#will is shook to his very core to hear jonathan say some of the stuff he says

[kennahjune]

I’m a firm platonic stonathan believer (and romantic but that’s not what this post is about).

And I love Steve and Jonathan being really friendly albeit awkward with each other.

But you know what I absolutely LOVE?

Stonathan who can’t STAND each other.

But would also go to fucking war for each other.

Some asshole is being a prick to Jonathan in school? The dudes suddenly thrown off of every sports team he’s on and the principal is fully aware of every time he cheated on a test. Steve just so happens to be at the high school that day to pick up the kids.

There’s some dickwad giving Steve a hard time at work every day? The guys windshield is busted in and car’s been keyed. Jonathan was totally just stopping by Family Video for a movie at the same time.

It’s just so funny to me. The idea of them both putting on this kind of mask around the whole group where everyone thinks they’re at least friendly with each other— the awkwardness is a given, honestly.

But then when it’s just them— getting high together or smth idk— they trade insults that would have anyone else in a ball crying.

And then them both slowly coming out of their shells around the whole group.

And the first time it happens Steve had called Jonathan a home wrecker and in turn Jonathan called Steve a whore.

Everyone was flipping shit trying to make them both apologize to each other before another fight broke out. But Jonathan and Steve sat and laughed at them.

Nobody ever gets used to their bitter teasing towards each other (nobody’s ever heard Jonathan use such foul language) but they learn to accept that that’s just how they are with each other.

This is kinda like a begrudging sibling-bonded stonathan.

This is also how I imagine madwheeler being btw. But I’ll make them their own post eventually.

[yikesharringrove]

Changing the theme a bit, since I saw you dont hate Jonathan thank goddd, maybe Jonathan having to ask Steve and Billy for tips because he's aro or ace? Or something he knows Lonnie wouldve actually killed him for, which Billy gets and Steve is fully willing to help soft Jonathon be a THING and they are just his gay mentors and mayhaps. Nancy just doesnt get it and it gets messy and Will just stands up for his brother in full anger and slams the door in her face and hugs jon so tight he falls

Steve is sex-positive ace, Billy is sex-repulsed, and Jon is greyace bc I’ve gotten so many messages about how many people were affected positively by showing ace diversity in that one drabble I wrote, so we’re keeping this goin’ because you’re ALL VALID. 😤

-

Jonathan had been crashing on their couch for a week and a half and has yet to say anything about the situation more than Nancy and I had a fight.

Billy and Steve didn’t know what the fuck to do about it. Jonathan was obviously fucking heartbroken over whatever the fight had been about, but they didn’t wanna pry.

“Thank you guys for taking me in. I’m sorry, I’ve probably been cramping your style.” Steve just shook his head, serving three plates of eggs and toast.

“There’s not a lot of style going on in this apartment for you to cramp.” Steve smiled at him as he placed the plates on the table. Jonathan gave him an odd look.

“What do you, what do you mean?”

“We don’t really fuck.” Billy was always the blunt one. Jonathan’s fork clattered to the table.

“You don’t, why not?”

“Neither of us are really into it.” Jonathan looked like he could fucking cry.

“Me neither. That’s what the fight was. Nancy kept asking why we don’t have sex, and if I stopped loving her, and I do! I love her so much, but I just, sometimes I feel that way about her, but I usually don’t, and I’m so fucking confused.” Steve reached out, placing a firm hand on Jonathan’s arm.

“Jon, it’s okay. I mean, I don’t think we’ve had sex in like, a year?” Billy nodded.

“It was before we actually talked about how we both felt about it.”

“And is that-” Jonathan trailed off, but they got it. Is that like me.

“I don’t mind sex. If I’m with someone who wants to have it, I can be cool with that, but I don’t always get off, and it’s more about making the other person feel good, or using it as another way to be like, intimate. But I don’t really think about it, and I can definitely go without.”

“I actively don’t like fucking. I kinda think sex is, is fucking gross. I mean, you do you and all that, but like, every time I had sex it just, it made me feel gross.” He pulled a face.

“I just, I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel for her, honestly.” Jonathan ran a hand down his face. “Sometimes, sometimes it just feels like a fucking chore. And she just, she kinda confronted me about it, and I probably could’ve worded it better, but she got so angry, and hurt, and we just, we decided to take some time apart.” He pushed the eggs around his plate. “And there are some situations that I just, I want it with her so badly, but most, most of the time I just, I just want to be with her, like just spend time with her. And she, she’s never been very good at being sensitive about things, or, or, sympathetic, and she just, she made me feel fucking broken. Like there was something wrong with me.”

“First of all, fuck her for making you feel like that.” Billy had one eyebrow raised.

“Bill-”

“No. Jonathan, you are not broken, and it sucks she made you feel that way. If she can’t be in a relationship that respects your boundaries, then she is not the one.”

Steve sighed.

“Jon, Bill’s right. A relationship should be safe. She should be more mindful of your boundaries and feelings, and should not be making you feel bad for those things. I’m not saying you should like, dump her-”

“I am.” Steve batted a hand at Billy.

“-but, if you have an open conversation with her, and nothing changes, then you are always welcome here.” Steve squeezed his arm again.

-

The talk with Nancy had been bad.

She had taken everything really personally, said that Jonathan needed to sort out his priorities and to let her know when he’s attracted to her again.

And he tried, he tried so hard to explain the way he felt, that it all comes and goes like the fucking tide, but she had put her foot down.

So he showed up back to Billy and Steve’s apartment with two more suitcases and tears in his eyes.

