#well i feel ten times more normal about Lucas

[undercoverpena]

10. cranberry cocktail

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter ten of do me yourself

summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.

wordcount: 3k chapter warnings: SMUT. 18+. jo's bad use and knowledge of DIY. frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. an: this one is called jo made herself horny. see author note at the end.

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It’s difficult not to smile as you approach.

His voice, mid-singing—almost competing with the radio that lingers under his voice—had been travelling out as you walked up to the building. Louder when you pulled open the door, sliding the sunglasses from your face.

A few blinks and your eyes capture his, singing dying out, leaving the original artist blaring around in the background.

Still, you're unable to stifle the smile. Not as you walk closer or as he puts down the tool in hand; least of all when you realise he's looking only half as abashed as you would be if he caught you mid-rendition, watching him dial down the volume on the radio as the door closes behind you.

Frankie had shown you this place once before. Your voice, light, teasing, hand in his: “You’re showing me where the magic happens?”

“I’ve shown you where that happens.”

“Not that magic—or, well, I hope you’re not about to tell me there are even more videos on a different site I need to watch. I’ve been forced to rewatch things lately.”

He’d explained, with a soft smile and a twinkle in his eye, how he’d turned the garage into a workshop. The hours, the pieces he’d started with and the things he’s managed to build, find or bargain for along the way. Even lingered his thumb over the height chart for Luca, the one he told you he began when he first bought the run-down house he made a home.

It was impressive then, but you hadn’t appreciated it as much as you do stepping in today.

You'd been too busy then, watching, studying him. Spotting the way he trailed his thumb across his bottom lip, eyes widening as they tried to smile before his lips as he pointed out highlights he knew you’d have seen from certain videos you’d mentioned.

Now, it's all lit by soft, mid-morning sunlight, looking homely, loved, worn in and appreciated—everything you’d expect from him.

Even if things are out, such as plasterboard and wood leaning against odd edges, everything else has a place. Just like the scent that wanders around and flows as if there’s a constant candle burning, one which includes notes of freshly applied paint, the essence of sawdust and leather. A blended aroma that subtlety clings to his clothes—and then lingers inside your own. A thing which brings comfort, until it seeps in sadness upon the realisation that it's faded from a sweater, bedsheets or your throw after a few days of not seeing him in person.

"Hi, handsome."

He grins, a hello escaping out as his knuckle tips your chin up, your smile back presses to his mouth. Tasting his lips, how they’re tinged with coffee. Frankie planting it more intently as your hands find their way around his waist, heightening it, fingers grasping your cheek.

You swear you could kiss him forever. A thought you know you have continuously, almost every time his mouth finds yours. But you mean it.

Completely. Utterly.

Your palms sliding around, fingers brushing over dry, hard paint specks buried into the soft, beloved cotton of his tee.

“So,” you say when you pull away, teeth biting your lip—finding yourself staring at him, as though his face alone answers everything.

In some ways, you're adamant it does. In others, you know it will.

A feeling that thrums more and more intensely as weeks rack up into months, as your heart flutters in your chest when his eyes hold yours for a second longer than normal.

“What has prompted this little requested visit?”

Grinning, he traces his thumb along your jaw. “Thought you could drill some holes—for your cupboards?”

Smirking, dragging your tongue in a sweeping motion across your lip, you tap your fingers on his waist. “Drill, ay? I didn’t… exactly come dressed to be in your workshop.”

“Wait,” he says, eyes widening, mouth pulled into a line as he brushes his fingers down the fabric of your summer dress that rests along your collarbone. “This isn’t an everyday DIY outfit?”

Grinning, you nudge into him, head shaking—hand grasping a handful of his tee. “No.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, voice dropping, charm encasing each letter as his hands find a home on your hips, “I’ll make sure you don’t get messy.”

A soft laugh escapes you, feeling the way his thumb continues its gentle circling on your cheekbone.

“You on cleanup duty, then?” you reply, the words muffled against his lips. He hums in response, a sound of agreement that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

Without pulling away, he gently guides you towards the bench—hands on your side as his chin rests on your shoulder.

One glance at him, and he offers you a comforting smile. Before it comes over him, that voice—the one from the videos. All lightly, but sternly instructing you. Talking you through the steps, before he tells you to pick up the black and orange drill from in front of you.

A lick of warmth slides up your spine, a soft whimper escaping your lips as you press closer to him, your body beginning to buzz from the way he’s pressed against you—his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your waist.

“We’re going to begin with drilling the holes for the handles.”

Rolling your lips, you rest your head against his. “Okay.”

“What you’re gonna do is lightly ease the drill in.”

“Is that so?”

Clearing his throat, you swear you hear your name, it followed quickly by a “Stop.”

“Stop what, Frankie?”

It’s a grunt. A thing buried in his throat before he takes a measured sigh. His hand rises, gripping the top of the power tool before lining the drill bit with the marked wood.

“Being a tease—now, lightly pull the trigger.”

Blanking your face, staring at him with confusion. “So, push it in and out?”

You watch it hit him—slowly. It washes over him in a few blinks, your hips wiggling against his before he groans again. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m very innocent, Morales.”

“Mierda. You’re the opposite of innocent. And no, it’s straight down. Not in and out—we’re not… we’re not fucking it.”

Giggling, you bite the inside of your cheek, adjusting your stance as you swear his groin pushes into your ass on purpose. Finding a way to mumble an okay, you shift your shoulders in preparation. Asking, finger hovering over the trigger of the drill, if you squeeze it lightly as you feel him nod.

Swallowing, you give it a test. A little click. Hearing it, before you see thin crinkles of wood coming away from the pressure.

“Like that?”

Somehow, all beyond you, you manage to keep your voice steady. It all unwilling to tremble—even though his breath is dancing over your neck. Even though his hold on your hip is tightening.

Then there’s the heat pulsating through your dress—the warmth settling into your bones, skin and muscle from his touch. Your body remembering, recalling—able to know just from his presence what he can do, what he has done, how he can unravel you and make you become a mess all from his fingers, mouth and—

“Bit more pressure this time, baby.”

“You can’t say that.”

Snorting, the air dances over your skin as you swear you feel him smirk. “Oh, Rainy. I can.”

You swear his voice drops an octave.

Sweeping the words over you, making your body tense, muscles twisting in on themselves as you try to focus on the drill in your hand. Stare down at the piece of wood he’s set up for you until it’s a blur. Nodding. Finger over the button, knowing you just need to squeeze—

Perfect, he whispers.

And fuck it makes your thighs press together. Makes something rumble inside of you at the same time as the drill fires to life.

The noise is all loud, alarming—deafening. A hole deepening in the wood.

“That's it, just like that. Perfecto, hermosa.”

Even with how loud it is, you can only hear him.

How he layers so much emphasis on the P, the letter is still skating over your skin by the time the rest that follows it has left his tongue.

You can only swallow. Remaining aware, and yet focused in, on how his hand slides down, fingers teasing the end of your dress—a quickly thrown-on thing, an easy option that meant you could arrive here sooner.

“You’re perfect,” he says, kissing it against your neck as his hand slides under your dress, palm flat to your thigh, dragging it up, and up.

Some part of you, all distant, feels him take the drill, hears a click, before it’s out of sight, out of fucking mind.

Then it’s just thick fingers you focus on, how they slide, rub, torture over your underwear—feeling like minutes, hours, days before he manoeuvres. Before he’s forcing elastic to cut into your skin, before you feel him trace along the places you need him desperately.

“Frankie…”

He drags his nose against the side of your face, feeling the exhale flutter against your jaw before he makes you gasp before it grows into a shameless whine.

“This not what you wanted?”

Swallowing, your eyelids quiver. Some part of you, a present part of you that isn’t lost in the way he’s stroking up and down your slick folds, occasionally catching your clit, that he isn’t going to let you come like this.

Even if he's told you he likes the way you sound, has confessed that he likes watching you unravel; his favourite pastime, his favourite movie and soundtrack.

“Need to hear you, Rainy?”

“Want you,” you pant, breathless.

He fans hot breath on your skin. “Want me to fuck you here, baby? On my bench. Hmm?”

You’re fluttering, desperately to squeeze him—fingers or cock, you’re not in a frame of mind to be fussy.

Mind changing, singing, practically bellowing: please, please, fucking, please. Body thrumming, vibrating, legs desperate to shake—if not for the fact they’re keeping you upright. Your fingers find a place on his bench, digging, barely making a mark against the rest on his workbench. But it’s stable, rigid.

“Tell me, baby,” he says, softer, dripping it into your ear like honey—all encased in air that seeps inside of you and makes you forced to chase his lips.

It’s against them you say please. Kissing a y, an e and a s against his mouth, licking past his teeth, hips rocking into his fingers as he circles and circles and circles—

Then, nothing.

Retraction, emptiness. A desperate whine emerges, rising from the back of your throat until it fuses with the air.

An explanation almost demanded, but his belt buckle undoing silences you. His clothed cock presses against you, feeling how hard he is, the size of him making you clench your thighs as cool air kisses the back of your legs when he grabs a fist full of your dress.

“Gonna get rid of these.”

It’s deft, his finger—hooking in the band of your panties as he drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, letting it fall the rest of the way as the fabric finds a home around your ankles. For a moment they just remain there, not entirely confident you can step out of them until he holds you steady, talks you through it:

One foot, then the other. That's it, baby.

Because your body is on auto-pilot, doing things for you, for him. Like parting your thighs as his hand rests on your back as he softly urges you down. Your forearms find the bench, hingeing at the waist, lying your chest flat on his bench, sawdust filling your nose and stitching itself into the upper part of your dress as you turn your head, flakes sticking to your cheek.

And for a moment, an expanse of time, you forget how to breathe, how to be, where you are as you stare at him.

This man, this person who one day you didn’t know and the next you did—is now yours, all yours. Mine, he’d said in bedsheets after the conversation in the kitchen. Like that you’re mine, Rainy. A man you trust, like, lov—

Frankie, who is all handsome, broad and fucking kind, is now looking at you as if you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted to devour in his life. Do it, you silently plead, beg, metaphorically getting on your knees as he washes you in almond-brown eyes.

He’s a sight you couldn’t have ever made up, least of all this one. Fingers, thick—one wrapped in a bandaid—pulling down on the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes, casting half of him in a shadow that makes you almost moan. There’s just the tip of his nose, just his mouth on show, lips spread and curled into a smirk as he lines his cock at your entrance.

You sure? He asks, fingers brushing over your hip, keeping the fabric back, as you smile, nod, and whisper for him to make you feel good before he eases the head of his cock in. It's then your mouth parts around a silent cry of his name, pussy welcoming each inch of him, opening, as you let him slide all he wants to give.

“Know you can take me,” he hushes, “I’m good at measurements, calculations—“

“Fuck.”

“Fuck, you like that.”

Whining his name, he smirks. Because both the feel of him and the act is something you couldn’t have ever concocted. Fuck, a year ago you wouldn’t believe the person you are either. Not this confident being almost laid down on his workbench, feeling this good, this attractive, all bold—asking for this, for what you want. No flicker of shyness or nervousness.

Then there’s him. A sight your mind is struggling to process. Frankie with his teeth glistening with spit as he stares down at you, as he sweeps that burning gaze over you and grunts at the feel of you. One hand, large, slightly calloused, finding meaning on your waist, the other holding your dress up your spine, pressing down, light, but firm—don’t move, baby, stay still.

As if you ever would.

The stretch is welcomed, a dull ache answered, all buried to the hilt. Remaining there, still.

“Move, please—fuck, Frankie, I beg of you.”

He chuckles. A low laugh.

But he does, pulling out before driving back in, making your vision swim, blur. It all overwhelming. Both the sensation and everything else—scents, sounds and touch. His hips slowly moving, his belt buckle clanging and it’s easier to find yourself draped over the bench, cheeks on the wood, inhaling it—the scent that lives in his clothes, in his fingers and aura.

Frankie, just Frankie. Your Frankie—

“So g—fuck—good for me.”

Your fingers dig, grasp—his cock kissing that spot inside of you that forces your toes to curl in your shoes, your mouth managing half of his name before it fades to a moan. All breathy, doused in whimpers and yes’s falling in a verse that leads to a chorus.

“Feel so—oh, good, Frankie.”

“Yeah?”

“Perfect. Feel perfect.”

He moans—low, tinged in a grunt, a hiss, your name etched somewhere in the sound—as he pulls almost all the way out, drawn out, an emptiness beginning to register before he thrusts in. Somehow deeper, somehow filling you more perfectly as you squeeze your grip on the bench.

And you’re close, all light and boneless—but heavy and alive, so alive you feel like fire courses in your veins and you could become more flame than a person.

“Come for me, baby. Right on my bench—fuck, you feel good, so tight—need y’to come. Right here.”

And it crashes against you, all of it. Suddenly unable to smell a thing, hear a thing—you just feel. Feel the sensation of just him and the tip of him hitting that spot which makes you arch as pleasure, all blinding and molten lava rushes through your blood, and flows into your muscles.

All numb and yet tingly.

It takes a moment, but your senses come back one by one, panting, breathless—muscles tired and depleted—as you feel his hips stuttering, the strained noises from behind forcing your eyes open.

He’s a picture, a work of art—a statue that should be carved by someone with talent. Sun streaks in and basks him in a golden hue, illuminating that heart patch on his jaw—the way his tongue is pinned between pearly white teeth, and the vein in his neck throbs angrily as he reaches his own climax.

You clench, aware of it, ogling and admiring pushing him over the edge as he curses, tensing, rigid, pace lost as he spills inside of you, happily taking it all, wishing to wring him dry and ensure he’s empty. Greedy, desperate and fucking needy.

Before his body finds refuge on top of yours, heart hammering against your spine—hat falling, tumbling off onto the floor as the two of you catch your breaths. His hand finds your cheek, stroking his thumb against it.

“Never… I’ve never done that before.”

Smiling, you gaze at him as best as you can. “I like how you drill,” you say, playfully, feeling his laugh rumble through him before he kisses your hairline.

It’s light—perfect.

Feeling the laugh bounce from bone to bone inside of you before he turns and eases you up, chest to chest, murmuring against your lips about a shower, about cleaning you up. And you keep smiling, even more so when he checks your chin and cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing over and over.

“You promised me I wouldn’t get messy.”

Thumb pausing on your cheek, he smirks. “I can clean you up, baby?”

Smirking, you shake your head, heat flooding your cheeks. “How are you planning on doing that?”

He tilts his head, before slowly grasping the bench, descending to his knees. Your mouth unable to stop itself from falling open, all wide, surprised as he presses a kiss to your knee.

“Might want to hold onto something, baby,” he says, writing it against your inner thigh. “Might take me a minute to make sure you’re all cleaned up.”

