atleast that bastard is gone and he will continue to do so to every guy that even tries to get close to you. <33

[simphoursinc]

Ethan Landry/Fem!Reader

_____________________________

"Should we even be here? I mean, hello; all of us, in a bar, playing pool while trying to figure out who Ghostface is?" Everyone ignored Mindy, except Anika of course. Anika was cuddled into Mindy's arm, lazily glancing at the pool table everytime someone shot. "Do we need to pay attention to things like that?" Ethan was nervous, glancing at everyone around them, as if one of the fat old men drinking away their problems were going to casually put on a mask and attack. "Yes!" Mindy said, looking at him with narrowed eyes, "And last time, it was someone in our group, Ethan. If that is your real name." 

Ethan looked at her in confusion, and you rolled your eyes. "Lay off, Mindy." He smiled at you, thankful for the attention to be on someone else. Returning it, you pat his shoulder, "Don't worry, Landry. I'll protect you!" You flex your arm, grinning at him. He laughs, and holy shit it's still one of the best sounds you've ever heard. "Thanks, [Y/N], you're my hero." He said, pushing his wrist to his forehead and swooning. You giggled at him, and everyone around the two of you groaned. "Alright, love birds, we're in public." Chad said, and you pointedly glanced at his arm around Tara's waist causing him to scoff.

"Hey!" You turned around, seeing a man walking towards your table. You saw Mindy and Chad glance at each other out of the corner of your eyes and you moved to stand in front of the group. "[Y/N]..?" Ethan moves to stand next to you, looking between you and the man. "[Y/N]? Pretty name. What are you and your friends doing in a bar like this?" You lazily looked the man up and down, which caused him to smirk. Unfortunately for him, you weren't interested. "Listen, unless you're offering to buy us a round, I'm not interested." Chad went to stand by your other side, probably to back you up, but Ethan shook his head.

Good.

The man laughed, "Oh, I'm interested in buying one drink. All your little friends are just going to have to go home sober." You scoffed, if this guy thought you were going to go home with him, a complete stranger who's just as likely to not take no for an answer as slipping something in your drink, alone? He was batshit insane. You tell him as much. Tara puts a hand to her face to hide her laugh and Mindy and Anika glance at each other. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that! I can show you a good time, Baby." He cooed, and Ethan tensed. Apparently, it didn't go unnoticed. "Is this pipsqueak the reason why you're shooting me down? Look at him, he can't handle a real woman like you." You repressed the almost overpowering urge to cringe at the statement.

And really, what was up with this guy? You weren't turning him down because of another guy, you were turning him down because he was A) most definitely too old for you, B) gave off rapey vibes, and C) was buttfuck ugly. You looked to Ethan, which again, what is with this guy? Ethan was not a pipsqueak, he was over six foot for crying out loud! Sure, he might not look super strong, but you knew the lean muscle he held. Trust, you mapped out every curve and crevice of his body, nights running your hands under his shirt and anywhere else you could reach. Ethan held your gaze, but when the other guy tried to step forward and Ethan saw his arm stretched out, about to touch you, he wound his arm back and aimed straight for the nose.

"Holy shit!" You don't know which one of your friends said it. Ethan reacted before anyone else had time to, swinging once and glaring at the guy as he fell. Blood was dripping from his face but he wasn't reacting, out cold on the floor. You raised both your eyebrows, looking between Ethan and the nameless creep on the floor. Before any of you could say another thing, the bartender was yelling at you to leave, threatening to call the cops. At that, you all rushed through the door, your game of pool abandoned. "Why do we always get kicked out? We're actually old enough to buy beer now too!" Mindy whined, throwing her head back and ignoring her girlfriend's giggles. "What?! That happened last time too?" Ethan looked at the group with wide eyes and you poked his side.

"Yeah, last time Chad beat the creep." You said, stretching your arms above your head as all of you walked. "Speaking of," Chad looked to Ethan, "who taught you how to punch like that? You knocked him out in one hit, Dude!" Ethan scratched the back of his neck, uneasy with everyone's attention on him. "Yeah, I always imagined if you got into a fight you'd be a flailer." Mindy added, suspiciously eyeing him. "Oh, please. He always knows how to use his hands." You grin, smiling wider at his embarrassed sputtering. "Oh, gross!" Chad exclaimed, whining when Tara punched his shoulder. "If you think that's gross, wait until you find out what we did in your bed." You tease, pouting when Ethan immediately starts to placate him.