“I just, I know I can fake it when I need to, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“Because forcing yourself to do shit like that sucks. Fuck Nancy for being a bitch. Figure yourself out, and then find someone who respects your boundaries.”

Billy was pacing in front of the sofa, talking sharply, pointing at Jonathan a lot. Steve had one arm over his shoulders.

“You deserve respect, Jon. And you deserve to feel safe and happy in a relationship.”.

-

He couldn’t sleep that first night.

The fight was circling in his head, over and over and over and over-

He heard the bedroom door open, and someone creep out through the living room and into the kitchen.

He looked over the back of the couch, saw a bleary eyed Steve filling a glass of water for himself, wearing one of Billy’s faded band shirts, and a pair of panties.

Jonathan laid back down before Steve could see him looking.

-

The next morning, he found himself staring at Steve.

He had put shorts on, and even a chunky cardigan while he made breakfast, but Jonathan knew.

“Can I, can I talk to you about something?” Steve smiled brightly at him. “I, um, I noticed you coming out here last night.” Steve just nodded, a look of recognition in his eyes.

“You wondering about panties?”

“Um, yeah.” Steve shrugged. “I just like ‘em. And it’s not like, a sexual thing. Sometimes they make me feel sexy, but that’s not what it’s about. I just like them. Have a lot of women’s thing.”

“What about them do you like?” Steve shrugged again.

“It’s hard to describe. I’ve never felt like, super masculine. Like, big macho tough guy, I wanna hunt and never talk about my feelings.” Steve put on a stupid-sounding deep voice for his macho man. “And I mean, not all men are like that, but that’s kind of how you’re expected to be. And women are expected to be pretty and delicate, and I’ve always related to that more. Women’s clothes help me feel that way.”

“I’ve, um, I’ve always felt that too. Not necessarily the kinda, pretty and delicate part, but the, not feeling connected to masculinity and like, what’s expected from you.” Steve set down a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Jonathan, putting one down for himself as well, and one in Billy’s empty space.

“Hold that thought, I’m gonna grab Billy. He doesn’t like it when I yell for him.” Steve patted him on the arm, and was gone for a few minutes before he returned with Billy in tow.  “Okay, Jonathan. Please continue.”

“Well, not much to say. I feel like my dad kinda always shoved that like, macho man shit on me. Would take me hunting and stuff and I just never liked it.”

“Jesus, mine did that shit too. Not with hunting, but he was all about men having their place, and women having their place.” Billy took an aggressive bite of his bacon.

“Mine was too! I got sad once when I shot a rabbit, and he called me a pussy for like, a week.”

“When my dad was layin’ into me, if he ever saw my cry, it would just get that much worse.” They were nodding at one another, trading shitty dad stories back and forth. “He would like, get mad if I helped my mom cook and shit, too.”

“God, it’s like we had the fuckin’ same dad.” Billy raised his mug at Jonathan. “It’s hard to break outta that shit, even though he’s not in your life, anymore.”

“I think so, too. I haven;t seen him in years, but every time I do something he would’ve thought was too soft, I can still hear him in my head. And you know, that’s one of the things I like about Nancy. She’s really hard, and tough, and never expected me to be that way.” And he knows that in the end, Nancy was bad news for him, not being able to love and accept him, but that aspect of their relationship was so nice, so easy.

“There doesn’t always have to be both. I mean, Steve’s more outwardly soft, but we’re both real mushy at our cores. There doesn’t have to be a big tough one and a sweet soft one. Sometimes you have elements of both and you make it work.”

“You just have to find the balance within yourself, I think. And learn to embrace the parts of you that are soft and the parts that are hard.” Jonathan was nodding vigorously at Steve. “And it’s always different. I love getting to feel soft and pretty in a dress or something, whereas Billy finds ways to be soft by taking care of things, like me and all the plants.”

“Do you think, do you think you could help me? Find that, I mean.”

“Of course! Just think of the things you already feel, things that feel right when you do them, and that’s a good starting point. And maybe that’s your photography, and maybe it’s something else.”

So they let Jonathan experiment with things to find his softness.

He would help Billy tend to the fucking garden they had on the balcony, or bake with Steve. He took a million pictures, and Steve was thriving under the camera, would put on make up and something pretty and pose around the apartment.

It was just nice.

Getting to live with these two, and train himself not to be ashamed, it was nice.

Will would come and visit quite often, and he and Jonathan spent a wonderful Saturday evening coming out to each other, and validating the ever loving shit out of one another.

Billy and Steve came home to the two brothers hugging one another on the couch and trying to hold back tears.

Steve had inserted himself into the hug while Billy patted each one of them on the head and started making dinner.

But he figured of course this would happen.

His perfect little cocoon would crumble apart at some point.

Will had come over, and Steve and Billy had gone out to dinner together, leaving the two of them to order pizza and have a movie night.

It was great, hanging out with his brother like when they were little, not a fucking care in the world.

There was a knock at the door.

“Jon, it’s me. It’s Nancy. Can we talk” Jonathan’s heart stuttered to a halt in his chest.

Will was staring at the door like maybe he could set it on fire if he glared hard enough.

Jonathan sighed, opening the door to face his fate.

“Are you seriously still mad at me?”

“Yes.” She huffed.

“C’mon. Come back home.”

“Nancy, I can’t. Not if you’re not going to respect me.”

“We were fine. I don’t know why we can’t just go back to the way we were-”

“Because I was forcing myself to do things I was uncomfortable with just to make you happy.”

“Relationships are compromise, Jonathan.”

“I know that, but when I brought up to you what wasn’t working, you refused to listen. I was the only one forfeiting my boundaries and comfort in that relationship, and I deserve more.” She rolled her eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Jonathan, this is-” Will was shoving Jonathan back, stepping between the two.