NEXT CHAPTER ->

an: while we still have some more chapters of these two, I've been experimenting with a few things and while it won't have any bearing on the main series, there will be some smutty-one-shots that can be read as and when, and if so people wish. they won't require reading of the series, but rather allow anyone to enjoy two people who are becoming comfortable with one another, exploring a few different things. i'm not sure on when the first will be out, but it won't replace normal uploads for them. but rather just be small little things i'd love to include but would feel shoe-horned into my plan. also if there's anything you'd love a bit more of, whether it's a bit more on rainy/frankie or their relationship, my inbox is always open. thank you for letting these pair into your heart.

[strangersteddierthings]

My Default's Self-Destruct (Oh, I'm Not Used to Normal)

@nburkhardt, this ones for you, since you've been so excited and patient! Title from Jillian Rossi's Not Used to Normal.

-

There is a doctor in his room, explaining the extent of his injuries to him and his uncle but Eddie quit listening when the doctor had started with it's our recommendation that he not start back on the scent blocker until-. Whatever the doc had to say after that was more for Wayne's benefit than his own, anyway. Eddie turns his face away from Uncle Wayne and the doc and stares at the wall.

Eddie knows he's a freak.

He never had an option to be anything else.

He was born wrong, a thing his dad would remind him of every time he was deep in his cups and feeling angry or bitter. Which is to say, he'd heard it every day until he was fourteen and, with his mom long gone and his dad's new prison sentence, he was shipped off to Hawkins, Indiana to live with his uncle.

It gave him a choice for the first time in his life.

It was salvation.

No one here knew a damn thing about him except what he wanted them to know. He got to curate his image exactly how he wanted it.

Loud, bold, mean, scary.

Anything that kept people at a distance because he wanted them to be. That's not to say he didn't let people get close. That he didn't have friends. He does.

He founded Hellfire sophomore year and made acquaintances with fellow nerds and geeks. Some stuck around, genuinely seemed to like him and he them, so he got some real friends out of it. Jeff, Frankie, and Gareth.

The only three people in the world who knew about him because he'd chosen to tell them.

But now with this doctor not wanting him to get back on his scent blockers as soon as possible, the whole town's going to know how much of a freak he really is.

His gut twists thinking about how Erica, Lucas, Max, Dustin, Nancy, Robin, and Steve already know. They have to know. Why else are they not here? There's no way they don't by now. Scent blockers need to be taken every day to work effectively. Missing a day every now and then is fine when Eddie knows he's not going to leave home or if it's just the guys he'd be seeing.

But he's missed sixteen days because today is April 7th, and he'd spent most of the prior three days fading in and out of consciousness trying to claw his way out of a coma. Now he's fully alert and aware. He'd woken up alone, but it wasn't long after that his uncle showed up, apparently summoned by a nurse.

"-ddie. Eddie, you still awake?" Wayne's voice is gentle in a way it never usually it. It makes Eddie want to pretend to be asleep.

"Yeah."

"The doc just left."

Eddie doesn't respond verbally. but he does turn his head back to look at Wayne instead of the wall.

"There's a boy down in the lobby. Been tryin' ta visit every day but, well," Wayne trails off with a one shoulder shrug, which seems the easier way to sum up all the events that place while he was in a coma. Wayne apparently making a fuss when the hospital finally got a hold of him and he'd come into Eddie's room to find his unconscious body handcuffed to the bed. No one's been around to explain the how or why to Eddie, but supposedly ten days after Eddie should have died, three days before he awoke for the first time, the "real" murderer was found and died in a gunfight with the police. Eddie's been pardoned, by some miracle.

"Why wasn't he allowed to visit?" Eddie asks, even as he dreads the answer.

"No visitor for murder suspects except family," Wayne says.

"Okay. But I was proven innocent six days ago."

"I know. This last week's been me. I told the staff no one but me could see ya until ya were awake enough to name 'em. Didn't know if that boy who led the manhunt was gonna try and get in, or send someone else after ya."

Warmth floods through Eddie then, both affection for his uncle and a hope that, maybe, no one's been here because they haven't been allowed to be. Maybe they don't- maybe they'll give him a chance even though he's a genetic freak of nature.

"Is it Dustin Henderson?"

"Nah, ain't him. He's been by as much as his ma will allow, though. Sits down there with the first boy."

If it's not Dustin then- "Steve?"

Wayne gives a one-sided grin before saying, "Steve Harrington Sir, if you wanna full name him."

That gets a laugh from Eddie. Wayne hates to be called sir, and he spent a full year calling Jeff 'Just Jeff Sir' when Jeff had made the mistake of correcting Eddie's introduction ("And this here, is Jeffery") while trying to be polite ("Please, it's just Jeff, sir."). Seems like Steve made the same mistake.

"Oh, fuck, don't make me laugh," Eddie wheezes, more from pain than laughter and Wayne looks only a little guilty for causing him pain. "But, uh, yeah. Steve's a-okay."

"Alright. I'll go let the nurse know. Anyone else you wan' ta come see ya?"

"Wait," Eddie says quickly, swallowing thickly. He has to know. "Do- have they... said anything? About me?"

"About you? What- oh," Wayne says. "Did they not know?"

Eddie shakes his head. "No. Not- I didn't tell them, but I haven't had a scent blocker since the first day of spring break. They have to know, right? Everyone always knows."

"Do you want me to ask before gettin' them approved to visit?" Wayne asks, softly and sincere and it makes Eddie's eyes water. He closes them to prevent the tears.

"No. It's fine. Better to, uhh, get this over with. Learn if this will change anything, y'know?"

"And you wanna start with Steve Harrington Sir? He's an alpha, ain't he?"

"Don't act like you don't already know. Everyone and their mother talks about how alpha he smells. I heard about Steve and his alpha scent before I'd even met the dude."

"Well, no need to be so uppity about it," Wayne grouses.

"Sorry. Guess I'm just... not in the mood to joke about this. People don't- they change how they treat me, once they know."

"Just Jeff didn't, nor Gareth or Frankie."

"Yeah, but they were my friends first. I- they saved my life but that doesn't make us friends."

Wayne shakes his head. "You tell that to the boy sittin' in the lobby right now waitin' to see ya."

That's right. The hope that has bloomed earlier. If they did know, they were still around. Either because they are his friends and they care, or they have... questions, possibly. Still, "You'll be in here? When he comes in?"

"I won't leave unless you ask me to," Wayne assures and then he's gone. Out the door, to retrieve Steve.

Jesus Christ, this is fucked. Eddie feels so anxious and scared and he shouldn't. He's never been afraid before. Just. Fed up with how people treat him. How they scrunch their noses when they smell him. When they look at the whole of him and realize there's something wrong with him and their expression changes to either pity or disgust.

Wayne's gone just long enough for Eddie to regret his decision but then it's too late. The first person to enter his room is Steve, followed closely why Wayne.

"Eddie!" Steve says, and Eddie is confused. Steve sounds... awed? A bit breathless like he's witnessed a miracle.

"Hey Steve," Eddie manages to squeak out and that's all the permission Steve seems to need. He crosses the room quickly, dragging a second chair from the corner with him to the opposite side of the bed from where Wayne has taken up station.

"Fuck, Eddie, we didn't know if you'd- but you did. You're awake," Steve says, even as he's trying to sniff the air. Probably trying to get a read on Eddie's own scent, and therefore his own emotional state. When Steve doesn't find what he's looking for, his brows furrow into confusion, and he looks so fucking adorable with his face scrunched like that. He's glad Steve can't smell that on him, at least.

"I'm awake," Eddie says.

Steve nods, but his confused face doesn't fade. Instead he sniffs the room more loudly, thoroughly. He looks to Wayne, then back to Eddie. He does that a few times before settling on Eddie.

Eddie sighs heavily. "Go ahead. Ask."

"What? Oh, uh, nothing to ask, I guess. Just thought Wayne would have scented you by now, but I don't smell him on you."

"Yeah. Wayne's nose barely works, so no point in that."

"A fact I'm thankful for every time you'd finally drag out the days old dishes from your room," Wayne quips.

"Hey!" Eddie shoots him a wounded look as his face gets hot. Low blow, old man, he thinks.

"Oh. Do you... not get isolation sickness? Is that rude to ask?" Steve asks.

"I don't get isolation sickness anymore, not since long before you were even born," Wayne answers. He's still hovering by the door, expecting to be dismissed by Eddie probably, since Steve's not- since Steve doesn't seem to- Eddie doesn't know. Is he too nice to ask out right? Too disturbed by it to even bring it up?

"And, uh, isolation sickness could never effect me," Eddie says, biting the bullet, looking at a wrinkle on his blanket instead of at Steve.

"What?" Steve sounds startled by the answer, as if he can't understand. Maybe he doesn't.

"I can't get isolation sickness."

"That doesn't- everyone but childr-" Steve cuts himself off, and Eddie hears more sniffing before his startled by Steve grabbing his arm. He looks up quickly, and sees Wayne move closer from the corner of his eye, as Steve shoves his nose into Eddie's wrist and takes a deep breath. A sound between a whimper and a whine comes from Steve. "But you- What?"

"Steve."

"Eddie, I don't understand?"

Eddie looks to Wayne, who raises his brows as if to ask want me to tell him? He almost nods, but this is going to be the first of many conversations, and he might as well get the practice in. "Steve. You can only get isolation sickness after your secondary gender develops. I can't. 'Cause I don't have a secondary gender."

Steve blinks at him. Then blinks some more. He opens his mouth, then closes it and blinks even more. "I- how- what? It hasn't developed yet?"

Eddie groans in frustration. "No, Steve. It won't develop ever. I don't have one, I won't have one! No scent gland will ever grow, no second puberty as my body changes to be able to send and receive emotional signals, no bonding gland to establish pack or mate!"

"Wha-"

"Don't! What aren't you getting? I'm a genetic fucking freak of nature who can't ever bond with pack or a mate because I don't have a secondary gender!"

Steve jerks back at Eddie's sudden outburst, "Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't- I wasn't trying to, uhh, offend."

Eddie scoffs and looks away. He wants to roll onto his side, put his back to Steve and block him out. Offend. Eddie's not offended. He's- fuck, he's sad and scared and angry. Because he spent a week flirting freely with Steve, who'd started to flirt back and now it's all back to just being a fantasy in Eddie's mind.

Steve's an alpha. Even if... even if he ever might have entertained the idea of being with Eddie, that's going to be gone now. Alpha's want omega's. They'll settle for a beta, sure, but that's what it is. Settling.

And Eddie's not even that.

He's nothing. No secondary gender, no place in society, he'll always smell like a goddamn child to everyone else. He knows how this goes. Until he's back on the scent blockers, which just make him smell like chemicals, they're going to treat him like a child, or like a pariah.

"Eddie-" Steve says, quiet.

Whatever it is, Eddie doesn't want to hear it. "I'm tired. I hurt. Please leave."

Eddie stares at a spot on the wall as Wayne escorts Steve from his room. He doesn't let himself cry until after counting to thirty in his head once the door's closed.

@i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[turbulentscrawl]

Most-to-Least Protective: Survivor Guys

I had less time to write before work today, but some good inspo so I whipped up this example for the ranking requests I take! For this one I just used the ten who came to mind and who im probably most familiar with

This is meant in general terms, not just for in Matches. The primary situations I considered for this are heated arguments, physical altercations, and near-death experiences. The ranking considers their responses to these situations, as well as how strong their protective feelings are.

MOST 🔻

Naib would do just about anything in defense of a loved one. Argue, fight, kill, anything. It’s not like he hasn’t done it all before anyway. Naib refuses to lose anyone else, it’s not even an option to him. If someone tried to make it happen anyway? He’s enraged beyond giving his usual mercy of a quick death. He’s gonna make it hurt.

Andrew is not super likely to argue on your behalf, unless you count cussing someone out as “arguing.” In which case it’s like 50/50. He’s more willing to step in physically. He doesn’t want to be a glorified meat-shield, but if your life were in danger he would 100% crack someone over the head with his shovel. He won’t intentionally kill someone for you but it may happen, depending on how that shovel lands. He won’t feel bad about it either way. He’s already an angry guy, and it’s even more intense when you’re in danger.

Kevin would initiate an argument on your behalf. Also very willing to throw hands on your behalf and doesn’t care if he gets hurt. He really doesn’t want to kill anyone, but if there’s no other choice he will. Your safety as his loved one comes before anyone else’s, even his own. Surprisingly, he becomes more level-headed and calculating as the danger to you increases. In other words, he’s at his most emotional in a verbal argument.

Norton mostly trusts you to handle your own issues, but if you’re obviously uncomfortable or intimidated he’ll place himself between you and the threat. Might get into a fight for you if it were serious, but his preferred way to handle things would be dealing petty revenge behind the scenes. (or, during a personality flip, violent revenge.) He would kill someone for you if there was no other way. His feelings are more intense than his actions normally suggest, but he’s concerned about going too far like he did in the mining accident.

William is a large, strong guy, who’s very rough in his sports but not so much outside them. He’ll gladly speak up for you if someone’s being a jerk, but he may or may not make the best arguments. He’s happy to be your shield and willing to throw a punch or two if someone else strikes first but, again, he’d rather wrap things up before getting to that point. If he had to, he’d probably kill to protect you, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life. He’s very hot-headed in regards to your safety.

If Victor is one thing, it’s brave. He’s not likely to speak on your behalf, or try to hurt someone for you, but he’s more than willing to place himself in harm’s way if it means he has even a chance of getting you out of it. He always lingers close by if there’s tension in the air so he can pull you behind him at a moment’s notice.

Luca is very likely to step into an argument on your behalf—though in his case it’s more him trying to end the argument rather than engage it. He’s willing to step into danger to guide you out of it, but not to attempt violence. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he knows he’s too weak to be helpful in that way. He’s quite calm up until your life is in immediate danger, at which point he would beg his more-capable friends to save you.

Aesop is not protective in the moment at all. He won’t step in to argue or fight for you, and isn’t very likely to step into life-threatening danger, either. His self-appointed role is healing and comforting you after the fact. And, secretly, plotting revenge. No one ever suspects Aesop as being the type to hold a grudge. But I stand by what I said in his general HCs: if we go by canon, he’s easily one of the most dangerous people in the manor.

Edgar is pretty unhelpful. Listen, listen…you’re supposed to be the tough cookie in this relationship. Edgar has venom for days; he’ll run his mouth off if you want him to, sure, but he’s not throwing himself into danger just because you can’t handle it. If you almost die…well, you’re one of the few things he cares about anymore, so the line must be drawn. If they’re within reach, the culprit ought to watch their backs for a while. And maybe not eat or drink anything they didn’t prepare themselves.

Joker is a lot like Aesop, but there’s like a 90% chance of it being without the revenge bit. He does, in fact, hold grudges, but he’s still not likely to attempt anything against someone. If they did something really horrible to you he’ll look into whatever form of public justice can be dealt to them, even if that just means trying to rally the other members of the manor into shunning them. Unlike Aesop, he’s somewhat likely to try to stop a verbal altercation, but he’s not very assertive and ends up not being much help.