"She's joking! Don't glare at me like that, I have not had sex in your bed, Chad. The farthest we've gone is-" Ethan yelps as Chad finally untangles himself from Tara and starts chasing him, you giggle and watch as the two run down the street. Ethan is surprisingly fast, and Chad doesn't catch up until they're almost a hundred yards down the road. Behind you, you hear Mindy start talking. "You trust him, [Y/N]?" You look back at her in confusion. "Chad?" Mindy scoffs, shaking her head. "Ethan." She clarifies. Shrugging, you respond, "Of course. Wouldn't let him fuck me if I didn't." You ignored her scrunched nose and continued. "Besides, he's not the love interest of the story, is he? I'm a side character at best, sorry Tara. Plus, he's cute." 

Mindy watches you for a second, nodding. "He ends up being Ghostface, cut his dick off." You grin, "Wouldn't dream of doing anything else."

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Comfort person

Requested?: yes

Synopsis: y/n is your average girl, just living her best life- one night she goes to a club just expecting to have fun and chill but that all gets twisted when a group of guys hound her and try to take her home with them, but one man who’s kept his eyes on her for the entire night won’t let that happen.

Trigger warnings: talk about drugs/ alcohol, douche-y guys, attempt of spiking a drink. If any of this makes you uncomfortable please read at your own discretion.

Harry x fem! Reader + famous! Harry

Trope: strangers to lovers

“Oh yeah you’re definitely dressed like that for a reason… wanna hook up,” the group of men around you were practically saying the same thing over and over again, your heart was beating out of your chest. You were full of anxiety. These men had been hounding you for a good 10 minutes and no one had said a thing, two blondes were sat either side of you and three guys were inches away from touching your back, keeping you blocked in practically. You felt sick to your stomach. “You’re actually so pretty…” one of them said with a little grin, “I’m Daniel and you are?” He held his hand out for you distracting you completely from your surroundings and you gulp harshly of course his name is Daniel you then slowly reach your hand out shaking his hand “nice to meet you…” you murmur unsure, “I’m y/n. Just here to chill. I don’t want to hook up” you state simply, a look of disappointment forming on Daniel’s face “shame” he spoke, and unbeknownst to you the other blonde on your other side had poured a white powder into your drink, his mates egging him on further but you didn’t really focus on that too focused on how uncomfortable they were making you feel.

However you also didn’t notice the curly haired man, sat down on a table just behind you, his green eyes full of concern as he had watched the whole entire thing. He was going to help a long time ago but he wasn’t entirely sure whether you were actually in trouble or whether they were your friends, but upon seeing the white substance float into your drink, and he knew in an instant that friends most definitely wouldn’t drug each other… Harry was quick to stand up as he moved to where you were sat his tattoos glimmering in the light as he got closer and closer to the bar before he tapped one of the brown haired guys on the shoulder making him move before Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist as he gently pulled you up from your sitting position “sorry to disappoint, I’ve got to whisk this one away… she’s not feeling too well. An early night is in order for her.” He chuckled out as you looked up at your saviour his jawline sharp, eyes a beautiful green colour and face the exact beauty of an Angel. You recognised him well- he was Harry styles but right now wasn’t the time to fangirl about that…

“Aren’t you from that boyband? One direction.” One of them laughed out, “oh yeah you’re so right! The band that’s so gay. Try to convince everyone they’re straight but really they’re all fucking,” the man chastised clearly trying to get on Harry’s nerves “ha ha very funny. You all look like you give each other blowjobs in the bathroom… don’t you? Got no woman to help you out so you do what bros do, yeah? Is that why you drugged her drink? Yeah I saw that.” He said immediately shutting the rowdy group up as you looked up to him shocked… they had drugged your drink? Shit your heart sank into your stomach. That knowledge made you feel sick and vulnerable. Harry then picked up the glass that had been drugged before he threw the red liquid into Daniel’s face watching as he clutched his eyes fear seemingly being knocked into all of them at the same time, once a man stands up for a woman they all become weak. Huh. Funny. “Disgusting, all of you. Buck up your fucking ideas otherwise I will press charges… if I really wanted to I could get the cops to arrest your dumb asses right now but I like to think you’ll all change.” He said knowing they wouldn’t change, Harry didn’t like using his fame to his advantage but knowing these men were going to hurt you an innocent vulnerable woman made him feel sick. “C’mon” he soon murmured looking down at you as he lead you out of the club, hand remaining on the small of your back as he guided you outside to safety. Harry would’ve done so much more if it weren’t for the fact that he wanted to comfort you, his breathing slightly unsteady with anger. What he had done wasn’t enough but was enough at the same time, his actions were completely justified. He found it incredibly disturbing and humiliating how no one else stepped in to help you… knowing this most likely happened to other people and people just sat and watched it. Allowing it to happen.