“Nancy, he’s done talking to you about this. Unless you can respect that he doesn’t always feel that way, then move the fuck on.” He slammed the door right in her face. “You don’t need her.”

Jonathan was gobsmacked. Will had never spoken to anyone like that, at least not that Jonathan’s every seen.

“Why did you...?” He trailed off, still staring at the door.

“She was pissing me off. You’re right. You compromised everything in that relationship and she couldn’t even give you the bare minimum.”

Jonathan swept Will up, hugging him as tight as he possibly could.

“Thank you.”

“You deserve better than her.”

“Yeah, I do.”

[trash-writes-stuff]

Metathesiophobia (Scriddler)

Gotham has seen its fair share of chaos in the past years, but nothing could prepare them for the trouble that started brewing when two certain rogues met under the not-so-loving roof of Arkham Asylum.

Chapter Three:

So When You See Me Come Up for Air Don't Try to Hold Me Down

(Warning for panic attacks)

Jon was slowly coming to regret ever offering Edward to sit with Harley and him. Day after day, Edward came back to sit with them. Day after damned day, this ridiculous, annoyingly clever man was getting further and further under his skin. Jon just couldn’t take it, because it wasn’t the near-constant bickering that bothered him, it wasn’t even how much Edward spoke. It was the very fact that those things, which would have usually made him gas or emotionally traumatize the person, now for some reason didn’t bother him at all. It was how much he enjoyed the gingers company that did the trick.

It also didn’t help that Edward had decided to join their little ‘Girl Talk’, which had been a strictly Jon and Harley thing until Nygma showed up. What was worse, Jonathan actually liked having Edward around. He was full of gossip about everyone and anyone, which was useful because even though Jon wasn’t very keen on blackmailing, it could come in handy.

From the fact that Jonathan was growing fond of Edward arose another problem. Jonathan was an introvert; he was famed for it. So, it was natural that after some time he would lose the energy he needs to socialize and turn plain miserable. It was at times like those he needed some alone time, some time to recharge and think stuff through. Harley recognized when he got like this and gave him space. Edward, however, seemed to lack the phrase ‘personal space’ in his vocabulary, and wouldn’t step off. It was almost as if the lack of Harley’s presence didn’t strike him as odd, even though Harley was always seen by ether Ivy’s or Jonathan’s side. Hell, he probably thought that Harley just wanted to spend more time with her girlfriend, but even when times like that did come, she talked to the ex-professor at least once a day.

Jon could not, for the life of him, find the strength to tell Edward to fuck off for a while, nor could he tell Eddie what was really happening. Usually, he would offend the person and throw gritty insults at them until they left, but he just didn’t have the strength to do it today. However, he would have to something as he was coming far too close to slipping into the Scarecrow persona. That would be unpleasant, for both him and everyone around him, and it would give the doctors just enough of an excuse to give him more pills to drink.

He hated the meds he was on. They made him feel so weak, so easily irritable at times, and the ones they added when Jon fell into the comfort of the Scarecrow made him have constant headaches and his whole body felt so heavy, he could barely move.

Scarecrow was a defense mechanism, one that the Arkham doctors wanted to destroy with drugs and therapy. You can’t destroy things like that, Jon wanted to protest, they are part of a person’s psyche and will never truly leave. But who would listen to an ex-professor with an invalid Ph.D. in psychology? Not the Arkham staff, he could tell you that much.

Jonathan had zoned out a while ago, as he was in no mood to listen to whatever the hell Edward was rambling on about. He was just so tired of talking, of listening others talk, and maybe if he ignored Edward for a while the man would get the hint. Jon could have stood up and left, but he would ultimately be unable to escape Edward as they were in the rec room, and him going anywhere would result in a whole lecture from Edward on how it was impolite to just leave whilst someone is talking to them. So, he just had to sit here for the next 15 minutes and tolerate the endless talking. So be it.

“-nd I mean it’s such a pointless…” Edward stopped talking for a second, turning his head to look at Jon who was currently curled up on the other end of the couch, looking somewhere in the distance. The sudden pause caused Jonathan to snap back to reality, as he turned to look back at Edward. “Jonathan, are you even listening to me?” Questioned the ginger in an annoyed tone. Jon looked at him blankly, his eyes dull.

He couldn’t even hear Edward properly at this point, so he just tried reading his lips. Looking at them, Jon realized how girly Edwards lips were. They were plump, the top lip being a little smaller than the bottom one, his cupid's bow was symmetrical and sharp. And if one looked hard enough, they would see the nasty-looking scar that the stitches left on and above his upper lip. They looked so soft too, he must have used chapstick. God, how perfect could a man get? Jon’s head was spinning at this point. Loud yelling snapped him out of his thoughts. It took a moment to recognize what the voice was saying and who the owner was.

“-athan! Jonathan! Earth to Jonathan! Do you copy?!” Edward was yelling at this point, waving his arms around his head, trying to signal the auburn-haired man in any way. Jon shook his head, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. God, he needed peace. He needed to be alone.

“Alright punks, rec time is over. Get moving.” One of the guards yelled. Jonathan thanked whatever spirit was out there, quickly stood up and rushed off to be taken back to his cell. Edward yelled after him, but Jon couldn’t even hear him. He needed to get out of there, he needed to get away and he needed to be alone. He was going to have a panic attack if everyone didn’t shut up immediately.