LEAST 🔺

[moonshynecybin]

bc you asked for it: what happens in the same age au when they get to the premier class?

YESSSSS OKAY. so the thing is. in this scenario they are MUCHHH more codependent right out of the gate. truly like you are the only bitch i can relate to and understand and ALSO the only person i can use as a yardstick for how actually good at this sport i am. and my entire life is about discovering how good at this sport i am. like they both think they’re weird fucked up soulmates created in a lab to complement and destroy each other. and they’ve held the other’s hair back after they puked when they were teenagers AND they’ve been inside each other. WEIRD shit sublimating into their egos and sense of selves.

which means ego really changes here! because if they went up against each other in their primes i’m not sure they would be as dominant as they were in real life… if vale didn’t win 9 titles without going to the gym that would change him as a person. and he’s reacting to MARC as his main rival here so he CANT win at those mind-game psychological warfare tactics he used as a little guy because marc is simply matching him in levels of crazy… idk it has interesting implications top to botttom for how these guys fundamentally view themselves and their lives!! i like to think about it!!!

but. basically. i think the main friction in their relationship, ESPECIALLY when they get to the premiere class, is the injury thing. even more so than normal. it’s not just i love you i’m scared that you aren’t taking care of yourself. it’s I DONT KNOW WHO I AM WITHOUT YOU please take care of yourself because i can’t race when i’m WORRIED about you (we see also how marc gets about alex) and racing is the MOST IMPORTANT THING!!! this goes both ways but vale is notably more anxious about it. like this scenario would add vale to the list of people who can make marc stop racing injured (and who are COMFORTABLE asking him to stop) BUT it also makes him a direct competitor to marc. and his oldest friend. and largest enemy. with no added hero worship BUT a big dose of first-love/situationship naïveté for them both. like knowing how they get on track together, how do they even begin to resolve thatttttt… contradictions on contradictions….. so marc doesn’t race injured as often, but maybe learns to protect himself independently even LESS (he doesn’t have to think about it, that’s what vale’s for !) and it reallyyyyy tears into their relationship because vale cannot be the entire scaffolding for marc’s ability to protect himself (he is also i think not protecting himself so well from injury. anything to beat marc, don’t know where or if sic fits here etc)

ANOTHER BIG TENSION. i also think that vale would NOT be one to want to settle down that young, whereas marc would wanna get soulbonded about it… so even while vale in this au has an easier time conceptualizing how important marc is to him, i think he imposes some distance in order to go out and like. process his parents divorcing/remarrying (SIDE NOTE 2: PIC OF MARC WITH BABY LUCA. THANK YOU.), sow his wild oats, hit up the club and be a little slutty etc (SIDE NOTE 3: UCCIO AND MARC BEEF WOULD GO FUCKING CRAZYYYY HERE) and marc is down to tag along for a lot of that stuff but at the same time. they’re teens/young men living in different countries so it’s not like they’ve ever talked about what they are or asked to be exclusive… and it’s not gonna feel great when vale disappears with a girl or marc has some fling with someone back home! and it’s not like they can come out so i actually think the on again off again vibes get TURBOCHARGED. the jealousy and angst is ratchet up to ten… maybe they don’t get sepang level divorced bc ego is different and they’ve known each other longer, but the little stuff digs more… they break up a lot they make up a lot…. they eventually get married after marc’s arm injury i think… puts some stuff into perspective…

[ll-but-its-random]

GUESS WHO JUST READ LORIEN LEGACIES REBORN?

1 thing on my mind: Fugitive Six.

Not the book, the group, if that's what they're called. I love them so fcking much, like what the he-

Their dynamics are so cool, and yes there is some room for improvement like Duanphen getting more scenes/lines or Caleb getting actual character development but otherwise it's perfect.

Found family! What's not to love?

One thing is that Five finally got some of his redeeming qualities highlighted and I'm thankful he had people who mean something to him- his relationship with the Loric cannot be salvaged, not even after he tried. He called them his only friends, he got genuinely worried about Einar and Isabella in the mission and he said he "actually likes" Ran, which is really the best compliment anyone got to him.

I totally ship him with Einar: 2 psychotic murderers trying to do good and see the best in each other despite what everyone else says. I feel if asked about it, Five would go all defensive, like "Me? Einar? NO. See it's this thing called mutual exchange. I make sure he's not assassinated and he deals with my emotions for me. So what if I rushed to save him a couple dozen times, IT'S MY JOB." Einar also could've manipulated him from the start, and everyone thinks so, but he fully trust Five and wants Five to trust him and see him normally- not as a monster or villain or anything such.

Then there is Ran- I feel that she was better with Fugitive Six than at the Academy, she finally got to use her powers in a good way. Caleb is sort of her confidant, someone from her last life she still counts on. Her, Isabella and Dawn are besties, you cannot change my mind. She had an actual purpose and no one forcing her into anything.

Einar is very layered and interesting, honestly. He's a drama king, and a dress up guy- I probably should take liking to killers but oh well. I think he does have good intentions and a sort of moral code, he just wants Garde to be free and safe, and even though there were probably better ways to achieve it, his monologue on having no choice but to fight really got to me. I relate to it. Screw everything else. Also, for the love of God, please stop shocking him every ten seconds and just let him be.

Caleb and Isabella are not really my favorite, but they are good characters and decently deep ones at that. I think they can be a good pair, but I read it platonically sometimes and both work very well.

Duanphen is badass, and her legacy could've been much more useful. I like the fact she just goes around fighting with a broken leg like it ain't bothering her and when she got those stitches from Lucas, she was like "Oh well, I'm alive". Her and Five have a bicker-siblings sort of dynamic and I'm never letting go of this thought.

Also, Nine and Five fighting is as good as I remember.

"How 'bout we get started now, tubby?"

"I'm gonna jam that toy arm up your-"

---

"What do you want, Five?"

"Just wanted to say, I'm looking forward to saving your stupid academy because you're too much of a loser to do it yourself. Later, bitch."

Also, do not talk to me about the ending, I will cry.

[munson-master]

Well…Shit | Part Two

Part one Part Three

Summary: After getting your character killed in the last DnD session Eddie kind of freaks. Lucas not being able to make the next session does NOT help Dustin out either.

Eddie x Reader

A/N: well I guess this is a series now?? I still have no idea what I’m doing so forgive me for any mistakes.

★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡 ★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡

You almost dreaded going to lunch today. It was Friday and Friday meant campaign night which would normally have you buzzing with excitement. The whole table would be talking about tonight’s session but there was a slight problem this time around.

 You had died.

 Well your character did at least, and the session had already run so late that Eddie had no choice but to end it there. Dustin and You both protested obviously, him out of guilt and you out of the need to know what happened. The rest of the party though had complained, Lucas, Gareth, and Jeff both saying it was already midnight and they needed to head home.

“C’mon just another 20 minutes guys I can fix this!” Dustin pleads while flipping through his handbook. The others start to slowly pack their stuff up. Eddie remains silent, still glaring at poor Dustin. You knew he would simmer down, he loved that little nerd like a little brother, even if he wouldn’t admit to it.

“No way it’s been five hours man! I have basketball practice in the morning.” Lucas was already heading towards the door. Dustin looked up at everyone packing and leaving and let out a sigh before turning to both you and Eddie.

You knew you couldn’t ask them to stay later so you just sighed and packed up your supplies. Eddie started packing up too but kept stealing glances at you.

Dustin too, you could tell he felt so bad about what happened. He tried to apologize at least ten times, each time though you would say it was ok. Eventually he had to leave too with Mike.  He sent one more worried look as you waved good bye before walking out leaving just you and Eddie.

With the two of you alone you set your stuff back down and heaved a heavy sigh.

“Babe…sweetheart. I’m so sorry-” Eddie began knowing how upset you were at ending the session there.

“It’s ok Eds it’s late I understand.” You cut him off finally looking up at him.

“No! No y/n I’m sorry I let the trap go off. I know how important your character is…I know how much time you’ve spent… we’ve spent on this campaign! I’m dungeon master damn it I could have cheated the system. Could have lied about the damage roll. I could have just forgotten about the damn trap all together.” He rambled growing more upset with each word. He ran his fingers through his hair before pushing both palms into his eyes.

“That little shit Dustin just had to trigger it while you were in range. I had planned for you to avoid it…your dex is so high I though the hit wouldn’t land.” He kept going voice becoming strained near the end. You could tell he was starting to freak out so you stepped closer bringing your hands to his waist to get his attention.

“Eds hey! Eddie calm down. It’s just-“ you started trying to calm the growing anxiety you could see building in your boyfriend.

 “Do NOT say it’s just a game! I know we both feel the same way about this!!” He cut you off voice rising, panic setting in.

“Ouch! You wound me Munson! I would never say it’s just a game.” You grip your heart in mock horror.

“ I was going to say it’s just one session. We still have a whole session to work things out. Sinclair is a cleric right?? We can see if he has revivify prepared or raise dead. Even with the -4 modifier his level is high. There are still options babe.” You put your arms back around his waist reassuring him with a smile. Sure you were upset in the moment but giving the play through some thought, this definitely wasn’t the end of your character.

“Besides, I would never forgive you if you cheated! How could our magnificent DM even suggest that?! I would never want to ruin any part of what you have planned for a campaign! EVER!” You move your hands to his cheeks and squeeze. You put on an overly dramatic pout and glare at him.

He stares at you, panic subsiding only to be replaced with adoration. He loves how into the game you are, he loves how you can think things through logically, he loves how you can talk him down after he gets worked up. Most of all he just loves you.

“I love you; you know?”

He quietly mumbles while placing his forehead to yours.

“Hehe oh I know!”

You can’t help but grin as you pull his face down towards yours.

“And I love you. I’ll love you from beyond the grave and everything Munson.” You whisper the last part in a goofy haunting tone, lips just barely brushing his as you shut your eyes.

Eddie laughs and then closes the distance not even bothering to respond. The kiss is slow, chaste almost, you can feel his lips pull into a smile.

When you break apart, he wraps an arm around you giving you a squeeze before grabbing the rest of his stuff.

“Well one things for sure…. I’m gonna torment that little brat next round!” He lets out an exaggerated cackle while sending you a wink.

You slap his arm lightly “hey leave poor Dustin alone I thought he was going to cry earlier with those death glares you were sending him!”

You laugh while grabbing your bag with your free hand.

“So?! He literally killed you y/n! And YOU cried!” Eddie points out while holding the door for you out into the parking lot.

“Hey! It was one tear!” You shot back while holding back a laugh.

“Still, no one makes my baby cry.” He grumbled to which you actually let out a laugh.

“Technically you are just as guilty mister!” You poked him in the chest while walking backwards.

“Hey!” He shouts, smile plastered on his face as he rushes forward to grab you around the waist. You squeal as he lifts you into the air and gives you a spin around. Your shriek turning into a fit of giggles as he brings you back down to plant a quick kiss before grabbing your hand and walking home.

  ★彡

You smile remembering the walk home that night but are brought out of your thoughts as you see your boyfriend up on the lunch table spreading his famous mockery of the average student.

You spot Dustin and Mike sit down just as Eddie was in the middle of dramatically reading aloud from a newspaper which warned of the dangers of D&D, and when he finished the article, he jumped on the table in order to give a speech about forced conformity. You arrived at the table just as he was finishing up his tirade about being labeled a freak.

“Y/N! Sweetheart! You agree right?” He asked grabbing your hand as the two of you sit back down. “Every word Eds” you smile while using your other hand to open the soda can you brought.

He plays with your fingers while the two of you happily chat. You’re talking about tonight’s session when Dustin and Mike interrupt.

“A-actually about tonight- “

  ★彡

“Can you BELIEVE THEM?” Eddie rages as you follow him out to the parking lot.

“Postpone the session? not come tonight? After literally KILLING you last session?!? What because Sinclair is too busy conforming to the stereotypical jock?? Bullshit pure bullshit.” He seethed while pacing back and forth.

“Eddie…” you warn as you see him work himself up.

“What? You can’t tell me you’re ok with that!?”  He spins to face you while you just cross your arms over your chest.

“Obviously not babe. I just think before getting too pissed off we wait and see who they bring tonight.” You point out.

“Yeah, but Sinclair is the cleric! How are you supposed to be revived if there’s no cleric?! Or paladin. Or someone with a prepared spell??” He stresses which just makes you smile.

“Eddie that’s the least of our worries if my guesses are correct. I’ve been reading up and I’m almost positive that I know what crazy boss fight you have planned this round.” You smirk while giving him a nose boop stunning the poor boy.

“I-impossible!” He shouts in mock surprise. “No one can know of my plans!” He shouts as he rushes you wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you.

“We will just have to see I suppose! But seriously stop picking on Dustin! I forgive him and you have to be impartial as DM or it’s no fun!!” You giggle while resting your hands on his shoulders. He’s still lifting you so you’re looking down at his pouting lips and his scrunched brow.

“No promises y/n …. He needs at least a little torment” he whines as you bring your lips to his.

“Fine fine…. you are the best dungeon master I’ve ever had so I have no choice but to trust you.” You roll your eyes and giggle as he sets you back down.

“Henderson better deliver sweetheart, or I’ll roast him.” He grins while you just sigh the two of you heading back into the building to set up the session.

★彡

You anxiously wait for the rest of the party to show up, your knee bouncing up and down. You kept glancing over at Eddie as he poured over his notes preparing for tonight’s session. You watch as he places each figure down on the map right where they were last week. His hand hesitates on your figure though a frown forming on his lips.

“It will be ok Eds! Really even if they don’t find anyone who can cast revivify, I know you have something cooked up for them to get me back.” You try to reassure your boyfriend as he finally places you figure prone on its side next to the sarcophagus.

Eddie bites his lip before giving you a reassuring grin. “You bet sweetheart”

Before you could reply the doors burst open and in walk Dustin, Mike, and…a literal child.

Before you could even introduce yourself, Eddie is talking over you.

“Absolutely not.”

“You asked for a sub, and we delivered” Dustin shot back glancing over to you with a nervous smile.

“This is hellfire club not babysitting club!” you could tell this agitated him, you saw the slight tensing of his neck.

“I’m eleven you long haired freak” before you could talk him down the girl with an American flag tied around her steps up with a quick reply. You had to hold in an outright laugh, failing as you let out a slight snicker causing Eddie’s eyes to snap over to you before going right back to the girl.

“The child speaks…what’s your name child?” When she answers with the name Erica Sinclair your eyes widen. You had heard of this girl, mostly through Lucas complaining about her but still you knew she was sharp.

“So, this is Sinclair’s infamous sister…what’s your class and level? Level one dwarf?” You watch as Eddie tries to intimidate the small girl, if it was any other person, you would have stepped in, but you knew Eddie. You knew this was a test to see if she really was one of his lost sheep or whatever he liked to call you guys.

“My name is lady Apple Jack and I’m a chaotic-good half-elf rouge, level 14 and I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri and I’ll smile as I watch them die a slow agonizing death.” She snaps back making you actually laugh out loud this time.