Soon you both stopped walking Harry turning to look at you “have you got a way home?” He asked studying you carefully, almost analysing you “I can call a taxi… don’t worry.” You assured immediately pulling your phone out of your pocket but he shook his head “no… I want to make sure you get home safely.” He said and you blinked confused… why did the Harry styles want to make sure you got home safely? So it was true? He was the kindest man to exist… “you don’t have to.” You said softly but he shook his head “I want to. I’m Harry by the way.” He held his hand out for you to shake, the rings that adorned his fingers were the first thing you noticed and you gently took his hand into your own giving his hand a light shake “pleasure to meet you Harry… my names y/n.” You said softly keeping eye contact with him as he didn’t let go of your hand giving a tight but gentle squeeze as he smiled “likewise, y/n.” He said calmly and kindly his eyes scanning over your features for a few moments “are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they? Here… let me take a look at you.” He murmured letting go of your hand just so he could rest his hands upon your shoulders, his green gentle eyes full of worry as he seemingly looked you over for any wounds or such: the way he said it made your stomach flutter with butterflies. A man you barely knew- personally- offered more care and kindness than any man you had known for years. “I’m okay I promise.” Your words were soft and gentle as he silently looked at you making sure you were okay and unharmed and once he had realised that you were unhurt and just fine a small tight lipped smile tugged at his lips as he nodded “just a bit shaken up. If they tried to touch me I would’ve you know… put up a fight.” You said honestly and Harry nodded starting to walk with you to his car and he opened the door for you, like the gentleman he was and once you got in you buckled your seatbelt before letting out a soft sigh… that was most definitely the last time you ever went to a club alone.

You soon told Harry you address and he began driving his large hands resting on the steering wheel, you felt nervous not because of who he was of course not but rather what had just happened and he seemingly noticed that his free hand immediately dropping just next to the gear stick his palm faces upwards his fingers spread as if welcoming you to hold his hand and you quickly did just that taking a hold of his hand in yours intertwining your fingers with his. You held his hand in your lap your free hand gently tracing over his tattoos. No words needed to be spoken to understand what you were feeling and how the simplicity of him allowing you to hold his hand comforted you enough to help sooth your nerves. As he slowed down at a red traffic light his head turned to look to you his eyes scanning over your worried expression his hand gently squeezing yours “you’re okay.” He said softly and you turned to look at him nodding your head as you smiled gently “I know… thank you… I just can’t help to think what would’ve happened if you didn’t step in.” You murmured softly and he stroked his thumb against your skin, not even realising the traffic light had turned to green “I’m sure your gut instinct would’ve gotten you out quick enough… I like to think someone else would’ve stepped in but… as you said… I’m sure you would’ve put up a good fight and scared them all off.” He said with a soft chuckle, the traffic light flicking back to red but he didn’t seem to notice or rather care all he cared about was you in this very moment. “Yeah… what I’ve learnt is if you act just as crazy as them they become terrified… one guy barked at me so I barked at him and ran after him, he ran so fast he ran into a pole.” You said the funny story making Harry throw his head back as he laughed a curl of his hair gently resting against his forehead another curl doing the exact same thing creating a little heart shape on his forehead “you barked at him? That’s top notch… hilarious. Good for you” he said grinning at you as he gave your hand a squeeze before he finally began to drive again but he didn’t dare let go of your hand keeping your hand in his… he quite liked holding your hand. It was nice.

~

As he pulled up outside of your apartment you let out a soft sigh “you live alone?” He asked softly and you nodded your head, you weren’t looking forward to stepping into the empty apartment by yourself… you were slightly paranoid. Of course it would pass but still it was unnerving and Harry seemed to sense that “here I’ll walk you in” he said and you shot a grateful look his way as you got out of the car waiting for him and once he was by your side he rested his hand on the small of your back as he began walking with you towards your front door, his fingertips lightly rubbing against your back in a comforting manner and once the door was open you held your breath “I’ll go first” he comforted without even questioning or asking you why you were so worried or even beginning to humiliate you like most men would… most men wouldn’t understand it and would tell you to just move on with your life but you couldn’t… even if they weren’t there you were still scared. You followed after him flicking on the lights and once in the living room you sat down your heart racing, Harry without even saying anything doing a quick sweep around the house- checking in wardrobes, under your bed, everywhere… just to sooth your anxieties. He was truly boyfriend material.