He was led back to his cell, and the rough treatment he always received from the guard only making the anxiety in his chest expand. His whole chest area felt so tight, and he felt like throwing up. He was going to snap the guard’s neck; he was going to whisper the most horrific things known to man into the fucker’s ear until he was nothing but a pathetic screaming mess on the floor. He was going to open him up and-

He was left alone in his cell. But the cell was loud too, each breath bouncing off the walls, the shadows beckoning for him to join them. The walls were so thin, he could hear everyone, god he could hear them, and he was going to tear his ears off if the noise didn’t stop. He would tear his eyes out if it meant that he wouldn’t have to see anything but the darkness at that moment.

They were screaming, the damn walls were screaming at him and he couldn’t do anything but curl up in the corner opposite of the bed and sit there praying for it to end.

It was these nights the screaming bothered him. When he wished for nothing but silence, the screams seemed to get louder, when he wanted nothing more than them to stop, they just louder and louder and-

His breathing was heavy, the air was heavy, his whole body was heavy and whether he realized it or not he was shaking. He was shaking hard. He wasn’t cold, he wasn’t warm either, he was just so numb, and his head was ringing, and he couldn’t even lay down on the pathetic excuse for a bed. He just sat on the floor in the corner of his cell, shaking and panting in the darkness of the room.

God, he could hear the crows, the crows, the damn crows. They were so loud; they were always screaming. He was in the chapel again; how was he back there again!? He killed the old woman years ago, yet he could still hear her singing ‘Amazing Grace’ just outside the door. The crows would get him again; they would come again; they would hurt him again. The chapel was so big but there wasn’t anywhere to run; they would smell him, and they would find him, and they would tear him to pieces until they reached his bones, until there wasn’t anything left but bones. Oh, the bones he could feel the bones of her hands on his leg; on his shoulder; on his head. On his throat. He was choking; he couldn’t breathe.

Sinful child, you thought I wouldn’t find you.

He wanted to scream but his throat gave up on him, all sound lost before it could leave him; he couldn’t scream, he couldn’t cry out for help. There was no help, no savior. The tune of ‘Amazing Grace’ was screaming in his ears. His eyes were watering, threatening to spill tears. He just wanted to be alone. He just wanted to be alone. He just wanted for it all to stop and he wanted to be alone.

He tried screaming again, tried to drown out the noise in his head with the one in the air but he couldn’t. He stayed as quiet as a mouse, so quiet that an occasional sniff, a shudder or a particularly deep breath were the only signs that he was even breathing.

Why couldn’t the crows just leave him alone?

God, just let him be alone.

-

He didn’t remember when or how he had passed out, but the only things he was currently aware of were his puffed eyes and wet cheeks. He wished he’d stayed awake. The night terror shook him to the core. His skin felt so itchy, the old scars on his back and arms were burning again, he felt like tearing his hair out.

At least the noise had stopped. There was finally silence. He crawled over to his bed. He passed out again.

-

Edward was confused. Had he said something wrong? He knew that his talking could get annoying, but Jonathan never minded it up until now. Hell, Jon always listened to him, sometimes he made his own comments, but he always listened like there was nothing more important.

Eddie had noticed that Jonathan was distant, more so than usual. In the past month, Jonathan had never looked so lost, never looked so blank. There was always something dancing behind his eyes. Now there was strangely nothing.

Edward slammed his head into the pillow with an exasperated sigh. He couldn’t sleep. He needed to know. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he did. The self-proclaimed ‘Master of Fear’ was really making his anxiety rise. The ginger stood up and made the decision to find out what was happening, and tonight.

-

Slipping out of the cells was easy enough, almost too easy actually. Navigating the halls of Arkham was also child’s play, given the fact that Edward memorized the entire building layout. Avoiding guards wasn’t too hard, because they were all asleep at this point and Edward had learned to sneak at an early age because-

He shook his head. Focus Edward, focus. He reached Crane’s cell, carefully opening the door, only to find the man with his face in the pillow, one leg dangling off. Why did he think this was a good idea again? It was the middle of the god damned night and he expected Jonathan to be awake? Sure, the man was an insomniac, but even this was too much. He was going back to his room.

Before he could turn tail and leave, however, he heard someone make a sound, unlike a whimper. Edward froze, not daring to move. After a few moments passed, he turned around to face Jon again.

That couldn’t have been him, right?

Oh, now he HAD to know. He waited for a few moments, and Edward saw Jon let out something like a pained whine. Crane’s whole body shook as the sound left his throat, and after a few more panicked sounds left the man’s lips, Edward realized exactly what was going on.

He didn’t think this through enough, but here he was, shaking Jonathan Crane, the man who had purposely run away from him a few hours ago, awake from a nightmare. It didn’t take much shaking really; Jon was a light sleeper. The auburn-haired man shot up from the bed with a loud gasp, blinking rapidly. Edward tried to put a hand on Jon’s shoulder as an attempt to comfort the shaking man in front of him, but Jon just jumped and cowered away from the touch.

Jonathan finally raised his head, thinking that he was going through another panic attack when he saw a pair of familiar green eyes. Edward’s whole face was soon visible to Jon, and his first response was to yell. Eddie predicted that Crane would yell, so he put his hand over the trembling man’s mouth, pushing his skeletal frame up against the wall for leverage purposes. He couldn’t afford Jon giving away his presence, he would get tied up and sent back to solitary before he could say ‘Riddle me this’.

Crane struggled against Nygma’s hand, and when he finally got it off his face, he smacked Edward right across the face.