“Oh my god I love her. Baby oh my gods she perfect!” You bounce in your seat shooting a wide grin over to the confident little sass master.

“But you forget babe…she is no cleric. Nor a paladin.” He reminds you and the room goes silent for a second, you all had almost forgotten how the last session ended.

Almost.

“Yeah, I heard about that shit Dustin pulled last game too and I will have you know that I have quite a few artifacts and items in my bag of holding that only a level 14 thief rouge would have.” Erica boasts smugly, never once breaking eye contact with Eddie.

A second passes, you all are holding your breath.

A grin spreads across Eddie’s face as he reaches a handout.

“Welcome to Hellfire!”

★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡 ★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡☆彡★彡

A/N: ok so here it is...Part two. I feel like I could probably make this into a longer series if anyone is interested.

Honestly though this whole fic writing is super new to me so if anyone has any tips or suggestions that would be great.

Part two on behalf of:

@mizelophsun11 @ali-r3n @jadeylovesmarvelxo @agentyuna

[fwacchi]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing well!!

May I request some headcanons for Kuzuha, Kanae & Luca about things they’d do for you if they’d notice you being sad/feeling under the weather? <3 thank you!

hii!! I'm doing well and I hope you are too! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting patiently<3 hope you enjoy it!

WHEN THEY NOTICE THAT YOU'RE SAD

genre: fluff

pairings: Kuzuha, Kanae, Luca Kaneshiro x gn!reader

Kuzuha

I’ve said this before, this man is pretty awkward in these kinds of situations.

He can’t make you or anyone else feel better as easily as others and it kind of frustrates him but that’s just how he is.

But with you, he’s desperately trying as much as possible to brighten your mood when he notices that you haven’t been yourself for quite a while now.

What exactly does he do? He talks nonsense to you!

He can’t stand that you’re not your usual self so he’s wrecking his brain for anything that he could talk to you about.

Doesn’t work? He’ll bring you out for some fresh air. Will force you out of the house if he has too.

And honestly, whether the breath of fresh air helps your mood or not, the fact that you can see him obviously trying to make you feel better definitely helps.

If you thank him for making him feel better, he would right out deny that he ever did so.

Tsundere.

Kanae

You can definitely expect a big warm hug from him.

A hug from him will make me forget all my problems tbh.

He would ask you if there’s something bothering you. If there is something specific that's bothering you, he’s all ears and gives advice when needed.

If you’re just feeling sad for no exact reason, it’s completely fine, he’s there to make you feel better through physical touches.

He would ask you what you want to do instead of just dragging you out somewhere.

You want to go out? Sure he’ll bring you anywhere. Just want to stay home? No problem at all, you have his whole attention while you rest at home. Want to sleep it off? Of course, honey, he’s there cuddling you to sleep.

Luca Kanshiro

Like Kanae, he’s hugging you as soon as he notices that you’re sad and his hugs are AMAZING. I mean, good lord, look at his booba.

Isn’t as good as Kanae at giving advice or “motivational talk” but he is a great listener if there’s something bothering you.

Would also bring you out for some fresh air to clear your mind.

And honestly, he spoils you rotten. Spoils you on normal days too but if you’re not feeling well then he’s spoiling you ten times more.

What I mean by that is when the two of you are strolling down the street, he would buy you random snacks that they sell at the street stalls.

You’re looking at a dress in one of the shops? He’s immediately dragging you into the shop and buying you exactly that dress.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Superstar Fame - Steve Harrington X Female (Celebrity) Reader

Title: Superstar Fame

Steve Harrington X Female (Celebrity) Reader

Additional Characters: Robin, Max, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Reader's mother, Reader's father, Molly Ringwald (Mentioned), and Random customer (Mentioned)

Requested by Anon (but you know who you are!)

Part 2 - Frost Palace

WC: 3,553

Warnings: Cursing, anxiety, nervousness, sot of love at first sight, slight change in storyline cause I love Max, reader has a mom and dad, All Of Me mentioned, The Breakfast Club mentioned, V mentioned, E.T. mentioned, Star Wars: Return Of The Jedi mentioned, teasing, arguing, small verbal fight? and Molly Ringwald mentioned

You let out a happy sigh as you stepped off the bus. Setting your two patchwork-patterned duffle bags down on the sidewalk, you looked around. The town seemed a bit small, definitely different than L.A. Picking up your bags again, you found the familiar family car pulled up beside you, smiling as you greeted your parents. Your father rolled down the window, a smile on his own face. 

"Don't regret taking the bus?" He asked, as your mother just continued to smile.

You shook your head, "I'm a big girl, dad. It was fun. It's not like it was a long trip, less than half an hour." You traveled to the back seats, opening the car door to toss your bags in, and shutting the door after. You walked over to the driver's side, leaning against the open window. "It's nice to finally do things on my own."

"I'm happy you got to go through that experience, hon." Your mother commented.

Your father nodded, gesturing to the back of the car with his head, "We're heading to the house. Hop in." 

You quickly hopped into the back seat, pushing your bags to the other side and buckling in. Your mother turned in her seat, giving you a smile, "You know, now that you're not acting, you'll have more time to do more things. Maybe you could get a job around here. I bet they will have a few openings." Your mother mused; looking out the window as your father drove down the street. "I hope you like the house as well, dear. I know this is a huge, strange change in your life, and I hope you're not angry about the sudden move." She continued, as you looked at her.

"No, mom. It's fine. I think this will be a great experience. Instead of going to sets all days of the week, I get to live my young adulthood in a normal town and have a regular life." You shrugged, making your mother sigh in relief.

"I was worried you'd hold this against us or something. Your father and I know how much you loved acting." 

You nodded, sighing a little as you reminisced. "Yeah, I loved it. But, I think I'd like to try something new. I have been acting since I was ten. I think I deserve a break." You joked as your father laughed.

"You definitely do, kiddo!” He pulled into the gravel driveway, "Home sweet home!" He exclaimed as he shut down the engine, stepping out of the car and rushing around the other side to open your mother's car door. She thanked him, walking up the stone steps up to the door as your father opened your door, helping you out and grabbing your bags. You wandered up the steps slowly, taking the house in. It was nice, and a large enough place that you wouldn't feel cramped and crowded living in. Your father let out a soft groan as he sat your bags down in the entry hall. "Alright, why don't you pick out your room, get settled while your mother and I get the rest of the bags, and wait for the van?" Your father thought as you picked up your bags. 

"Yes, dear. Afterwards, if you like, you could skate around the town. See if there are any good restaurants nearby for dinner." Your mother spoke as you climbed up the stairs. 

"Will do!" You called down.

The floors were plush against your feet as you slowly walked down the hall. Passing room after room, clean and empty. But, yet, it gave you a sense of calmness. Finding a room at the end of the hall, you entered. The floor was the same as in the hallway, the walls the same white. You knew you'd have to paint them sooner or later, the thought excited you. It was a pretty spacious room, with large windows on the far wall. A door to what you thought was either a bathroom or closet. Setting the bags down by the door, you walked around it. Spying out the window at the world around you, spotting a couple of kids riding their bikes down the street. 

You sighed, sitting down in the middle of your room, and shutting your eyes as you laid down on the floor. "This... Is gonna be a lot to take in, isn't it?" You questioned yourself softly, opening your eyes to look at the ceiling above you, finding a small glass light above you. Taking another deep before you stood back up, adjusting your belt as you went over to your bag. Crouching down, you unzipped it, pulling out your cherry-themed roller skates. Holding them gingerly to your chest, you skipped down the hall and down the stairs. Sitting on the bottom step of the stairs you slipped off your red converse and slid on your skates. Fixing the tongue and tightening the laces, you stood up, heading to the door. Weaving past your parents with bags and boxes, you waved goodbye as they called out to you to be careful. 

Skating down the sidewalk, you sighed with a smile on your face as the soft breeze brushed your hair around; tucking strands behind your ear occasionally. The sun shone high overhead and warmed your skin a bit as you pushed forward. As you made your way downtown, passing by shops and stores with people inside. You took note of passing a small grocery store, an electronic shop, and a burger diner. Weaving past a few people, you noticed they stared at you. Either because you were new or they knew about your acting career. Whichever, they stopped whatever they were doing and watched curiously as you passed. You have been in a few movies in your ten years of acting. More appearances in shows than ever. You wanted to audition for the new Full House show coming out that year, but when your mother brought up the idea of moving, you took it. You loved acting, it was one of your favorite things to do, but you wanted and needed a break.

You had been a bit nervous at first. You never moved as a kid, staying in L.A. for as long as you could remember, but you did travel a lot. Going from set to set. Audition to audition. It was nice to be able to get away from all of that. But, you would miss acting. It was fun and something you had longed to do since you were a kid, but it was time you had a chance to do other things too. Like go shopping, eat ice cream whenever you want. Wear what you want. Anything. Not having to wake up early to head to set or live in a trailer for weeks to months at a time. This was like a breath of fresh air.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Skating to a stop, you spot a video store. Reading the large sign, Family Video, you shrug. Might as well find a movie to watch for your first night in your new room. Stepping inside, you looked around the room as you skated forward. Sliding your hands on the counter to stop. Looking up, you watched a guy your age type away on a computer. Unknowing in your presence. You smirked lightly, before speaking. "Hello…" You glanced at his name tag, "Steve." 

Looking up at the sound of his name, Steve's eyes immediately widened. His jaw dropped slightly, not believing his eyes. He was stunned, bewildered; speechless. He couldn't believe his celebrity crush was standing right in front of him. You were wearing light blue jeans with a black studded belt. You also wore a cute blue, pink, and purple windbreaker over a Black Sabbath shirt. His cheeks started to turn a soft pink as he stared back at you with wide eyes. "Uhm..." He cleared his throat, "Yeah, hi. Wh- What can I help you with today?" Steve stumbled over his words.

"Well, I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of your Rom-Com section?" You asked, raising your brows.

Steve stammered slightly in shock, clearing his throat again, and feeling his heart practically beating out of his chest. "Right, uhh... follow me." He offered a friendly nod before leading you toward the section labeled 'Romcom.' Once he found what he was looking for, he turned to you. “Do you... Want something specific to watch?"

You shook your head, placing a finger on your chin in thought as your eyes scanned the rows of movies. "No, not really. Do you have any recommendations?" You then asked, looking up at him. 

"Huh? Oh, uh... Sure, yeah." He stuttered out as you tried to fight a smile. 

As Steve's own eyes scanned the rows of movies, you took a peek at the young man beside you. He was tall, with brown eyes and amazing brown hair. Wearing the store's uniform vest, the first button of his striped shirt undone. He was quite handsome. If you hadn't known better, you'd think he was a movie star himself.

Seemingly settling on a movie, Steve grabbed All Of Me off the shelf. Turning to you, he found you already looking at him. Averting your gaze, you cleared your throat, pressing your fist to your mouth briefly as you realized he caught you staring. "Thanks." You murmured shyly, accepting it, as you looked back up at him with a nervous smile. You both stood there awkwardly, staring at each other. "So... How much do I owe you?" You asked softly, fingers fidgeting with the movie's case. 

"It's on the house." Steve smiled gently, as he gestured to the movie in your hand.

"I can't let you do that. Please, let me-" You went to reach for your wallet only for Steve to cut you off.

"No, no, please. I insist." He insisted before you could argue further.

You bit your bottom lip before looking up at him with an idea, "Fine, but for the next movie, I'm paying." You spoke with determination. 

Stevie blinked in surprise before chuckling softly, "Okay, deal." He nodded before leading you out of the aisle "So, I'll see you around, right?"

Smiling gently, you nodded, "Yeah, I'll..." You twirled in your skates once, "Be around." Before skating backward, "Thanks, Steve." You called as you slid out the door, and down the sidewalk. 

Steve let out a sigh, waving out the door even though you were already gone, "Bye, Y/N." Dropping his hand to his side, Steve let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair before he went back around the other side of the counter. Hitting himself on the forehead, he cursed, "Good job, Steve." He scolded himself. "Couldn't even speak to her correctly." Sighing in defeat, Steve leaned against the wall. He blew his chance of acting cool. Now, what was he going to do? His heart felt heavier than usual and his cheeks blushed in embarrassment as he remembered how close he was to you. So close he could smell your strawberry shampoo.

You were just as he imagined. Sweet, funny, caring. He wasn't sure why he was so drawn to you. Whatever it was, it was making his heart race every time he saw you. He couldn't keep his mind off of you. And that scared him. You were a celebrity. He didn't know you. He didn't know how to act around you. Why did he suddenly become attracted to you like this? Yes, he had always had a crush on you ever since he watched The Breakfast Club with Robin. But, seeing you, interacting with you... He felt like his world shined brighter. He sighed, shaking his head before heading back into the storage room.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

"I'm telling you, Robin, she's here." Steve tried to convince her, leaning against the counter. 

Robin rolled her eyes, "It's really hard to believe you, Harrington. Considering the fact that she's probably filming some big movie in California." She scoffed, shaking her head.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, "But, she is here! I swear! She came in and rented a movie I recommended. She’s been coming in everyday for the past couple of days." Robin raised a brow at him, crossing her arms across her chest, giving Steve a skeptical look.

"What did you recommend?" She asked and Steve threw his hands in the air as he let out a dramatic sigh. “And how come I’ve never seen her?

"You’ve been out sick. And why does that matter? I wouldn't lie about this."

Robin gave him a deadpan look, "Really? You wouldn't lie about meeting your celebrity crush? Sounds childish, Steven."

"This is not a Dustin and Suzie situation here, Buckley. I'm telling-" The bell jingled. Steve and Robin turned, Robin's eyes widening as you walked through the door. "... The truth..."

You walked up to the counter with a smile on your face, "Hey, I have the movie." You slid it onto the counter, scooting it over to Steve. "And I loved it! You are on a roll with the movies here." You complimented as Robin just continued to stare at you.

Steve let out a nervous chuckle, "I'm glad you liked it." He answered back, before glancing at his friend who was still awestruck. "Oh!" Steve grabbed Robin's arm, pulling her over, "This is my friend, Robin. Ignore her staring." Steve introduced the short-haired brunette. “She’s usually not like this.” Steve muttered as Robin snapped out of her daze. 

Robin offered out her hand to you, a bright excited smile on her face. “Hi, I'm a huge fan. I loved you in The Breakfast Club. Did you really get to meet Molly Ringwald?" She asked quickly, her words almost mashing together at how fast she was talking. 

You took her hand, shaking it, "Of course, I did play one of her best friends." You brought your hand back, "And thank you, it means a lot.” You smiled warmly at her, "And I love your hair by the way."

Robin smiled brightly, her fingers brushing the ends of her hair briefly. "You do? Thank you." She gushed, her cheeks tinted a soft pink.

You turned back to Steve, smiling up at him, "Hi, Steve." You spoke gently, Steve returning your smile.

"Hi, Y/N." He muttered happily back, his smile growing wider. 

