#The two of them abusing a child is enough to be angry about you don't have to make up or bring up old drama about a flag one of them made

[sourwolf-sterek32]

The Dirt (Your Version)

Summary: Meeting Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee was a coincidence. Being friends was a choice. But falling in love with them both was beyond your control.

Or

A rewrite of The Dirt with all the highs and lows of Mötley Crüe from your perspective.

Pairings: Nikki Sixx x Reader, Tommy Lee x Reader, Nikki Sixx x Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Trigger warning- past child abuse, homophobic language

Previous Chapter

Chapter 16- Crash and Burn

After months and months of nonstop touring. Perform, fly to the next city, perform and repeat with no breaks, it burnt the guys out.

Mötley Crüe were pushing the limits of their sobriety. They were exhausted, so depleted, so devoid of all thought and emotion and it wasn't even the end of the tour yet.

"Lemon drop?" A waitress offered, walking over to Mötley's table at the local club while holding out a tray of brightly coloured shots.

"No, thank you. Just some more waters." Nikki politely declined from across the table.

"This is great." Vince commented sarcastically raising his glass of plain water.

You kicked his boot from under the table causing him to glare at you, but he didn't say anything before leaning back against his chair with a heavy sigh.

The rest of the guys tried to distract themselves from the alcohol by watching the girls dance on the poles at the far side of the club, but that clearly wasn't working for Vince.

Tommy excused himself to try and phone his wife again. But it had been a week straight of not being able to reach Heather due to a busy work schedule and it was taking its toll on the drummer.

"They're keeping us on the road. Fifteen new days in Canada." Nikki informed taking a sip of his drink.

"I haven't seen anything about any new dates." Vince responded with a frown.

"Check your itinerary, man."

"I would, but somebody doesn't think it's important to let the lead fucking singer know what the fuck is going on here." Your brother snapped before aggressively grabbing his glass of water and drinking the last of it.

You glanced between him and Nikki, relieved that the bassist didn't retaliate at your brother's hostile tone. Everyone was getting worn out, tempers were running thin, and it was only a matter of time before someone broke.

"Guys, I fucked up." Tommy announced, right on cue.

He plonked himself down on his seat at the table looking tired and miserable.

"Heather's been all weird and distant and I drank." He admitted guiltily staring down at his hands. "Well, a little. I had one shot and I'm sorry."

"I'm gonna have a fucking cocktail too, man. What are you gonna do about it, Nikki?" Vince challenged.

"Everybody falls off the wagon once in a while-"

"Fuck you, man." Vince cut him off causing Nikki to shoot him a heated look. "Fuck off! Fuck the rest of this tour. It is the No Fucking Fun tour, and I am sick and tired of not having any fucking fun."

"Vince-" You tried to say but he abruptly stood up from his chair and began marching off.

"I don't wanna fucking hear it!"

You watched him walk off in the direction of the bar before Nikki shot to his feet and went after him.

Oh, here we go.

You jumped to your feet as well, Mick and Tommy remaining seated watching on to see what would happen as you rushed across the club towards them.

"Hey, we're not done!" Nikki shouted grabbing Vince's jacket.

Your brother spun around and shoved Nikki in the chest hard causing the bassist to stumble back a step.

"We fucking are, man."

"Enough. Both of you." You ordered, stepping between the two of them while holding your hand up towards your brother ready to stop him from doing anything else while eyeing Nikki cautiously out the corner of your eye.

You loved them both dearly, but Vince had more of a temper than Nikki. So, it was him you were worried about at the moment, but you also knew how angry Nikki could get if provoked.

Vince glared at Nikki over your shoulder, his mouth thinning with displeasure before he looked down at you and clenched his jaw tightly as if holding back what he wanted to say.

"Let's just sit back down and take a breather, yeah?" You suggested holding your brothers gaze, but he simply shook his head before looking at Nikki behind you.

"Oh, and by the way..." He began to say, his voice hardening ruthlessly as he grabbed a shot from a waitress walking past. "Here's to your sober band."

Vince down the shot before dropping the glass letting it shatter against the ground before he turned and shouted over his shoulder.

"Get me that itinerary, bass player."

Vince marched off towards the bar and you glanced back at Nikki who looked ready to charge right back after him.

"Don't." You warned, shaking your head. "Just let him cool off."

Nikki let out a heavy exhale but nodded allowing you to walk him back to the table where Mick and Tommy were sitting having watched the whole thing. None of them commented on it, they didn't have to.

Eventually, you convinced the manager to send the band home for a while and you had never seen the guys look so relieved.

They all loved the rockstar life and wouldn't trade it for the world. It was all their dreams coming true, but even Mötley Crüe had their limits and they had found theirs.

After the much-needed break, the band got back into the studio and started working on the next album. Everyone was keen to try and top Dr. Feelgood, everyone except for Vince. Your brother hadn't just drunk that single shot at the club. He had gone back to drinking like he used to before rehab, and it was bad.

Sharise had filed for a divorce and when he returned from the tour, the mansion was empty. His ex-wife had taken his daughter and left without a goodbye. So, Vince turned to the only thing he knew how to do to numb the pain, drink alcohol.

They were all slipping off the wagon again, but Vince was the one who was letting it affect his work. He would constantly show up late to the studio and sometimes, he just wouldn't show up at all and everyone was getting sick of it.

There was a bad storm today, but the guys all came to the studio anyway, battling the conditions but Vince wasn't there despite living the closest. The longer they had to wait, the more pissed they became.

Nikki slammed the phone down after another failed call to Vince's house.

"I'm telling you, guys, everything is fucking upside down and flip-flopping. And while we're waiting for our lead singer to get his head out of his ass, we're getting left in the dust, man." Tommy grumbled, but you knew where this conversation was going. He had said it too many times to count and you didn't want to hear it.

"Tommy, zip it." You warned, glaring over at him from your spot on the couch.

"I'm just saying, bands replace their front men, and it still works. Van Halen-"

"I know Van Halen fucking did it 'cause you say that every single time Vince misses a fucking rehearsal." Nikki said cutting him off.

"Well? Mick?" Tommy asked looking over at the older man for backup.

"Shut it." He ordered causing Tommy to sigh. "Where is this asshole? Every second that goes by, I feel another bone rotting from this fucking disease. Call the prick again."

Nikki lowered his bass and walked back over to the phone on the table, but once again, there was no answer.

"Y/N, seriously, where the fuck is your brother?" Nikki asked, slamming the phone down so hard you feared he may have broken it.

"I'm not his fucking keeper." You snapped from where you were lying on the couch before sighing and taking in a deep calming breath. "He's going through shit. Just give him some time."

"We're all going through shit, and he's had enough time. I'm sending him a fax." Nikki muttered before he stormed out the room.

Nearly an hour later, Tommy sat behind his drums while Nikki and Mick stood nearby with their bass and guitar around their shoulders trying to work out a rhythm for a new song.

You stood in front of the microphone taking over from your brother's position like you usually did whenever he missed these rehearsals. You could not sing like Vince in the slightest. You were a backup singer at the very most, but hearing the lyrics being sung helped the guys with their instruments so you agreed to do it.

Suddenly, the door to the studio slammed open and the music died as Vince marched inside, his hair and clothes drenched from the pouring rain still pelting down from outside.

"Someone wanna tell me what the fuck's going on here?"

"Let's save us all some time, especially yours, Vince, as it's clearly more fucking valuable than ours!" Nikki shouted, walking up to your brother until they were practically toe to toe.

You lowered your hand from the microphone pole and took a few cautious steps towards them not liking how hostile this conversation was already.

"You'd better tell me what the fuck's going on, man." Vince growled.

"What's going on is we're down here, and we're working, and we wanna be here, but we are tired of forcing you to be here with us."

"Maybe I'd come in more if I liked the material."

"Maybe you'd like the material if you were in the studio making it with us instead of staring at your fucking watch!" Tommy barked from behind his drums.

"Yeah, I'm staring at my watch because this album is fucking stupid!"

The bullshit flew back and forth between the guys like a game of tennis until Vince finally threw his racket at the ground.

"You know what? Fuck all y'all. I am done. Fuck this. I quit."

"Good, 'cause you're fucking fired!" Nikki snapped.

"I quit already, dick." Your brother said over his shoulder.

"Whoa, wait, wait." You jogged after him. "No. Vin, bro, come on. Let's just talk about-"

"I'm done."

"Vince-" You grabbed his arm, but he shoved you back forcefully causing you to trip over your own feet and fall to the ground, hard.

"Fuck off, Y/N."

"Whoa!" Nikki shouted, stepping forward protectively.

"What the fuck, man? She's your sister!" Tommy exclaimed, rushing around his drums and dropping to his knees beside you to see if you were okay, but you waved him off.

"She's just a fucking slut who spreads her legs for you guys!" Vince spat.

The room fell silent.

The only sound was the old clock on the wall ticking by at each passing second.

You, Tommy and Nikki froze. Your eyes widened in shock and Vince smiled maliciously.

"You thought I wouldn't find out about that?"

Nobody said anything. You didn't know what to say and doubted you'd be able to speak even if you wanted to.

How the hell did he know?

"When I figured it out, and I figured it out pretty fucking quickly. I wanted to kill you both." Vince growled glaring at Tommy and Nikki. "But I didn't. That wasn't weakness. It took everything."

"Let me explain-" you began to say but he cut you off.

"Explain what? That you're a slut who fucks the two nearest guys?!"

You jumped to your feet in an instant and stalked over to him getting in his face.

"You have no fucking right to say that to me!" You hissed. "Not when you fuck every girl that comes close to you. Not when you cheated on your wife all tour and then wondered why she fucking dumped your ass."

The second the words were out your mouth, you regretted them. It was a low blow. It was true but you shouldn't have said it. Vince was struggling enough as it was with Sharise leaving and his daughter going with her. You shouldn't have bought them into this argument.

Vince took a sudden step forward and you flinched back a step, waiting for the backhand that never came.

Vince had never once laid a hand on you. Even when you were kids and fighting, he never got physical. The two of you got enough hits and bruises from your father, you didn't need to do it to each other. But after what you just said, you thought that he would.

Instead, he glared down at you. His hands clenched together tightly by his sides like he wanted to fight but was holding himself back.

"You are treading on some thin fucking ice, Y/N." Vince warned. "Don't push me."

"Then don't call me a slut and we won't have a problem."

Vince laughed, but it wasn't his usual happy laugh. It was forced and it was mean.

"Then you shouldn't have spread your fucking legs for them!"

"Whoa, that's enough!" Nikki shouted from behind you.

Vince's eyes darted over your shoulder towards the bassist and hardened.

"I told you. I told both of you that my sister was off limits. I fucking told you!"

"We know." Tommy sighed.

"That's all you have to say? You fucked my little sister behind my back and that is all you have to say to me?!"

"What do you want us to say, man?" Nikki asked. "We can't undo what we've done. And you know what? I don't want to undo it. I liked it."

A cloud of warning settled over Vince's features. His jaw tensed visibly, nostrils flaring, and you knew what he was about to do.

You had seen your brother in enough fights over the years to know the signs. From schoolyard fist fights to bar brawls. You knew when Vince was about to start swinging and it was now.

His eyes were zeroed in on one thing, and one thing only: Nikki Sixx.

Vince stepped around you, fury making his boots strike the ground in heavy thumps as he marched up to the bassist. Nikki didn't back away. He stood up straighter, chest expanding, and shoulders pulled back making himself look bigger and fierce.

"Guys, don't." Tommy rushed over knowing as well as you did that this would not end well.

Vince was probably more experienced in fights, but Nikki could hold his own if he had to.

Tommy reached for your brother's shoulder trying to defuse the situation, but Vince shoved the drummer away easily. He stumbled back a few steps crashing into his drum set and knocking over a cymbal with a loud crash.

Nikki was quick to shove Vince back in retaliation for pushing Tommy. Your brothers body staggered back a step not expecting the sudden strength from the bassist before he got his footing and marched right back up to Nikki, his hand forming a fist by his side.

"Enough!" You yelled, slotting yourself between them putting your hands against their chests holding them apart. "Back off. Both of you."

"Let's just talk about this." Mick spoke up from across the room.

"There's nothing to talk about. You guys are fucking dead to me." Vince snarled pointing at Nikki and Tommy before his hard eyes narrowed down at you. "And we're fucking done."

Vince didn't wait for anyone to say anything else before he abruptly turned on his heels and marched towards the door.

"Vince, come on. I'm your sister-"

He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head, "not anymore."

Your hand fell from Nikki's chest. Tears burning in the back of your eyes as you watched your brother leave the studio.

He was gone.

Mötley Crüe was over.

And it was all your fault.

The door slammed shut behind Vince causing you to flinch at the loud bang. You didn't move. You didn't say anything. You just stood there staring at the closed door through blurry tear-filled eyes.

Tommy picked up his cymbal from the floor before taking a hesitant step towards you.

"Y/N..." He began to say but got lost for words.

What could he even say? It was over. It was all over. It was your fault and your brother had disowned you.

"I don't even care anymore." You sighed, wiping the tears from your eyes before slowly walking towards the door. "I’m out."

"Y/N, wait. Don't go." Nikki begged, rushing over and grabbing your arm gently. "Please don't go. Not like this."

You turned and smiled sadly at him through teary eyes.

"Guess you were right all along, Sixx." You thought back to the day he caught you and Tommy in bed all those years ago. "I did end up ruining the band."

You pulled your arm free easily from Nikki's grasp and he didn't try and stop you as you turned and walked out the studio.

Vince's bright sports car sped off down the street in a blur of red paint before skidding around the corner and disappearing out of sight leaving you standing on the sidewalk in the rain.

You thought back to when the two of you were teenagers. Back when Vince had his hopes and dreams set on becoming a rockstar.

-

Your brother had just left with his surfer buddy to catch some waves before dinner leaving you alone in the house doing your homework at the kitchen bench.

Halfway through trying to solve fraction equations the front door of the house slammed open followed by loud heavy footsteps. Your grip tightened around the pencil hating how you could tell your fathers bad mood by the sound of his footsteps alone.

Choosing to ignore him, you continued working on your math homework with your head down while your father marched across the house. He was muttering and swearing to himself as usual, dumping his lunch bag on the dining room table before walking into the kitchen past you and grabbing a bottle of beer from the fridge.

"Where's your fucking brother?"

"I dunno." You shrugged writing down your calculations.

Vince was currently grounded and not allowed to leave the house after school for the next two weeks. There was no way in hell you were about to snitch on him to your father.

"Hey, look at me when I'm talking." Your father ordered.

Your head instantly snapped up at your father's stern tone and silently cursed yourself for showing disrespect like that.

You met your fathers’ dark eyes, his lips pressing together in anger before he shook his head and pointed to Vince's guitar that was laying across the couch. Your fathers leather couch.

Shit.

Vince had forgotten to put it away before he left.

"Where did he get that from?" Your father demanded.

Ah, crap.

Well, technically, Vince stole it.

"I don't know." You lied.

"I'm fucking sick of this music crap and the gay clothes he's starting to wear. No son of mine is wearing that shit in public. I didn't raise a fucking fag!" Your father growled, glaring at the guitar on the couch.

"He's not gay for wearing those clothes." You mumbled softly under your breath but the second the words were out of your mouth, you knew it was a mistake.

Never talk back.

That was his number one rule, never talk back. Your father was huge on respect and responsibility. He had drilled that into you and Vince as kids and you had just broken that rule.

Your father was on you like a rash and before you knew it, you were being hauled from your chair and slammed up against the kitchen cabinet.

His breath smelt like whiskey, having already been down to the local bar after work to drink and spend money the family didn't even have. It was nothing new, but now you understood why his anger was on a shorter leash than usual.

You stood up straight, your back pressed against the wooden door of the cabinet, but despite how strong you were pretending to be, you were scared. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you could feel your hands starting to tremble by your side.

You were so dead.

"What have we talked about?"

This was a test.

He was giving you a chance to correct yourself. A chance to plead your guilt and apologise, but you were goddamn sick of apologising to him for stuff that didn't warrant it.

You remained silent tilting your head up high maintaining eye contact to show you weren't afraid, but he knew you were. He could always tell. And you were always afraid.

"Speak when spoken to!" He shouted, his face inches from yours causing you to flinch back.

"Vince can wear whatever he wants." You answered, hating the way your voice trembled. "It's not your decision and it doesn't make him gay."

His jaw clenched and you knew exactly what was about to happen.

A split second later, his knuckles collided with your jaw snapping your head to the side, blood filling your mouth.

"You are a slow fucking learner, girl." He hissed, looking down at you before you spat blood at his face.

He was already pissed. Might as well make it worth it.

His fist instantly collided with the side of your face again, the force of the hit slamming the back of your head against the cabinet door behind you. His hand balled into a fist against the collar of your jacket, pressing you harder against the door.

Your stepmother suddenly walked into the house only just getting home from work, but completely froze when she saw the scene in front of her.

You glanced over at her, silently begging her to do something, to say something, to help, but she never did. Your father suddenly grabbed your chin and turned your head back towards him, forcing you to look at him, and only him.

"Go to your room and don't come out until school tomorrow. No dinner either."

Then, he released his hold of you and walked out the kitchen, but you remained leaning against the cabinet for a few minutes breathing heavily and fighting back the tears you could feel rising in your eyes.

Your stepmother stared at you for a moment, sadness washing over her before she walked away without a word.

You peeled yourself off the wooden door and grabbed Vince's guitar from the couch before your father could break it. Dumping the guitar in your brother's bedroom, you made a beeline for his window and slid it open before climbing out and running away from the house and away from your father's wrath.

A few minutes later, you were walking along the soft floury sand of the beach. The sun was shining brightly in the vast never ending blue sky above you and just the scent of salt water and fresh air made you feel better.

Seagulls were squawking above your head as they flew by searching for leftover food while you walked along the shore in the shallows of the sea.

Looking around you noticed that the beach was fairly secluded. There were no normal sights of tourists with day-glow tans, no tacky food stands or chattering children. The beach was completely empty at this time on a weekday. It was beautiful.

The entire stretch of golden beach was bare except for two figures in the distance, surfing along the waves gracefully.

Vince.

You slowly made your way down the beach, sand crunching under your feet with each step until you reached his towel that was laid over the soft sand and you sat down on top of it.

Vince and his surfer buddy were cutting through the waves with ease, soaring along the coast like they had done it a thousand times before, which they had. You and your brother practically lived at the beach. It was your safe haven away from the drama at home.

Closing your eyes, you took in a deep calming breath memorized by the rhythm of the waves breaking on the shore as you savoured the salty air.

When you opened your eyes again, there was only one surfer still out there, but you could hear footsteps in the sand approaching you.

Tilting your head to the side, you spotted Vince walking towards you with his surfboard clamped under his left arm. The second he saw the angry red mark on your cheek his relaxed and happy expression hardened.

He stared at your cheek and gritted his teeth in anger before he dropped his board down onto the sand. He grabbed a can of coke out his friend's cooler nearby and held it out towards you while motioning towards the bruising mark.

"What happened?"

"Nothing." You dismissed grabbing the coke and pressing the cold can to the side of your face with a wince.

"Y/N, what did he do this time?"

You sighed, looking away from your brother hating how you could feel tears beginning to burn in the back of your eyes.

"I'm going to fucking kill him." Vince growled, but you knew he couldn't.

Sure, Vince was getting older and stronger, but your father was an ex-military man turned mechanic. Vince couldn't beat him in a fight, not yet anyway. The still healing blackeye on your brother's face was enough evidence of that.

You weren't going to tell him about the things your father had said. He had made it clear to your brother about his hate towards the music and glam style clothes. Vince didn't need a reminder about that, and you didn't want him to stop wearing that stuff just because of your stupid father.

"One day, I'm getting us out of that fucking house." Vince said, sitting down on the towel beside you. "Away from this shitty neighbourhood. Away from him. Away from all of it. I promise."

"You can't promise that." You whispered, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"I can." He insisted. "Soon, I'll be in a band, and we won't have to see him ever again."

You wanted to believe him. You really did. Vince had the skill to make it as a rockstar, that wasn't up for debate, but the chances of it happening? Pretty slim.

"No matter what happens, we stick together, yeah?" Vince said looking over at you.

You tilted your head towards him and smiled, "you and me against the world, bro."

"You're damn right."

He wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you into his side. The salt water from his long-wet hair mixed in with your tears as you rested your head against his shoulder.

The two of you sat on the beach together with your toes in the cool sand watching the waves crash along the shore while silently dreading the thought of going back home.

-

Now, you stood alone outside the recording studio in the rain, salty tears falling down your cheeks.

Vince had made it as a rockstar. He kept his promise and had gotten you both out of that abusive home, but now he was gone.

No matter what happens, we stick together.

What a bunch of bullshit.

-

Next Chapter

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#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx x you #tommy lee fanfic #tommy lee x reader #vince neil #mick mars #the dirt #pov #imagine #motley crue fanfiction #motley crue x reader

[munsonsreputation]

Soon You'll Get Better

Chapter Three: Neon Kitchen, Bright Sky

↢ chapter two | series masterlist | chapter four ↣

summary: Max can never seem to catch a break and things are no different when Billy's dad comes back into the picture. When everything takes a sudden turn and the one person who was supposed to have her back fails her, you and Steve don't hesitate to step in.

word count: [16.7k]

: ̗̀➛ pairings: big-brother!steve x max & big-sister!reader x max

: ̗̀➛ romantic pairing: steve harrington x fem-college-student!reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings: angst, physical altercation, mentions of slapping, cursing, billy's abusive dad, mentions of death (billy), bruises, and mentions of absent parents (max & steve)

“Get the fuck out!”