“Nygma what the absolute fuck are ya doin’ in ‘ere!?” Jon whisper-yelled in the most honest southern accent Edward had ever heard. It made Edward’s chest flutter with something, but he was quick to brush it off because he had a feeling that if he didn’t answer Crane’s question now the man would pounce on him and skin him alive. Either that, or he’d force Edward to relive his-

“Looking for answers, and before you point out the obvious, I know that yes, it is currently some ungodly hour of the morning. But I really need to talk to you right now.” Edward spoke calmly. God, Jon was going to brutally murder this man one day, he had no idea. Jon did owe Edward for waking him up.

“As long as it has nothin’ to do with what my nightmare was, go right ahead.” Oh, how Edward wanted to pry into what haunted the ‘Prince of Panic’. But not now. Now he wanted to know what made Jonathan run off like demons were chasing him.

-

“All ya need ta know is that me runnin off was nothin’ personal.” Edward stared at Jon for a good moment or two, before burying his face into Jon’s pillow to stifle his laughter. Jon’s eyes widened, partly out of shock, and partly because Edward’s real laugh was the most angelic sound he had ever heard. His face was buried in the pillow for about a minute, and then he looked at Jon with the most honest and sympathetic smile Jon had ever seen Edward give.

“Oh Jon, you should have told me the moment I started getting too hot for you to handle.” Jonathan had three things racing through his mind at that moment. The first one was the fact that Edward had just referred to him as Jon, which had never happened before; the second was how adorable Edward looked (this one would need to be taken care of in the immediate future); the third was how he was going to put this man down if he didn’t stop his teasing. Crane smirked.

“Oh Eddie, I thought that you just wouldn’t understand.” Jon pouted at the end, blinking innocently a few times (Harley was rubbing off on him) before a genuine smile crossed his face. The nickname, which would have usually irritated Edward to no end, made his pale cheeks turn a bright rosy red. He rolled his eyes out of faux annoyance, before flashing Crane the biggest smile he could muster.

“Oh, shut up.” Eddie said, pushing Jonathan’s shoulder, and Jon couldn’t help but snicker at the childish behavior. “Since when are we on nickname terms, huh?” Asked Edward, almost challengingly, as his smile changed into a smirk. If he wanted a challenge, Jon would give him one. He grabbed Edward by his ginger locks, bringing his own face to Edward’s ear. Edward’s lime eyes shot wide open.

“Since you snuck into my cell.” He said in a low, almost husky voice, and Edward whimpered, his face completely red now. Jon leaned back. “Plus, you started it.”

Edward was frozen for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night. What had just happened? He could blame it on it being around 5 AM, and because he could, he did. If only to ease his mind. He opened his mouth so as to say something, but quickly closed it when he realized he didn’t know what to say. So he just stood up from the bed.

“I, um, I should get going. You do need your alone time, no? So, uh, just start talking to me again when you feel ‘recharged’?” He said very awkwardly, pausing between every word, and making quotation marks with his fingers when he said ‘recharged’. Jon just nodded, and Edward proceeded to leave the room.

“Goodnight, Edward.” Eddie froze at the door.

“G-goodnight, Jonathan.”

He had never run faster in his life.

[devilbat]

Pine

Warning: Lemon, adult fun stuff. Haha. mention of adduction. This is my FIRST Jonathan Pine one shot. I’m excited and nervous about it at the same time.

@shockwavee requested 16 and 25 with Pine or Shape. I hope you like it.

16 You know my house has a door?” You don’t always have to use the window”

25 Are you trying to turn me on?”

It was well past 1 am. You had been laying in bed since 10pm. Waiting for sleep but knowing it would never come. Even if you wanted it you were too afraid of the dreams that would follow. It had been a month after your attack. It had been the worst experience of your life. Your dad was a high profile man. Who loved you more then anything. So what better way then to kidnap the worlds most wealthiest man’s beautiful daughter. Holding her against her will until the ransom was payed in full. Though you never had expected that your dad had other plans of getting you out.

When you met Jonathan Pine you were bound to a very uncomfortable chair. Hands tied behind it. Feet bound to each leg. A rag wrapped tightly in between your full lips. At first you panicked, thinking he was one of the kidnapers you thrashed around in the chair. Fearing the worst as you over heard the goons wanting to have a little fun with the “daddy’s little slut.” As they put it. Jonathan’s soft yet demanding voice trying to Calm you down. He had told you his name, and that he was getting you out. He made good on his word. After being safely returned home.

You found out that he was one of your dads bodyguard. After everything with your kidnaping your father decided to have him be yours. And frankly it was hard not to want him more then just to watch your body. You pined over him (no pun intended.) Ever glance he took, made you instantly weak in the knees and wet between the thighs. He was sex on legs. A tree you wanted to climb. You even caught yourself flirting up a storm with him when no one was looking. Innocent playful touches to his shoulders, and chest. Small giggles every time he made a bad joke. You had it bad for him.

So as you laid there trying to rest you mind on The handsome Brit, and the things he could do to you. You close your eyes, hoping to fall asleep. Jonathan strong hand invaded your mind. How they would feel across you body. The thought of his hand between your thighs made you moan out. You hand start to have a mind of its own as it started to slip under the hem of your laced panties. Until you heard something or someone come through your bedroom window. Your eye snapped open trying to see in the darken room. Like a fool you pulled the blanket up over your head. Like that was going to stop whoever was coming in. Minutes ticked by as you started to shake uncontrollably. You felt the bed dip down next to you. As the blanket slip off from your face. A scream slip from your lips before it was cut off by a large hand covered them. You thrashed about. Trying to kick punch at your assailant. Your muffled calls for help and get off me were useless. You assailant had you pin down.