Robin smirked slightly, looking at the two of you knowingly while you both kept smiling at each other, until you heard the bell chime and turned to look at the entrance again, where you spotted someone coming in. Looking back at Steve, you gave him an apologetic smile, "I should go. You've got customers." You spoke, but Robin shook her head, her smirk turning into a grin. 

"No, it's fine. I got this." She spoke, giving Steve a wink before heading around the counter and up to the customer.

"So..." Steve began, wandering around the counter to stand before you, "What genre today? Or are we sticking with Rom-Com?" He asked, and you shrugged.

"As long as you don’t give me another horror one then I’m good." You glanced around the room, "Surprise me." 

Steve pursed his lips, nodding, "Surprise you..." He muttered in thought, before turning and going down an aisle, "Surprise you..." You followed close behind, excitement bubbling within you. With his finger pointing to each movie as he walked, Steve stopped at one, picking it up off the shelf. Turning to you with a smile, he handed it to you. 

"Star Wars: Return of The Jedi?" You asked as you read the title. 

Steve nodded, "Yeah, it's my favorite. I love the teddy bears." He spoke, mentally cringing at his words.

"Ewoks, Stevie. Ewoks." You corrected and Steve gave you a sheepish laugh, nodding slowly, feeling his cheeks warm up. "I love this movie. Thanks for picking it out." You told him gratefully, and Steve smiled.

"Anytime." He said as the two of you walked back to the counter.

"Hey! Steve! Your brats are here!" Robin called as she gestured to the door. 

Steve turned and his eyes widened in fear, "Oh shi-"

"What's wrong?" You asked, turning to see a small group of kids wander over. They were all chatting about something, laughing with smiles on their faces. They looked around fifteen, sixteen tops. "Who are they?"

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I used to babysit them, still friends with them..." He turned back to see the kids standing around a cardboard cutout of a character, "Unfortunately..." He finished.

You hummed, glancing at the group with a small frown, "They seem nice. Might say hello."

Steve shook his head rapidly, "Oh, god, no. Dustin and Max both love The Breakfast Club." He tried to warn you, as you turned back to him. “They’ll just annoy you.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms, "Do you love The Breakfast Club?" You asked, and Steve nodded.

"Yeah, it's a good movie." Steve replied, watching as you gave a playful shrug.

You smiled sweetly at him, "Then I doubt they'll be any less than kind." You said before walking towards the children.

Steve bit his lip as he watched you walk over, hoping to god that Dustin wouldn't say anything.

"Hey," You spoke up, stuffing your hands in your windbreaker pockets as the four teens turned around. Immediately, the red-headed girl and the curly-haired boy's eyes widened. 

"Holy sh-" Dustin spoke up as Max interrupted him.

"You're Y/N L/N." She spoke, jaw dropped slightly.

"This is the best day of my life." Dustin breathed out as Lucas and Mike looked on confused.

"Uh, sorry, but who are you?" Mike asked, gaining your attention.

Before you could answer, Dustin spoke up, "How could you not know who she is? She is the Y/N L/N. She was in The Breakfast Club, E.T, and she was also in season one of V!" He exclaimed as Lucas and Mike continued to look at him blankly, only to turn their gaze over to you, confusion on their faces.

You tilted your head as you stood there awkwardly, "Is he usually like this?" You chuckled and the two boys just laughed.

Lucas nodded slowly, "Yes."

"Hmm, well. What are your names?" You asked, and Dustin jumped at the opportunity to say his first.

"I'm Dustin!"

"My name is Max." The redhead spoke, and you smiled at her in return.

"I'm Mike and this is Lucas." Mike introduced, as Lucas gave you a small wave.

"Well, it is nice to meet you four. Steve told me that he used to babysit you." You brought up as Dustin scoffed out a laugh.

"Pff, did he tell you that he-" Max cut Dustin off by punching him in the arm. "Ow!"

Your furrowed your eyebrows, "What?" 

Dustin gave you a smile, rubbing his hurt arm, "Nothing. Misspoke." 

You hummed, clasping your hands before you, "Oh, uh, alright..." You spoke, as Dustin just simply nodded before pausing, and looking up at you.

"Actually, uh, could I have your autograph, please?" He asked sheepishly, as your face lit up in delight.

"Sure!" You exclaimed happily, taking out your notebook from your over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out the pen that you always had with you. Scribbling your signature, you turned to Max. "Do you want one too?" You asked her as she looked up at you with wide eyes, nodding. Scribbling down your signature again, you ripped off the pages and handed them to the two. "Here ya go!"

Max smiled widely, "Thank you so much!"

Dustin nodded with a huge grin, "Yeah, thank you!"

"It's no problem, you two." You waved your hand dismissively, "I'd do anything for my biggest fans."

"Alright, let's not bother Y/N anymore, alright? Are you guys going to rent a movie or not?" Steve spoke up, walking over to 'save' you from the teens.

The teens seemed to ignore Steve's words and headed down an aisle without another word. You smiled, crossing your arms as you glanced up at Steve. "They seem like good kids. I don't know why you were so worried."

Steve blushed lightly, scratching the back of his neck nervously, "Well, they could be worse..." He trailed off, "Uh, so... I was wondering if... Maybe... We could…" He trailed off, before clearing his throat, Keep it together, Steven. "Maybe. Uhm. Would you maybe wanna have dinner with me?" He rushed out before taking a deep breath, "If you wanted."

You looked up at him with a shocked smile, "You want to have dinner with me?" You asked, "As like... A date?"

Steve blushed, "Um. Yeah, yeah, I mean, not that I would mind that! If that's what you'd like!" His voice sounded higher pitched than usual.

You let out a small chuckle, "Yeah, I'd like that. I would really like that." You reassured, causing Steve to smile and nod, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"Thank god, I mean, cool... Yeah. Uh, I could pick you up? Do you like milkshakes?" He asked as he handed you your movie.

You sputtered out a laugh, "Steve, who doesn't like milkshakes?"

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (19)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy knows that her recovery won’t be quick, and she now has another decision to face. 

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in.

This chapter hits on a little bit of a nerve and I kinda went into a lot of depth about Amy's past relationship which was always written to reflect a bad relationship I had. So, with that, a lot of me comes out in this chapter, which I apologise for.

Lucas and Amy both snuggled into bed together that Christmas Eve morning. Lucas was scheduled to work from Christmas Day afternoon, and then Amy would work on Boxing Day. Idly, the two of them began to kiss, which then turned into a round of slow love making. 

By mid-afternoon, Amy was awake, and was in the kitchen, preparing a dinner for that evening while both of them were home together. Lucas was still sleeping when her phone rang. 

“Hello?” she asked as she saw Ruth Evershed’s name flash on the screen. 

“Hi, Amy,” Ruth replied. “I hope I didn’t disturb you. Debrief tonight at six. Just dial into Teams; Harry will be sending the invites out to everyone over email. Did you get much rest?” 

“I got a few hours in. Lucas is still asleep, and I’m putting the dinner on for later. It’s the only time that both of us will be here over Christmas, so we’re having our meal tonight. How about you?” 

“I can never sleep much after operations. I don’t sleep well normally, so I’ve been awake since. And then I’m back on shift tomorrow morning.” 

Lucas stepped into the kitchen, yawning, and flicked on the kettle for a cup of tea. Meanwhile, Amy was finishing her call with Ruth. 

“Debrief tonight at six, over Teams,” Amy explained. 

“Fair enough. Cuppa?” 

“Please.”

The rest of the day passed with no incident. Amy dished up their dinner at seven, once the debrief had finished. 

“Is it okay?” she asked, watching Lucas for a few seconds as he chewed on a roast potato. 

“It’s lovely.” 

“This is my first Christmas dinner away from the family,” Amy explained. “Last year I went back to Coventry over Christmas. This is the first Christmas I’ve spent here, and it feels a little bit weird. But in a good way. Every year I spent Christmas with Mum and Dad.” 

Lucas reached across and took Amy’s hand in his. “This is the first Christmas that I haven’t been alone in about ten years.” He looked at Amy, seeing her eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“Don’t you dare apologise,” Amy demanded. “If I’d have known then I’d have made everything more special.” 

“Everything about this year has been special. Every day since February the twentieth has been special.” 

Amy giggled to herself and then looked back towards Lucas. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. He’d remembered the one important date, the day that had been the start of it all: their first kiss. Amy thought back to that evening, when they had finally been able to spend time together. None of the times apart in between mattered; when Lucas had distanced himself after their first few times of intimacy, worried that he would never be able to fully commit to her. Then when Sarah had approached Amy, trying her best to blow apart the relationship. The only thing that mattered was the start of it all. And now. 

***

Early morning on New Year’s Eve and Lucas drove himself and Amy up to Coventry. The two of them had a week off; seven whole days to enjoy each other’s company. At around nine, Lucas pulled into a motorway service station for a quick break, and brought himself and Amy a large coffee each. 

As the two of them walked hand in hand back to the car, Amy spoke. “I want to tell Mom and Dad what I do for a living. I hate the thought of lying to them. I know we’re not meant to tell people, but protocol says immediate family can be told.” 

“Aim, it’s your choice. I can’t tell you what to do.” 

“And I won’t tell them about you. I suppose I could just tell them I saw the advert and applied. It’s not that insane to believe, is it? I don’t want to draw you in if it’s something you’re not comfortable with.” 

Lucas sighed. “It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, Aim. I really like your parents, and they’re good people. I think I worry they might accidentally say something to someone else. It’s easily done; you start talking and before you know it you’ve dropped something out that should be kept quiet.” 

They both approached the car and stood either side of it, hovering by the doors. “I won’t say anything then,” Amy said, looking away. “They both still think I’m at the JobCentre, and you’re with the police, so I’ll just keep that story going.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, Lucas noticed. Every now and again, his steel blue gaze drifted over towards Amy. But whenever he looked at her, she was staring blankly out of the window. “Aim, talk to me,” he began. “You’ve been quiet ever since the service station. Don’t be upset with me about what I said. I don’t think you always see the risks with doing what we do.” 

“I do see the risks, Lucas. Very much so.” Amy’s voice was sharp. “Please don’t talk down to me.” 

“I’m not talking down to you. I’m trying to remind you…”

“You’re trying to remind me of how stupid I am…”

“No!” Lucas snapped. “That’s not what I’m trying to remind you of. For fuck sake. Whenever have I ever treated you like you’re stupid or implied that you are?” 

Amy blushed, feeling her eyes sting with tears and focused on the passing hedgerows. The blur of green hues calmed her, bringing her back to some kind of grounding. “Just forget I said what I did.” 

Lucas looked over at her sadly and reached for her hand which was on her thigh. “You think so little of yourself sometimes, and of me.” 

Amy could feel his fingers tighten around her hand, and it made a swirl of emotion flood to her chest. 

***

For the first time in quite a few years, Amy had someone to kiss at midnight. She stood on the back door of her parents’ house, her arm loose around Lucas’ waist, joined by the rest of the family. Fireworks burst open in the night sky, illuminating the black backdrop with a whole rainbow of colours. Amy kissed Lucas, quietly wishing him a happy new year, and then watched him smile at her.

Sharon Holland, Amy’s mother, couldn’t help but watch her youngest daughter. The love radiated between Amy and Lucas, and she smiled. Finally her daughter was happy and in the arms of a man who was openly ready to show his love. Sharon couldn’t remember any time that Adam had ever held Amy so tight and looked into her eyes with such adoration. 

Leah and Ruth, Amy’s sisters, sat a few feet away on the garden patio table, drinking glasses of wine, while their partners jostled playfully for position of head firework lighter. Amy’s nephew, Thomas, was busy playing with his new handheld video game, not paying much attention to the fireworks. 

By just after one in the morning, Ruth and Leah had left. Lucas and Richard, Amy’s father, were having a drink in the living room, while Amy sat alone with Sharon. By now and Amy had changed into her pyjamas and slippers and was stood in the kitchen, pouring two mugs of tea. 

“I want to talk to you about something, Mum,” Amy announced, carrying two mugs of tea to the table. “I just can’t keep secrets from you, no matter how hard I try. Lucas didn’t want me to say anything, and it’s for a good reason.”

“Oh,” Sharon said simply. 

Amy noticed her mother’s eyebrows furrow. “Please don’t think bad of Lucas. You’ll see why it’s awkward. I may as well just say it: I work for MI-5.” 

Sharon couldn’t help but smile. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“No, I just…I couldn’t imagine you doing that, but at the same time, it’s such a good fit for you. And, I’m guessing Lucas does, too?” 

Amy glanced at the doorway and then back toward her mother. “He didn’t want me to say anything. We’re not really meant to, but it was through him that I got the job. They recruited me. Remember when I got shot?” 

“Um, as if I could forget?” Sharon scoffed. 

“The shooter was connected to a case.” Amy glanced at the floor, knowing that her last sentence was a lie. Sarah was more than connected to MI-5 cases; she was Lucas’ ex and a CIA agent. If Amy told her mother of the true identity of the shooter, how would that impact her view of Lucas? Amy would never want any kind of division between her fiancée and her family. She wanted everything to be perfect, unblemished, untainted. 

“Please be careful,” Sharon said. She looked at Amy, her dark eyes full of concern and love. “We could have lost you back in August, love. And now you’re doing this?”

“It’s an analyst role. I don’t go out on surveillance. That’s what Lucas does. But please don’t tell him I’ve told you. We’re told not to tell people because we can be compromised, and we can put our loved ones in danger. But I couldn’t lie to you. You’re the last person in the world I’d ever lie to.” 

“Don’t you think Lucas deserves that privilege, too?” 

Amy lay in bed, the clock showing that it was three in the morning. Lucas was asleep next to her, on his side, facing away. In the dark and she could just make out the dark lines of the tattoos on his back. Dum Spiro Spero. The Latin words were at the very top of his back, at the base of his neck. Amy remembered asking him what it meant. While I live, I hope. 

Amy slid out of bed and wondered downstairs, heading into the kitchen for another cup of tea. She was wide awake now, her mind ablaze with memories of her former life, the life before Lucas and MI-5. Her dark times. When Lucas had been in prison and had those words, Dum Spiro Spero, etched into his skin, that was his darkest time. But he had still lived in hope. He had still hoped that he would one day live days of love, laughter and peace. And so had Amy. No one had ever seen the pain during all those years she spent in a loveless relationship, yearning for someone to truly love her. Lucas had endured physical torture, while she had endured emotional torture. She had been denied not only love, but time and effort. Adam walked the walk, but had never talked the talk. Only one person had ever seen it. Sharon. The person who knew Amy better than anyone and she had seen the distance in her daughter’s relationship. She had seen the times they would be out as a couple, and walk separately, not hand in hand. The times she had spoken to Amy, hearing the crack in her voice, when it was announced that Adam would not be joining them for a gathering. Or if he did join for a gathering, he was more interested in everyone else’s company, but Amy’s. Then tonight, as everyone gathered in the garden to watch the fireworks, Lucas held Amy close to him. Lucas wasn’t ashamed to be seen holding Amy; he wanted to be close to her every second of the day. 