Her shouts echoed against the walls of the trailer, resounding off the metal as she pointed at the door and stood face to face with the man she didn’t want to see. He snarled at her, face practically red as he turned to her mother who stood off to the side, not daring to get in between them like she should’ve been doing in the first place.

“Are you going to let her speak to me that way?” He asked ridiculously knowing that she didn’t have a backbone, and when it came to him, she would ultimately betray her own daughter.

The thumb she had been biting down on dropped from her mouth, shaking her head vigorously. She turned to her daughter and looked at her with wide, pleading eyes.

“Maxine, he’s staying. End of discussion.”

Max rolled her eyes, glaring just as harshly at her mother for this bullshit that she was putting her through. The last thing she needed was to see her former stepfather right before her eyes, claiming he was back in their lives all of the sudden. The same one who abandoned her and her mother after Billy died and couldn’t even be man enough to stay for his funeral.

What possessed her mother to think that Max was ever going to let this slide was beyond comprehensible. Maybe it was some sort of mid-life crisis she was going through or desperation, but over her dead body would she allow this man to live under the same roof as her and her mother after everything that had happened in the past.

Max clenched her fists to her sides, reminding herself that she wasn’t going to get physical no matter how angry she was. The most important thing that she needed to do was try to stay somewhat composed and get it through her mother’s head that this wasn’t going to happen.

“No, he isn’t! Did you forget everything he put us through? What about what he did to Billy? All those years of abuse and you’re letting him back in!” She protested, unclenching one of her hands to point brutally at the man who towered over her.

Her mother wasn’t a stranger to the abuse Billy’s father had inflicted on his son. Verbally, physically, and psychologically — he was horrible to him, the same way that Billy had continued the cycle and was horrible to Max.

She looked down guiltily, shaking her head as if she was trying to believe her own lie, “He—He’s changed Max…you don’t know how hard it was for him to lose his son—”

“And I lost my brother! I watched him die with my own eyes, so what about me?”

Max didn’t mean to get emotional so quickly, but it felt like this was all something that was building up from last week’s events that were just as heavy as this. Even more so, she wished she had spent the night at you and Steve’s apartment, taking you both up on that movie night you had suggested, but instead she picked to stay home for once and try to spend more time with her mom.

Just for the night to turn into this bullshit.

Billy’s dad swatted at her pointed hand, slamming it back down to her side where she clenched her fist, wondering if this was a free pass for her to plant it towards his jaw — but she stayed calm, ignoring the stinging feeling on her skin.

“You’re the child and we’re the adults, you obey us!” He roared, causing Max to flinch slightly, yet she knew this game he was playing.

Threatening — the same thing he used to do to Billy.

But if there was one thing she learned from her late brother, it was that sometimes the best thing to do was strike back…with words of course. Because while his father usually always started it, Billy was the one to finish it.

“You’re not my fucking father and I don’t have to obey shit you say.”

She didn’t mean to look so smug after she said that. Max was actually supposed to be putting on that signature glare, but she couldn’t help it. Watching the sorry excuse of a man’s face drop before her and the vein in his neck nearly about to combust over the harsh truth she had spat right at him.

SLAP!

But the palm that connected with her cheek surely replaced the smugness with shock. Tears instantly pricking at her eyes as her hands clutched at the skin that prickled with a hundred nerves burning beneath the surface.

Her mother gasped, but not daring to scold the man for his actions, too frightened to do so. Instead, trying to grab at Max’s wrists to pull them away from her cheek in order to assess the damage that had been done, but that wasn’t what Max wanted of her.

She wanted her mother to scream.

To yell.

Fight back.

Tell him to get the fuck out of her home.

Call the cops.

Put him in jail.

Then hold her in her arms and apologize.

But she didn’t.

Max nudged her mother’s hands away, blinking wildly, and the tears rolled down her skin.

“It’s me or him.”

The ultimatum she laid before her mother should’ve been an easy one to answer. Obviously her blood, the girl she had given birth to and raised all by herself seemingly fine before she met Billy’s dad.

But the only thing in the eerily quiet trailer was now silence.

She could see her mother’s hesitation through the blur of salty puddles in her eyes. The eyes that darted between her daughter and her ex-husband’s, as if he was worth more than her even after she was the one that had stuck by her mother’s side and held her up even when she couldn’t even keep herself together.

All of this for a man.

Max swallowed the lump in her throat, disappointingly shaking her head as she brushed past her mom, heading down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, slamming and locking the door shut. There was no way in hell she was going to spend the rest of the night or the upcoming days with him in her presence.

She wasn’t going to before and she sure wasn’t going to now after he had just put his hands on her. Easily, she could’ve reached for the phone that laid on her bedside table, dialing El and asking for her father to come down to the trailer park to arrest the son of a bitch, but the first thing on her mind was getting out.

And she knew where she was going.

Stuffing a drawer full of clothes into her duffle bag, it was enough to last her a few days before she would need to borrow some, but it would do for the meantime. The excess space was filled with her childhood stuffed animal: Bubbles the Dino and the rest of her tapes and Walkman that would get her through.

She zipped up the oversized jacket that once belonged to Billy, pulling the hood over her head, hoping this was enough to keep her warm for the journey. She walked out of her bedroom back into the living room where he was still berating her mother as she sat on the couch with her head in her hands not knowing what to say or do.

Max didn’t pay them any mind, heading straight to the front door so she could make her exit before anyone tried to stop her. The creaking of the hinges prompted their attention, but she was already down the front porch steps before they could move.

“Maxine, you’re not going anywhere!” Her mom hollered, frozen in the doorway with the man right behind her.

Max rolled her eyes once more, hands tightening on her bike handles as she turned her head and looked towards the one person who was supposed to choose her all the time.

“You can both go to hell.”

With that, she ascended on the night, leaving everything that she thought was supposed to be her home behind her. The tears she had been holding back to avoid humiliation now falling out of her orbs and rolling against her cheeks. Her feet pedaled faster as each second went by, hoping to get to her destination before it was too late.

Your body twitched at the sound of knocking, eyes slowly blinking to unblur them from the sleep that overcame you suddenly. The movie that you and Steve abandoned still playing through the television while your boyfriend slept soundly beside you with Ollie cuddled to his chest.

“Steve,” you yawned, stretching your arms out and nudging his shin with your foot.

He moved slightly at the contact, groaning out without opening his eyes. Another set of knocks sounded through the front door and this time you were sure it wasn’t the movie playing tricks. Your heart raced instantaneously, not knowing what was real or not.

“Steve, someone’s at the door.” You hissed sharply, letting your arms fall to his chest where you shook him firmly.

His face scrunched up, one eye opening to see you hovering above him looking back at the door, “Baby, it’s just the movie—”

Another set of knocks followed, this time accompanied by a small voice just loud enough to pierce through the wood of the door.

“Are you guys awake?”

Neither you nor Steve could mistake her voice. Instantly worried, you didn’t hesitate to jump up from the couch, startling Ollie who jolted up from his slumber and raced towards the front door where you were already unlocking the latch.

Steve threw off the blankets, blindly shutting off the tv and slapped on the light switch, brightening up the living room with the yellow fluorescence.

You pulled the door open, Steve right beside you as you both were greeted by the anxiety inducing sight of Max all cried out with her bags weighing her shoulders down.

Her cheeks were a bright crimson, which you would assume was from the cold of the night, however her bloodshot eyes told a different story that it was a combination of the weather and crying. Her lips looked frostbitten, almost chapped as the soft teetering of her teeth rang in the wind.

“Hey, it’s okay…get in, c’mon.” Steve ushered, reaching out and grabbing her wrist gently as you opened the door wider and wrapped your arms across her shoulders where you could feel her shivering.

She instantly dropped her bags, letting them rest on the floors as she collapsed onto the couch. Her elbows going to rest on her knees as she covering her face with her hands.

You were next to her in an instant with Steve reaching over to grab the stray blanket, draping it over her body as he sat on the other side. His hands squeezed her shoulders over the thick fleece in order to try to warm her up quickly, hoping she wouldn’t catch a cold.

You caught his eyes, quietly voicing your concern, as he nodded swiftly and looked back down at her. Soft sniffles coming from behind her hands where she was trying to hide it.

Not that Max ever liked crying in front of both of you, but she never tried to conceal it like she had been doing now. It all seemed so odd and out of character for her as she knew you and Steve would always be all ears in a heartbeat and listen to whatever she had to say, but not tonight.

“Max, honey, tell us what’s going on.”

Your voice was on the verge of pleading, not knowing how much longer you go could without knowing what had her this upset that she had to bike all the way here.

“J—just some stuff a-at home.” Her voice gave way.

Stuff at home could mean many things and you both knew that Max and her mother weren’t necessarily on the same page considering how their relationship had faltered with her mom prioritizing work more than raising her daughter.

Steve gulped, rubbing his hands over her shoulders warmly. “You can talk to us, bug. Could’ve called, and I would have come over and gotten you… it’s dark out and—”

She pulled her hands away from her face, swiping her fingers along her cheeks harshly before looking up at the two of you and nodding, understanding your concerns.

“Billy’s dad was over… he came back.” She said dryly, moving her eyes to her lap not knowing how you both would receive it after so long with him gone.

The silence was telling. Clearly the two of you were shocked seeing as though Billy’s dad, Neil, left before his son’s funeral procession, leaving it all up to Max’s mom who was devastated and had to deal with two losses she wasn’t anticipating.

“H-he’s back?” You stuttered, swallowing back your distaste as you kept your focus on the girl.

“He showed up while I was at arcade and my mom let him in and n-now she’s saying that he’s gonna stay with us and I—I just…I couldn’t….I w-won’t.”

And like that, her chest rose nimbly, tears beginning to well in her eyes once again before she could even try to piece together her broken words that already told a story of their own. Hunching over, her face found solace behind her hands again and the cries rattled the walls of the apartment and broke the hearts in your chests.

Steve leaned closer, guiding her into him as support. “Bug, take a deep breath…in and out, you got it. Everything’s alright, we’re right here.”

His hand rubbed her back gently as you cooed more words of comfort. The two of you working together to try to ground her and make her feel as safe as possible. Neither of you took it personally when her cries didn’t die down and only got heavier, a kind of sadness that you knew she was feeling deeply and needed to feel instead of trying to fight back.

If your hearts were just broken by the scene of her so frantic, you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was feeling. Her breathing only got more ragged, struggling to catch it with her mind racing with the flashbacks.

Steve noticed the signs before Max could even fathom them, rising up from the spot next to her, he hurriedly charged towards the kitchen for a glass of cold water and a warm rag before he was back at her side in an instant.

“Shhh…s’okay, let’s get you a sip of water yeah?” His fingers wrapped gently around her wrists, bringing her hands away from her face, as he showed her the glass.

She sniffled roughly, nodding her head as she took the cup from him — the water that had been beading around the surface meeting her hot hands zapped her nerves, bringing her back as she gulped it down. The warm rag rested on the back of her neck calming her down a bit as the hiccuped cries began to shallow out while the seconds passed.

She had nothing to be afraid of when you two were here right beside her. You both had seen her at her worst and even then neither of you left her side. It was going to be no different now or ever, even when she was unsure of it all. She had you both and that was what mattered most to her.

You took the empty glass away, placing it on the coffee table, “You wanna talk about it some more? Or we can talk in the morning if you—”

“He hit me. J—just slapped me once, but still…”

She dropped it like glass, letting it shatter without trying to cushion its fall because there was no way of doing so. The truth was all she had left in her and the sting on her cheek was a biting reminder of what he did and most importantly what she didn’t deserve.

The room was quiet, only Max’s sporadic sniffles and the whirling of the ceiling fan above you filled the heart-stopping silence. So many things spun through your heads, questions that Steve wanted to ask, and answers that you desperately wanted, but all you could muster to say was—

“I’m sorry.” You exhaled at a loss for words, skeptically reaching for her hand as she nodded and slotted hers in yours giving you the permission.

She squeezed yours securely as if she was trying to reassure you, like you were the one who needed the strength as you sat there and broke internally, trying to stay strong when you knew you were moments away from breaking down but that wouldn’t be fair to her — not right now.

Steve pulled his brows together, confusion splaying his features despite the anger brewing inside of him.

“What did your mom do?”

He knew her mother wouldn’t let anything happen like this slide, sure she had taken the hits from Billy’s father herself and watched helplessly when Billy became the punching bag, but she couldn’t have just sat around and watched him do the same to Max.

“Nothing.” Max said quietly, nearly hushed as she did, too ashamed to say it out loud because that would mean that her mom became the enabler of the behavior she swore she’d never tolerate.

The silence was even louder then. More questions wanting to be asked, on the tips of your tongues just pleading to be babbled out, yet you both could tell that now wasn’t the time.

Max was clearly traumatized, put through something incredibly heartbreaking yet was sitting right before you as stoic as ever — not feeling anything inside because she’d been so numb to the feeling of sadness and disappointment for a while now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat to keep from crying though your voice still cracked.

“Y-you’ve had a night. Why don’t you take a hot shower and take our bed tonight? Ollie can cuddle with you, yeah? He’s missed you so much.”

“Please.” she said, nodding at you with a sullen face.

You nodded, standing up and reaching out for her, “C’mon, let’s get you some clean clothes.”

You wrapped your arms across her shoulders, guiding her along to your bedroom in hopes that a goodnight’s sleep would bring her a dream to forget about the real life nightmare.

Steve ran a rough hand up and down his face, sighing heavily as his chest ripped out a quiet sob not knowing how something like this could happen. He’d done everything to protect her to the best of his ability and the one place that should have been her safest, her home, was the place she had been hurt and the one where he wasn’t at to shield her from it.

He tore his hands away when he heard the bedroom door shut softly, followed by your hushed cries that made its way closer to him. He stood and wrapped you in his cages, letting you cry every angry and heartbroken tear you had out.

“H-How could she let that happen?” You tried to keep your sobs down, letting them die against his clothed chest to prevent Max from hearing it, but you couldn’t help but to feel so helpless and frustrated.

Steve could only hold you, cooing away your anguish and wiping the tears away because there was no answer he could give you. Everything in his soul wanted to tell you what he knew and give you all the answers in order to piece it all together, but there was nothing left to piece.

The harsh reality was that something terrible had happened to Max, and no one tried to stop it.

“Everything is gonna be okay,” He told you, holding your face in his hands as he thumbed away the remnants of tears. “She has us and we’re gonna stick by her side and try to make this better.”

It was the only thing in Steve’s soul that he knew right then to be true. You both were always going to be there for her and if it took months maybe even years to right this situation, then you’d both be there every step of the way, no doubt about it.

“I know.”

His lips pressed in a tight line, giving you a firm nod, making sure that you were alright before he spoke, “I gotta go for a little, okay?”

You stared at him confusingly, not knowing where he would be off to at this hour. “Where?”

“Clear my head.” He said it plainly eyes dead set on yours.

You read between the obvious lines, knowing exactly where he was going. There was no use in trying to stop him because you knew he had his mind set on the very thought of making sure things were done right by Max, no matter what it took.

He was her protector and in many ways he would do anything for her — even kill if he had to.

You grabbed at his hand, squeezing it in a stern yet tender manner, “Promise you won’t do anything stupid? Max needs you, you know that.”

To be quite honest, he feels that he needs her more than she does him. Steve didn’t know what he’d do with himself if Max had suffered worse tonight. The slap itself left a bitter taste in Steve’s mouth, but if Max had shown up battered and bruised, he’d be sure that a death wish would be granted tonight.

Despite his anger and the things that he could do to make him pay, there was a way to get it done, and he wanted it done the right way so that Max wouldn’t need to suffer more than she already did.

He cradled the back of your head, pulling you into a hug, nodding his head against the top of yours and placing a kiss there.

“I swear, just… just make sure she gets some sleep, and you, too. I’ll be back in a bit.”

You locked up as he gave you one last look through the screen door, mouthing, “I love you,” before you shut the wooden door and he was jogging down the steps towards the car park.

The second he slammed the door shut, the shouting began as instantly as the salty tears he’d been holding back poured from his eyes. This wasn’t about him and the last thing he wanted was for Max to hear and worry about his own wellbeing when she was supposed to put herself first.

“Son of a bitch!”

He cursed, beating his palms against the steering wheel, breathing hard as he cried, so heated and disheartened at the world because why did it have to be her?

Why couldn’t the universe give it to him?

He could take the anger, he could take the hits, he could take it all and deal with it if it meant that Max got to finally go a day or two without worrying when the next breakdown or anxiety attack was going to occur.

She had already gone through so much and she deserved for it to be over by now.

“She’s okay… she’s okay, c’mon Steven.” He roughly wiped at his face, sucking in deep breaths, talking himself through it.

He started the ignition, his foot pressed firmly on the pedal as he made his way to the trailer park, his mind echoing the faces of you and her — the people he needed to make it back home to safe and sound.

It was a scene, Hopper police car parked out front of the trailer with its driver’s door swung wide open and the vehicle still running, headlights flashing brightly. The neighbors who should have been asleep were wide awake, gathered outside their homes, and rightfully so when there was a ruckus going on.

“Where is he?” Steve demanded loudly.

He didn't even bother to take the keys out of the ignition, placing the car in park behind the police car and hopping out to get his hands on the suspect.

Across the Mayfield trailer lived Eddie and his uncle Wayne, the both of them taking notice of Steve’s presence, aware of how close he and Max were and how he must have known something that the entire park didn’t.

“Fucking shit…” The metal head cursed, throwing his cigarette the ground and calling out to his friend, “Harrington! C’mon man, let the chief handle it!”

Eddie's voice was nothing to him. Steve instead made a beeline for the front door of Max’s trailer, bursting through it, catching everyone off guard. Her mother looked as though she had seen a ghost, Billy’s dad was confused with the intrusion, and Hopper knew that something was about to go down from the death stare Steve was wearing.

The only thing Steve heard in his mind was the voice telling him to get him.

“You son of a bitch!”

Lurching across where Hopper stood, Steve threw a fist in the air over towards the disgrace that sitting on the couch acting holier than thou beside a mother who failed her child.

He hoped it connected, spreading pain across his jaw for payback, yet the arms of Hopper and his friend Eddie encase his effort, hauling him back with all their might.

“What the hell, kid? Are you out of your mind?!” Hop shouted.

The flimsy notepad and pen dropped to the ground, and he hastily grabbed ahold of the boy whose fist was millimeters away from connecting to Neil’s jaw.

“Steve, that’s enough! C’mon, relax!” Eddie attempted to deescalate the situation, knowing it wouldn’t do Max or you any good if Steve left there in handcuffs.

“Did you tell him, huh?” Steve spat, still struggling in the grips, glaring at the two on the couch.

Neil sat up, pointing a finger at him.

“Listen, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you better get—”

“He hit Max.” Steve declared, completely stopping the struggle and moving his eyes towards Hop who stared at him confused, tight grip loosening only so that he could move and look back at the man.

“That true?” He asked, raised brow taking in a sharp breath.

Neil scoffed, turning to look at her mother, who sat emotionless, neither confirming nor denying the accusation, but she was just as guilty as him.

“Chief, I have no idea who this boy is… we called because our daughter is missing.”

He tried to lie, looking over at her mom with the most sincere and worried look that would’ve been convincing had Steve not seen right through it.

The audacity that the man had to call Max his daughter when he was barely even a father to Billy? It only made Steve’s blood boil even hotter, the anger dissipating into something uglier that dared to do more than just sock the son of a bitch in the jaw, but to make sure he never saw another waking day.

“She’s not your daughter, and she isn’t missing. She showed up at my doorstep crying her eyes out after she biked miles to come and tell me and my girlfriend that you put your hands on her and you did nothing about it.”

His eyes skimmed from the man to the woman, who guiltily broke into tears, covering her face knowing that the truth had been unveiled. Steve would have had more remorse for her if she at least defended her daughter and tried to do something to stop it. But knowing that Max stood in that very spot in the trailer almost an hour ago left with no one to help her made his fuse blow short.

The cries of the woman nearly set Neil off, turning back to her with a hardened look on his face like he was silently threating her to shut up before he gave her something to really cry about. Yet with the presence of the other three in the trailer and the neighbors that began growing curious with the shouts — he caught himself whipping his head back to the men, staring indifferently.

They could hear a hairpin drop with how eerily quiet the trailer became after Steve’s admission. Eddie cursed under his breath, closing his eyes as he got filled in on what he missed. Hopper swallowed so thickly, not knowing if he was going to put Neil into cuffs or give him a taste of his own medicine first.

The chief knew something wasn’t adding up when he got the frantic call from her mother. Sure, Max was a rebel at times, but even then, the chief knew that the girl wouldn’t just up and leave in the middle of the night for no good reason.

His daughter was her best friend, and they told each other everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly — granted he never liked to stick his nose in anyone business, but El had always voiced her worries for Max and that stuck with him, especially now.

And Hopper was a father himself, a true and present one. It just didn’t add up that Neil had bailed when his son died and now that he had returned, it just so happened that Max had run away.

Neil spoke lowly eyes shooting daggers through Steve, “You ain’t got any proof,” he started before turning his sights to the one wearing the badge.

“And even if it was, don’t you ought to agree, chief? Children who give their parents lip should be disciplined?”