You were quick to put on some tv, some happy tv and once Harry returned he stood just in front of you, his eyes searching yours silently “is it okay if I stay? Even if it’s just till you fall asleep?” He asked not wanting to leave you alone not for tonight at least, you were clearly scared and traumatised. “Yes of course” you quickly obliged nodding your head and a small smile formed on his face before he sat just beside you the both of you watching the tv silently and soon enough his arm wrapped around your shoulder pulling you into him your head lightly resting on his shoulder and he just held you wanting to make sure you knew you were safe. No words were said once again, it was simply silence knowing you were safe with him and soon your fingers began creeping towards his, your index finger hooking with his thumb, his fingers doing the same as he held your hand lightly your head slowly lifting to look him in the eyes the realisation in both of your eyes proving both of your thoughts and he without even saying anything cupped your cheek with his free hand pulling you in close to him as he kissed you gently but deeply, his other hand keeping a hold of yours before you pulled yourself onto his lap wanting to be close to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the both of you kissing… making out for a good long while the kiss passionate but loving. Not too fast but not too slow either. Just right. The way he placed his hands… his hand placement… gods it drove the butterflies in your tummy wild and soon Harry pulled away, just enough so his forehead could rest against yours “I’m sorry if I got into that too fast but… gods… couldn’t help myself.” He murmured but you shook your head smiling “I loved it” you whispered before pulling him close again as you kissed him once more deeply but gently, he made you feel safe and secure… you didn’t want to leave his side… maybe this journey of strangers to lovers wouldn’t end up so bad… maybe just maybe you had found your comfort person.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Plain Sight

Summary: The reader notices a man following her one night at a bar. Things escalate when she finds a green eyed stranger in her home but he might not be what he seems at first glance...

Pairing: Stalker!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, stalking, kidnapping, angst, fluff

A/N: Go with me on this one, I promise ;)

______

“Y/N,” said Emily from behind the bar. You were halfway to sliding off your barstool when she caught your wrist. “Dylan’s gonna walk you to car.”

Your head turned and you glanced out the dark window of the bar out to the street. 

“Is that guy out there again?” you said quietly.

“Matt said he saw him passing by a few times from his post out front,” she said.

“Thanks, Em,” you said. “I might take a bit of a break from the bar for a bit.”

“You got my number?” she asked and you nodded. “Be safe girl, okay? Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” you said. You gave her a hug and sighed as Dylan walked out from the back with a smile.

“Watch her ass,” said Emily.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you home safe.”

You jumped as you were climbing the stairs of your house twenty minutes later. The back door had unlatched and you could hear it creaking in the wind. You swallowed as you spun around slowly, breath catching in your throat when you saw the man with the short brown hair and green eyes standing on the landing.

You chucked your purse at him and tried running but he grabbed your ankle and dragged you back down to the foyer and threw a hand over your mouth. 

“Relax,” he said, pinning your wrists together in one hand. He was straddling you and you tried swinging your legs up to try and pull him off but he was sat back just far enough to make that useless. You panted under his hand, trying to break free but he seemed patient enough to let you struggle. 

After a moment you stopped and took deep breaths through your nose, the man satisfied with your response.

“Y/N, I’m not gonna hurt you but you need to come with me whether you want to or not. I don’t expect you to believe me and I don’t expect you to not fight back. I don’t expect you to not try and runaway either. But I’m doing this for your own good. Now if I move my hand away and you promise to be quiet, I won’t put tape over your mouth, understand?”

You nodded and he waited a moment before he moved his hand away.

“You gonna pretend you’re some kind of undercover cop or something,” you got out as he reached behind himself and pulled out zip ties. Thick ones that wouldn’t break like the ones in your self-defense class.

“No. I’m not a cop,” he said as he slipped them over your wrists and tugged them taut. “I used to work in sales. I recently took a sabbatical.”