Would Amy ever truly believe that Lucas loved her? She tried to. She knew she adored him, but to think that he might feel the same was alien to her. The mental memories of Adam were becoming warped by time, but the emotional memories were still vivid. 

Amy took her cup of tea back up to her old bedroom, which was now the guest room. As she entered, she could hear Lucas mumbling. She placed the mug down on the bedside table and slipped back under the duvet, shifting over to Lucas, where she lay behind him. “It’s okay,” she whispered. Her arm draped over him and she clung to him, resting her chin on his shoulder, where she kissed his bare skin.

Lucas moaned again and began to jolt. 

“Shhh,” Amy cooed. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here.” 

Lucas began to jolt more, his body growing rigid and then small movements bursting every few seconds. 

Amy gently pulled him over on to his back, but as she did so, he began to call out.

“Lucas?” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Wake up, sweets. It’s okay.” 

Lucas’ eyes shot open and he looked at Amy, startled. But as recognition poured into his gaze, his body grew limp and he smiled. “Aim, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I haven’t woke anyone up, have I?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you did. Are you alright?” 

Lucas didn’t answer but shifted over and kissed Amy. The kiss grew deeper and Amy fell down into the mattress, her back flat. Lucas rose over her and then allowed the kiss to become slow, only a series of pecks. He rested his head on her shoulder. “Why do you insist on putting up with me?” 

“I could very well ask you the same question,” Amy giggled. 

“I don’t put up with you. I’m privileged and blessed to wake up next to you every morning.”

Amy knew she couldn’t hold any secrets from Lucas. Her mother was right; Lucas deserved to always be told the truth. “I told Mum about my job.” 

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the reaction. 

***

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[mint-yooxgi]

Bro I immediately fell in love with yan!wayv x maid!reader (shouts out to the lovely who sent it in) could we get a pt2 mayhaps???

Anonymous Said: can we have a part 2 for that yan!kings! wayv?

Anonymous Said: can we mayhaps have a pt 2 to the yandere wayv kings drabble?? thank you!

Part One

***

As with every day before this one, you were given a simple task: clean the library. Only, what should have been easy, and only have taken you a few hours at most, turned into one of the most difficult assignments you’ve ever had.

Normally, when you go to do your work, you’re by yourself, or joined by other palace servants to help in whatever task you’ve been sent to do that day. Only, today, when you were told you were going to be alone in the library while you worked, you had walked in on not one, but two of your king’s friends sitting by the large bay windows. They had been leaning into each other, voices low so as not to be overheard, but still, the frowns on their faces had made it seem as if they were arguing about something, or rather, someone.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” you greet with a bow towards each of them in turn.

King Ten smiles warmly at you as Prince Yangyang moves to stand.

“What brings you to the library today?” Yangyang asks, sounding casual but in reality wanting to keep you here for as long as he can.

You blink, not used to being acknowledged by other royals like this. Well, other than when King Ten and the rest of Kun’s friends visit. They all seem to be the only ones who treat you like a person. It’s just been so long since you’ve last seen them, you’ve forgotten what it feels like.

“Please, do not mind me,” you bow once more. “I will do my best not to disturb you while I clean.”

Ten frowns slightly, “do you ever get time off from your duties?”

“Oh, yes!” You reply politely. “My King give all of his servants ample time to themselves, especially in the evenings.”

There are those words again. Your King. They both scowl.

“Which means you should be able to accompany me for dinner tonight if you have the evening free.” King Xiaojun says, appearing from around the corner of one of the shelves, moving to lean against it in the next moment with his arms crossed casually in front of his chest. “That is, if you’ll join me, of course.”

“Perhaps they would like to accompany me instead,” King Sicheng says, his voice nearly startling you as you turn to see him approaching you from behind. “I was planning on dining in the gardens this evening.”

The smile he sends you is soft, but to the other three, it appears as calculated as his statement. Each of them have done their research on you, of course, and they all know you enjoy spending some of your free time in the gardens. They still haven’t forgiven Prince Lucas for sending you an arrangement of your favourite flowers before they could themselves.

“That does sound lovely,” you hum, and your words have Sicheng’s smile widening, only for it to fall in the next second, “but I'm afraid I'll have to decline Your Majesty’s offers. I must complete my tasks for the day and I'm afraid I will not be finished in time for the evening meals.”

“You mean you’re going to clean right through supper?” Prince Yangyang asks in disbelief.

“It really isn’t good to be skipping meals,” Ten adds with a frown.

“Oh, no!” You’re quick to reassure them all at the concerned looks they throw your way. “The cooks always set aside meals for the staff when they have to work late. One of them will be me, today.”

Just then, you hear the doors to the library open and three sets of footsteps entering the room. As soon as you lock eyes with the king, you bow deeply.

“Your Highnesses. My King.” You straighten as Kun stops a few feet away from you, book held in his hand as both Prince Hendery and Prince Lucas flank him on either side. “I will get started on cleaning the library right away.”

“Were these punks bothering you?” Kun asks, tone teasing to you, but pointed to the other royals in the room. “I cannot have you near my staff if all you’re going to do is bother them as they try to do their jobs.”

“Oh, no, My King,” you shake your head, quick to defend them. “None of Their Majesty’s or Their Highnesses could ever be a bother to me.”

Kun doesn’t fail to miss the way the four males in front of him smirk, and he’d bet everything the other two behind him are as well.

“Alright,” he sighs. “But if they are, tell me and I'll kick them out.”

You bow to him once more, scurrying off in the next moment to begin your task of cleaning the library.

About an hour passes and you manage to to have cleaned a large portion when you finally move back to the main section of the library. All seven royals are still there, sitting around in the lounges. Some converse with one another, while a few read leisurely. You notice both Kun and Ten have a small stack of books resting beside them each.

Setting your attention back onto the task at hand, you don’t even register Hendery approaching you until he’s practically standing right beside you. You jump.

“Your Highness,” you blink at him with wide eyes, “you startled me.”

“My apologies,” Prince Hendery chuckles.

“Stop terrorizing my staff,” Kun chastises from the lounge he’s currently sitting on.

Hendery simply rolls his eyes, making you chuckle. Of course, he can feel the six sets of eyes glaring holes into his back at this fact, but the smugness he feels at being able to make you laugh is worth it every time.

Acting casual, Hendery pretends to browse some of the titles in front of him. Of course, he’s not going to let you know the real reason he came over was to talk to you, and be near you, even though the others can tell that that was exactly his intention. They only wish they had been quick enough to do so themselves.

Trailing a finger along the shelf, Hendery hums. “You clean exceptionally well.”

“I should hope so,” you huff out a breath through your nose as you reply without thinking, “that’s my job.”

The library, which had been silent before, now fills with a deadly tension, as if the fall of a pin could set off a catastrophe at any moment. You can feel all eyes on you now, and you straighten.

You clear your throat, “I mean-”

Before you can even rush out an apology for talking back to the prince, you hear three sets of laughter erupt from behind you. Turning around, you see both King Ten and Prince Yangyang doubled over in their seats while King Xiaojun throws his head back in his. Even King Kun cannot seem to fight the way his lips curve upwards at your response.

“I meant,” Hendery flushes, “you always do an extraordinary job.”

You avert your gaze to the floor, embarrassment causing your voice to come out smaller than you intend. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Hendery smiles, but before he can say anything, Prince Lucas is beating him to it.

“Really, you are incredible,” he adds. “It’s been, what? An hour and you’re already halfway done?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” your face heats, shifting slightly in your spot.

“Really, my own staff could learn a thing or two from you,” Ten adds.

“Agreed.” Yangyang hums.

“You should come work for me, instead.” Xiaojun voices casually, turning a page in his book. His words, which sound like a playful quip to you, couldn’t be more pointed towards the other six.

“I think they are quite happy where they are right now,” Kun chimes in, not even raising his gaze from the book in his hands.

“I think they can speak for themselves,” Sicheng smiles, again, kindly at you, calculated towards the others.

“My King is right,” you nod in confirmation. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Your words make Kun’s heart absolutely soar in his chest, a bashful smile taking over his features as the other six turn to shoot him looks of either disbelief, or glare at him.

“Why does he make you refer to him like that?” Yangyang asks the question on all of their minds.

“Like what, Your Highness?” You tilt your head slightly in curiosity.

“We’ve never once heard you address him as ‘Your Majesty’, or anything else,” Lucas says casually, even though he (and the other five) are hanging onto every word.

“Are you asking me why I refer to My King as ‘My King’?” Your brow furrows, and Ten nearly scoffs at the question you pose.

Well, when you put it like that...

“Yes,” Hendery confirms with a nod. “We're just curious, is all.”

Looking towards Kun, you meet his gaze which is suddenly on you as he peers over the top of his book. Subtly, he nods his head, as if encouraging you to answer.

So you do.

“Because that’s what he is.” You reply simply. “He is My King.”

Xiaojun’s eyes narrow, having noticed this small interaction between the both of you. He scoffs. “A king who not only forces you to address him as such, but who needs to give you permission to speak as well.”

Kun’s eyes narrow at King Xiaojun across from him.

“If you were to come live with me, you’d never have to abide by those types of stupid rules again,” Ten voices, and all heads, including your own, turn to look at him. “You could address whoever, however you wanted. You could speak your mind freely without having to seek permission to do so.”

At this, Kun slams his book closed, but your voice halts him in his tracks, calming the storm raging just beneath the surface of his skin.

“You all think I refer to him as ‘My King’ because he makes me do so? That I need his permission to speak my mind?” The disbelief in your tone has them blinking in surprise at you.

“Then why do you do such things if he does not command you to do so?” Sicheng could not be more confused as he meets your gaze.

“Why?” You reply, incredulously, and your next words have Kun’s chest swelling with pride while the others look on with envy clear in their gazes. “Because I respect him.”

[strangertheories]

Part of me think some people are overreacting with byler right now. Because it’s not queer baiting, if Will isn’t made gay in canon by the last season then there is queer baiting but at the end of the day byler itself isn’t (said by a byler shipper)

And I definitely think there was a lot of Bad choices made this season for byler. Like mikes whole my life started when he met El (and when will disappeared) made no sense and was terrible.

I love byler but- and while we absolutely can have a queer couple in the show- we have to also understand that hey not all ships we want will end up together. And that’s okay. Not what we want but that’s life and this show Is realistic for some stuff like that. Gay or not we don’t always get the person we are pinning for and it sucks but it’s normal.

However definitely think a Lot about Mike was out of character this season just to add more to his relationship with El which is Not okay.

Because romantic or not Mike does care about Will. That’s what ten years of friendship? He hasn’t even known El for half of that. That is not something that can just be ignored for a het relationship

I agree and disagree. I think that you could argue fairly well that within the show, Byler was not baited. Obviously I can't tell someone who watches the show whether to feel baited or not, but I doubt Mike's relationship with Eleven was intentionally poorly written so that we'd think he was gay. I don't think Byler not being canon is inherently queer baiting. My mantra with it was always 'disappointed but not surprised' which, after watching Volume 2, is exactly how I feel. I understand they're not going to do every ship which is why I've always had the attitude that of they don't do Byler I won't be shocked but it is a missed opportunity.

What I take issue with was the marketing of the show. I understand that the social media interns posting about Byler weren't on the creative team and just wanted engagement, but they made a corporate decision to give a lot of people hope only for that to just not happen. Not to mention how often it was raised in interviews and Noah Schnapp talking about how now's the time to ship it. Which I think is pretty bait-y.

It's a similar thing with Will. I can kind of get the arguement that he's taking his time to come out, but they told us that he would. The Duffers said his sexuality would be addressed and I think Shawn Levy said that too which was just a blatant lie. I mean, I would've loved him to have said it to Johnathan because now I have to deal with at least a year more of people claiming that Will is immature for not liking girls, instead of the fact that he's just gay. And don't get me started on the people who thinks he likes Max or Eleven or Nancy. That's not even addressing the fact that his feelings were a plot device so the straight people could get together and be happy which whilst not queer baiting is just really shitty.

And in terms of Mike, I don't think he was well written. He was distant from Eleven and a rubbish friend. Sure he felt unneeded by Eleven but why couldn't this have been shown to us before. I know to my followers I'll sound like a broken record, but I can just tell they wanted a big monologue where he tells Eleven he loves her and worked backwards from there. The issue being that we already knew that. So they made him a distant and shitty boyfriend who seems so disinterested in his girlfriend that we thought he was gay.

And then in terms of his friendship with Will, something really switched after S2. They've gone from having a super close relationship where the best thing Mike ever did was become Will's friend to Mike's life beginning the day Will went missing. Their talks with each other this season were nice, but in every one of them, Will was clearly the wiser. And then the last one with Will talking about Eleven... How oblivious did Mike have to be? Remember in S2 when Mike said Will's quiet and Lucas said he's always quiet? That was meant to show Will and Mike have a special bond and that Mike notices what Will's going through. But now Will is sobbing into his hand whilst Michael Wheeler believes a thinly veiled coming out is about his girlfriend.

So yeah that's my opinion on the matter. I think it could've not been queer baiting but some of the marketing choices make me feel pretty baited right now. Thanks for the ask (:

[taradactyls]

Timeline of the Start of Pride and Prejudice

I think it's easy to forget just how short a time Bingley and Darcy were actually at Netherfield - from the Meryton Assembly (when they meet the Bennets) to the Netherfield Ball (after which they leave the neighbourhood) is only six weeks. After only knowing each other six weeks Bingley and Jane were so in love that is endured an almost ten-month absence when they thought their love was hopeless. After only knowing Elizabeth a month Darcy began to feel he could be in danger if she were not so beneath him.

That would seem foolishly fast for a relationship to move in modern times, but a six week affection was totally normal to marry on back then. It's no wonder Jane Austen saw so many ill-suited couples.

I was trying to make my own timeline when I found the Pemberley.com one, so I used that as the base and added some extra information. I'm using the 1811/1812 calendar. I'm doing this to show where my fic Trying to Tread Water diverges from canon and as some people were surprised at the chapter 6 line mentioning Elizabeth has known Darcy less than 2 months.

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE TIMELINE

Before 29/9/1811 (Michaelmas)

Mr Bingley takes possession of Netherfield.

Soon after

Mr Bennet is one of the earliest to wait upon Mr Bingley but keeps that secret from his wife and daughters.

A few days later

Mr Bingley returns Mr Bennet’s call. He does not see the young ladies, but from an upstairs window they see he has a blue coat and rides a black horse.

Tuesday 15/10/1811

Mr Collins letter of reconciliation and request to visit sent to Mr Bennet, who doesn’t tell his family.

Around the same time (middle of October)

The Meryton General Assembly. Mr Bingley dances twice with Jane and Mr Darcy says Elizabeth is "not handsome enough to tempt me."