Hopper and Eddie tightened their holds, feeling the small inch that Steve had moved, ready to lurch once again, but he stayed glued to the floor, knowing neither of them would be letting go.

“Is that why you hightailed it after Billy died? You lost your punching bag, so you decided to leave only to come back and try to make Max your next?” Steve seethed, not letting the fire die out so quickly.

“Shut your damn mouth!"

The man stood, pointing a sharp finger at him, but Hop pushed a hand out, creating distance between the two.

Steve scoffed a sarcastic laugh, eyes squinting pointedly. “Or what? You’re gonna hit me too? You’re a fucking deadbeat disgrace of a father who should’ve been the one in the ground, not your son.”

He knew what he was doing, granted it wasn’t the original thing he had planned to do, but if Steve was right about the kind of man Neil was, it would only be a few more seconds until he would strike.

“Don’t talk about my son,” Neil warned, stepping closer and ignoring the hand and demands that Hop gave him to step back towards the couch.

Steve jutted forward just an inch, smirking because he knew what exactly he was going to say next.

“So I can’t talk about him, but you could beat him to a pulp?”

The pang isn’t as nearly bad as it could’ve been seeing as though Hopper had tackled the man to the floor the second his fist grazed his cheek.

The entire trailer shook with the tussle happening on the ground, cursing flying off the walls as Hopper held his hands behind his back and pressed his cheek roughly to the ground.

Eddie stumbled back, arms remaining wrapped around his friend, wringing his face forward to check for damage. “You good, man?”

“Fine.” He replied, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek, only a slight sting that would probably become a little bruised by morning.

“Shut up, Neil. You’re under arrest for assault.” Hop grunted, clicking on the metal cuffs as tightly as possible.

Even as victorious as it should have felt to see him getting what he rightfully deserved, Steve didn’t feel an ounce of victory knowing that Max had gone through what she went through tonight. At the end, something terrible had happened and now it was going to be about her working through it.

Eddie pulled his friend out of the trailer, fresh air being breathed in followed by the gasps of the onlookers who didn’t know what to make out of all of it. Making their way to his car for some privacy, Steve leaned against the door, rubbing at his face while Eddie stood in front of him, arms crossed not knowing what to say.

“H-how is she?” He dared to ask, wondering if it was too touchy of a subject or not.

Steve looked up, frowning with a shake of his head. “Not so great. Did you hear anything before she left?”

Eddie shrugged, trying to remember anything that stood out, but the trailer park was used to fights and yelling but never to this magnitude. If anything, everyone around there avoided calling the cops as much as possible.

“Just a few shouts, but nothing too clear. Her mom started knocking on every trailer, asking if we saw where she went and before you know it Hop was here.” Eddie replied.

Steve nodded still trying to piece together everything. Both of their eyes trailed back to the trailer, as Hopper read aloud the Miranda rights, walking the cuffed man to the police car.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.” He spoke before throwing him into the backseat, slamming the door to finally silence the hissy fit Neil was throwing.

The man was obviously exhausted. The last thing he wanted to do after he had already clocked out for the day was to drive all the way to the trailer park for some runaway. But when he heard that it was Maxine missing, he couldn’t stay at home knowing his daughter’s best friend was out there, probably scared and alone — the same way he found El.

It hit too close to home, and he was going to do everything he could to get her back home safely.

“She’s still at yours?” Hop called out, walking over to Steve with his notepad out for some info.

Steve nodded, backing off his car to look at his watch. “She should be asleep now, but yeah, she’s got to ours almost an hour ago by bike.”

Hop grunted out a disapproving curse, jotting everything down for the report. He clicked the pen closed, shoving it in his pocked before pointing up at Steve.

“Good. I want you to keep her at yours and I’ll stop by in the morning to ask some questions, alright?”

There was a sort of silent understanding between them both, one that even Eddie could read despite the missing words. They all knew how close Max was to you and Steve, and if she was going to be anywhere tonight, or maybe for a while, it was going to be with you both.

“What about her?” Steve pointed his chin at her mom, sitting on the steps still crying to herself. Hop took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“She’s gonna get an earful right about now, but you should probably go before then.” He advised, knowing that it would be best if Steve weren’t around despite his understandable anger.

All of the mean names and insults that spun in Steve's head and dared to leave his mouth but never did. Honestly, the sight of her crying alone was hopefully the wake up call that she needed to be a better mother, a present one that would pick her before anyone else, even kill for her if she needed to.

“You hurt her you know,” Steve declared out loud, knowing it was the least he could say for Max’s behalf.

Her face hidden behind her hands not knowing what to do with herself. She pulled them away, staring at him guiltily as she sobbed some more. But he didn’t have anything else to say to her and even if he did, he was sure the only words that would leave his mouth would be fueled with anger and disgust.

Eddie garnered his attention, patting the hood of his car gently.

“Go on man, it’s getting late.”

As a friend, Eddie cared a lot about you both. He even had a special place in his heart for the redhead who sometimes fed the strays with him when she was bored at home. It wasn’t often, but it was enough for conversations to begin where Max bragged about having Steve wrapped around her finger, ready to fight anyone who got in her way.

Steve and Max had an undeniable sibling sort of bond that tied them together — everyone could see it.

Max grew up with a step-brother who was dog-shit nothing, and Steve practically raised himself once he turned thirteen. It was clear that the both of them were fated together, a kind of chosen family that not even blood could touch.

“Tomorrow, okay?” Hopper said once more, patting him on the back and ushering him to get in the car.

Steve nodded, offering a kind handshake to both men before he got into his car, and took one last look — all the neighbors heading back into their homes after Hop waved them off, and Eddie wielding another goodbye before he jogged back to his trailer.

The drive home was a stark contrast, no more tears shed or shouts leaving his mouth. Just pure silence as his blood simmered down and his mind thought of you and Max — and of course, Ollie. His little family that he would vow to protect no matter what.

He parked the car, locking it and jogging up the short flight of stairs towards the apartment door. He dug the keys out of his pocket, quietly opening it, hoping to not wake anyone up. But of course, Ollie was already at the door waiting as Steve smiled, bending down to pet him as he shut the door behind him.

The floor lamp was left on, illuminating your sleeping figure on the couch with two layers of blankets pulled over your body. He thanked all the gods in the universe that you were asleep, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good if you had stayed up waiting even if it was out of love.

You knew that Steve would handle things and keep his promise. He always did.

He shrugged his shoes off, propping them on the rack before rounding the hallway towards your shared bedroom where the door was left open. Stopping in the doorway, he let out a sigh of relief, glad that Max was also asleep and safe. All the while Ollie hopped up on the bed, snuggling into her side for the night.

There were a lot of things that Steve was unsure of, so many questions still desperately wanting to be answered, but he knew that whatever was going to happen next was going to be in the best interest of Max.

No more of her feeling like she was second place or her own mother’s second choice. He was going to do everything in his power to give her the life she deserved — full of love and safety.

Heading back to the living room, he lifted the blankets up slowly, squeezing in beside you, doing his best not to wake you up. But it was nearly impossible as you stirred slightly, peeking your eyes open just enough to decipher his figure through the darkness.

“W-was everything okay?” You croaked softly, wrapping your arms around his midsection and pulling him closer to you.

“Yeah," he nodded, kissing your temple as he settled his body into the cushions. “Hop was already there when I arrived and he’s gonna stop by in the morning.”

“Where are you hurt?” You sought, already knowing that Steve was going to try to hide it from you for your own sake if you didn’t ask yourself.

He gulped, turning his jaw to show you where he was hit. “Just grazed me a bit…I’m gonna be fine.” He assured you as your fingertips skimmed over the area, trying to feel for a forming bump.

“Okay,” You took a deep breath nodding as your hand fell away from his face, “Let’s get some sleep…we’ll talk more in the morning.”

There wasn’t possibly anything more that you could’ve asked nor did you want any of the full details of what Steve had done to get things handled. He knew it too — that sometimes ignorance when it came to this sort of situation was bliss to you.

Your focus was on Max, and as long as Steve was safe and sound back in your arms, there was no need to worry about him. Right now Max was the person you needed to be thought of the most — and neither you nor Steve were going to stop doing so.

Max woke early the next morning, rubbing sleep and dried tears from her eyes as she was aware of the sun beating down past the curtains and the voices talking softly down the hall meaning you and Steve were already up.

She tossed around the duvet for a few minutes before mustering the strength to throw them off and let her feet hit the floorboards, taking her to the kitchen.

“Morning,” she croaked weakly, wincing at the pain in her cheek where her fingertips had slid against the skin carelessly.

You and Steve looked over your shoulders. Her sleepy figure taking a seat at the kitchen table and resting her face in her hands. Clicking off the burner, you both quickly gave her your attention.

“Hey bug,” Steve said quietly, reaching over for a clean glass, filling it up with water before he approached, sliding it over to her.

“How’re you feeling?” You sought, taking a seat beside her and smiling gently as she laid her head on your shoulder.

“A bit better. It’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while.” She admitted, with a weak laugh, happy that she didn’t have to endure a night of a loud TV playing or her drunk mother whining about the cable cutting out.

But she’d be lying if she said she was out like a light after she got out of the shower. Sleep didn’t come to her so easily, playing back the memory of what had unfolded and knowing that Steve wasn’t home. She didn’t have to peek out of the living room to know it, but she could feel it in her bones that he had left.

“What happened to you?” Max asked him. Her gut already knowing the answer to her own question, yet she just wanted to see what he’d say.

Steve shook his head, tapping his cheek, “It’s nothing, just a little bruise. I took care of it.”

She couldn’t be upset with him, even if she wanted to. The energy in her body was completed depleted and the last thing she wanted was to act as if she didn’t need the help. Steve was protective of her and she knew whatever he did to “take care of it” was coming out of the goodness of his heart.

“Thanks,” She pursed her lips into a tight line, tilting her head at him to which he nodded.

You stroked the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears as she turned her eyes up towards you.

“Hopper is gonna come over and get some statements about the situation. He said it’s gonna be easy peasy.”

“Will you guys be able to stay in the room?” She crossed her fingers, hoping that she wouldn’t have to endure it by herself.

“Of course,” Steve nodded assuringly, rubbing her arm up and down, “He might bring some other people from the department, but they’ll be in and out before you know it, I promise.”

“Okay,” she breathed, relieved that it wouldn’t be so bad with you both there.

Max had only spoken to the cops one other time in her life — obviously talking to Hopper casually didn’t count. But after the fire at StarCourt, she and her friends were all questioned by law enforcement, even the FBI. They showed her pictures of the damage and asked about Billy and the details of his death.

She went home that day feeling numb as everyone else, not knowing if she’d ever be the same, and to know one’s surprise, she wasn’t. A few days later, her mom had planned out the funeral with the help of Karen and Joyce who tried their very best to pick up the pieces while her mom struggled to deal with the loss of her stepson and the sudden departure of her husband.

Max would never forget that week. So much chaos, heartache, and guilt that would only continue to follow her wherever she went, no matter how hard she tried to get back to normal, it just wasn’t possible, not with the emotional abuse of life that she had endured.

She tried not to think about it so much, knowing that Hopper was gonna make sure no lines were crossed. If anything, the questions would go straight to the point that way it wouldn’t force her to relive every single detail of the night.

The three of you ate breakfast together, her and Steve occasionally feeding Ollie bits of scrambled eggs while you weren’t looking, lightly laughing to themselves as you went on about something that you wanted to do with the kitchen.

After you cleared your plates, she suggested she did dishes, but you and Steve waved her off, telling her to relax and watch some television or read some magazines before Hop arrived.

A little after eight, there was a knock on the door, a firm and loud one indicating that it was most definitely the Chief on the other side. Max switched off the TV, getting up to join you and Steve at the front door, greeting him warmly.

“Hey kid,” Hopper greeted, widening his arms as she grinned and walked into his side, hugging him — hugs from Hop weren’t typical, but she knew it was his dad side coming out and comforting her.

“Hey, Hop.” She patted his back before stepping away and letting you and Steve greet him.

You peeked back out the door to see if any other person from the department would be joining, “Just you?”

He hummed out an ‘mhm’, removing his hat and taking a seat on the couch before pulling out the same notepad and pen from last night.

“Didn’t wanna overwhelm her with too many people 'round. I know it’s a touchy subject, still fresh and all.” Hopper spoke thoughtfully, eyes darting over to Max who was very relieved as she plopped down on the opposite side of the couch.

“Thanks.” Steve nodded, going to sit beside her.

The pen clicked, and Hop jutted his chin out towards the kid, silently asking if she was ready or if she still needed a few minutes to prepare herself to speak about it. She nodded quickly, wanting to rip the bandaid off and get it over with.

“Where were you before you got back home?” He began.

“I was at the arcade with Dustin and Mike. I biked there at 6 p.m., left at 8:30 p.m. and got home at about 9ish.”

He jotted everything down as she went, knowing that while the details weren’t about the scenario that took place, he needed to know everything that had happened before and after.

“And when you got home what happened then?” He proceeded, looking up from the notepad.

Now the hard part, getting into the details that she wanted to bury in the back of her mind and forget. She knew that Hopper was here doing his job and the last thing he wanted was for her to revisit last night, but in order to make sure things were done correctly, he had to get some insight.

You patted her knee encouragingly, while Steve murmured kind words, “you’ve got this,” and “it’s gonna be over soon.”

“I—I noticed a car out front, but it didn’t look familiar, so I didn’t think anything of it. Thought that maybe mom had gotten a ride home from a coworker and they were inside talking, or that maybe one of the neighbors had a guest and they just needed parking.” She explained simply.

“And when you walked in?”

“Neil was there sitting on the couch and my mom was making dinner in the kitchen. There were a few empty beer cans lying around, but they could’ve been my moms, or his…I d-don’t really know, but they were there.”

“Okay,” Hop nodded, pen moving quickly against the paper, occasionally looking up to give the girl a warm look, telling her she was doing great so far.

“How did things escalate?”

“I told him to get the fuck out and that he wasn’t welcomed in our home.” She said bluntly not caring about trying to lay it down easy.

“How did he take that?”

“Not so well,” She shifted, sitting up and swallowing thickly, “for some reason, my mom wanted him to stay, and I kept going on about horrible he treated us—how he treated Billy, and he didn’t like that I was talking back.”

“And it’s from my understanding that he hit you?”

Max nodded, “He slapped me across the cheek,” She turned her face, showing Hopper the side that was hit, though the red hand-mark had waned through the night, “Just once, but it was pretty hard.”

“M’sorry that happened, kid.” Hopper shook his head, huffing out a deep breath as he took it down.

“I gave my mom an ultimatum… him or me, but she didn’t say anything, so I knew—I knew I had to go and leave.” Her voice died with a whisper, hating the fact that repeating the words out loud was just as hurtful as seeing her mom do it to her face.

You and Steve could tell that it was starting to get heavier for Max. The mere thought of retelling what she had gone through was like reliving it again. Steve reached for her hand, giving it three encouraging squeezes.

“S’okay, we’re right here bug, not leaving okay?” You whispered, wrapping your arms over her shoulder, letting her lean it toward you.

“And you biked all the way here?”

She nodded, watching as Hopper mentally did the math of the times, knowing she didn’t bother to check it once she left. “So would you say you left Forrest Hills at about 9:30 and got here at almost 10?”

“Maybe 10:30,” she clarified, “I got tired halfway and stopped for a second to catch my breath.”

“And when you got here?”

“I knocked on the door, and they answered and let me in.” Max spoke gesturing to you both.

Hopper nodded, turning his attention to you and Steve now.

“What was she like?” He asked looking between you both.

You swallowed, going first. “Shaken up, cold obviously, but most sad and shaken.”

“She gets um, panic attacks sometimes?” Steve looked over at Max apologetically, but she nodded, letting him know it was okay to go on.

“S-she said it was just some stuff at home, and it kinda triggered one, so she got her a glass of cold water and warm rag to help calm her down.”

“What happened after that?”

“I told them what happened…about the slap, I mean.” She clarified with the tilt of her head as Hop nodded and jotted it down.

“Got it.”

“A-are we done, now?” She furrowed her brows, shifting a bit in her seat just enough to catch the notepad that was filled with his writing, not even room left in the margins.

Hopper flipped the pad over, clicking his pen shut as he nodded. “Yeah, no more talking about it. Got everything I need to keep him behind bars.”

She let out a breath of relief, sinking into your side as you smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to the side of her head lovingly. You hated that she had to go through this, but you knew it was the process to make sure everything was handled properly and Neil wouldn’t be able to get out easily.

“I’m assuming you’re not wanting to go back?” Hopper proposed, smiling a bit at Max’s comfortability that was visible now that the hard part was over.

Max nodded sternly, looking back at him. “Not if I don’t have to.”

“You guys okay with letting her stay here for a while?” Hop asked you both.

Without hesitation, you and Steve nodded. That wasn’t even up for debate. Your door would always be open for Max no matter what.

“Then it’s best you go back over there, let Max pick up a few things and try to get her mom to sign this.” He reached into his pocket, slipping out a folded piece of paper that he handed over.

Steve grabbed it, unfolding it to read the contents as you and Max leaned over to do the same.

“What is this?” Steve shook his head confused.

“It’s to have you and Steve become Max’s legal guardians. Her mom is obviously still going to be her parent and I doubt she’d sign away her rights, but this is mainly to protect Max. To make sure that she has people she can go to when she doesn’t feel safe at home, and things to get messy with the court and stuff like that.”

“So, we just get her to sign this and then Max can stay with us?” You questioned.

“For as long as I want?” Max added with an excited glint in her voice causing Hop to push out a laugh.

“Obviously, I’d encourage that your mom tries to make things right with you eventually, but I can understand that you don’t want to be near her right now. So yeah, if she signs it, you can stay here as long as you want.”

Max perked up at the thought, sitting up straighter and looking at you and Steve with hopeful eyes — it was as if she was brought back to life for a moment just at the idea of getting to stay with you and Steve.

You smiled softly, rubbing her back, “Why don’t you go get ready and we’ll head out to get this done, okay?”

“Okay!”

As the bedroom door closed, Hopper turned to you both wearing an apprehensive expression, sighing deeply and rubbing his hands together.

“It isn’t going to be easy.” Hopper spoke softly, not wanting Max to hear, “She’s gonna be a little hesitant to sign it, but I gave her a little spiel about it last night.”

“How’d she take it?” Steve wondered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Telling a mother that she isn’t fit to raise her child and that her child was going to be better off in the hands of two early twenty-year-olds?” His forehead creased as he lifted his brows, shaking his head, “She was pissed.”

You rolled your eyes, tsking because she had done this to herself and you had no remorse for her, at least not after what she had done to Max.

“Well, she should’ve thought twice before letting an abuser back into her and her daughter’s home and letting that same man hit her kid.” You retorted sharply.

Hop nodding sympathetically, understanding your indignation.

“I know you’re upset, but you’ve gotta try to make her understand that way Max is put first.”’

Steve rubbed your knee gently, doing his best to calm you down knowing that while you were visibly upset at the entire situation, you both had to see it through for Max’s sake.

“We hear you.” He spoke, giving Hop a grateful look for the time and energy he was taking out of his day to help you both with the process.

“The kids are worried about her…” He revealed with a sigh, “They basically stayed up all night and grilled me when I got back home.”

Hopper didn’t mean to overstep his place and tell El and Will about it before Max had the chance to, but the second he received the call, the only thing he could do was burst through their bedroom door and ask when they had seen her last.

Safe to say that once they were awoken with the news that their friend had runway, they couldn’t bring themselves back to sleep — pacing the living room restlessly as Jonathan and Joyce did their best to soothe them while Hop had drove down to the trailer park.

“Do you think they could by a little later? They just want to check up on her and give her a hug.” Hopper proposed, since it was the one thing El and Will had made him promise he would do for them.

“That’s sweet of them.” You smiled with a nod, “After we head out, I’ll ask Max and have her call them up in advance.”

“Great.”

Hopper left after saying goodbye to you all, wishing you luck on getting the paperwork signed and reminding you and Steve that you guys could give him a call anytime if you needed anything.

The last place Max wanted to go was back to the trailer park, but she knew in her heart that avoiding it forever wasn’t something that she could do considering that she still loved her mom, but right then, she just couldn’t stand to be around her after everything.

You three agreed that you would do most of the talking in hopes of getting the signature on the forms while Max headed inside to pack her stuff. Max had nothing to say to her mother, nor did she have to even utter a work to her — she owed her nothing.

The only thing keeping Max’s hopes up was getting to finally pick up somewhere else, somewhere safer where she knew you and Steve would never put her in danger and give her the home that she was always longing to have.

Her blood started rushing quicker as Steve turned into the park, driving up to the trailer and placing the car in park. She closed her eyes, leaning head back against the seat, taking a few deep breaths attempting to prepare herself to face her mom.

“Hey,” Steve looked back, tapping on the console to grab her attention, “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll be in and out as quick as we can be.”

“You don’t have to say anything at all, just go in there and grab whatever you need, alright?” You added, twisting your body to face her, grabbing her hand gently.

She took a final deep breath, nodding as she glanced out the window, “Let’s get this over with.”

Steve jogged up the steps, knocking firmly on the metal before heading back down with you and Max. It felt like forever for her, hearing her mom’s voice call out from the inside and footsteps moving across the floors, but it was only seconds after the creaky door swung open.

A look of relief washed over her mother’s face, hands resting over her heart as she walked towards her daughter.

“Maxine! Oh honey, I was so—”

Your hand came out, blocking her from getting any closer than she already was, putting distance between her and Max.