“You’re gonna kill me, you’re gonna-” you said before his hand was over your mouth again. He sighed and reached over to a bag by the door, taking out a roll of tape. You shook your head and he frowned.

“You said you’d be quiet and you’re not being very quiet, Y/N. It won’t stay on long. I gotta get you someplace safe first is all,” he said.

Thirty minutes later you were being carried over a shoulder, kicking your bound feet against the back of his leg, smacking your fists against his chest. He’d pulled into a garage so you had no idea where you were other than the inside of a very nice house. He’d taken the highway at some point so you figured he’d driven to the outskirts of the city. He worked in sales. Maybe he was a big financial guy or something like that.

He nearly dropped you as you went down a flight of stairs to a basement. He opened a door and you looked around, the space finished with a couch and TV in there. There looked to be a bedroom and bathroom at least from your upside down view. He plopped you down in a metal chair and you whimpered when you realized it was bolted down.

“Relax,” he said. He tied your upper body back against it and cut your legs free before securing them each to a leg. When he was satisfied he stood and pulled the tape off.

“I’m gonna kill you the second I get out of this. I know people. Everybody is gonna find me and-” you said before the man put his hand over your mouth again.

“Your best odds were back at the house. We both know that. No one has a fucking clue who I am and you will go missing and the trail will go cold and you will learn that I am on your side. Understand?”

“Put your dick anywhere near me and I’ll bite it off,” you said when he removed his hand.

“I imagine you would. You’re angry right now which is completely understandable. The only time you’ll be in this chair is when you’re a threat to me or yourself. Eventually you’ll understand that I am doing this to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me to protect me. Ah yes, you learn that at serial killer…” you trailed off when he narrowed his eyes.

“I am potentially destroying my own life just so you can live. I would suggest dropping the attitude.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me,” you said quietly. He crossed his arms and looked you up and down. “Please let me go. I’ll never say a word to anyone. I promise.”

“I’m sorry but that can’t happen. I’m the bad guy right now so an even worse bad guy doesn’t find you.”

“Please. I-”

“I said you won’t believe me but someday you will and not because of stockholm syndrome or some shit. You’ll do it because you know I’m right. You’ll do it because you know you can trust me.”

“Trust what?” you asked, hoping maybe a softer approach would get you farther.

“The man that’s been stalking you? He’s an actual serial killer. He wants to take you and hurt you and kill you. He is so powerful though you don’t even know. Police aren’t your friends this time, Y/N. The only way to keep you safe from him is to kidnap you myself so even you don’t know where you are. It sounds so much like bullshit. I get it. But it’s the truth. It’s-”

“You have green eyes,” you said as something clicked for you. “Green eyes. Not blue eyes. Green.”

“What does-”

“You work for Sachman & Associates. I fucking met you six months ago at the charity gala,” you said. He dropped his head and you nodded your head. “Who was the man with blue eyes. The big shot. Who was he?”

“Why?” breathed out Dean.

“Because he gave me creepy vibes that night and you noticed. You fucking noticed. Powerful enough to own the police? Blue eyes from the end of a bar I noticed months back? Who the fuck is he and who the fuck are you.”

“I found out a secret about my boss and he wants you. There have been others before you and he was going to make a move very, very soon. So I did a bad thing to stop an innocent woman from getting hurt. There’s no way if I just said this to you randomly you’d believe me. No way. The only way you were safe from him was if you didn’t know where you were, it you’re out of sight. You don’t have to believe me. I will happily go to prison for this after he’s gone but until then you need to stay here whether you want to or not.”

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Dean Winchester.”

“Dean, untie me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust you not to run off.”

“I’m supposed to trust your crazy story but you can’t trust me to stay here?”

“I didn’t say it was fair,” he said. 

“Trust goes both ways,” you said. He stared at you for a good solid minute before he cut your feet free. He undid the rope around your chest and your hands. You stretched out and sighed before you kicked him in the back and ran for the stairs. You got all the way up them and saw a front door before you were tackled in a hallway. “Ow.”

“I knew you were gonna try that,” he said with a pant as he sat back with your arms pinned behind you. You took a deep breath and dropped your head. “Y/N, I’m not fucking around. I-”

“W-Who the fuck is that?” you asked as you stared into a home office. “That picture.”

“My boss. The one that wants to kill you. I-”

“Okay,” you said. You stopped struggling against him and after a moment he released your hands. He stood up and put a hand on your bicep, walking you into the office with him. You stared at the picture on the wall, a whole lot of articles and things taped up around it. “I believe you.”