The following day (middle of October)

The Bennets and Lucases meet to talk over the ball. Around now Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst declare Jane Bennet to be a "sweet girl" and Mr Bingley feels authorised to think of her how he chooses.

A day or more later (middle/late October)

The ladies of Longbourn wait on those of Netherfield. This is likely the morning mentioned later when Jane sees Bingley at his own house and when Darcy looks at Elizabeth only to critise.

At least the next day (middle/late October)

In due form the Netherfield ladies wait on the Bennets.

Unknown (multiple different days in middle/late October)

Jane (and presumably the other Bennets) dine in company with Mr Bingley four times. Mr Darcy begins to admire Elizabeth during these dinners.

unknown (middle/late October)

Militia appear to arrive now - after the General Assembly and recently enough that Kitty and Lydia are still learning about them, but long enough that they have been introduced to Sir William Lucas and some receive an invitation to the evening at his house. They will remain quartered at Meryton for the winter.

About Tuesday 29/10/1811

A large party assembled at Sir William Lucas’s. Jane and Bingley have known each other a fortnight and Elizabeth observes how much they seem to admire each other, and that they're well on their way to being in love. Charlotte thinks Jane should show more affection than she feels, to secure him, as "happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance." Elizabeth thinks it is not a sound way to approach marriage. Mr Darcy wants to know more of Elizabeth, and listens to her conversation with Colonel Forster, would have danced with her at Sir William's suggestion, and thinks about "the great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow;" much to Miss Bingley's annoyance.

Multiple instances - likely just before, but perhaps starting immediately on 30/10/1811 or just after

Kitty and Lydia are visiting Meryton more frequently than normal for them and their sisters (which was three or four times a week) on account of the officers.

About Monday 4/11/1811

Mr Bennet replies to Mr Collins, consenting to his visit. He still does not tell his family.

Tuesday 12/11/1811

Jane is invited to dine at Netherfield by Miss Bingley, the gentlemen are dining with the officers. She goes on horseback in the rain and must stay the night, thanks to Mrs Bennet's machinations.

Wednesday 13/11/1811

Jane writes she is ill, and Elizabeth goes to Netherfield to be with her. Her petticoat is six inches deep in mud but Darcy thinks her fine eyes "were brightened by the exertion." Elizabeth does not play cards with them that evening but does join their discussion about what being an accomplished woman entails.

Thursday 14/11/1811

Mrs Bennet, Kitty, and Lydia, visit Netherfield and mortify Elizabeth. But Mr Bingley does promise to host a ball once Jane is well. That evening Darcy writes a letter to Georgiana, which Miss Bingley keeps interrupting. Darcy, Bingley, and Elizabeth, have a spirited conversation and discuss the character of the gentlemen. When Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst play the piano-forte and sing Darcy asks Elizabeth if she would like to dance, but she rejects him.

Friday 15/11/1811

Miss Bingley tries to provoke Darcy into disliking Elizabeth in the shrubbery the next day and is almost overheard. Jane is able to come downstairs temporarily and is entertained by Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. When she grows bored of reading the second volume of the book Darcy is reading, Miss Bingley invites Elizabeth to take a turn about the room with her. Elizabeth learns Darcy is not to be laughed at and Darcy begins "to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention."

Saturday 16/11/1811

When requesting the carriage so they may go home, Jane and Elizabeth are persuaded to stay one more day at Netherfield. Darcy adheres to his book and barely speaks ten words to Elizabeth, as he does not want to give the impression that she may influence his happiness.

Sunday 17/11/1811

Jane and Elizabeth leave Netherfield after morning service and go home. Lydia and Kitty reveal it is hinted that Colonel Forster is going to marry soon.

Monday 18/11/1811

At breakfast, Mr Bennet reveals that Mr Collins will arrive to stay at four o'clock. Mr Collins wonders to which of his fair cousins the excellence of the cookery was owing, and is told they can afford a cook. He tries to read Fordyce's Sermons, as he never reads novels, but is interrupted by Lydia. He came to Longbourn to find a wife and initially settles upon Jane.

Tuesday 19/11/1811

Mr Collins learns from Mrs Bennet that Jane will likely soon be engaged, and switches his attention to the next eldest and prettiest - Elizabeth. On their way to see Aunt Philips the girls meet Mr Wickham walking with Mr Denny, whom has just returned from town. Elizabeth notices his and Darcy’s odd recognition of each other.

Wednesday 20/11/1811

Supper with the Philipses, Where Wickham uses his charm to convincingly lie about his history with Darcy. Elizabeth goes away with her head full of him.

Thursday 21/11/1811

The Bingleys pay a visit to Longbourn and announce their ball. Mr Collins engages Elizabeth for the first two dances, which she had hoped would be taken by Mr Wickham.

Friday 22/11/1811 to Monday 25/11/1811

A succession of rain keeps the ladies indoors.

Tuesday 26/11/1811

The Netherfield Ball. Elizabeth and Darcy share a dance and verbal spar. Mr Wickham stays away. Mr Collins embarrasses Elizabeth with his dancing and by introducing himself to Mr Darcy, and generally makes a fool of himself. Mrs Bennet is vulgar and embarrassing by talking of Jane marrying so well by getting Mr Bingley. Mary exhibits and Mr Bennet intervenes poorly. Kitty and Lydia generally make fools of themselves. Elizabeth considers it a complete disaster except that Jane and Bingley seem happy to spend all their time together.

Note: In the book, this is the last time Jane and Bingley see each other until mid September of the next year. Elizabeth won't see Darcy again until the 24th March in Kent. Six weeks together versus months of separation.

The canon divergence for my fic (Trying to Tread Water) begins the next day:

Wednesday 27/11/1811

Mr Bingley still leaves on business as normal; and Mr Darcy, Miss Bingley, and Mrs Hurst discuss his attachment to Jane and resolve to follow him to London. Charlotte also still visits as per the book, but she finds a very different scene when she arrives. For during Mr Collins' proposal to Elizabeth, Mr Bennet collapses and remains unconscious, apparently near death.

This ripple event changes most of the rest of the book, as Mr Darcy hears that Elizabeth will have no choice but to marry Mr Collins lest her family become destitute. He finds the thought unbearable to him, and he resolves to make her a better offer. But, when she refuses him, he finds that he's willing to do anything for love - even marry her without the hope of being with her.

[turbulentscrawl]

I just read the luca with a modern reader and it was so nice! Could we get a modern reader with Andrew?

heck yeah you can!

-Andrew is a tougher cookie to crack on this one because he acts like he super does not give a fuck. But, er, he acts like he doesn’t give a fuck about a lot of things. That’s kind of his go-to for new arrivals. He’ll do a bit of mocking maybe, but otherwise he just observes them, scowling, trying to judge their character from a distance.

-Your saving grace is how the other people in the manor will react to your arrival. Because, while there are some good eggs like Luca, there’s obviously going to be some extra distrust and apprehension around someone from a whole different era. You have very different educations, mindsets, opinions…things like that would get people labeled as a heretic or witch in most of these peoples’ times. If Andrew sees you being treated like you’ve already done something wrong just by existing, it endears him to you just a tiny bit. Just enough to give you an opening.

-Maybe someone says something to you at dinner—we all know Andrew’s sensitive to the word “monster”—or heaven forbid even breaks something that got brought along from home. Well, obviously you’d be upset. And Andrew can’t resist taking offense on your behalf. He’s not likely to do anything for you in the moment, but he makes a mental note. And the next time you see Andrew alone, even just passing each other in the hall, he’s…nice? Nice for Andrew’s standards, anyway.

-And after that he seems to curb with attitude with you more. It’s still a bit of a stretch to call him friendly, but it’s clear he’s making some effort towards correcting that. He stands by you more, sits near you at meals, close enough that he can hear you whenever you talk even if you’re quiet. He doesn’t say much himself, but the eye contact has to count for something! He’s listening, even if no one else is.

-After a bit, he takes some interest in your phone. It’s a really big leap in technology for him, so don’t expect much in the way of understanding from him. Teaching Andrew cellphone terminology is ten times worse than teaching your grandma how to send an email. But, uh, he thinks your magic rectangle is…nifty? Definitely not monster-ish at all.

-If you have media saved to your phone, 85% of the time he’s not a fan. He doesn’t understand modern humor at all, thinks animated shows look weird, and so much of our culture in general is overstimulating to him. Some of the music is alright, though. The calming stuff. Low-Fay? Is that it?? He thinks texting seems very handy, too, and would nose through old conversations with your friends and family if you gave him half a chance. Yes, it’s kind of an invasion of privacy, but it helps him feel a little more connected to you, to the life you had. If you ever express sadness at not being able to text anymore, he’ll take a page from Victor (baddumtss) and start slipping you written notes more often. That’s a little like texting, isn’t it? Wick is pretty fast on the delivery, too.

-He likes to use the flashlight on your phone and call Kreacher “obsolete” because fuck that guy.

-If you, for some reason, have light-up shoes…he’s lowkey enamored. Andrew is so used to getting around at night, digging those stupid tunnels despite being claustrophobic, and it’s such a hassle to have to carry a lantern and try to dig at the same time! …but your shoes have lights on them? Ingenious. Just, uh, maybe Luca can make them a little brighter?

-Yoga pants and skin-tight muscle shirts are the bane of his existence. It leaves nothing to the imagination. Are you doing this to him on purpose? Teasing him?? What do you mean that’s normal casual wear??? Put on a cloak!

[delikaitxx]

CHAPTER FIFTEEN IS LIVE! So sorry for the delay!

Chapter Fifteen: The Edge of Seventeen

TW: mentions of abandonment. Roxie witnessed her and Dustin’s dad leaving at a young age. Trauma. Angst.

The late afternoon to evening of March 22, 1986

I open the front door of my house being greeted by the news. It was coverage of Chrissy and Fred, no leads just yet. However, flashes of Eddie’s trailer don’t help. My anxiety peaks as my mother steps into my vision. “Hi darling, are you alright? How about Dustin?” I blink a few times trying to act normal. “He’s okay. He’s at Lucas’…” I begin to trail off as my eyes get stuck on the tributes for the Queen of Hawkins High and Fred flash on my living room TV.

“How was your night with Eddie? Any big plans for tomorrow night?” My face begins to feel cold as “ROXANNE” chimes and echoes through my head. I feel someone grab my hand. “Roxie, baby, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mom mimics Robin’s statement earlier. “You feel chilly. Honey, are you sure everything is alright?”

“Yeah… yeah. I’m alright.” I say crossing my arms around my body, playing with my rings in my fingers. “It was fun last night. He made me my own Hellfire Club shirt.” “Oh that’s sweet. He’s such a sweet boy and fits you perfectly. I love seeing you happy.” I smile at her sentiment. “I haven’t seen you smile this much since.. before….” She begins to trail off a bit as I put my stuff down. “Mom.” I rub her arm calmly. “I’m so sorry honey. I just…. It’s amazing to see you smiling again. It’s beautiful.” I smile. “I get it from you.” I smile at her and she smiles back.i give her a hug and she hugs me back.

As we embrace, I eye an white envelope with “Roxie Gracie”, my stomach immediately drops. I begin to feel the walls spin. “Was he here earlier?” I squeak. “No, he mailed it. I didn’t open it.” I roll my eyes and groan, throwing my hands up. “Why can’t he leave us alone? I mean, he left us…” I can feel the tears start to form. “Like, what the fuck does he want? Is it another stupid birthday card to his little ‘Roxie Gracie’? God I’m almost eighteen. I have a month left.”

I start growing more angry while the same news blares on the tv. “Rox, I know what happened still hurts you, but he’s still your father.” “Not since he left us mom. He couldn’t handle raising two fucking kids. He is such a coward. A grown man would’ve stayed. Walter is a fucking coward.” I share as the lights flicker a bit. “ROXANNE” roams again and the voice, though distorted, becomes clearer who it was. The coward.”

I shake it off. “I just can’t forgive him, mom. Not after he left, without saying goodbye. Not one care for us. No silly birthday card is going to change that.” “Roxie….” “Mom…” She hugs me tightly. And flashes of the night he left come rapidly. The scared ten year old girl. The careless cowardice man. “Daddy, please don’t go. Please.” He looks at me as if he didn’t hear me. “Daddy, please.” He’d bend down to kiss me on the cheek. “I’m doing this because I love you, Roxie Gracie.” He’d pick us his suitcase and then leave without saying a word.

Now, about to turn eighteen in a month, I growl at the memory. “It’s been almost eight years and I vowed to myself I would protect you and Dustin, something Dad couldn’t think of doing… I have to protect you guys… and Eddie…. Oh Eddie.” I feel chills thinking of my metal head. Thinking about what true happiness was. Being with him.

“You’re thinking of Eddie right now, aren’t you?” I nod trying to keep my worry in. “Yeah… I’m extremely worried about him.” “How so?” I look at her confused. “Have you been watching the news?” “I have, but I don’t believe Eddie is a killer. Some crook probably did it.” “Yeah, some crook named Vecna.” I think to myself.

“Thank you, mom.” I start, feeling uneasy but maybe it's nothing. “For what?” I hugged her again. “For understanding who Eddie truly is.” “Well, of course baby. That’s what mothers do. I even folded some clothes for you. They’re on your bed. Go pack some more and spend time with Eds.” She sounds a little too persuasive. “Thank you, mom.” I squeeze her tight. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She kisses my head and looks at me. “My beautiful ‘Roxie Gracie’.”

I stand up and grab my bag slowly as that runs through my head. Fear courses through my veins. “What did you just call me?” I look at her stunned with as much distance as I can. “My beautiful ‘Roxanne Grace’. Roxie, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Her face begins to morph in between Walter’s and hers as my fear grows more. “Yeah… I’m okay…” I go further into the hallway and enter my room, sliding my door shut. I smile lightly looking at the clothes, but also terrified of the imagery I keep seeing of Walter.

Why do I keep seeing him in everyone I see? Why now? Is it because of the lingering thoughts of him leaving? Wait, it’s been eight years since he left. That’s gotta be it. I dig for the walkie in my bag and call out for someone who could understand. “Nance, do you copy? It’s Roxie… I need your help.” I pleaded with her quietly, but there was no response. “Figures.” I scoff while I look at my clothes.

I see old scrapbooks of old photos I took in the past. Ones with Robin, the kids, Steve being a fucking idiot, the Hellfire Club and Nancy. I laugh at how ridiculous our Elf costumes were for our brothers. I spy Barb, looking ever so radiant. “I’m so sorry, Barb.” I say running my fingers along the Polaroid, when I hear the lock of my door activate. “MOM?” I panic as the atmosphere grows dark. I clutch the walkie as I go up to the door and begin to try to pry it open. “MOM!” I bang on it. “Why did you lock me in?” “I’m only protecting you, much like you’re protecting me!” “EDDIE DIDN’T MURDER ANYONE!” I yell. “Sorry, darling. I can’t let you out.” The atmosphere grows darker as I bang on it and continue my efforts. Her sweet, nurturing voice was replaced by a dark, ominous one. “Nancy….” I squeak quietly….. “Help…..”