“She’s here to get a few things, then she’s leaving.” You said sternly, locking eyes with her keeping your gaze hard.

Her mom looked between you and Steve, eyes wide as she swayed her head puzzled.

“L-leaving? To where?”

“Ours. She’s gonna be staying with us for a while.” You told her, not missing the way the confusion instantly spread to denial.

Max took the opportunity to push her way in, brushing past her mom through the door and making a beeline for her room. She shut and locked the door, quickly moving and grabbing bags to stuff full of the things while you and Steve waited outside.

Max’s mom shook her head, eyes pleading to you and Steve, “You can’t take her away from me. She’s my daughter. Please.”

You didn’t even look affected by her begging, still keeping your composure with your arms moving across your chest.

“We’re not taking her away. She’s picking us, and we’re choosing her. The same way you should have last night.”

Steve had never seen you be so cold as you were being in that moment. It was totally out of your character to act out that way, but he knew this was just as hard for you to do. You weren’t doing this to punish her mom.

You were acting this way because Max needed someone who wasn’t going to just give up on her and let her fend for herself. She had done enough of that already, and with you and Steve there was no need for her to do it anymore.

“Please, you have to know that I didn’t mean for him to hit her.” She reasoned, clasping her hands together like a magical prayer was going to change your view.

“But you did know how violent he could get, and you still let him in. You put your life and Max’s in danger. For what?” You scoffed, shaking your head.

“He said that things were going to be different.” She whispered, furrowing her brows trying to get you to understand where she was coming from.

“And you really fell for it? After all of this time, you would think that you would know better.”

“We could be an actual family.” She said, pointing into the trailer where Max was gesturing to you both that it could finally be a home with a mom and dad waiting for her.

That ticked you off beyond everything she had pervious said. You couldn’t keep your composure any longer, tightening your fists to your sides, doing everything to keep the anger at bay and remember what you and Steve were here for.

“Just stop it!” You yelled louder than you had anticipated, prompting Steve to lay a calming hand on your shoulder, murmuring out for you to take it easy.

“Max doesn’t need anything more than a mother. Someone who is going to put her and her needs first. Not some delusional idea of a family that never existed in the first place.” You retorted sharply, bursting the bubble around that stupid dream of hers.

“That’s not true—”

You pointed your finger at her, nearly seething at that point.

"You dragged her into this town, and you left her to fend for herself when Billy treated her like crap and you did it again when Neil did the same thing. As much as it hurts you to admit, you know you’re not fit for the role. At least not right now.”

You didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it was what she needed to hear and she didn’t even bother to defend herself. Shrinking back, you could see the way her eyes washed over with a sheen of tears, jaw quivering slightly as you went on without missing a beat.

“Do you even know anything about your daughter at all? Do you know that Steve and I are her emergency contacts? He had to drive down there last week for an incident that you should have been there to handle, but you weren’t.” You explained to her, trying to keep your voice low for Max’s sake.

“You’re barely around, and on the rare occasion that you are, you don’t even try to be apart of her life, or even try to scratch the surface of everything she’s been hiding because she wants to protect you.”

You had gotten worked up by then; the anger floating away and instead replaced with pure disappointment for the mere fact that you and Steve even had to be here in the first place. Had she done her job as a mother, none of this would have happened, and she wouldn’t be standing here getting an earful from you right then.

“But you’re her mom.” You swallowed, shaking your head at her sobs leaving her mouth.

“You’re the one who’s supposed to be protecting her, and you failed at that.” You said, letting your voice die, watching as she broke down even more at those words.

You felt terrible for making her cry despite knowing she deserved it. You weren’t an evil person; you didn’t gain anything by making her feel bad about the way she parented, but every single thing you had said played a role in how awful thing had turned out for Max.

Her daughter, a girl going through the most pivotal developmental years of her life, was protecting her own mother who was neglecting her. She could have easily picked up and left long ago, even before Billy died, but she didn’t. She stuck around and beared the weight of everything else meanwhile she was the one suffering most.

“I’m her m-mom��she only has one mom, and that’s me.” She croaked, pointing to herself while the tears ran down her face.

“So if I were you, start acting like it and get your shit together so you can be the one she trusts again. The last thing she needs is forcing herself to live with her only mom who shattered her heart.”

You took a shaky breath, reaching behind you to retrieve the papers that Steve was holding onto. Passing them over to her, you watched as she looked over them, seemingly having no objections any longer.

“Y-you promise she’ll come back home?”

You and Steve looked at each other, neither nodding nor shaking your heads before you finally mustered the strength to look at her again.

“Prove she should first.”

Before you knew it her signature was printed on the pages, the three of you standing awkwardly outside listening for the bustle of footsteps and drawers shutting before finally the door whipped open. Max wobbled as she made her way down the short stairs, keeping her eyes on you and Steve.

“She sign it?” She finally spoke, watching as you both smiled and nodded.

Steve stepped forward, taking the bags from her arms and going to put them into the trunk of his car as you stayed near the porch with Max and her mom.

“Max, I’m sorry.” Her mom sniffled, going to reach out to her before quickly pulling her hands back to her chest understanding that she didn’t want to be touched.

Max looked over her shoulder, staring almost emotionless as she muttered, “I hope you are.”

“I—I’m gonna change, I promise…I’ll be better for you.”

They didn’t share a hug or a kiss on the cheek goodbye, Max simply opted for nod not wanting to keep her hopes too high when it came to her mom. You three loaded back into the car, watching from the rearview as her mom waved goodbye while you all set off back to the apartment.

You met her eyes in the mirror, heart warming at the small smile that splayed over her face, leaving the park without looking back.

“Why don’t we have a day with El and Will, huh? We can go shopping for your new room.” You suggested cheerfully.

A short gasp left her mouth, a little confused and surprised. “My own room?”

Steve chuckled nodding as he glanced back at her for a second. “You’re gonna be living with us for a while, so yeah, you’re own room. We’re gonna turn her study into a bedroom for you.”

“Thank you, thank you thank you!” She bubbled, unbuckling her belt as she reached forward and draped her arms over your shoulders as you and Steve laughed, urging her to buckle back up.

“Give El and Will a call when we get home and then we’ll swing by to pick them up, okay?”

It surprised her just as much as it did you, how upbeat she was despite the events that had unfolded less than 24 hours ago. Perhaps it was just her running on the high of actually getting to stay with you and Steve, but you had a feeling that it was the genuine relief she felt knowing that she’d get to come home to a safe space every day from now on.

Steve had given you the keys to his car, steering you and Max out of the apartment right after you had dropped off all her belongings and she had phoned her friends. The second you made it to the Hopper-Byers residence, El and Will were already waiting on the porch, racing towards the passenger side to greet their Max with the biggest hug in the world.

Joyce even came out, pulling Max into a sweet hug, murmuring even sweeter words that a mother would give her child. A little sliver of your conscious felt guilty that you were depriving Max of that mother-daughter connection that she always wanted, something every girl craves to have.

“Do you want to tag along?” Max extended the invitation, looking back into the car where you nodded with a smile, patting the empty passenger seat that you would hope Joyce would occupy.

And alas, she did, which was a great excuse for you and her to talk about adult things while the kids helped Max pick out stuff for her bedroom. They ran off to the knick-knack section of the thrift store, hoping to find some decor, while you and Joyce sorted through the hangers of curtains trying to find something that would suit her style.

She nudged with her elbow, causing you to looking over at her as a small smile took over her features before she whispered softly, “You and Steve are doing the right thing.”

You inhaled deeply, giving her a shaky laugh as you exhaled. “You think so? I’m honestly a little scared.” You admitted, hoping she wouldn’t think you were second guessing it because you weren’t.

There was just a lingering worry living in the back of your head, wondering if you could actually do it. Without a doubt, you knew that Steve could. He practically handled all six children by himself at one point in time, but you were still new to it. You were always there for all of them, but Max’s situation meant not just being there, but being present and ready to be at her side at any moment.

You couldn’t stomach the thought of her bottling up her feelings and hiding away in her bedroom while you went on unaware of it in the next room over. You didn’t even know what you’d do with yourself if she came home in tears not wanting to talk about what happened before shutting the door in your face.

There were so many things you weren’t prepared for and that was what made you the most scared: the thought of not knowing and it ending up hurting Max more than she already had.

Joyce had been in your shoes a few years earlier, taking in El, a child she didn’t birth, but felt immensely protective over. Though her circumstances were different from Max’s, there were more similarities in the fact that all they really needed was a safe space with people who loved them for who they were.

She reached out, giving you back a comforting rub while you shifted to face her completely.

“They say people are never really ready to be parents and it’s the same way for you guys, but you and Steve are the perfect fit for her.” She said softly, watching as you took in her words with a nod, continuing to listen for what advice she had left to graciously give you.

“She trusts you enough to tell you about everything in her life without being scared that she’ll be in trouble. She chooses you guys because you choose her. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but sometimes things happen for a reason…for the better.”

It was a motto that Joyce Byers lived by, the fact that things happened for a reason and even if it wasn’t the way things were envisioned, it was always for the better. She would have never thought that she would be a single mom of two kids, leaving behind Lenny in order to give her two boys a better shot at living a life without the risk around. But she also would have never thought she’d find love again and adopt a girl like El, who completed her life in so many ways.

Their families meshed together like one without even skipping a beat. It just felt right even after all those years of going through it without each other. When they were finally found on another, it was like the missing puzzle piece finally being put back in its place—a kind of harmony that was difficult to replicate.

You saw it covering her face, the certainty and confidence she had in you to do it.

“I needed that.” You closed your eyes, wrapping her up in a tight hug. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m here for you all, no matter what. We all are.” She reminded you, rubbing comforting circles over your back.

She smiled where you couldn't see, catching Max from afar as she watched on with a grateful look, giving Joyce a thumbs up before running along to find her friends.

You realized that it was a lot of pressure, and right now it felt like the weight of the world on your shoulders to make sure you were giving Max everything she needed, but sometimes it wasn’t as complicated as you were making it out to be in your head.

Giving Max a place to stay and the knowing that she was cared for was already enough for her and all the rest were just extras she was glad to be given by you and Steve.

After a few hours of strolling through countless stores and picking up the right pillows and bedspread, Steve’s car was officially packed to the brim. You weren’t sure how you all managed to Tetris fit everything, but it worked perfectly and by the time you had dropped the kids and Joyce back to theirs, the empty seats were occupied by everything that was once on their laps.

“My arms are dying!” Max huffed dramatically, slogging up the apartment complex staircase as you lingered behind her, trying to catch your breath with each slow step.

“I’m getting too old for this. I should’ve picked the apartment on the first floor instead.” You fretted with the shake of your head, finally making it up to the top with a loud stomp.

You and Max stood at the top of the stairwell for a couple seconds, deep breaths filling the silence as you pressed yourselves up against the brick wall. Then suddenly, as your eyes locked, laughter erupted not being able to take each other seriously over the silly situation.

Despite the cramp that you were surely going to catch in your leg at any moment’s notice, it was all worth it knowing this was going to be a memory you’d both look back on and crack up at.

Taking another deep breath, you tilted your head down the hallway.

“C’mon I bet Steve and Ollie miss us.” You both walked the short way to your front door.

You let your arm’s weight down, bags falling softly against the concrete as you fished the car keys out of your purse, beginning to unlock it. Ollie’s little barks came from behind the wood door, getting louder when you unlocked the screen and finally pushed the second one open.

The second the gap was cleared, the pup excitedly jumped up on his hind legs, greeting you both with a few more barks.

“Oh, hi boy! I missed you so much.” Max quickly stepped through, placing the bags down and going to her knees in order for him to surge into her lap.

You grinned sweetly, bending down to pet behind his ears while you toed your sneakers off, lugging the bags behind you.

“Where’s your dad, huh? Did you keep him company the whole day?” You wondered aloud, mostly talking to your dog who wasn’t paying you any mind with the pets he was getting from Max.

Before you could even call out his name, Steve strolled from the hallway, dusting off his hands as he smiled at the both of you. His hair was slicked back more than usual, which you assumed was because of the sweat that accumulated from all his hard work.

He didn’t tell you much about what he was going to do before you left, just that he was going to fix up the bedroom for Max and get everything in order.

“He did keep me company. In fact, he couldn’t stop following me around, that is until he heard you guys all the way from the stairwell.” He snickered, knowing that Ollie could hear your combined laughter from a mile away, instantly darting towards the front door the second he heard it.

You walked over to him, placing a peck on his lips before pushing past him into the living room in order to get yourself a glass of water.

He turned his attention to Max. “Did you have fun today, bug?” He proposed, scanning the shopping bags, which wasn’t even half of what you had picked up.

She nodded, bringing Ollie closer to her chest as she waddled over to the couch to get comfortable.

“The best day ever! Joyce even joined us and we all got ice cream afterwards as a treat for all the sale findings we did.”

Steve glanced over at you with a suspiciously raised brow not believing either of you could be gone for as long as you were and only have a couple of shopping bags.

You were especially good at finding the items that were somehow always on sale or marked down, which is how you justified every purchase claiming you were getting a bang for your buck—Steve didn’t know if that was always true or not, but who was he to argue?

“I’m assuming there’s more in the car?” He looked back and forth between the both of you.

You gulped down your water, nodding with a wide grin.

“You are correct!” you said, tossing him the car keys that he quickly caught and stuffed into his pocket with a grin.

“Before I lug whatever the hell you guys bought up here, let me show you a surprise.” He announced with the clap of his hands, motioning for you both to following his lead.

Max’s ears perked up, shuffling off the ground and following him closely. “A surprise?”

“You heard that right.”

The three of you stopped in front of your old study, now Max’s bedroom where the door was pulled shut. You and Max had no idea what was behind the door, but you both were excited to see what he was hiding, knowing he could have done anything while you were gone for the day.

In true dramatic Steve Harrington fashion, he shot Max a semi-worried, yet semi-cheery look, placing his hands on her shoulder as if he was bracing himself for a bad reaction already.

“Now Max, if you hate it by all means, don’t be afraid to tell me,” He cautioned.

She glared playfully, flicking his arm in a scolding manner.

“Stop, I’m not gonna hate it!” She guaranteed to him, waving her hands out in the air as in telling him to hurry about revealing it.

“Fine, then…surprise!” He blurted, reaching back to twist the doorknob and press the door open, revealing its interior.

Shock wasn’t even enough to describe what Max was feeling, let alone fathom the work Steve was able to pull together with just a couple of hours. She wasn’t even sure how he managed to get all the furniture, considering he was left without a car all day, but she was sure he had pulled some strings to make it possible.

The rattan bedframe was pushed up against the wall to maximize the space along with a newly packaged mattress laying within it. Beside it was a small two tiered bookshelf that would also act as a bedside table. Even though it was still empty, he was sure all her comics and little knick-knacks would find their home there when she officially got unpacked.

A tall oak wood dresser stood on the opposite side of the room, and while the room itself did come with a small closet, Steve just wanted to make sure there was enough room for her to store all her things. And last, on the adjacent wall, was a small desk that used to be yours, one that you had told Steve to leave in there for her so she could have a spot to do all her studying and whatnot.

The walls itself were bare, Steve wanting Max to have the creative reign to do whatever she wanted with them or if she wanted to paint it a different color, then they could make plans to go to the store over the weekend and pick a few swatches to choose from the.

Steve anxiously waited as she quietly looked around the room, taking it in without saying a word. She hadn’t even seen the room all too much to remember what it even looked like before all the furniture was put in. The only time she would ever come in there was to grab some pens and markers from your desk, but it was never long enough for her to notice how much natural light and space the room truly had.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest nervously. “Do you like it? I know it’s not much, and it’s still kinda bare, but we can—oh!”

Before he even had the chance to discredit all his hard work more than he already did, the young girl launched herself into his arms, hugging him like her life depended on it.

“Thank you so, so much! This means the world to me. You don’t even know how thankful I am right now!”

You clasped your hands together, heart warming at the sight as you watched how slowly the relief covered Steve’s face before being plastered with complete and utter joy for successfully doing something special for her.

To be fair, you were sure Steve could have blown up an air mattress for her, and Max would have the same reaction since it was the utter thought that counted the most—but this was definitely better.

“You’re welcome, Max.” He smiled, patting her back kindly, still reeling from the reaction he had received while you flashed him a big smile and a thumbs up.

“How did you even get this on time?” She finally pulled away, going for the bed and jumping back first against the mattress with the plastic covering crinkling beneath her. “You didn’t even have a car to pick this up.”

Steve beamed proudly, beginning to explain how he made it all happen. “I made a few calls, and I got Eddie to come and pick me up and we were able to go grab it. And Hop was getting rid of some stuff from the cabin and he let me keep some of the furniture for you.”

Surely getting Eddie’s help was the easy the part, the hardest was convincing him to stick around and help carry it all up the flight or stairs. Steve promised to give him a discount on all the tapes he wanted for a full month just for the favor alone—but Eddie could have gone without it, knowing that Steve was doing it not for himself, but for Max.

“Look at you being resourceful,” you half teased, poking him in the arm while he rolled your eyes at your chiding.

Max sat up slightly, arms spreading out towards the both of you as she jutted out her chin. “Come on. Group hug.”

You and Steve laughed, practically toppling into her side when she pulled you both into her, hugging with all her might trying to physically push all the gratefulness she had into it. She was sure that she could never repay you and Steve for all the things you’ve done for her, but if she could hug you both every day and make you feel it, then she would be doing it forever.

“I’m so glad you love it.” You hummed, laughing through it as she hugged you tighter for just a split second more.

“Well, thank you guys again… for going out of your way for me and giving me a place to stay.” She said kindly, patting the tops of your heads before your dog had jumped up, wanting to be included,

“And thank you, Ollie, for letting me crash at your parents’ place.” She cooed with a giggle, placing the dog on her chest where he settled snugly.

“You’re always welcomed here, you know that.” Steve ruffled at her hair, sitting up on his elbow to watching how comfortably Ollie was already liking the new room as much as Max—you were both certain, he would be crashing there every night instead of the living room or at the end of you and Steve’s bed.

After a few minutes of Max taking in her new room and getting spoiled with cuddles from Ollie, she began unpacking all her belongings, starting off with the clothes since it was the easiest to get sorted. You helped her with folding and organizing them in the drawers, while Steve placed all her heavier jackets and coats on hangers to store in the closet.

Once that was done, you all decided to take a break to snack on food, since neither of you had yet to have a proper lunch. But after a full day of being on your feet and having little to know food in your system, you were pretty much out after finishing half a bag of Doritos and a can of Coke.

Your fatigued body sprawled out on the couch where you had settled, claiming your back needed the extra cushion that the kitchen chairs didn’t have. Max and Steve decided to give you a break, doing their best to not wake you as they cleaned up and headed back to the room to finish unpacking and decorating.

It was a bit of a challenge for them to get the plastic wrapping off the mattress without your help, but they managed to find a way—Steve lifting one corner at a time as Max carefully ran the box cutter over the tarp and tugged it away section by section. The fitted bedsheet also gave them a bit of trouble but after 10 whole minutes of fighting the stupid elastic and getting confused on the right corner, it was done and her bed was properly made with the pale quilted bedsheets.

While Steve went to search for screws and the drill, Max occupied herself by filling the bookshelf bedside table with her collection of comic books and magazines. The ceramic jewelry dish she found at the thrift sat on the countertop, filled with friendship bracelets El made for her and some spare hair ties. On the bottom shelf, she shoved her Walkman and headphones into a wickered basket she also picked up at the thrift that surprisingly matched the rattan bedframe.

Some of the posters she managed to pull off the trailer walls without ripping but were bit crumpled and creased from her rushed packing, found their new homes on the walls in a collage like arrangement.

She was sure Steve would laugh and tease her when he saw the Karate Kid, Ralph Macchio, hanging right beside her dresser, but she also knew he would eventually pick her up tape and suggest it for movie night in a few days. She continued on, taping the rest of the posters up before she heard Steve’s footsteps coming back in.

He did, in fact, chuckle a little teasing her a bit at the way he knew she and El had a crush on the actor due to the fact that they screech every time he came on screen and the sole reason that had gone to see the movie in theatres three times in the same day.

Finally, they worked together to put up the hanging shelf that you had found for a deal, but without any instructions. Steve was totally going to lecture you about how no matter how good the deal was he wasn’t an instruction booklet that just knew how to put things together on the spot. But thankfully, this one didn’t give him too much trouble, at least in the beginning.

“How about now?” Steve gently lowered his hands, backing up from the wall with a single step.

With no level in sight, Steve had to continue readjusting the shelf’s position to make sure it was sitting perfectly flush and leveled against the wall. Neither he nor Max was sure how you slept through the shrill of the drill gun going through the drywall, but they were successful—in not waking you up and finally getting on the shelf right after three attempts.

Max tilted her head from where she sat on the floor. “Yeah…yeah, that looks about straight.” She shrugged not seeing it tilt to one side more than the other.

“You sure? I don’t want your tapes to fall and crack.” Steve frowned, stepping back up more to it to see if it was leveled correctly.

“They’ll survive, Steve.” She snickered at his concern, going to grab the small shoe box which contained all her adored belongings.

Her beloved, always on repeat, Kate Bush tapes found their place in a short stack, not too high in case they accidentally fell and the plastic casing cracked. A few drawings Will had sketched up for her, clipped together and stored in a folder for safekeeping. A few of Billy’s items that she kept like the ashtray that was now used to hold her spare change. And, of course, the koala plush that Steve had won for her at the arcade.