“Darling, clam down it’s only me.” You heard the familiar voice call. You stopped eye flutter back open to find Jonathan’s face only inches from yours. He got off of you slowly.

“What the hell Jonathan.” You hissed smacking his chest as hard as you could. Only making the man chuckled. You huffed at him as he stood up. **“You know my house has a door?” You don’t always have to use the window.”** You sat up crossing you arms over your chest. As you glared at him.

“Yeah, but I didn’t want your other babysitter seeing me.” He chuckled awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “But that’s beside the point do you trust me?” He asked. You looked at him questionably.

“Yes I do.” You spoke quietly. His hand reached out for yours. You took it. As he hosted you out of the bed, on to your feet. His eyes racked over your body as he realized you were barely wearing anything. “Jonathan what’s going on?”

“We need to go now! I’ll explain everything later. I just need to to trust me.” He cleared his throat as he pulled you towards the window.

“Shouldn’t I change?”

“We don’t have time for that, love. Please.” He looked over at you something in his eyes made you fallow him, forgetting that you were half naked. He helped you out of the window. Though you felt like you were being man handled as his hand was on your ass. His thumb had slipped really close to your damp covered core when your dropped into his arms making you gasp. He was making this harder then anything. Taking his jacket off to cover you. Not saying a word about any thing. As he dragged you to his car.

“What’s going on?” You asked you voice was an octave higher then normal. Once Pine started that car. He was told to keep you safe, and that is what he was doing taking you somewhere. He told you that you father got a threatening letter towards you. You could feel panic wash over you. As the night of your kidnaping flooded your mind. You were shaking and quietly sobbing when he parker.

“We’ll be safe here no one knows about this place.” You felt Jonathan’s hands reached under you gently picking you up bridal style. As he cared you into the small shack. Setting you down on the bed that was settled off to the side of the room. Making sure to wrap you in the blanket that laid there. “I’ll be right back, I just need to get a few things out of the car.” His voice was stern but hinted at worry. But you really didn’t hear him as he left for the car.

When you realize he wasn’t there with you. Panic rushed through your. You stood up, the blanket fell from your shoulders. Jonathan didn’t even get the bags down before your body collided with his back. Nuzzling you face into him. A new wave of tears flooded your eyes. A whimper escape your mouth. Jonathan dropped the bags all together, twisting himself around his arms wrapping around you. His hand slowly rubbing your back.

“Shhh, Darling it’s all right. I’m not going to let that happen to you again. Come let’s get some rest.” Jonathan soothed you. Walking you towards the bed. He helped you in to bed, he went to leave. You grabbed his hand.

“Please, I don’t want to sleep alone.” You mumbled. Looking up at him tears welled in your eyes. Smiling down at you he nodded. His thumb brushed the last of your tears. As he scooted in next to you. You snuggled up to him. You felt him tense up. But soon relaxed resting an arms around your shoulders. Rubbing lightly up and down you arm. Before you knew it you were asleep.

Next morning you woke up, your back facing Pine. You had figured once you had fallen asleep he would of moved. But to you relief he was pressed against your back, his one arm wrapped under your waist holing you tightly. While the other moved along the curves of your sides. His rough hand moved down along your bare hip then back up to your shoulder. You had forgot you were only in a shirt and panties.

**“Are you trying to turn me on?”** The light moan suddenly slipped from your lips. Your sleeping brain, apparently hadn’t caught up with your mouth. His hand stopped as it now ghosted your hip. You felt him tense up. But he had yet to pull away from you. Your turned your head to look at him with widened eyes. About to say something when, his nose nuzzled with your before he took your lips with his own.

His hand grasped roughly on your hip, then moved along your thigh dipping down to the leg of your laced panties, pushing them aside. A long finger grazed long the slit of your damp folds. You gasped. His other hand bushes under your shirt, finding you breasts exposed and wanting attention. Kneading the one as his mouth moved along your jawline then down the back of your neck. You backside rolled into his crotch. Which you found a very hard, very huge cock only covered by boxers.

“Jonathan.” You moaned out as his finger slid in rubbing up and down before dipping into you dripping core. While his other rubbed your now hardened nipple with his palm before pinching with a tug. Your hip started to move in time with his finger. Which made your ass rub his cock. Coaxing a moan out of him. His hands stopped for a moment as he released his swollen cock. Pushing his legs between your, as his hand moved your wet panties aside once more as the tip of his length pressed against your entrance. You tense up a bit not used to how big he felt. Making him freeze.

“Y/n, do you want me to stop?” He looked at you. A hint of his own fear showed. Had he got the wrong impression. But you quickly shook your head as you pushed yourself down giving him the hint your wanted him. Fisted the bedsheets as he pushed further into you. Coaxing another moan from you. He nuzzled your neck. As he started moving in and out of you. Turned you into a moaning mess. Your leg that rested over his, before fell behind giving him better access. His heavy breathing fanned over you neck. His one hand still massaging your breast. The other one found your free hand, as you grabbed ahold of his. Nails pressed into the flesh.

“Oh Jonathan.” You cry out with pleasure. You toes curled as you hit your first orgasm. You felt him nip along your neck. You whimpered when he suddenly pulling out of you. He pushed you on to your back. Pushing your legs apart as he nestled back between them, his cock easily slipped into your core. You gasped out hands finding his neck. His thrust began to quicken. Panting y/n out. His lips took yours with so mach need. Your legs wrapped around his waist. You felt his cock twitch inside you. Arching your back as he picked up his pace. You bite at his bottom lip. Pulling a low growl from this man, that was of very little words. You arms wrapped tightly around him, close to coming again.