[taeilskitty]

Hey there! I saw that you open for a request so here's what I thought : what kind of sound did nct make when having sex? Are they more into whimpers, groans, or maybe dirty talk? Thank you so much for answering my question and hope you have a good day!

i was BORN to answer this omg. lemme tell you, i have thought about this so SO much!! (i'm leaving chenji out of this bc i don't know how people feel about that yet)

anyways, i hope u enjoy and i hope this matches what you had in mind <3

taeil

oh fuck. taeil is most certainly a groaner. i think (and trust me, i've thought a lot) he must make these gorgeous low moans like right in the back of his throat if that makes sense - have you ever heard his bubble voice messages? oh my god, they're so fucking hot. his raspy voice in the middle of the night is just to die for. that makes me CONVINCED that he dirty talks super up close. even thinking about it makes me shiver :(( he's the king of praise, i just know it. i think he degrades too, but his favourite is when he mixes both together - "you look so pathetic there baby, how cute." "daddy loves his pretty slut so much." "god you're so fucking good for me, my cockslut~" taeil also asks things, i think that suits him so much. "yeah? you like that?" "is daddy's cock too big baby? shh, i'll be done soon..."

taeyong

whiner. whiner. undoubtedly. this boy has the sweetest, prettiest little moans... he gets all high pitched when he's close and oh god when he sinks into subspace he just mewls and his voice gets so weak </3 little "yes" and "a-ah thank you"s slip out because he such a good kitten. he's so precious... and if he gets asked to speak while he's getting fucked he just squeaks out an answer. "m.. love it... ah..." n he will never fail to say his please and thank yous - he's so well mannered even when hes getting used !!!

johnny

this is just. oh my. i think he's silent for the most part. heavy breathing and quiet grunts and groans until he's close. THAT'S when he starts moaning, all sorts of things slipping out. "god you're so good" "i love this hole so much" ahh??! i think he talks down too. fuck !!! daddy!johnny is so patronising, and not just outside of the bedroom. kinda like taeil, he asks things, but he makes u feel so dumb and cock drunk :( AH AND he like... coos when you feel all dazed from his cock... "awh~ is that good? you like that don't you sweetheart? yeah, i know."

yuta

i have this vision of yuta just SLAMMING from behind with his face right up in your ear, telling you all sorts of dirty things lowly with just the hottest voice ever. he's very vocal about what he wants, and he loves cumming inside... so expect him to talk about that. oh, he is so fucking possessive too. "hmm. mine. this is mine. you're mine." he probably bites your ear/neck when he says it... the grunts that come out when he slams are enough to send anyone reeling, but i bet he tells you "fuck. gonna. gonna cum in my fuckdoll--" n his voice just trails off as he fills you up and sighs<33

kun

now kun is !! an interesting one !! ... i envision him as a pretty hard dom, so i don't think he's any stranger to degrading. that being said, i think he's more talkative when he's giving punishments (e.g. spanking over his thigh... heaven<33) rather than when he's fucking. i think he moans lowly, semi-quietly but as he gets more and more pent up he gets louder. (i think this is the case for most of the nct doms but oh well) he'll praise how good you make him feel - assuming you've been behaved enough - but that doesn't stop him from cursing under his breath at every chance he gets ,,..

doyoung

definitely has pretty moans !! he probably does whine, but i mean that in a dom way - if that makes sense? higher pitched moans but not pathetic, in fact it's probably paired with him whispering "fuck yes, good [insert ur fave petname here]". i think he's the type to kiss you a lot during sex and like... moan into your mouth; any space not taken up by the sound of moans will for sure be filled with the sound of his panting and his tongue dancing with yours.

ten

another semi-whiner. i always saw him as a dom but i'm sliiightly succumbing to the idea that he may be a switch... which is why i think there's so much BEAUTY in his moans?? ten makes really pretty, breathy whines and moans i'm sure, i don't particularly think he talks a crazy amount but rather short instructions. (yes i'm going back to dom!ten) "turn around." "get on your knees" "quiet." AH !! he always lets you know what he needs - however, sub!ten will just whine and squirm till you make him cum because he is most definitely a slut who takes anything:(

jaehyun

first of all, this man wrecks me to the fucking core, and i could talk about this for... a while. but his moans are definitely like, raspy high-pitched type. think about his vocals. esp in try again... i bet you they sound like THAT. i'm sure he talks a bit too, tbh he probably says rather textbook dirty things but it sounds so fucking hot when it's him. "yeah take it, take my cock" "fuck yes just like that", he loves how you whine when he moans right up next to you btw - it just makes him do it even more. oh, and bonus - he will never call you ANYTHING without prefixing it with my or daddy's. daddy's girl, daddy's boy, daddy's pet, my dirty slut... ahh<3

winwin

it's almost contrasting to jaehyun but sicheng's voice is so low. i can't explain this in any way other than that he's kitty, but his moans are so... puppy? and when he's fucked, he makes himself sound so dumb too. he's constantly slurring his words and biting his lip because he's trying to keep quiet but anyone who walks by the room will hear "mm.. m!!" because he just can't help himself :( when he's close he probably squeaks like taeyong and cums all over the place GOD i want him

jungwoo

oh god there's no doubt that jungwoo talks SO much during sex. he probably loses his fucking mind with how good he feels. he's such a good boy but sometimes you just need him to shut up - but he can't. he squeaks out a little moan when you push into him, or when you start touching his cock, but withn minutes he's babbling non-stop; "oh god oh god mommy/daddy i love it so much, a-ah like that, please~"

lucas

my brain used to be convinced that xuxi was a dom, but i'm now sure he's a switch. either way, his moans are pretty much the same. they're very heavy and... i guess manly is the best way to put it. in my head i can literally picture him being like "ughhh..." when you start fucking because he just feels like he's wanted to fuck you so desperately - yes, even if you fucked hours before. it's always so breathy and moany and i think he sounds like a bit of a fuckboy tbh... "fuck yeah" as he slides his cock into you? THANKS

mark

loud baby loud baby LOUD BABY:((( no matter how much you cover that pretty mouth of his he will be so LOUD!! he can't stop talking and whining and panting, kinda like jungwoo but honestly... more. he swears a lot too. he tries not to but he just can't help himself :( "aw shit... god shit!!!" under his breath UGHHFDGGDFDD SO FUCKING CUTE IM GONNA SCREAM !!! he's very polite though, so he always says sorry every single time :( he babbles like hell when he cums, he can't stop himself, again like jungwoo. "i'm gonna cum i'mgonnacumi- i'm -- ah fuck, shit--!!"

xiaojun

two words. action figure. everyone knew that was coming, HA - i'm sorry but THAT verse means we all know how he sounds. i think he tries his best to talk normally while you edge him but his little voice keeps on wavering and cracking and just... he can't help but sound all pretty and pathetic :( but surely dejun has some (very frequent) moments where he can't keep his front anymore and just whines like a whore because it feels so good<3

hendery

the things i'd let this man do to me:))) i think at first he'd actually try and hide his moans because he feels like that's what he's supposed to do, but no. for me personally, i know i would NOT LET THAT HAPPEN !! he probably sucks the air in through his teeth in an attempt to hide it - it's very fucking sexy when he does that, granted - but he can't keep doing that for long. i think he hums and laughs when he can't keep it in any longer because he almost feels some kinda defeat but then he just moans semi-loudly and lets out a "good girl/boy/baby... let me fuck you, huh?"

renjun

renjun scares the fuck out of me. why? because his moans are fairly quiet. he's master and it S H O W S. he grunts quietly, maybe muttering things under his breath like "so fucking tight" "mmh there you go..." to fill some silence but he does it subconsciously; he goes so far into domspace sometimes that he just can't control himself. when he's close he talks through his teeth and he's like "i'm. i'm gonna cum baby..."and the more you whine on his cock the more he just laughs at you because he's a sadist hhhhhhhhhhh.........

jeno

most definitely a fun one... you see when he's sub, he pants and whines and drools all over himself like a big dumb puppy boy and he just breathes so heavy n his moans are all shaky... if he's a brat he will try and talk big but he can't take it, he just gets so pathetic and !!! but dom jeno is fucking TERRIFYING because he talks down and tries his best to intimidate you. he chuckles and degrades you, but one of his faves is when he can big himself up under his breath. "look at you now. you love this fucking cock."

haechan

this isn't good for my mental health :) i fucking cannot TAKE this brat :) AHA! hyuckie is honestly such a whore, he's bratty and rude and always talks back at you like he's the king of the fucking world. he's constantly laughing at you and trying so hard to make you feel like you're not worthy but he feels so good he just gets fucked dumb by you :( he is SO loud too. he wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore he is and he makes sure he puts on his prettiest pornstar moans. he whines like his life depends on it. on the off chance that he's being a good boy, he begs and cries and whimpers when he finally cums - and i mean CRIES. sobs. he'll be heaving by the time you're done with him, but god he fucking loves it.

jaemin

fuck... fuck okay... well firstly he loves to talk. we all know how much he praises and how he's constantly showing his love off... that doesn't stop at fanservice, nope. he will fuck you like a ragdoll and keep calm and composed as ever, talking down to you as if you're in his lap for a soft cuddle. "baby loves nana so much hm~?" "oh you really love that don't you?" "you know you're so pretty. nana wants to cum in you so bad~" yes, he calls himself nana because he's a cocky fuck and loves how it sounds. especially when you're moaning it for him.

yangyang

i'm kinda in 2 minds about this... on the one hand, he's kinda like hyuckie in that he whines a LOT. but he can actually keep his composure - he's a breathy whiner, he's not quite as loud and he most certainy doesn't crumble as easily. (that's not to say that he can't, he most definitely can.) on the other hand i think when he's in a more neutral headspace rather than subby, he talks to you like a total fuckboy. not in a mean way but he's just like "hah. i know you love me fucking you like this." he gets so cocky and he sucks hickeys into your neck and hums quietly<3

shotaro

he's such a shy baby :( he wants to moan so much but he probably gets all self conscious and tries to hide it... so you gotta make him feel safe :( when he does he whimpers and it's so pretty and pathetic. the way he wells up with tears and hitches his breath is. adorable. he whispers "thank you... ah..." every time he feels that good and by the time he cums it's just falling from him like a waterfall :( the more comfortable he feels, though, the sluttier he can get... he will always be a good boy but i think he lets his whore side come out every once in a while <3

sungchan

last but most certainly not least, yet ANOTHER boy who pains me to the core. i think sungchan whimpers too. THERE I SAID IT. his cock is too big for his own good so he just... needs you to do SOMETHING to him :( he always sighs at first, maybe hissing just a little but then he gets to a point where he's quietly whimpering because he just needs to cum so fucking bad <//3 "need it... p-please..." he's always nervous to use titles but if he wants to cum he has no choice :( when his dom asks please who? he blushes bright red n mumbles a little "please mommy/daddy... 'm so good..." and god yes he is he deserves it so much ugh<33333333333333

[elkdiaries]

every day i wake up and think about byler at the snowball. 

imagine just how many jitters will had before he arrived, fidgeting with his dress shirt over and over because maybe today’s the day. maybe today he’ll actually find a boy who’s like him, and the two can live out a little nice dream of will’s that he’s kept locked up in the back of his mind for ages. he and the boy could sit together on the bleachers while everyone slow danced, and when they met eyes, he’d offer will his hand under the bench they were sitting on. they’d stay like that, warm in each other’s company, until the next fast song played and they could blend in with the friends who all spun each other like it wasn’t a big deal.

for once, maybe he’d feel normal.

he gets there, hands all knit together to calm his nerves, only relaxing after he comes across lucas and mike. seeing them is like a breath of fresh air. they both regard him kindly, with lucas whistling and chatting him up while they stand around.

but mike. oh, he can’t help but notice the way his tie is all messy because he’d never been attentive during his fathers’ boring instructional lectures on how to tie them properly. will’s gaze flits about mike’s brown blazer and the way he adjusts the cuffs every five seconds because they’re a bit too short for his lengthy arms. his hair is curlier than it had been only a month or two ago.

it’s hard to look away.

dustin and max show up, both stealing the show in unexpected ways with their untraditional outfits and big hair. as the three gabble over each other, unintentionally omitting mike and will from the conversation, mike leans his elbow against will’s as he always does. it’s natural, normal at this point, yet still draws up a tiny thrill in will that takes a moment to shake. 

and then mike says softly, almost as if to no one at all, “you look pretty.”

“me?” will responds after a moment.

and he looks up for confirmation, but mike’s already gazing. 

“yes, you.”

with that comment on his conscience, will’s floating around for a good ten minutes. his legs are no more than clouds, being pushed to and fro based on the direction of the party. mike’s compliments, no matter what they are, end up in a special corner of will’s brain— typically unreachable, but unnervingly passionate when they arise once again. the wishes, the dreams he was clutching onto back at home are bountiful as ever once the first slow dance gets fired up, and couples drag each other onto the gymnasium floor like they’ve been doing this for years.

a girl approaches their cluster. he glances over at dustin, figuring that his nest of hair must’ve worked as a beacon in attracting dance candidates, but instead he hears something else.

“hey zombie boy, do you wanna dance?”

his stomach sinks. not just at the nickname, but the fact that this ruins everything. impulsively, he looks at mike with the hope he’ll be kept in the circle, the excuse “he’s just not feeling up to it today” giving him some time to fulfill his real wishes. 

it’s not like dancing with a girl will kill him. but as he’s ushered forward by his closest friends into a sea of boy-girl pairs, will begins to think that he’s never felt more alone.

they dance and it’s normal and he tries not to damage her shiny peach shoes, but the smile he’s plastered on his face is beginning to slip as well as his memory of how to dance like a normal person. instinctually, he looks to the bleachers and hidden by an array of paper streamers is not a boy waiting for his company, but nobody at all.

he tells himself with a clot in his throat that he should never have wished.

mike enters his vision once again, not as dejected as he looked after will left the group. he’s out on the dance floor, grin as wide as can be with a girl clinging onto his shoulders. it’s eleven. and god she looks stunning, with sparkly eye makeup and a nice blue dress, and mike is so clearly in love with her that it makes will yearn for a time when mike looked at him that way. when he looked at will and gave a compliment or a laugh or a nudge to the hands, hair, shoulder.  when he looked at will like he brought the sun into the sky and made oceans move. had it ever actually happened? had mike treated him as he did el, with a manner that expressed nothing but soft, real love?  

will doesn’t know, not anymore. 

it is then that will realizes that it’s been mike all along. mike who he wants to sit in the bleachers with, fingers laced together. mike who he wants an arm of comfort from to wrap him up and keep him protected after everything’s gone to shit. mike who he loves. mike who he’s lost.

mike who promised to go crazy with him, but who left just as quickly as he came.

to retain a smile, will repeats to himself, it was all just a dream.