But there was one more thing at the bottom of the shoe box—a framed photo of her and her mom, from way back when she was a little girl in California. Her father took the photo, the two of them standing with wide smiles right in front of the Ferris wheel on Santa Monica’s pier.

Trips were always rare since they were on a tight budget, but her dad always claimed it was the perfect excuse to be stuck in traffic together and then get to stretch their limbs by riding all the rides.

The photograph sat at the bottom of her drawer back at the trailer, and she hadn’t even realized she packed it in the haste until now. Steve who had been sweeping up the dust that fell on the floor from the drilling, noticed her unmoving figure staring into the pit of the shoebox.

He set the broom aside, peering in to see as his lips curled up curiously, “What is it?”

Her lips pursed together into a fine line, picking up the frame and handing it over for him to see. Young Max, no older than six, smiling cheekily beside her mother with an ice cream cone in hand. Her front teeth were missing, but she still sported her signature plaits and freckled cheeks—a lot had changed, but still she was the same spunky girl who just got taller and got all her adult teeth in.

Steve looked up, glancing over at her. “Santa Monica, right?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, wondering how he could’ve known without seeing any specific signs in the photo.

“Do you miss California?” He wondered aloud.

Max shrugged her shoulders not really knowing how to go about it.

“Sometimes. I used to miss it more back when we first moved here, but after a while I kinda stopped because I had made friends and it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

Steve chuckled, jabbing his elbow gently into her side. “Until you found about the alternate dimension?” He half joked to which she snorted with a roll of her eyes.

“Obviously…but even then, at least I wasn’t alone.” She said, nudging him back at the memory where he was the one who saved her and her friends during her first run in with those demodogs.

She twisted her fingers through each other, shoulders lifting curiously, “I—I do miss my dad sometimes, though. I always wonder what he’s up to, if he ever misses me or my mom.”

“You don’t really talk about him.” Steve said, tapping his foot on the ground suddenly aware of his limited knowledge on her dad’s side.

She nodded understandingly, knowing she didn’t share a lot about him with other people in the first place. Even El didn’t really know too much about him.

“Part of me wishes I could’ve stayed back with him, but I guess he just didn’t want to bear the full responsibility of a kid all by himself.”

“Did you ever try calling him?” Steve wondered, looking at her watching as she nodded with a small smile, recalling those moments for him to hear for the first time.

“We used to talk all the time when we first moved. He would call super early in the afternoon because of the time difference, and he didn’t want to miss me before I went to bed. He used to ask about my day at school and tell me that he was saving up to come visit…” Her smile faded, eyes darting down sadly.

“But he never did.”

“I’m sorry, bug.” He apologized quickly, hating how he had to ask such questions when she was already going through a lot. He didn’t mean to trigger anything, it was just pure interest to learn more.

“No, it’s fine,” she assured him, shaking her head when she finally looked back up at him.

“I know it probably wasn’t easy for him to see his only daughter get up and leave to live with her mom and her new husband who was practically replacing him. I just didn’t think it would mean he’d stop being my dad you know?”

Max knew Steve didn’t have much of a father's presence in his life either, let alone parents at all. It was one of the many things they had in common, something they were both painfully self-aware of.

Their parents were so far away, literally and figuratively. Steve didn’t even know when was the last time he saw his parents’ faces in person, while Max didn’t know when was the last time she had a proper conversation with either her mom or dad.

At some point in time, they became even more self aware that they had to look out for themselves—Steve obviously realizing this first. He hated to know that Max was essentially going through the same thing he did, and it was as if the cycle was repeating, but in other ways the curse was also breaking.

Steve placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tenderly.

“Sometimes the people we love stop trying and no matter hard we want them to care, it’s not up to us to make them.” He said delicately, hoping his words would travel deep within and stick with her.

He wasn’t always the best with words and by a long shot he felt like most times he never made the most sense, everything getting misinterpreted or coming across the wrong way. And while Max never liked the idea of unsolicited advice, she really appreciated Steve’s knowing he gave some of the best and most straightforward ones of them all.

“Do you think the same thing is gonna happen to my mom?” She wondered, hoping he would have an answer for her, but Steve didn’t want to compare his parents to hers.

Steve shrugged his shoulders unknowingly, not wanting to give her a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ when he could never truly know for sure. “I think one day she’s gonna come around and she’ll make up for not trying as hard as she should have.”

She took a deep breath, thankful for the careful words, before feeling another squeeze upon her shoulder as Steve spoke again, “But for now, we’re here and we’re not gonna stop trying and we’ll never not care for you.”

That was all that she needed to hear for the waterworks to begin. A trail of happy tears pooling withing her eyes as she sunk into him, letting him bear her weight as he hugged her tightly. It was the kind of hug that replaced the words “thank you,” and “I love you,” because the action alone spoke volumes—in fact it screamed it out loud without even uttering a peep.

Steve Harrington and Max Mayfield surely did not share a drop of blood, but what they did was know that they had each other to lean on. He was always going to be that protective older brother who hated to see her grow up so quickly, and she was always going to be that little sister trying to give him the childhood he never fully got to experience himself.

You didn’t let yourself be seen or heard, back pressed against the hallway wall, biting down on your lip to keep you from letting out a weak cry. You had awoken minutes ago, about to wander into her room to check their progress, but hearing their little heart to heart on your way there made you stop in your tracks and listen.

They needed that moment more than you did, and you’d be damned if you cut it short. As they pulled away, you took a quiet deep breath, swiping your eyes gently to clean the teary look before you knocked softly on the door, letting them know you were there as you walked through, letting out a short gasp.

“I fell asleep for an hour and this place is already looking complete!” You said, looking around in amazement.

Max chuckled, gesturing to the walls, “Don’t you like my Ralph Macchio poster?” She wiggled her brows while Steve muttered an “oh god,” under his breath.

You pointed at her with a nod before winking, “Get one of Matthew Broderick and that’ll complete the whole thing.”

Steve pretended to gag as if he wasn’t once a teenager with all the hot bombshells up on his wall. “What do you guys want a shrine of all the heartthrobs or something?” He accused, peering at you both with a comical look.

You pouted, going towards him to ruffle his hair. “If it makes you feel better, I think you actually resemble a little of Matthew Broderick just with better locks.”

“You think,” Steve blinked self indulgently, looking down at himself while you and Max repressed your laughter, shaking your heads at each other.

“Okay seriously though, I need some real food.” You stated, patting your stomach as they hummed in agreement.

Steve checked his watch, realizing how much time had passed and the sun that was setting sooner than anticipated.

“Too lazy to cook.” He groaned not wanting to do more work.

“But too lazy to go out.” Max added, plopping down on her bed.

You grinned, clapping your hands, “Why don’t we order some pizza? I got that coupon in the mail for an extra topping for free.”

“Pineapple!” they declared in unison without skipping a beat.

You laughed, shaking your head at how much they were truly long lost siblings in this lifetime and probably all the other ones out there.

“I’ll go call it in.” You sing-songed, spinning on your heel about to walk out towards the living room as Steve followed behind you.

“Oh!” Max sat up, looking at you both with a hopeful smile. “Can we at the table and use fancy plates and drink Coke out of the nice glasses?”

You and Steve smiled, nodding your heads at the simple request that seemed like such a big deal for her. Whatever it was that she wanted you and Steve would do the best to give to her.

In this lifetime and on this day, it was a neon kitchen filled with the laughter and smiles as you three ate dinner like royalty and the bright sky faded to night before it’d greet her again in the morning.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: hello hello hello sygb lovers -- the new chap is finally here!!! after months and months and months of on and off working on this chapter i finally finished it and i really hope you all enjoy it. i dont write angst as much but getting to dive deeper into max's life has allowed that for me and defintely challenged me as a writer who primarly sticks with fluff. i love writing steve and max's sibling dynamic but i also really love writing steve's gf's dynamic with max -- they both love and care for her so much as if she is their own. i really hope you guys like this chapter and let me know what you think <3

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean

#munsonsreputation #max mayfield angst #max mayfield stranger things #max mayfield fic #steve harrington fic #max mayfield imagine #max mayfield #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #max mayfield fluff #max stranger things #big brother!steve #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #taylor swift x stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction

[yelenasdiary]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a fic with Yelena, Natasha and Y/N. But Y/N is struggling with their family y/n only trusts Yelena and Natasha with how they are feeling with their parents in the end Natasha and Yelena decides to take y/n into their care. 😀

Safety Net

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: After a rather rough argument with your parents, Natasha suggests an idea to Yelena that she couldn’t refuse.

Angst | Comfort | Reader is 16 | Mentions of Child Abuse, nothing extreme | Mentions of Homophobia | Mentions of Parents being Alcoholics | 1K | 

AC: I hope this was something you were after, enjoy x

"Calm down love, I can't understand you, what's happened?" Natasha frowned with concern as you cried your heart out to her over the phone. You'd just gotten into a rather nasty and heated argument with your parents once again. Ever since you took the chance to come out to your parents about your sexuality, things haven't been the same. Not that you'd ever say you had a normal family life. 

There were times where your parents were so drunk during the day, they didn't bother to cook dinner or even give you some money to order take out. Due to their need to drink every day, it was almost rather they went grocery shopping for food which is how you ended up eating meals at either the Avengers compound or at Yelena's shared apartment with Kate. 

"They're kicking me out!" you finally managed to say through your tears. Natasha looked at Yelena who was enjoying her bowl of mac n cheese before your destressed call. "I'm coming to get you, where are you?" Natasha replied without a second thought. 

----

After letting you explain everything through your sobs, Nat ran you a warm shower and lent you some of Yelena's clothes for sleepwear before holding you closely until you were asleep before she went to speak to Yelena. 

"Are they okay?" Yelena asked, Natasha was always better at handling the super emotional things which is why she kept a step back tonight and waited for Nat to give her an update. 

"They're 16 and just been kicked out of home because of their sexuality, they're as good as can be right now but I think we should have a serious chat" the red head sat down in the armchair across from the sofa that Yelena was sitting on. 

Yelena nodded, seeing just how serious Natasha was. "I think we should foster them, they're basically already in our care and I can't let them fall through the cracks of the system" Natasha explains, "it would mean you and I would have to get a house and prove that we can provide a suitable home for them. We'll get help from the others but if you don't want to do this, I truly unders-"

"I'll do. They're like a younger sibling Natasha. I want them out of harm's way and you and I both know they're better off with us" Yelena interrupts her sister. Natasha could help but smile softly and give the blond a lit nod. It would be a tough journey, but they were both more than willing to make it happen. 

----

Yelena and Natasha came with you to pick up your belongings from your once family home, you felt a lot safer knowing they were there and for once there wasn't an argument between you and your parents, maybe it was because they were too drunk to even care that you'd come home, or they simply were just too angry to talk. It hurt you deeply and the two assassins saw that but knowing you had the by your side, it helped ease the pain. 

In the coming months, the foster care agency was aware of your situation and had long, deep conversations with both Natasha and Yelena about your welfare and how best to help. The women had brought a house just outside the city, close enough to your new high school and to help make the older women look good in the eyes of the agency, you found yourself an after-school job and even kept your studies up. 

It was more than clear that you were doing extremely well in the care of Natasha and Yelena but of course in situations like these, the agency always likes to try and reunite the child with their family. Your parents were ordered by the courts to go to AA meetings and remain sober in order to have you back in their custody. It wasn't easy although you felt that your father was really trying his best to recover but at the end of the day, their love for drinking wasn't the only thing that drove you away from them and it was more than clear to you that they would never accept your sexuality. 

"Hey, how was your visit today?" Yelena asked as you slumped down on the sofa, grabbing the TV remote. Once a week you would have supervised visits with your parents, you hated it but until the court hearing, you had to do it. 

"It was fine" you sighed, wanting to ignore the conversation but Yelena wasn't giving up that easily. 

"Just fine?" She questioned. 

"I don't know what you want me to say Lena!" You snapped, "I go have coffee with my parents once a week and listen to how 'great' their doing with their AA meetings and how much they only now miss me! They don't ask me how I am, what I've been doing or if I even want to go back to them. I hate it, they don't care about me and only see me because they have too, and I just want to tell the judge I don't want to do this anymore!" You added in a burst of anger. 

Yelena wandered over to you and sat beside you, "I'll talk to Natasha. Maybe in time your parents might come around and even if they don't. You will always be family to Natasha, myself and everybody around you. We'll never let anybody hurt you again, trust me, I don't think I'm ready for you to start dating either" Yelena's comment made you chuckle, lighting your mood just a bit. 

"You're sounding like an overprotective older sister; you know that, right?" You looked at her with a raised brow. "I've always seen you as a little sister" Yelena admits. You didn't tell her in the moment, but those words meant more to you than she'd ever understand. Even if your parents never came around, you knew you had a real family right here. A family that loved you, accepted you, cared for you and would do anything to make sure you were happy and okay.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @observeowl | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @imnotslouching | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @natsxwife | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @shibugs | 

#fanfiction #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #Yelena Belova x reader #black widow

[thenighthekate]

Heyy, I love all you write!! Would you please write something with the song ‘without me’ by halsey, maybe one of them cheated on reader and now it’s trying to come back, but reader it’s playing hard to get, making them suffer a little. Thank you

Tell the truth ( t.k. )

Would you care if we quit talking? Would you care if I went walking? I need to know how you feel so I know how to deal.

The past few weeks she felt numb, angry, confused at the man who fucked her over. She never thought something like this was bound to happen, she thought they were happy together. Memories fade, anagapesis lingers, a love once cherished now lost in the rivers.

The environment around her buzzed with a sea of people, some dressed in suits rushing to get their coffee break, others sitting with families and friends at the tables. She was comfortably seated on the patio, sun shining above her as she sipped on her latte, her fingers wrapped around a pen scribbling in her notebook.

She felt calm. After days spent crying in the comfort of her own bed she finally got the courage to go out, breathe fresh air and possibly even socialize.

Her eyes were shielded by the glass of her sunglasses, her mind turning gears to make the words on her paper rhyme. The girl was focused on the task in front of her; she didn't even notice a shadow looming over her figure, the visibly tall person soon taking a seat at her table. Her eyes shifted from her notepad, a look of confusion forming on her face before it melted into nothing. No emotions were revealed as her eyebrow twitched to question the person.

Silence indulged the two as they stared at each other, the girl yet again slowly taking a sip of her coffee. " I haven't seen you in a while." His voice was oddly soft, laced with sweetness as it showed none of his true intentions. An uninterested sigh left her lips, her focus soon turning back to writing. " Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what-"

" Don't want to hear it." She dragged out her words with a fierce tone, like a mother grounding her disobedient child.

" No. Listen, it was a mistake and a total misunderstanding." He was slightly crouched, his eyes for a brief moment closing shut as he shook his head.

" So stealing my ideas, my lyrics, then fucking some other bitches is a misunderstanding to you?" Her finger wrapped around the brim of her sunglasses to slide them down, fire swirling in her irises as she shot daggers at him. Suddenly she placed the paper down along with her pen, Tom getting a clear view of everything she had written down. " You could be a bad mother fucker," she paused, looking him directly in the eye before continuing, " but that does not make you a man." Grabbing her stuff she slid out of her chair, standing tall on her high heels she was ready to disappear from his life forever.

It happened quickly, his hand reached out to wrap around her arm before her palm collided with his cheek, the loud sound and sensation traveling all over his body. " Don't touch me," her arm flailed out of his grip, her manicured finger pointed directly at her chest, " I put you up there, and you decided to abuse that power. It was me who made you what you are," her tone shifted, a shield of glass broken, replaced by glistening tears, " you used me."

" I'm sorry." Tom's expression matched hers, his eyes searching for her own. " Please. What can I do?"

Yet again it was quiet. She softly licked her lips while slowly shaking her head, her mind not believing what he was saying. " How about you tell the truth, to everyone. The guys and the media included." She turned to leave before muttering under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear. " And drop every single one of those bitches."

#thenighthekate #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

What gets me with Vel is that we see she has a good rapport with her coworkers/friends. She may sometimes roll her eyes at the other two and their antics and of course when her direct business gets interrupted she gets frustrated, but we mostly see her on good grounds with the rest of the Vees. They respect her when it comes to serious business and in that last scene of the season they all look to be very much on the same page and in it together, smiling about their future... yet fanon (if it isn't infantalizing her as you've pointed out) is constantly projecting "angry black woman" stereotypes onto her.

It's gross and in my opinion clearly racially motivated that they see her as nothing more than a "bitchy" woman of color. While the fanon I've seen also has separate gross issues with Vox and Val they are at least allowed some nuance on occasion, but I just don't ever see that with Vel, she's just an angry woman rendered to the background in their eyes stripped completely of her professionalism, intellect, and cunning. She's one of my faves and it sucks so bad to see.

Hi. :) I wrote 5 paragraphs in response to this question and Tumblr so graciously decided to delete fucking all of it. :)

The Hazbin Hotel fandom has a serious racism problem and not enough people are talking about it. Aside from the infantilization of Velvette, other BIPOC characters are put into stupid stereotypes or treated like children because either Vivzie can’t handle writing competently or the fandom doesn’t know how to behave themselves. This is especially apparent for the women, but—and this is probably the only time I will talk about him in this way—Valentino is also suffering from this shitass issue.

Firstly about Velvette, just like how this said, Velvette used to be treated like a child in canon (now fanon) and is being portrayed as only a sassy angry black woman by the fandom. This is disgusting! I don’t think I need to say that! For some reason (misogyny) the Hazbin fandom just has this thing where they take a POC person or a woman—usually both—and decide to treat them like a child. Best examples being Niffty and Velvette being portrayed as Angel & Husk’s and Vox & Valentino’s children. Niffty is 22 and Velvette is in her 30’s. And of course they are both POC. I know there’s going to be someone accusing me of just whining about racism or being like “not everything is about race” but shut the fuck up because I’m busy talking.

I think the best scene to depict Velvette’s character—even though she hardly has any scenes. It shows that she will and can respect her colleagues but for other people, you either need to give her something she wants or her respect needs to be earned. She literally sings a whole song about it.

For other characters like Niffty I have a post for her in the works so I won’t spill it all here, but I can’t in good faith talk about the racism problem without mentioning Valentino. The fact Vivzie has made her worst character into the basic tall hot hispanic/latino man with the hot spanish accent stereotype. Honestly this sort of stereotype doesn’t bother me much, there’s a few villain characters I like with it like Alejandro from TDI, but Vivzie making this a big aggressive and dangerous POC person abusing a sad little white guy just grosses me out. It’s not like the situation would be any better if Angel wasn’t white, but it really does just leave that extra sour taste in my mouth.

Also I don’t need to explain why 90% of the POC cast being fucking grey or purple or blue is bad right.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #tw valentino #cw valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette #hazbin vees #hazbin valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #hazbin niffty #niffty hazbin hotel #niffty #tw rape mention #cw rape mention #cw sa implied #tw sa implied #tw sa mention #cw sa mention

[criminalmindswhore]

Family Affair Ch. 1

An Emily Prentiss x Reader story that will be angsty. TW: mentions of violence and murder, homophobic parents and people, child abuse You stumbled into the BAU not prepared to see your family on the screen. What happens when the family you left behind is dead and your new one is responsible for catching their killer?

You were born into a family where love was earned. Perfection was expected and if it wasn't perfect, it wasn't accepted. You did every extracurricular activity possible to please your parents. Theatre, track, singing, Honors Society, but it was never enough. Even when you graduated top of your class at Yale and then got into the academy. The day you left for Yale there was a huge blowout fight which resulted in you being cut out of the family. 

"Dad I don't want that life. I don't want to come back to this town with the same rude people and run this business." You threw your last bag into your car and slammed the door. Your dad hot on your tail as you walked back inside the house. "You don't have a choice. You either do that or don't bother coming home." You came to a full stop in the entryway, taking a deep angry breath. You pressed your fingers against the bridge of your nose. Your dad sighed, "We love you Y/N and we want what's best for you." You turned towards him and scoffed, "What's best for me, isn't in this run-down town." There was a lingering sadness between the two of you. You knew you couldn't continue to let them treat you this way, and he knew he was losing you.

 "Dad, I need to move on. I can't live in this house anymore it's full of pain for me whether you acknowledge it or not. Kate and I both see it. Mom sometimes does." Your voice softer, almost scared of his reaction. He stood with his arms crossed and feet planted firm, you continued, "Everyone my age hates me, you hate me, there's nothing here for me anymore." Your dad was set off by this, "We don't hate you Y/N! If we did we wouldn't have let you go to Yale and offer to pay for your groceries while you're there." You took a step towards him, "There was nothing you could have done to stop me. I'm on a full ride and I don't need your help." He shoved past you, "You're never gonna make it past freshman year." You paced through the space ranting, "I have been nothing but successful my entire life, what makes you think I can't handle it? Because you won't be there to yell at me or hit me when I get a 97 instead of a 100? Because you won't be there to force me to go to church? I have made something of myself from nothing with no support from you. You have never said you're proud of me once." He grabbed a beer from the fridge, he was yelling now, "I did so much for you! I'm the reason you were so successful!" You scoffed at him, "The reason I'm successful is because I feared for my life when I wasn't. That's not helping, that's trauma. That's why I never told you guys about her." 

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. He stopped walking around and looked at you, your blood ran cold with fear. "Her?" Your brain went blank, you couldn't think of one thing to say to save yourself. "I knew you were one of them. Get out of my house and don't come back." 