“Okay that’s a little fast. I mean I’m not trying to make a case against myself but you really should take things with a grain of salt,” said Dean.

“Dean, I know that man. When I was...when I was in college me and my friend got pretty wasted one night and walked back from a party. An older guy offered to give us a ride, said it was safer that way. I got bad vibes from him but she went. I didn’t see her again after that. They never found her. He looked so different but his eyes...see?” you said, pointing at an article. “That’s her. That’s-”

“Please believe me,” he said as he let go of your arm. You looked him in the eye before you punched him in the dick. He groaned and dropped to his knees. “Y/N.”

“You deserved that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said. He sat back on his heels and you crossed your arms.

“I can...forget about the whole kidnapping me thing,” you said. “If you make sure this guy doesn’t find me.”

“We’re isolated out here. You’re safe,” said Dean as he got to his feet. “And you don’t have to do that. I did a fucked up thing. If you want to press charges-”

“Keep me alive and I’ll let it go. Deal?” you said.

“Deal.”

“What was your next step after you grabbed me?” you asked as you looked at the wall.

“I was planning to...you know…” said Dean. You raised an eyebrow and Dean shrugged. “Come on. You want to what, get him arrested? I already told you, he’s buddy buddy with the heads of the police. He’ll get off and probably pin it on me or even you.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad idea. I just think there’s a way to do this so he doesn’t bother anyone and you don’t have to be a murderer.”

“I’ve been thinking of alternates for months and got nothing. I’d love to hear your plan if you have one.”

“You say he’s friends with cops? I bet he’s not friends with federal agents,” you said. 

“How the hell would-”

“Dean. Think for a minute buddy. Don’t you think it’s a little odd that I didn’t panic that much?” you asked. He stared at you and shook his head.

“Oh fuck,” he said, wiping his hand over his face. “Fuck me, what’d I do.”

“Kidnapped a US Marshall for starters,” you said with a smile. He groaned and shut his eyes. “Dean, we know exactly who Mr. Paul Jones is. The thing we do need is evidence though.”

“So I kidnapped a Marshall and fucked up your investigation of a serial killer,” said Dean. He sat down in a chair and put his head in hands. “Fuck.”

“I thought a good samaritan offered to assist the lead agent on the case considering he has insider information we could really use. That’s what my report will say.”

He tilted his head up and you smiled.

“I see no reason for you to get in trouble for trying to save a woman’s life. I know bad guys, Dean. You’re not playing for their team, understand?”

“How can I help?” he asked as he got to his feet.

“When you took me, how discrete were you? Did neighbors see? Did you check that Paul wasn’t there?”

“He was at a fundraiser tonight. I saw his work schedule. It’s-” said Dean as the lights went out.

“He saw you and followed you,” you said. “Do you have a gun?”

“I don’t think that’ll help you out now Marshall,” said Paul as he rounded the corner and walked in the room. You frowned and he smiled. “It took a long time to track you down and Dean? You’re not getting that promotion after this.”

“Fuck you.”

“Alright,” he said. He pulled a gun out and aimed in Dean’s direction. The window shattered behind you and Paul dropped lack a sack of bricks, the gun slidng across the room. You dropped down, Dean picking it up with a sigh. He held out a hand and made a motion with his fingers. You got to your feet, Dean pouting as he stared down at Paul.

“I really wanted to see him on trial too,” said Dean. You watched him handle the gun with ease and the power turned back on, some people in black coats walking inside. 

“You’re a cop,” you said.

“Undercover one. I didn’t realize we were working your case otherwise we would have ran this up the chain,” he said.

“I’ll let it slide if we get a peak at your evidence. Must have had something good,” you said.

“Yeah, we do. We’ll talk outside.”

“Hey,” said Dean the next morning at the police station. He brought in some coffee and you smiled. “Long night.”

“Yes it has been,” you said. You sipped on the too hot liquid and sat back against the table. “You call Shelby’s parents?”

“Yeah. We got ID’s on the girls,” he said. “He was coming for you last night. There was something off about you we couldn’t figure out. Y/N Smith didn’t exist before the past couple years. We had a working theory you were an apprentice of his or something in exchange for your life. I was never much a fan of that one. I just thought you were on the run from him.”

“Kinda true,” you said. “Sorry for punching you in the nuts.”