“Fuck. Jonathan. I’m. Going. To....” you cut yourself off with a scream as he picked up his pace. His eyes never leaving your as he watched you. You walls clenched around his length. Nails digging in to his skin. He felt you gush around his pulsating cock. It only took him a few more thrust and he grunt out heavily as he released his hot seed deep inside of you. You squeeze around him milking him for all he had. His lips met your once more as he slowed down. Whimpering when he pulled out of you. As he dropped down beside you, pulling you to his chest. As you both came down from your high.

You woke up some time later. On your stomach still naked, blanket draped over you. Looking around panic set in when you couldn’t see Jonathan. Dressing in his shirt. You walked from bed. Finding Jonathan in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of you. He wore only his boxes as he worked. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his shoulder.

“I didn’t know you could cook?” You purred. “You full of surprises Pine.” Kissing his shoulder again.

“You have know idea love.” He smirked taking your hand kissing it lightly as he works.

Permanent tags: @kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @jackheart180 @miraclesoflove @wolfcore227 @mr-hiddlestons-pet @madleiine @teageowen

Tom/Loki Tag’s: @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime @youveseen--thebutcher @shockwavee

[thesundanceghost]

Out of the Blue and Into the Black

<<Okay bear with me here, long author notes await. I’m very hesitant to call this an It AU but it is shamelessly stolen from inspired by parts of that book, SO. There aren’t really any spoilers for it though, and it’s also very easy to follow if you know literally nothing about Stephen King or demon clowns, I promise.

Also the characters in this are NOT supposed to match up with the actual Losers Club-- some of their conversations overlap a bit, and they play similar roles, but it really has nothing to do with the characters and more to do with plot. Also, not all of the plots are the same. It’s inspired by the book, not a switching of characters, if that makes sense.>>

Read on AO3 (please leave comments if you do!!!)

Chapter One: Nancy Wheeler leaves a note

“We lie best when we lie to ourselves” -Stephen King, It

The spring of 1998 was going to be good to Nancy Wheeler, a fact made clear to her as the familiar tune of Buddy Holly drifted over her radio that morning in March. She grinned and turned the volume up slightly slightly as she stirred her coffee, tapping her foot in time with the beat.

“You say that you’re gonna leave, you know it’s a lie, cuz you know that’ll be the day… that I die,” she sang quietly, letting a smile drift over her face.

“Is it an oldies kind of day, then?” Nancy looked over as her assistant Rachel waltzed into the break room and nodded to the radio.

Nancy grinned. “It’s always an oldies kind of day,” she corrected. Rachel laughed, holding open the door for her, and she smiled gratefully as she made her way to her office.

“Alright so you’ve got that meeting at 3:00 today, and then you need to sign off on the shipments for the afternoon,” Rachel listed out as they walked. “And all the paperwork for those corporate changes are on your desk.”

Nancy sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. “Wonderful. Do me a favor and forward any calls until I get this done, yeah?”

Rachel nodded in understanding and walked off as Nancy made her way into her office, letting the door close behind her. She sighed at the stacks of paper waiting on her desk, but dutifully took a seat and set her coffee aside.

The first hour was easy, double checking numbers and reading fine print. By the time ten o'clock rolled around, Nancy figured this wouldn't be that terrible of a day after all.

“Excuse me,” Rachel said as she pushed the door open. Nancy looked up at her assistant, who was frowning slightly. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s this writer from Indiana who keeps calling you? Says he’s an old friend.”

“Indiana?” Nancy set down her pen with a frown.

“Yeah, uh, Steve Harrington?” Rachel said the name dismissively.

Nancy felt her heart stop. Rachel was still talking, explaining the situation, but Nancy barely heard a word.

You're Nancy Wheeler, right? Yes, and you're Steve Harrington. You know we've gone to school together for three years now, right? So you know the name of every single person in our grade, then? No, but I would know the name of the person I'm trying to flirt with.

“I’ve told you’re busy but he’s pretty damn insistent, he’s called back like three times. Now I don’t mind hanging up on him again, but--”

“No!” Nancy said immediately, finally feeling able to speak again. Her heart was pounding, but she tried to compose herself. Rachel was just staring at her in confusion. “No, um, I’d better take it. Can you patch him through, please?”

“Sure thing boss,” Rachel said with a shrug, shutting the door behind her.

Nancy barely registered the click of the door. She felt frozen in place, unable to move, her mind a steady buzz of energy. There were so many thoughts racing through her mind she felt unable to process a single one.

Soon the phone was ringing and the light was blinking, indicating a call. Nancy stared at it, her hands shaking slightly. The idea of what was waiting on the other side of this phone call make her stomach swirl terribly.

The phone rang again, and before she knew what she was doing, Nancy reached out and grabbed it, holding it to her ear.

She could hear him. He was humming absentmindedly, a grainy sound through the static of the line, reminding her of the distance between them. She breathed softly, knowing the moment she spoke was the moment everything would become far too real again.

As it turned out, it came even sooner than that.

“Uh, Nancy? You there?” The voice was deeper than she ever remembered it being, and Nancy inhaled sharply.

“Yeah. Hi Steve,” she replied after a second, clearing her throat.

There was a long pause, and Nancy wondered if he was as scared as she was.

“That’s one hell of a receptionist you’ve got there. I thought I was gonna have to fly up to Minneapolis to get a hold of you,” Steve joked, and Nancy huffed a breath in spite of herself.

“Yeah sorry about that. It’s been a busy day, I’ve been working nonstop,” she explained, running a hand through her short hair.

“I’m sorry to call.” There was something deep and genuine in that, and it made Nancy even more frightened.