Your alarm blaring in your ear jolted you from the most amazing sleep you have ever gotten. "Fuck this." You turned it off and groaned as someone knocked on your bedroom door. "Come in!" You rolled over in your bed now face down in the pillows. "Good morning sleepyhead, I made us coffee and breakfast for the road now get up." Your roommate Garcia threw a throw pillow from the couch at you. You picked your head up and glared at her, "What the fuck Pen?" She smiled at you, already wearing a full face of makeup with her rainbow robe. She closed the door and you rolled out of bed. Dragging yourself into the shower. You loved your job but there was nothing you loved more than sleep. For some reason, your parents were heavy on your mind during your shower. You haven't spoken for nearly 7 years. Your last conversation on your college graduation day. They called to tell you they wouldn't be attending followed by some dumbass excuse. Not that you really wanted to see them anyway, it had been 4 years at that point. Now you were in the FBI, working towards your doctorate. After making yourself look put together and professional you trotted into the kitchen where Pen was sitting waiting for you while she read some new romance novel. You grinned at her music choice this morning, Lana Del Rey. You grabbed your Yale travel mug from the cabinet pouring coffee into it. You turned to Pen, "You ready miss thang?" She giggled, "Y/N you gotta stop flirting with me or Morgan's gonna have some competition." She stood up grabbing her purse and coffee cup. 

The energy was off from the second you two stepped off the elevator onto the BAU's floor. Hotch was standing at the glass doors waiting for you. The team already gathered in the round table room. Hotch pulled you aside and told Garcia to join the team. She shot you a smile before trekking up the stairs. "Hotch what's going on? Is this about me using the word soggy in the report? I couldn't think of a better-" "No Y/N, it's about your family." Your heart drops to your stomach, you suddenly feel weak. "Hotch, don't tell me." Tears sprung in your eyes, all he did was look at you with sympathy. You took off into the round table room, "Y/N don't." You dropped your coffee seeing the pictures on the screen. Images of your parents dead, hands missing. Everything was spinning and the team sprung into action. JJ clicking off the screen, Emily standing up to grab you. Garcia grabs your bag from your hands and picks up your cup. "No, no, no, no." You kept repeating yourself slowly sinking to the ground. Emily was holding your waist to safely lower you down, "Y/N look at me, look at me." You looked at her face and she grabbed your hands once you were safely sitting. "Breathe, force the air in." You didn't even realize you hadn't taken a breath. 

After a few minutes you had calmed down, swallowed your feelings, and stood up. "What happened." You demanded rather than asked the team. Hotch went to speak up, "Y/N you don't want to-" "Aaron, tell me." You glared at him. You knew that town better than anyone in the room, they needed you still and everyone knew it. He took a deep breath, "Found this morning in one of their restaurants by your sister. Hands are missing which is why we were called in. Cause of death is a bullet to the head." No one spoke as you processed. You swallowed the bile that was creeping up your throat and took a step towards Garcia looking for some kind of comfort, she understood and grabbed your hand. "There's a lot of hunters in the area, they would know how to take the- um, hands. My dad was well-liked in the community, and the same with my mom. I wasn't but I haven't been back in over 10 years. My sister never left, she went to community college and then started working for my dad. Is she in protective custody?" Hotch nodded. "Y/N you aren't allowed to work this case but we will be using you as a resource. Wheels up in 10." Rossi gave you a long, tight hug on his way out the door. The team knows you aren't huge on touch so they all gave you a shoulder pat. Other than JJ who stopped in front of you, "Can I give you a hug?" Her voice was full of sadness, and you nodded. She wrapped her arms around you in the Y/N." 

You sat on the jet at the table, Emily beside you, Hotch and Rossi across from you. You were listening to them throw around theories and you filled in with information about the people and town when needed. You weren't completely present, memories of childhood flashing in your head. The bad was taking over the good and you were struggling to find reasons to be sad. You felt psychotic sitting there looking for something good to miss about them. Sure you always wanted them to say they were proud of you, or come to your wedding but the chances of that happening, alive or not, were slim to none. 

Emily placed her hand on your knee sensing the turmoil in your head. Hotch's voice brought you back to the jet, "When we land Morgan and Reid go to the crime scene. Rossi and JJ I want you to go to the medical examiner, Prentiss, and Y/L/N will go with me to the station. Y/N your sister is waiting for you there." Everyone nodded, a thick tension in the air. No one knew details but they all knew you left and never looked back. On top of your parents being dead, they all knew coming back was going to be a lot for you. Emily softly spoke, "Y/N, don't bottle this up okay? We understand it's okay." She gave you the softest, sweetest smile. The last thing you needed was the crush that has been brewing for over a year now to fuck with your head but at this moment you could almost feel love coming off her words.

You walked into the station and spotted her immediately, dropping your bag on the floor and running to the room she was in. "Y/N!" She jumped up and wrapped her arms around you. "Hi, Kate." You pulled her close to your chest. She shook with sobs, from the sadness of losing your parents and because she missed you so much. Tears finally slipped from your eyes, "I'm so sorry I left you behind Katie." She pulled away from you and wiped your tears, "Shut up dude. I told you to." 

"Y/N please go to Yale. I will be okay, I promise. Dad hasn't laid a hand on me in almost a year. You know I can handle this." She sat up to look at up you from the end of the bed. The two of you were lying in opposite directions on your bed, your room packed up into boxes around you. "I just don't want you to have to do this alone," you spoke honestly. She crawled on the bed to lay beside you regularly, "I won't be alone, I have my friends and the dog." She smiled at you, a sadness in her eyes. "I will miss you but you worked hard for this. You deserve to get out of here, god knows I won't. One of us needs to escape." It was your turn to glare at her, "Don't say that, you'll leave this fucked up town too." There was a comfortable silence around you two as you soaked up your last night together. 

You smiled at her, happy to have your little sister in your arms again. You pulled her back to your chest, "I'm so happy to see you again loser." She giggled. She sat down on the couch again, pulling her sleeves over her hands. "Y/N promise me you guys can find the person that did this." She looked at you with pleading eyes looking for answers, you sat beside her. "My team is the best, they will find them. I promise you." She sniffled and swallowed. "I don't know what to even do. Obviously, I'm sad but with our childhood, it's hard to process this." You nodded, "Trust me, I understand. I felt like a crazy person on the plane ride here. I don't think there's one way we need or should feel right now. It's gonna take time to figure out how we feel, but I'm here now. We'll figure it out together." She smiled slightly before a tear slipped down her cheek. Kate reached out to grab your hand, "I'm really glad you're here Y/N." You shivered, "I have mixed feelings." 

Just as you started to feel less horrified of being here there was a knock on the door, and you heard a voice you haven't heard since senior year of high school, "Y/N, can we talk?" You turned on the couch to see Amber Jones standing at the door, badge dangling off her belt. You nodded, patted your sister on the knee, and stood. Prepared for the conversation you've avoided for a decade. 

#emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminalmindsxreader

[nardos-primetime]

RANDOM WRITING BECAUSE I CAN'T SLEEP.

"You gonna throw us away too?"

Tw//Mentions of child neglect/abuse, overall bad times all around, angst hours, Leo has a bit of a melt down

(Damn the Draxum's Side ideas go crazy in my brain I don't even know if this Canon or not yet I just wanted to cook. Aka this is barely proofread and I haven't slept we run on willpower alone.)

Leo hates the concept.

After all the work they've done, accepting Draxum, Baron-fucking-Draxum into their family, they learn about this. This... bullshit. That's all he can really call it after all, bullshit.

"And you didn't tell any of us?" Splinter asks.

"Drax, we said no secrets!" He can hear his younger brother's voice crack, choking on his words.

"...I had forgotten. It was not my intention and by the time I'd remembered I didn't want to—"

"To what?" Donnie pipes up from his right side. "You break any established law of yokai morals once again, and given the chance to fix things, you lie, and you hurt people? Real great work on your redemption, Buddy, ten-out-of-ten."

"Donnie—" Raph reaches out to calm the other

Leo stops his hand, raising his head to glare at this poor excuse of a family member he foolishly, so fucking foolishly let in. "You threw them away."

"It..."

He looks around the room. Playing stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. That's all any of this was, it was just Draxum playing stupid to get an easy way back in. He could've reformed himself just fine on his own if he really meant it, but no. No. He had to use Leo's little brother to carry himself right to the manhole of their warm fucking family with NONE of the struggle involved.

"—it was my intention, yes."

"Oh my God, Draxum," Mikey drops the familial remark they normally use as his arms slump.

"How old were they. And you threw them away."

"They... physically... they had just gotten towards the ending of their toddler years... it... it was some months ago, you will have to forgive me..."

"So you forced them to grow faster with mystics?!" Donnie blurts, Draxum tries to speak again. "No, I don't CARE! I don't care if you know more about it. Do you know how that looks?! You know we know they wanted you arrested for your experiments, WHY would we trust you to say it was healthy!"

"You gonna throw us away too?" Leonardo crosses his arms.

"Of... of course not, you're like sons to me! I... I've appreciated all you've done despite my... former actions, and I—"

Splinter turns to him and shakes his head. "Do not speak," he whispers as he looks at Leo. It makes his skin crawl to see that pity in his father's eyes.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. I heard them, they called you dad! You're a piece of shit, they NEEDED YOU!"

He walked into their lives with none of the fucking struggle and has the fucking gall to act like he's sorry. Like he knows. Like he had a father who fell into disrepair when he needed him. One that broke down and left to snore while you and your brothers took care of each other.

His face scrunches up, and his chest hurts. "You two fucking deserve each other."

"Leo, Leo, no—" Mikey wipes his own face.

"You two are the perfect duo!" He laughs, for some god forsaken reason he laughs. "One didn't care enough to help his kids train for basic life and the other seems to have fucked up so bad his kids want him DEAD!"

"Leo, no! Dad's sorry, we know he's sorry, he loves us!"

Why's Mikey defending Splinter? Why's he of all people defending Splinter?! He was the youngest! He needed him the most when dear old dad became too tired to cook or play or get clothes or do anything. Mikey was at the most risk!

He... he was too young, that's it! That had to be it because that's the only way any of it made sense. "You don't remember shit, Mike."

Silence.

The guilt tries to ping up from his stomach and his lungs, squeezing his organs just enough to make him feel nauseous as soon as the words leave his mouth. It just makes him angrier. He doesn't know why, but he's angry. He's so angry.

Things were finally coming back.

They finally had a functioning unit! And Draxum had to—

"Leo, you need to apologize."

Who said that? He can't tell, and you know what? He doesn't care. There, he said it! He doesn't fucking care for once! Leonardo Hamato DOESN'T FUCKING CARE BECAUSE NOBODY CARES-CARE-CARED -WHATEVER ABOUT him.

"I don't need to do anything you guys say. Y-you're just making shit up at this point!" He cares.

"Leo, calm down."

He cares because it's not fair.

There's a hand on his shoulder and it feels gross. Irrational. There's a part of him that knows this is all so Irrational as he shoves it away and throws himself back.

He cares because sometimes he wondered if Draxum would've been attentive. If Draxum would've filled that void in their family. If maybe he'd reached out to Draxum's offer, he would've been valued.

"Leo!—"

But he's gonna do everything again.

"Get away from me."

And only Leo can see that.

"L-Leo?"

He scrambles to get up as he tries to grab the handle of one of his blades. "Get away from me."

Stupid voice cracks.

It's so stuffy in here. His stomach hurts and memory after memory is hitting him far too quickly for him to process. He thought it got better, he thought it was all better now. He thought it getting better was enough he, thought he didn't have to bring anything up and it would all go away he thought he thought he thought.

Since when the fuck does his thinking ever result of anything good, anyways?

He stumbles onto his feet and holds the blade out.

There's voices behind him, he can't differentiate them and frankly he doesn't fucking want to! He kind of wants to feel bad for once. That's so gross, he's so selfish. What a baby. Why's he so beholden to his emotions? They don't even make sense! If he leaves he'll get all numb again. He won't have anything to give him a sense of purpose but God he's going to throw up if he stays here.

He thinks of anywhere but here. Anywhere but here in this hellhole he fucking loves so much because it's his home and it's all he's really known. He thinks about anywhere but his family, the man who tried until he totally suddenly "couldn't", his brothers who fucking hate him and they should why wouldn't they he's having a hypocritical meltdown like a baby over shit that happened years ago that nobody else cares about!

And the man he finally called dad yesterday.

Anywhere. But. Here.

He hears one last thing as he throws himself into the warm light of the portal.

"We love you."

For a second, he forgets to tell himself not to look back, but it's alright. He can't see anything through his tears anyways.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt au #rise leo #rottmnt leo #rise donnie #rottmnt donnie #rise mikey #rottmnt mikey #rise raph #rottmnt raph #rottmnt baron draxum #baron draxum #rise splinter #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt angst #draxum's side of the family au #rottmnt fanfic #i guess that too #Writings

[juicyflawless25]

Capillaries Are Bursting (Ch.1)

Summary; Larissa is in a terrible marriage, one that she was forced into to make her reputation and her family's reputation look better. She never wanted to be married to a man, but was given no choice. Instead of living the life she wanted to live, she serves under a husband that clearly doesn’t even love her, much less cares anything about how she feels. Larissa finds herself in a predicament when she begins to have feelings for the nanny of her child. What happens when the nanny shares the same feelings and finds themselves in a situation that could put them both in danger?

Notes; This is going to be a no magic, no shapeshifting kind of fic for Larissa. The song Labour by Paris Paloma (which I highly recommend) is what has inspired this fic. It's going to be angsty, and it's going to make you angry, but I also hope it makes you hope for true love. There will be warnings of abuse, patriarchal ideologies and just general bullshittery. I don't know how long it's going to be, but I do have some plans. As always, I'm open to criticism and words of encouragement. Please let me know if you'd like more of this. Link to a03 is in the title.

Deirdre Face Reference ; Maria Doyle Kennedy (cause she's wow)

A marriage of convenience. A merging of houses. A woman put in her place at the hands of her father. Love was not a part of Larissa Wems’ marriage. No, she had been pawned off at the age of eighteen, her father giving her to a man ten years older than her. Why? Well, Larissa’s family and her soon-to-be husband’s family would benefit greatly from the two coming together. Money was involved, as it always was in the inner circles of the rich. Larissa could never understand how one’s parents could place their child in an arranged marriage, choosing their love of money over their daughter’s happiness. But alas, that was exactly what was happening.

The day the news had been given to her after years of being told this was how it would be, Larissa had felt her world shatter. She had always daydreamed of having someone she loved dearly, being close with them, and knowing their ins and out’s before marriage was even discussed. And a secret she had kept to herself was the fact that she wished for her love to be a woman. Men were of no interest to Larissa, they never truly had been. While growing up, she had envisioned having a woman by her side, holding hands and taking care of each other as a true couple would. It seemed, however, that no such fate was in the cards for her.

What could she possibly know about being a wife, especially at the age of eighteen? How was she supposed to take care of a man when she wasn’t even completely sure how to take care of herself? Larissa was still figuring out who she was, and who she wanted to be. There were so many questions she had unanswered, so many thoughts swirling in her head about what she wanted her life to be. She knew without a doubt that she cared not for being a wife to someone she didn’t know, much less a wife to a man.

Her parents had no clue of this, however. She had never felt safe enough in their presence to express anything she felt deep down inside. Her entire life they ridiculed her for everything they could think of. There was never a time when they approved of anything Larissa deeply enjoyed. They taught her to be prim and proper, to be a true lady. True ladies didn’t show too much emotion but always had a smile on their faces. True ladies listened to the men in their lives and obeyed when they commanded. True ladies kept their backs straight and their faces forward, giving an air of confidence, but not too much. Nothing could be too much, nothing could overshadow any man in their lives. Larissa spent her whole life being told that men were superior and women should know their place. It was torture. 

The day Larissa was given the news of her being betrothed to a man was the very same day she had met him. He was nice enough, even if a little overbearing. He smiled at her, bowed, kissed her hand, and behaved like the perfect gentleman. He had lingering gazes, clearly finding Larissa’s looks acceptable. They matched heights, which he didn’t seem to be a fan of, but he had only brought it up once. After that, her mother made sure to keep Larissa out of heels each time she sent her out on a date with the man. 

“It’s to please him, dear. You must remember this.” Her mother had told her, trying to convey that it was best to keep him happy. Larissa had put up a fight for a while with her mother, but her father intervened eventually and it cut the argument short. 

“You will do as we say. That is the long and short of it.” He had commanded, glaring at Larissa like he wished he’d had an entirely different daughter. 

Her protests died on her lips and she remained quiet, obeying as she’d always been taught to do. She hated every moment of it, wishing beyond hope that there was a way out. But there seemed to be no light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, she faced only darkness, already threatening to consume her before the marriage was even final. Truly she wished to be sucked into a hole and do disappear entirely. But alas, a woman such as herself was a hard one to hide. 

There were several dates with her fiance before the wedding was even planned. It seemed he wanted to show her off like she was some showhorse, prancing her around as if he had her on a lead. And really, it did seem as if there was an invisible lead of some sort, pulling Larissa along despite her feelings about the situation. Not that she had voiced them to her fiance (that word felt so odd on her tongue about a man). She mainly stayed quiet around him, letting him take the lead in conversations just as she had been coached. It took every ounce of strength Larissa had to keep her mouth shut though, the man seemed to be denser than the Amazon Rainforest. 

He was kind to her though. As kind as a man with rich arrogance could be, anyway. He didn’t beat Larissa, didn’t try to force anything on her (for which she was grateful). But Larissa knew that this wouldn’t last very long. Something in the pit of her stomach told her that misery and woe were soon to come. 

It was only six months that had passed before Larissa was forced into marrying the man. Six very short months where her entire being was panicked and anxious. Those feelings only grew on the wedding night, knowing what was expected of her. Knowing there was no way out of this, especially after the I Do’s were said. Larissa was terrified, frightened, and distressed beyond belief. She was equipped for many things, but this was not one of them. 

On her wedding night, after her husband (that phrase would never feel right to her) had taken what he wanted from her, Larissa cried herself to sleep in silence, wishing for a different life. She’d let herself have that one moment before she placed herself in a steely resolve the morning after, blocking herself off emotionally to survive. It was only the beginning and she knew there would be years she had to endure. Years of being whatever a man wanted her to be. 

Before Larissa even knew it, twenty years had passed. Twenty years of what felt like being locked in a stuffy cage, repeating the same day over and over again. Twenty years of being married to a man who did not love her nor care for her or even gave her second glances when in the same room. There had been countless times when she had found evidence of him cheating on her. Lipstick stains on collars, strange voicemails left on phones, notes left in pockets, and strange cars in their long and winding driveway. 

Not that Larissa cared. At least he wasn’t trying to have sex with her anymore. At least he didn’t touch her and make her skin feel slimy and rotten where fingertips had touched. The most torturing part of it all was the fact that he wouldn’t let her go. He could do as he pleased, could run around, and make indecent choices. But Larissa? Larissa had to continue to be the proper wife and continue to pretend she was satisfied with her situation and the lavish things that she had. 

So many arguments had been started, so many slaps to the face because Larissa expressed her unhappiness. 

“Just let me go, Roger. Please. Neither one of us is invested in this marriage, we never have been. There’s no need for me to be here.” She had pleaded, trying to make him see reason. But it had only made him see red and grab her by the arms, shaking her violently as he screamed at her. That was how it always ended, leaving Larissa to continually feel trapped and broken. 

Her only solace was her child, the only thing keeping her above ground. Her daughter was the only thing that kept her head above water as she teetered under the surface of depression. Each time an argument ensued, she would find her daughter afterward and try to focus on her, not the swirling thoughts of morbidity. 

After a particularly harrowing fight, Larissa found herself weaving her way through the long corridors of her home, seeking her daughter at a frantic pace. Her mind felt as if it was unraveling, sending her into a spiraling swirl of panic. If she could just find her daughter and wrap her arms around her, it would ground her. It would put her mind at ease, if even for a moment.

Reaching her daughter’s playroom, Larissa burst through the door a lot harder than intended. She watched as he daughter jumped and leaped towards the nanny sitting near her on the floor. The nanny jumped as well, scooping little Olivia into her arms to protect the little girl. However, as soon as they both realized who had come through the door, Olivia pushed away from the nanny and ran straight for Larissa.

“Mommy! You scared me!” The little girl announced vehemently, eyes wide as she looked up at Larissa with blue eyes matching the mother’s own. 

Olivia hugged Larissa’s legs as she bent down to kiss the top of her daughter’s head. “I’m so sorry, darling. Mommy didn’t mean to scare you.” She cooed, hands wrapping around the little girl in hopes of it soothing her. 

Larissa’s eyes darted towards the nanny, throwing her an apologetic look as well. “My apologies, Deirdre!” She said with a small, apologetic smile as she unwrapped her arms from around Olivia.

“Think nothing of it, Mrs. Weems!” Deirdre answered with a wave of her hand, giving her most reassuring smile back to Larissa. “And please, you can call me DD. I’ve been here long enough.” Deirdre chuckled, getting up from her place on the floor.

As she stood, her eyes washed over Larissa, noticing the distress in her eyes and the way her body tensed up. This seemed to be the state Larissa was in all the time, especially if her husband was around. It made her wonder what conversation she had just had with the man. Truthfully, she loathed Roger Weems. He was the most arrogant, stuck-up piece of shit Deirdre had ever come across. Why Larissa was with him was beyond her. 