“Eh, it’s fine,” he chuckled. “I had suspicions when you didn’t freak out and were trying a few tactical moves to get away from me. Glad they turned out to be right.”

“If there’s ever a next time, you can be the bait, hm?”

“Deal, sweetheart,” he chuckled. You shook hands on it, Dean sitting back against the table with you. “Your boss just had a long chat with me on the phone. He thought I should apply to the Marshall service. He said I’d have no problem getting in.”

“We got a guy retiring in a few months, he’d love a young gun to back fill him,” you said.

“He said it was your call,” said Dean. 

“Gonna kidnap me again?”

“Only if I have to,” he smiled.

“Put me as a reference on your application,” you said. “I’ll see you in a few months when you get out of training, Dean.”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

“Oh and Dean?” you said as you started to leave. “You owe me dinner.”

“Won’t I be your junior partner?”

“Oh yeah. Normally I’d pay and all but I’m normally only a fan of a man pinning me down when I ask him to,” you said. He raised an eyebrow and you winked. “I’ll be senior partner. Doesn’t mean I’m your boss. Just something to keep in mind.”

“Maybe I can come visit some weekend, you know, take you out to that dinner early,” he smirked.

“Anytime, Dean. I’ll see you soon, Winchester.”

“Yes you will, sweetheart.”

_______

[elekinetic]

does st have copaganda? yes im sorry i wanted to ask this question because it seems a lot of people don't think so (harmful in so many ways)

alright. let’s have this conversation.

Copaganda is media that promotes celebratory portrayals of the American* police force. These portrayals are often antithetical to the realities marginalized groups (POC, queer people, working class, the intersections of these groups, etc). Copaganda rewards fictional officers who ignore procedures (that often protect civil liberties) in favor of chasing a “hunch” or “doing what’s right,” even without evidence. When you have a police system with deeply ingrained racism, those “hunches” will be painted by said racism. Basically a show tells you to trust the instincts of police, regardless of proof. By portraying cops as heroes and inherently good, copaganda discourages rightful critique of the police force. They’re the cops. They’re the good guys. What could they possibly be doing wrong?

Jim Hopper, as sheriff, represents the police in this show.** He regularly breaks protocol and the law in order to save the day, and the plot rewards this behavior. Between his relationships with Sarah, Joyce, and El, Hopper is deeply empathetic. we love Hopper and we want to see him win. Most importantly, we trust Hopper. So, if Hopper, who consistently breaks protocol for the greater good = police (which he does, bc being sheriff is a massive part of his character which we never forget), and Hopper = good and trustworthy, then cops who break protocol = good and trustworthy.

Spelled out like that, it seems so obvious. How do you fall for something like that? But they’re all subconscious connections. Often the writers don’t even realize they’re doing it. we’re so used to the “hero cop” archetype that we don’t even stop to think about its repercussions. think about shows like Brooklyn 99 or Psych. It’s pretty clear the showrunners didn’t sit down and say “Okay, how can we further manipulate the American public into trusting a system that primarily exists to oppress marginalized peoples and reinforce harmful social structures?” But that’s the effect. You bombard the American public with media that tells you to empathize with the police and to take their side…. the American public will take their side. So yes. Stranger Things absolutely has copaganda, and it doesn’t matter that it’s unintentional. It is still harmful.

This isn’t to say you have to stop watching Stranger Things.*** Just… be mindful of this. Be aware that this is fictional. The guy in the cop car parked on the corner is not Jim Hopper, or Jake Peralta, or Juliet O’Hara. Cops are not your friends. They do not want to help you. (If one bad apple is protected by ten good apples, you have ten bad apples. all cops are bastards****.)

Garfield said it best: you are not immune to propaganda. Stay critical of the media you consume. Don’t let yourself get played.

*copaganda is not exclusive to the US, but it’s especially widespread here and that’s what is relevant to this conversation given ST takes place in indiana.

**in seasons 1-3. callahan’s joviality and powell’s struggle to fill hopper’s shoes in s4 make them empathetic. again, getting us on their side and trusting them.

***full disclosure: it is in no universe my call on whether you should or shouldn’t keep watching a show bc it’s copaganda. i’m very white and it is not my place to decide whether a show can be “forgiven” or not. again. stay critical.

****just a reminder that ACAB does not mean all cops suck, it means all cops are part of a bastardized system that, again, exists to serve and reinforce oppressive structures.