“Steve, what’s going on?” She wasn’t sure why she was even asking. Just hearing his voice on the other end of the line made it impossible for her to deny the reality of the situation. She knew what was happening. She just needed to hear him say it.

“Nancy,” Steve said, and it sounded undeniably unaltered to the way he said it fifteen years ago. “It’s back.”

(It has to be dead. It has to be.)

“Nancy?” Steve’s voice-- older, deeper than the voice of the past-- shook her out of her thoughts. She flinched violently, mouth opening and closing as she searched for her voice.

“I’m-- I’m here,” she stammered.

She heard him sigh over the line. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot.”

That was putting it mildly. Nancy’s eyes darted around her office. Everything felt foreign, unrecognizable, like this wasn’t her life. Like she was still just a sixteen year old girl in Hawkins, staring down horrors beyond her control. Meetings and assistants and reports shouldn’t exist in the same world as that.

“Are you sure?” She asked him, voice steadier than she expected it to be.

“I wouldn’t have called if I wasn’t,” Steve answered immediately, and she knew in the very core of her soul that he was telling the truth. “I never wanted to call you like this.”

Nancy nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “Have you called him?”

“Not yet,” Steve responded easily. “But I’ve got his number right here in front of me. As soon as you hang up…”

“Okay,” Nancy continued, letting out a long breath. There was a long pause, but Nancy didn’t know how to break it.

“Nancy, I just… will you come?” Steve implored quietly. Nancy got the feeling he didn’t want to ask.

She took a deep breath before answering decisively. “I’ll come. I’ll catch a plane to Indianapolis tonight.”

She heard Steve sigh, and she wondered if it was out of relief or fear. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Bye Steve,” she concluded, and the phone went dead.

Nancy set the phone back on the hook numbly, staring at the wood desk. Her mind was ablaze with memories that felt like dreams-- flashing lights, desperate huddling in the dark, the frantic pleas from behind her as she shakingly slipped more rounds into a gun..

Nancy squeezed her left hand tightly shut. She cut her hand on a fence. That’s what she’d always told people when they’d asked, back when the scar was more raised and noticeable, and she’d grown to forget it was even a lie.

But now she remembered too clearly. She could practically feel the thin metal of a Coke bottle slicing against her palm as Jonathan muttered to her and they’d made that promise--

“Oh god,” she whispered, pressing her unscarred hand to her mouth as she felt bile rise in her throat. She swallowed hard and took three deep breaths (in for four, hold for seven, out for eight, that’s it, you’re okay Nancy, it’s over) before getting to her feet. Grabbing her purse and pushing her paperwork into two neat piles, she made her way out of her office door, stopping at the desk outside. Rachel was on the phone, but she quickly put it on hold upon seeing Nancy.

"Everything okay, Dr. Wheeler?" She asked, and Nancy tried to offer her a smile.

“Rachel, I have to go. I won’t back for at least a few days.” Nancy said quickly, and her assistant blinked up at her, looking frantic.

“What do you mean? Where are you going?” Rachel got to her feet, looking at a loss for what to do.

“It’s... personal stuff, I'm afraid. I’m sorry to drop this on you, I really am, but I can’t avoid this.” Nancy explained with a frown.

Rachel glanced over at Nancy’s office before leaning forward. “Is this something to do with that phone call?”

Nancy closed her eyes, sighing. “I can’t tell you that.”

She readjusted her purse on her shoulder and made her way to the door. “What if Daniel calls?”

“Tell him I’ll explain later!” Nancy glanced back, pausing when she saw Rachel’s look. She sighed, practically pleading when she spoke up again. “And Rachel, before you assume anything, just do me a favor and… don’t assume anything.”

Rachel made one last protest, but Nancy was already out the door, pushing her way through the building until she reached her car. She felt calmer now, though she wasn't sure how. It seemed impossible, being calm at a time like that, and yet... it was just one more job.

Nancy stayed calm as she made her way home and packed her things. Her closet was already emptied for the most part in preparation for her upcoming move, and she simply transferred the rest of the things into a small bag. She threw in a toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, and a few other essentials before zipping it up and setting it aside. She glanced around, trying to see if she'd forgotten anything else.

As she glanced around the house, she felt a deep sense of unease come over her. It was more space than two people could ever hope to need, let alone one person. She’d gotten lucky somehow. Time and time again-- from college to graduate school to the pharmacy job… somehow everything had gone well. It reminded her of something her grandmother had once said to her when she'd made a rare visit.

I get worried when things go too well. It usually means something is going to go terribly wrong. Life's all about balance, darling.

Nancy's eyes landed on the closet door and the garment bag that was slung over it and she felt a new sort of fear rise inside her chest, thought it was starkly different to the kind she'd experienced during Steve's phone call. She stared at for a long minute, as if willing it to just go and disappear already.

After steeling her nerves, Nancy crossed to the garment bag and pulled down the zipper quickly, pushing the nylon aside to look at the dress laying inside. The white satin folded gently inside, pooling at the bottom gently. She ran her hand over it softly before stepping back and staring at it.

What are you doing? She asked herself. You’re getting married in a week and you’re running off to see an old high school sweetheart?

She knew how this looked. She wanted to feel guilty, to worry about what he would think, what everyone would think, but for some reason she couldn’t. As sick as she felt about going back to Hawkins… it was a lot less frightening that staying in Minneapolis.

She zipped the bag back up and grabbed an orange post-it note from off her desk, scrawling a quick note before grabbing her bag and locking the door behind her.

I’m alright. I had to go back home for a bit. I’ll call you. x Nancy

Chapter 2