Deirdre had been Olivia’s nanny since she had been born, there to help Larissa whenever she needed it. So she had had quite a bit of time to ponder on the relationship between Roger and Larissa. There were so many unanswered questions that she had, but the one she knew the answer to had been obvious since day one. Larissa did not love Roger and Roger only cared for himself and the plethora of pussy he paraded in and out of his too-lavish home. 

Larissa had her sharp edges, that much was clear. But DD had come to the conclusion that those sharp edges had been made by her life with Roger. She knew there was so much more to Larissa than meets the eye, and that much she had assessed from the way she interacted with Olivia. The lady of the house hadn’t shared too much with Deirdre, even in the amount of time she had been there, but she knew very well that Larissa was a good woman just stuck in a bad marriage.

It made her heart ache for the woman and the child. No one should have to grow up in a home where the parents didn’t love each other, where they only tolerated each other at best. Deirdre had spent most of her life in a similar situation and so as the nanny, she tried her best to make things as right as possible for the child.

Larissa could feel DD’s eyes on them, but especially her. She had often wondered if her gaze was something more than just curious. It was obvious that Deirdre was a good woman, the way she interacted with Olivia told Larissa everything she needed to know. But the way the woman liked to include her in things, the way she seemed to reach out emotionally to offer comfort was something Larissa could not ignore. 

After feeling such comfort and kindness from someone, it put Roger in such a stark contrast. It put him in the darkest of lights and made Larissa’s hatred for him run even deeper. Deirdre reminded her that she deserved so much better. This was the very reason Larissa had grown to really care for her. Of course, she had not acted on such feelings. She hid them the best she could, not wanting to put the nanny in an unpredictable situation. Her eyes, however, didn’t always seem to get the memo. 

Larissa stared up at DD through her mascara-laden eyelashes, wishing she could hug her as tightly as she hugged her daughter. Wishing they could touch at all without it being improper. With a deep breath, she stood up straighter and gently played with her daughter's hair.

“I promise to try harder in remembering that,” Larissa assured, trying her best to reel in the large smile spreading across her lips. 

Larissa and Deirdre stared at each other for a moment, blue eyes meeting blue as an understanding seemed to flow between the two of them. It seemed they were silent for a moment too long though because Olivia was quite distraught over it as she tugged on the bottom of Larissa’s skirt.

“Mommy! Mommy!” The little girl was adamant in her want for attention, eyes darting between the two women.

Both women broke themselves of their gaze, realizing they’d lost themselves for a moment. Larissa’s eyes lingered for just a moment longer, longing and something akin to love lingering behind those ocean eyes, before they pulled away and down towards her daughter.

“What is it, little one?” Larissa asked as she bent down in the most proper of ways, keeping her legs together as she tried her best to make herself a little more easily accessible to Olivia. 

“DD is so pretty, don’t you think Mommy?” The little girl questioned, grinning between the two of them as her eyes flicked back and forth between her mother and her nanny.

Larissa blinked, taken aback by her daughter’s question. Her eyes flickered to DD for just a moment, eyes scanning her face quickly in order to see the other woman’s facial expression on the matter.

Deirdre looked about as surprised as Larissa before a blush crept up her cheeks, a small chuckle escaping her momentarily. “That’s an awful way to put your mother on the spot there, Livi.” The nanny teased, shaking her head in disbelief.

“But it’s true!” The child protested, slapping her hands on Larissa’s knees. “Tell her she’s pretty, Mommy! Come on!” Olivia squealed as she jumped up and down in excitement.

Larissa couldn’t help but laugh at her daughter’s antics, though there was a bit of a panic in her chest as she watched her daughter and avoided Deirdre’s lingering gaze for the moment. She could feel heat spreading across her cheeks and up to her ears, washing her skin in a flame she’d never felt before she’d met Deirdre. 

“Yes, my darling little girl. DD is quite pretty.” She agreed, eyes peering up at Deirdre at the use of the nickname she had insisted Larissa use. 

The tension between the two adults in the room mounted for a moment, swirling around them like a sexualized whirlwind. They shivered in tandem as their eyes finally met, Larissa swallowing hard as Deirdre licked her lips. Just as Larissa was about to open her mouth to say something more, Roger came barrelling into the room like a bull.

Everyone jumped and Larissa stood up straight, all evidence of any kind of emotion leaving her face. The only thing that could be seen, by anyone actually paying attention, was the flame of hatred dancing behind Larissa’s eyes.

Roger didn’t even seem to notice the tension in the room as he placed his deadly glower towards his wife. “We must be leaving now, or we will be late for this dinner. I suggest you hurry yourself up, otherwise, there will be consequences.” He threatened, not even making a show of caring who thought what of his outburst.

Larissa gave a curt nod before bending down to kiss Olivia on the head. “I will be back in a few hours, my darling. Have fun with Deirdre, yes?” She smiled brightly at her daughter, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Deirdre noticed, as she always did. 

“Come on, little wild one. We’ll find you some dinner and then see if we can learn a few things before bedtime, hmm?” Deirdre reached out for Olivia’s hand, which the child gladly took as soon as she let go of Larissa.

Watching with unshed tears in her eyes, trying her best to fight them off, Larissa nodded her head at Deirdre in thanks, her lips mouthing the word so softly. Deirdre smiled back just as softly, wanting nothing more than to comfort the clearly distraught woman. But instead, she turned and left the room with Olivia, hoping to shield the child just a moment longer from her mother’s pain.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x original female character #angst #no magic #no shapeshifting

[apollodarling-writes]

hxh yandere main four x gn reader??:))

YAN! HXH MAIN FOUR X GN! READER HCS

I did a poly, sharing situation. I hope that was what you were looking for.

its pretty shit, so I'm sorry

tws: stalking, murder, gaslighting, manipulation, implications of noncon, abuse, drugging, Stockholm, vague descriptions of injury, noncon somnophilia, forced pregnancy for afab readers, memory loss

MINORS ARE AGED UP!!!

Killua would develop this kind of attraction to someone because of their caring and kind nature. Maybe they're gentle to everyone and love to take care of people.

Maybe you took care of him when he was injured and made him good food, or perhaps he met you in the Hunter Exam. Either way, good fucking luck.

Killua grew up with a family of assassins and did not have the nurture a child needs. Illumi is extremely possessive of Killua and these habits were passed on to Kill himself.

Therefore, Killua thinks these habits are normal and when he confides in Gon about this, finding out that Gon has these same obsessive tendencies, he'll be even more inclined to do what he wants.

Gon grew up without his mother and father so he's obsessed with having a family one day. When he falls in love with you, it feeds into this delusion of keeping you safe from all harm so that one day you two can have the family he so desperately wants.

Gon doesn't have a specific type, but he does like the idea of having someone to protect.

When Gon and Killua are paired as yanderes, they're unstoppable.

Killua is a training, confining, princess love type, obsessive, delusional, possessive, overprotective, manipulative, stalker, monopoly yandere. He's not above hurting you

Gon is a delusional, confining, delusional, monopoly, obsessive, dependent, murder-suicide, self-harm, overprotective, training, manipulative, removal yandere.

Killua's training is vastly different from Gon's. Killua will hurt you, break bones, sever muscles, and then he will build you back up.

Gon is the softer training type. He'll be upset with you, but will whisper ever so softly, 'this is why you should let me protect you.' and proceed to manipulate and gaslight you while he cleans you up.

Gon and Killua, if provoked enough will kidnap you. They'll chain you their bed and monitor you, leave you in the care of Illumi for missions (which is never a good thing because the entire time they're gone, you have no human interaction outside of Illumi feeding you).

Gon and Killua like to drug you when you're 'misbehaving' so that it's easier to punish you. Oftentimes, their punishments consist of looooong 'lovemaking' sessions. They'll overstimulate you so much that you'll promise not to do it again.

If you are afab, Gon and Killua will force a pregnancy upon you, no matter how that may affect you.

Killua wakes up a lot during the night, and sometimes he just can't resist using your body for his pleasure.

Kurapika became a yandere shortly after he fell in love with you. After his clan's massacre, he just couldn't afford to lose you too, so he always has tabs on you.

Kurapika is the chill yandere in this relationship. As long as you're in sight, he doesn't care what you do. That doesn't mean that Gon and Killua won't kill someone if Kurapika gives them the go-ahead, though.

Please, please, please don't make Kurapika angry with you. He will tell Killua and you will not like it.

Kurapika wants you to lean on him more than anyone else, so he does his best to worm his way into your heart and psyche.

Leorio is the insecure one in this relationship. How can he compete with the others? He can't protect you and he can't use nen, so why does he think he has a shot?

Leorio is the only one in this relationship who knows that these feelings of obsession are wrong, but he can't bring himself to stop.

Leorio is the insecure type. He thinks he's inferior to the others and often wonders if he even stands a chance.

If he decides that he doesn't... watch out.

Leorio will kill you and then himself.

#tw yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere hxh #yandere kurapika #yandere leorio #yandere killua #yandere gon #hxh gon #hxh killua #hxh kurapika #hxh leorio #poly hxh #hunter x hunter #male yandere

[h-c-u]

I see forever in your eyes

Summary: Evolution of the relationship, ended with a bit of fluff in the end ;)

Pairing: Tom Cruise x fem!reader

W/C: 1.6k

Rating: PG | Age Gap

TWs: None

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to the lovely @malavera :) Something in a conversation with her gave the idea for the last few paragraphs, and the rest kind of materialised out of it's own free will.

A/N: I don't usually write RPFs, so it's a bit new for me, but I like the challenge :)

Masterlist | List of tags | Dandelions - Ruth B.

Being engaged to a movie star had its ups and downs.

Even though Tom did everything in his power to keep as much of your private life, well... private, he couldn't stop the press and paparazzi from trying to squeeze anything and everything they possibly could from the crumbs that he didn't manage to hide. And honestly... you didn't care. As long as you had him with you all the crazy theories and speculations didn't matter, and even more - few of them were actually funny. There was one that said that he literally bought you when he was visiting a 3rd world country... And another that said that you hypnotized him with your super-psychology powers, because how else you could have landed one of the most recognizable celebrities?

It didn't help that you were so much younger than him, which only fed them more... There were caricatures of him as a grandpa and you as a baby, sworn testimonies from people neither of you knew that he groomed you when you were still underage, and your personal favorite - a couple who pretended to be your parents, trying to convince the police and press that Tom kidnapped and brainwashed you, is abusing you and that they just want their little girl back home. As if you weren't almost 30. And you actually had to entertain the last idea for a bit, because even though there was no relationship between you and the crazy couple, you and Tom were still placed under observation for a week.

Sure, it wasn't the easiest, and you hated seeing Tom get angry at every ridiculous rumor. But one gentle touch from you was enough for all that negativity to disappear, and you loved watching him instantly relax just because you placed your hand on his shoulder. Or cupped his face. Or placed a soft kiss on the top of his head...

With time both of you learned that it was actually better for you to be in a public eye right next to him. The press couldn't say that he was abusing you if you were seen in a backless dress with slits up your thighs and there were no visible bruises. They couldn't accuse him of grooming you when you look nothing like the child they painted you to be. Sure, there still were wild theories, but not as aggressive as at the beginning, when there were only a few blurred pictures of you two together. And there were more and more articles talking about how much you loved each other with pictures of him looking at you with that relaxed expression, when you were holding hands, or when he was kissing your hand while someone managed to snatch a picture.

He wanted to take you with him to work, but that wasn't something that you wanted to do every day. Sure, you could fly with him whenever he was leaving the country and occasionally visit the set to meet his friends and co-stars, but you much rather focus on doing something else.

Since you had a Ph.D. in developmental psychology, you weren't exactly able to find a job in your field, and it was weighing on you, because you've spent so much time studying and doing research in a field you were deeply passionate about, only to have to choose between it and the man you loved. Because there was no chance that you would risk files of your patients being leaked to the press, which was a real possibility if you started working as a therapist while being engaged (and soon to be married) to one Mr. Tom Cruise. He would have never asked you to choose though, and it was a burden you were carrying alone because you didn't want to worry him.

But even if he didn't know exactly why he knew that something was wrong... So he helped you find something that you could do while he was on set, which was charity work. And of course, the press jumped on that with headlines like "Tom Cruise's latest fling gets HER way with HIS money". It didn't matter that you never touched his fortune... And instead of focusing on collecting money, you were finding local companies who were willing to donate their time or products to communities they were already close to. It was much easier than you first assumed because your name was linked with your fiancee's in every google search, and you were basically promoting those companies just by association.

And when you eventually started giving interviews to get ahead of any nasty rumors, there was a lot of venom from your interviewers. But because you basically had a degree from human behavior, it didn't take you long to understand what exactly most of them were after, and you were skilfully flipping the script in your favor, using their own words against them, to the point that few articles accused you of demanding the questions before the interview. You were happy to prove them wrong again and again. It was fun, dueling people who started with pure resentment towards you and ended up supporting your cause.

And as it turned out, you had a knack for it.

Eventually, the word about your agenda carried and you had to hire people to help you manage all the companies that wanted to join your cause, and only after four months you were running a full-blown non-profit, that matched companies willing to donate surplus of their products to people who needed it most. And it grew more and more every week to the point, when finally when you were out with Tom, you were asked about something other than who you were wearing, and what it was like being with such a famous actor.

And he was your number one cheerleader. Not only by praising you in every interview he did, but also by including you in the conversation, and encouraging you to talk about your latest projects. Logically you knew that you wouldn't be able to grow as much that quickly without his name associated with yours, even if he was purposefully staying away from the charity, not wanting to take the light that was shining brightly on you.

It took a while, but the venom slowly disappeared from the headlines, replaced by your latest pictures full of affection and speculation if you had already gotten married, and if not - was the date set up.

And now you were standing in front of the venue where there was another award afterparty, you were mostly alone in the area where you were supposed to wait for your turn in front of all the cameras, with only a few other people, who - if you were completely honest - you didn't recognize. You still had a few minutes without all the flashes and millions of questions. He was holding your hand in his, with your fingers intertwined, and just looked at you. In his eyes you were the most beautiful creature on this planet, nothing could even compare. You eventually gently put your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment of intimacy from all the reporters. You were careful not to transfer any makeup to his grey suit, even though you knew he didn't care.

With Tom so close, and a subtle scent of his cologne surrounding you, it was extremely easy to forget that showing up here tonight was more of an obligation than an actual date. And as if someone somewhere heard your thoughts, speakers started playing one of your favorite songs, Dandelions, which you started humming with a giant smile on your face. And as soon as Tom realized what was happening, he placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and changed the way he was holding your hand, so he was able to twirl you, and you immediately followed his lead, because at this point no words were necessary to communicate. You came back to him with another twirl, and he was already waiting for you, ready to put his hand on your shoulder blade, and as soon as he did that, you put yours on his shoulder, and off you went.

It was extremely easy to slip into the steps of the waltz you were following so many times in the privacy of your home, far from any prying eyes. And it wasn't a complicated choreography, but with your flowy dress, every twirl, every turn, every switch looked magnificent. You let Tom lead, and you closed your eyes, imagining that you were far away from here, letting him steer you away from anyone who was waiting for their turn to go to the red carpet. 

Every move either of you made was meant to compliment the other person... He was your ornate frame, and you were the painting within it... And together you were a masterpiece. You opened your eyes again, just to catch him doing the same, and you couldn't stop the giant smile climbing onto your face. It was so easy to forget why you were here, with his beautiful green eyes so intensely focused on yours, because everything else faded when you were together, and you hoped that this would never change.

But eventually, someone loudly said his and your name, calling you to the red carpet, and one look from Tom told you exactly what he planned to do, and you couldn't help but laugh out loud, and let him lead you, still waltzing, to the red carpet, giving reporters a small glimpse into your real life. You were immediately attacked with a cacophony of screams and flashes, but none of that mattered. Right now there was only him and you, twirling your way to the center of the carpet. Because you were focused on only one point in space, you didn't even get dizzy when you finally stopped.

He let your waist go and placed a small kiss on your hand, and pulled you closer, so both of you could take your rehearsed, photograph-worthy poses, and come back to reality. 

P.S.: For the choreography I thought about something like this set of course to this song The tempo is really similar, so you can open both at the same time and mute the dance video while the song will play in the background :)

#my writing #RPF fanfiction #Tom Cruise x reader #tom cruise x female reader #🖤 #tom cruise fanfiction

[legendofmorons]

How to fall in love twice (Time, Malon) -Part 4

Pairing : Malon x Reader x Time

Rating: T

Summary: As you and Malon have some bonding time in Kara Kara inn Time gets pissy with the boys.

Warnings: Implied/ referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism - (Reader had a drunk father that sucked until he was forced to get better or stay gone)

Other: if I missed anything, please let me know.

-------

You spend the two weeks a version of Wild's hyrule. The land is beautiful but the problem say it's only been twenty years since the calamity.

During this, you and Malon spend time talking and doing upkeep for an adventure. You gather rupees for odd jobs and stocking on supplies. With several faries and lots of weapons, you settle for basic food supplies. You leave an adventuring tag for the boys on the off chance they come across it

At the moment, you and Malon are settled inside the in of Kara Kara Buzzar, the busseling groups outside loud.

Inside is a haven of perfect temperature ir, maintained by enchanted sapphires.

"I hope the boys are doing okay." Malon says as she inspects her bow, eyes nothing but calculating.

"Mh, they're fine... By now, they're figured out that we're not coming back and that we got the mask."

"I know. I'm just worried. "

"Can I help?"

"No... It's just weird. I'm not usually the one on an adventure. "

You nod, not quite understanding the sentiment but understanding being on an adventure you weren't expecting or really even supposed to be on.

She looks at you fully, her soft smile a little bitter in the afternoon light. "I'm just glad that it's you that I'm with and not someone else."

"Oh- thanks. I'm glad it's you here too." Yoy say, trying not to come off as the giant smitten crush haver you are.

"You're sweet. It's really no wonder Link likes you so much."

"Oh, yeah... I try."

Malon just laughs, warm and amused. "You're a good person, and I've heard you're a Greta friend."

"That means a lot. Thank you."

She just smiles, pulling her bag onto the bed so she can double-check her arrow supply.

If she's honest- she likes you too. A lot. More than a friend even if it is a fresh crush.

You're funny, kind, and very attractive. She likes how you try to help people and protect those who need it. You're good people.

You turn to the window, watching the sands roll by as chatter sounds around you. The tourists outside are all dressed in linens and silks, seeking refuge from the sun as they browse the stalls.

You can hear Time worrying, even if you aren't actually there. You've seen it enough times, overheard his muttering, he thought no one could hear. You just hope he and the others are okay.

(You can see the pacing and the glaring as he mutters about where you and his wife might possibly be. The way he gets snappy with everyone's. How he takes as many watch shifts as he physically can before royally crashing. Only to repeat the whole process.)

"Hey, (Y/n)?" Malon calls.

"Yeah?"

"What was it like for you growing up?"

You turn to face her, her curiosity evident. And usually you don't just tell people about your past but most people don't ask. To be fair.

"Well... I mean, mom was born on a ranch and grew up there with her siblings. Dad was a royal guard from a long line of them.

"I grew up in castle town, I have three siblings though. And we spent every summer at Mamaw and Papaw's ranch. I did good in school but I struggled to keep up.

"It was okay, dad wasn't home a whole lot... Drank when he was, but he just got loud and angry."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine. The one time he hit us, mom nearly killed him." You give a shrug, "After that, he left for a year and came back better. I still don't talk to him much these days. But I don't feel like he's a danger anymore either."

"He hit you?" Malon asks, furry already filling her. How dare anyone ever mistreated children - how dare anyone mistreated you.

Oh, she'd like to kick your father's ass. That would be fun.

She can only imagine that Time would be on board.

"Once. Never again." You shrug, unphased because honestly you've faced worse on this quest with the boys.

"That's a real low thing."

"It's cool, I can kick his ass now. After learning to hold my own against the boys, I think I could take on Gannon myself." You crack a smile, hoping to distract her with a joke.

"I'm sure you could."

"Maybe that's why we got pulled away, to destroy gannon?" You snort at just the thought.

Gannon is so fucked is you or Malon meet him, but both of you- well he'd be done for. You both have a lot of rage towards him and you're both skilled at fighting.

"Ha! Maybe so."

"How would you do it?" You ask, "Defeat Gannon, I mean."

Malon tilts her head with a hum, thinking about the logistics of her ideal victory. She bites her lip as she does this.

"I think I'd just take my cast iron skillet to his head." Malon says with a shrug, "What about you?"

"Hm- I meN I'd wanna say the sword would let me weird it and go that route... but I'd probably be more likely to fight him with a baseball bat full of nails."

"That's a good choice."

"I think so!"

Malon changes the subject again, this time to the places you've been.

And you just enjoy the downtime with the redhead. You definitely are starting to fully grasp why Time likes her so much.

.......

Time can't stand can't of this, settled at a campfire in the Great plateu of Wild's hyrule is awful. Time's only thoughts are of you and Malon.

The woods are no comfort to him. Only making him more on edge because you could be anywhere in any time, and he'd never even see you if you were here.

Time is so worried. And everything is too quiet.

He's- used to not having Malon around all the time on this quest... But you've been there so long your absence is particularly felt.

The lack of your smile and laugh has been awful. Your help with cooking has been missed. The soft touches as you help him dress wounds -

Oh he's so fucked.

"I'm sure it's fine." Wind says a s he sits down by Time.

"Sailor - you don't know that. "

"I do. You have a type. Stubborn." Wind's smile at the end is a little smug.

"I- that is not my type."

"It's part of it."

"I'm just worried about them. Obviously, something happened. Neither of them would just run away. "Time says as he narrows his gaze on the ground.

"No... they wouldn't. "Sky says, "But they're together, are they're both smart."

"That doesn't mean they are in danger. I'm not even sure the mask is going to be helpful. What if they haven't even found it?"

Wind just listens, not sure how to help but wishing Time eoukd stop being so on edge.

"It will be okay, Time. Obviously you get them back. Or Twilight wouldn't exist." Sky tries to reason.

"That only means I get Malon back- what if (Y/n) dosen’t ever come back? What if It's my fault and I didn't hear them and-"

"Time." Twilight says firmly to try to stop the rambling spiral the man seems set on.

Everyone is worried about you and Malon. Everyone wants to get you all to safety-

"Hey, old man." Warriors calls out, "Come look at this."

Time stands, gaze landing on Warriors next to the largest tree in the forest, roots almost like their own tunnel.

The man was towards the knight, waiting for more instruction.

"These are (Y/n)'s initials, aren't they?"

Time looks, and maybe your hylian and his hylian are very different but you'd taught him how you tagged certain things when lost. A habit picked up from a survivalist uncle.

The tag carved into the tree reads your intials and then 'day 4'.

Unfortunately, the wood is well healed. At least fifty years have passed, probably longer. But the chain hadn't been in the plateu before, which means -

You got pulled away through a portal. With Malon at your side, probably. And you are in the past of the current time the boys are in.

That's some real shit.

"Well... at least we know what happened to them?" Wild trues, not really soundings too confident in it.

"I'm going for a walk." Time says in place of any real answer.

"Should we tag that way?" Wind suggests from behind the group.

"Maybe." Wild says, "So they can at least keep up with where we've been."

Warriors nods, deciding to tag the tree below your carving 'H.C. day 9.'

He just hopes you can figure it out.

Time can be seen going on a walk Allright, a real pissy walk.

Yikes.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu time #lu malon #lu malon x lu time #malon x time #time x malon x reader

[coopigeoncoo]

A Persistent Lack of Follow Through, Chapter 1: Wax & Wane

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

Rating: Mature 18+

Tags: Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Personal Growth, Drinking, Sexual Content, Non-Explicit Sex, Weddings, Child Abuse, Todoroki Enji's Bad Parenting, Abusive Todorioki Enji, Pining, Shouto is Bad at Feelings, Natural Disasters, Fire, Serious Injuries, Domestic Fluff, Implied Pregnancy

---

Shouto had learned a lot from his Father; how to take a hit, how to pull himself back up, and how to hold a grudge.

But one thing Endeavor could never teach his children was how to be a good partner.

Shouto had to learn that particular skill the hard way.

---

He had spent long, sleepless nights reflecting on the things you had told him; the reasons you left. Every moment of your acquaintance was turned over repeatedly in his head and examined until one devastating conclusion was reached:

"I was a bad boyfriend," Shouto muttered dejectedly, idly picking at the label of the shochu bottle in the middle of the table.

---

A story where Shouto loves, loses, and learns.

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Todoroki Shouto was absolutely sure about three things.   

The first was that nearly every food tastes better cold.  Cold soba?  Classic. Cold pizza? A revelation.  Frozen peas?  No point even heating them up in his opinion. 

The second was that his small circle of friends was the best thing that had ever happened to him.  When he had been at his lowest point in life, angry, disillusioned, and simmering in a cesspool of hate and futility; they had pulled him up and showed him the possibility that laid before him if he stepped off the path his Father had set him on and paved his own way in life.  

And the third was that he had unintentionally lost the love of his life.

It was hard for him to pinpoint when exactly your relationship had started because the transition from acquaintance to friend to lover had been so seamless.  He remembered meeting you one day at Deku's agency, a quick introduction as you passed papers around the table to the necessary parties.  You hadn't stuttered or blushed at his presence, didn't try to touch him or slip your phone number into his pocket; you just passed him a Uravity branded pen with a small smile before tucking yourself into the corner to take notes during the presentation the official from Public Works and Utilities was putting on.

He liked that.

And, as time would come to reveal, he liked you.

He would wait until the News stations would cut to live footage of Deku, a brilliant bolt of green cutting through the sky, to call his private line; knowing his calls would be rerouted to your desk.  

"Shouto!" You laughed into the receiver, unaware of the frantic beating of his heart that left him slightly winded. "You aren't going to believe this, but you just missed Deku.  Again!"

"Really?" He says, doing his best to sound surprised.

"Yes!  I'm starting to think this isn't coincidental."

"Oh?" Shouto gulps, stomach in knots at the idea that you're cottoning on to his grand machinations to talk to you every week.

"Do you have an additional Quirk you're keeping up your sleeve?"

"I don't think Bad Timing is much of a Quirk," Shouto snorts.  "But even so, you would know if I had three Quirks.  My Father would have mentioned it in every interview if I did.  The first known child with three individual Quirks would just have been another feather in his cap."

"I can blame Endeavor for a lot of things, but bragging about you is completely understandable.  You make everyone who knows you proud, Shouto."

Shouto wondered if you counted yourself in that group.  He hoped you did.  The idea that you would watch footage of him swooping onto the scene of a disaster and feel a blossom of fondness unfurl in your chest as he worked made him feel dizzy; completely overwhelmed by the implications of what that might mean.  

"Anyway, enough of me blathering on and wasting your time.  Would you like to leave a message for Deku?" You inquired, the sound of a pen sharply clicking in the background as you awaited Shouto's instructions.  

"Ah- it's not important.  I'll try back later."

"Well, with your luck I'm sure I'll be talking to you then!" You laugh, a joyous sort of snort that always makes Shouto smile. 

"I certainly hope so," Shouto smirked, knowing full well that luck had nothing to do with it. Happiness wasn't an accident, it had to be worked for just like everything else worthwhile in life.  

He had spent too many years living a life that had been curated by someone else's hand.  Until the day he died he was determined to leave nothing to chance.

Todoroki Shouto would craft his own good fortune.

"You should go home," Shouto croaked, his voice rough from exhaustion as he ruffled a weary hand through his bangs.  He'd been stationed at the long conference table at Deku's agency all day, reviewing the details of a sting operation that had been planned for months now.  The last push before the start of an operation was always brutal, with everyone checking and rechecking every detail to minimize collateral damage.  The rest of the team had filtered out hours ago, leaving Shouto agonizing over a stack of search warrants from the DA's office.

"That's rich, coming from you.  You'd already clocked a few hours by the time I showed up to work this morning," you snorted, feeding a stack of classified documents into the jaws of a paper shredder. 

"There isn’t even anything for you to be doing here so late.”

“I’m a Hero Assistant.  So long as there’s a Hero around,” you paused in your shredding to point at Shouto. “I’m supposed to be of assistance,” you finish, motioning to yourself with a flourish. 

“I don’t need any assistance.” 

“Oh?  Who is it that got you multiple cups of tea over the past three hours?  Or contacted your secretary to push back your morning appointments?  And who has been coming behind you and reorganizing all the paperwork you’ve been shuffling all out of order?” you paused during your tirade to tap your lips in mock thoughtfulness.  “That’s right- it was me.”

Shouto paused and looked around at the pristinely organized stacks of files surrounding him and the steaming cup of genmaicha at his elbow.  

“Oh.” 

Snorting, you swivel your chair back around to face the shredder, pulling a paperclip from the top of a folder before pushing it into the shredder teeth.  

“Thank you,” Shouto said as he gazed down at the table, mortified by his oversight.  “And I’m sorry.  For not noticing all the work you were doing for me.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him with a tired smile. “You’re a good man, Shouto.  I want to support you in any way I can.” 

“Because it’s your job?”

“No,” you admitted, scratching at your ear bashfully as you examined a particularly interesting spot on the carpet.  “Not just because of that.”          

Despite the late hour and the fact that he knew that the last trains of the night would be pulling into the station soon, Shouto was suddenly in much less of a hurry to send you on your way.

While you were busy emptying the shredder drum into a large trash bag Shouto surreptitiously slid one of the files from the table onto the floor, pushing his gear bag over top of it.  

“Oh no,” he gasped exaggeratedly.  “It looks like I'm missing the file from the Mayor's Office.  Have you seen it?"

"What?" You yelp in horror, rushing over to Shouto's side; grabbing a stack of files and flipping through them with a level of expertise and precision Shouto couldn't help but admire.  "Oh, this is awful!   We're going to have to search until we find it!  It's too important to leave it unaccounted for."

"I'm sure it will turn up," Shouto said as he ran a consoling hand between your shoulder blades. "You're very tense."

"Well, we've somehow managed to misplace a collection of important documents.  A little bit of tension is warranted, I think."

Shouto increased the pressure of his hand, warming it slightly and delighting when he felt your muscles slacken under his palm.  

"Oooooh," you moaned, dropping your head down towards your chest.  "That feels heavenly, Shouto."

"Here," Shouto said as he gripped your shoulders and guided you to sit down in one of the plush office chairs, sliding into the one next to you.  

"Panicking won't help matters.  Let's take a deep breath, relax, and work together to find that folder.”

“You’re right,” you admitted with a weary sigh, eyeing the towering stack of folders you had to meticulously sift through.  “This is going to take forever, isn’t it?”

“It will,” Shouto hummed in agreement, sipping at his cooling tea with one hand while sliding a folder in front of him with the other. “But I couldn’t ask for better company to spend forever with.”  

Shouto couldn’t help but grin at your garbled response, shifting his focus down to the file in front of him to give you a moment to center yourself and regather your wits.  You eventually were able to mumble your thanks before you distracted yourself by diving into the monumental workload before you.     

The hours ticked by, full of talking and laughter and breathless moments where knees or hands would brush softly against each other.  You had originally chalked the glancing touches as accidental, the result of exhaustion and waning focus taking hold in the early morning hours.  But each brief touch was paired with an intense stare and gentle smile from Todoroki that eventually bolstered your courage enough for you to dare to run a timid finger along the inside of his wrist- his pulse thundering despite his calm exterior.  A barely audible gasp escaped his lips when you settled your hand down next to his, your much smaller pinky nestled up next to his.  

Without a single moment of hesitation, he linked your little fingers together with a pleased hum; squeezing your smaller digit with his warmer one.        

He should have known better, should have realized that the break in his Father's defense was a calculated feint instead of the result of dealing with the onslaught of Shouto's tiny fists.  But he was young- inexperienced and zealous; desperate to meet the expectations set so far overhead he wasn't sure he'd ever be tall enough to reach them.  

The feel of his Father’s massive palm impacting his chest was expected, but frustrating nonetheless.  And in his haste to make contact- to touch his Father, to hit his Father, to hurt his Father- he had shifted his feet from their bracing stance and was unable to stay standing in the aftermath of the blow.  Shouto went down hard and landed poorly, his shoulder grinding into the tatami below him as he let out a pained yelp.  

“You did well to see the opening I left for you,” his Father said as he rose from the cushion he’d been sitting on, striding slowly across the room towards him.    

Shouto hated how his heart leapt at the faint praise while his body cowered in fear.  It was unfair to make someone feel such different feelings at the same time; too confusing and cruel for him to understand.  

He hoped it made sense when he was older.       

Enji stopped a hair's breadth away from Shouto’s prone form, his foot running the length of Shouto’s torso.  It was a bodily measurement Shouto was painfully aware of as he’d spent many evenings in front of a mirror, examining the bruises those feet left behind; sickly purple toe prints curling along his clavicle and a mottled heel across his soft belly.   

“But you gave up every advantage that you had the moment you felt like you had the upper hand.  You can’t assume that you’ve won.  You need to make sure of it,” Enji snapped.  “Your lack of follow through will get you hurt out in the field, or worse.” 

Even though he knew it was coming, even though he braced for the impact, the feeling of his Father’s foot slamming into his injured shoulder was agonizing; a sharp and blinding pain that left Shouto gasping for breath.  

“Remember this pain,” Enji huffed as he made his way towards the door, pushing it open in one swift motion.  “Learn from it.  Or the lesson will be repeated.”

Enji didn’t wait for a response as he slid the door closed behind him the same way he did everything; with too much force and without looking back.      

Like all Heroes, Shouto was accustomed to making split second decisions.  So when Deku had bemoaned the early departure his office gofer (which, as Shouto recently learned from a strongly worded email from HR, is someone who runs miscellaneous errands and not what you call employees with unspecified Rodent Quirks), Shouto was quick to make the most of this unexpected opportunity. 

Unclipping his cellphone from his belt, he silently slid it down into the seat of the chair he'd been occupying during the quarterly Task Force meeting at Deku's agency before bidding his friends and colleagues farewell and heading back to his agency at a brisk jog.

Knowing you, he only had a few minutes to act before you did your routine after-the-meeting sweep of the conference room, where you would inevitably discover his abandoned phone.  

"Good day," Shouto said, throwing his long-time receptionist a smile and a small wave as he breezed in through the entrance to his office.  "I have a lot of very pressing work.  Can you order some lunch for me?  Suzumiya's, if it's possible?"

"Of course, Sir.  I'll call right away."

With a parting wave he shut his office door behind him and sped to his desk, throwing himself into his leather office chair with such force that his momentum sent the chair spinning out across the floor. 

"Oh, come on- ," Shouto huffed, kicking off the wall with two feet and propelling himself back towards his desk, chair wheels squeaking in protest of his rough handling.  He reached his destination just in time to watch the red light on his desk phone click off, indicating the end of his receptionist's call for take-out.  

Shouto picked up his receiver and quickly punched in the number for his favorite restaurant, anxiously drumming his fingers on his navy blue desk pad as he waited for his call to be picked up.

"Hello," Shouto greeted pleasantly once he was connected. "I would like to place an order for delivery."

"Shouto! " You called out through gasping breaths as you burst through his office door, phone held aloft over your head.  "I- I have your- have your phone!"

Shouto was at your side in the blink of an eye, guiding you to sit in one of his guest chairs with a hand at your waist, fingers splayed wide over your hip in an effort to feel as much of you as possible during the brief moment of contact allotted to him. 

"Here, why don't you sit down and catch your breath for a moment?" 

"That's- that's a good- idea, " you pant, collapsing bonelessly into the chair and letting your head loll over the back rest, closing your eyes as you heaved deep gasping breaths.  Shouto smiled down fondly at you before plucking his phone out of your loose grasp, pocketing it before running a chilled hand across your clammy forehead.  

The moan you let when his cold hand hit your warm forehead was positively salacious and Shouto couldn't quiet the whisper in the back of his head that insisted that sound would be better suited for a more intimate setting.  

"You know, if you ever get tired of the Hero life, you and those hands would make an absolute killing as a masseuse," you joked as his chilly fingers traced free-form shapes across your forehead. 

"Oh?  So I make you feel good?" Shouto purred, kicking the temperature of his fingers down a couple of degrees when he felt your face burning under his touch.  

“I- well, that is-,” you stammer nervously, your chest beginning to heave from something other than physical exertion.  You’re saved from answering by a knock on the office door, Shouto’s secretary slipping into the room with her arms full of carry out bags.  

“Sir?  I think there was a mix-up at the restaurant.  They sent way more food than what I ordered.” 

“Hmm.  Well, these things do happen,” Shouto replied magnanimously, patting your cheek to signal the end of your impromptu massage.  “I’m sure you didn’t get a chance to eat before rushing over here, so why don’t you stay and have lunch with me?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t.  I already have lunch back at the office,” you objected half-heartedly, the aroma emanating from the brown paper bags making your mouth water.  Whatever was in the bags his secretary had dropped off onto his desk smelled far more appetizing than the leftovers you had shoved into the break room fridge that morning.    

“You would be doing me a favor, honestly,” Shouto pleaded as he opened the bags and began pulling out a seemingly endless series of containers.  “This is way more food than I could possibly eat by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” He nodded, moving to sit on top of his desk.  “Consider it a thank you gesture for returning my phone so promptly.”  

“Well, how could I resist an offer like that?” you laughed, quickly popping open one of the containers of yakisoba.    

“I didn’t think you would,” Shouto whispered to himself, biting into a dumpling with a wide smile on his face. 

“Wha’ was tha’?” you mumble from around a mouthful of food, swallowing quickly before continuing. “I missed what you said just then.” 

“Oh, nothing,” Shouto assured you.  “Just talking to myself.”

“Well, I can’t blame you for that,” you grinned, peering curiously into the open containers surrounding Shouto, reaching into the one by his hip and grabbing a stir-fried carrot.  “You’re a lot of fun to talk to.”

“I am?”

“Definitely.  In fact, I wouldn’t mind talking to you again sometime.  When we’re, you know, not at work,” you reply bashfully, gaze darting between Shouto’s wide eyes and the chopsticks that were beginning to bow in your over-tight grasp.  

“I would like that a lot,” he agreed breathlessly as joy clogged up his lungs, pushing out the air and making it hard to breathe through his exultation.  

“Good!  Good.  That’s good.  So we should, uh- we should do that, then!” 

The phone you had returned was in Shouto’s hands in record time, his lunch set aside as he brought up his calendar with a few quick taps.  

“Just name the time and place and I’ll be there,” he replied earnestly, eyes soft as he watched you spring for your purse to dig out your own phone to coordinate your schedules for your date.    

Word had spread quickly across both his and Deku’s agencies about the budding romance happening during work hours.  Your coworkers were impressively motivated to find every opportunity to force you into crossing paths, which Shouto was deeply and eternally grateful for.  Every misrouted letter and surprise last-minute meeting provided Shouto with ample opportunities for stolen kisses and lingering touches during the day.  Without their loving interference he’d be forced to endure impossibly long stretches of time without being able to regularly remind himself of what your lip balm tasted like. 

A seemingly endless series of talk show interviews had kept you separated for the first half of the week, the unfortunate consequence of having saved a well-known politician's son when a fire broke out at his nursery school.  Shouto was beyond anxious to see you again, speeding through the security checks at Deku’s agency in record time.  He tapped his foot off-beat from the quiet elevator music, a subtle orchestral version of the old All Might cartoon theme, while he waited impatiently for the elevator to crawl to the top floor.

Bounding out before the doors were even fully open, Shouto ground to a halt almost immediately at the sight that awaited him.  

The tallest man Shouto had ever seen was leaning over you while you sat at your desk, doubled over at the waist to bring his face level to yours.  He was wearing a tan suit that, while standard, was cut well and flattered his overlong form; loathe as Shouto was to admit it.  You were laughing- no, worse - you were giggling at something he'd said with a luminescent smile painted across your face.

Well, that simply wouldn't do.  

With renewed purpose, Shouto slowed his pace down to a stride, shoulders back and chest out in the way that Fuyumi assured him radiated confidence and his Mother said made him look very dashing and handsome.  

Natsuo had told him it looked like he was desperately trying to hold in a fart, but considering his extensive list of dating failures Shouto wasn't putting too much stock in his brother's divergent opinion.  But to err on the side of caution, he relaxed his gluteal muscles a fraction- just in case. 

“Shouto!” You chirped happily when you finally noticed his approach.  “Are you ready for lunch?”

“I already called ahead to the restaurant.  They have a table waiting for us.”

“We should probably hurry along then,” you said, pushing away from your desk and standing up.  “It was great to talk to you again, Takai.  I’m glad your business trip went well.  Maybe we can meet up for coffee soon?”

The man, Takai, straightened up as you stood, still hunching slightly to avoid bumping into the sprinkler head positioned directly above your desk.  

“That would be lovely.  It seems like we have a lot to catch up on,��� he replied affably, giving Shouto a quick once over before turning away in an obvious dismissal.  

“I just need to duck back into the conference room really quickly to grab my sweater and then we can head out.  It should just take a minute,” you explained as you threw your purse over your shoulder and sped towards the door at the end of the hall.  Both men watched your retreat with fond looks on their faces that disappeared the moment they caught each other’s gaze.      

“I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to officially make each other’s acquaintance.  My name is Takai Seiji.  I’m the lead accountant in the Finance Department.”

“Pro Hero Shouto.”

“I know who you are,” Takai stated coolly, turning to face Shouto.  “But more importantly, I know what, or should I say who, you want.”

“I want for nothing,” Shouto assured him, baring his teeth with a bright smile.  “I have everything I could possibly desire.”

“For now, perhaps.  I’m not naive enough to think that I can compete with the thrill of dating a Professional Hero.  Expense Reports just aren’t that stimulating to most,” Takai conceded with a sigh, a long fingered hand scratching at his eyebrow in frustration. “But the bloom on the rose won’t last forever, and I am a very patient man.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shouto bristled, waving stiffly down the hall to you as you made your way back towards your desk.    

“I guess this is just my way of informing you of my intentions,” Takai said with a saccharine smile, extending a hand out in a performative show of goodwill.  “May the best man win.”

“I'm certain I already have,” Shouto replied, his grin razor sharp as he grasped Takai's hand firmly in his, refusing to wince as Takai’s rope-like fingers tightened around his hand like a vice.  He abruptly dropped the temperature of his hand in retaliation, a spike of satisfaction shooting through him when Takai hissed in discomfort.

“Well, it sure looks like you two are getting along famously!” you say as you sidle up next to Shouto, taking their handshake to be a show of geniality and not the crushing test of masculine endurance it actually was. 

“Of course!” Takai replied cheerfully as he pulled his hand back to his side, curling and uncurling his fingers to increase the circulation to his tingling fingertips.  “We have a lot in common, Shouto and I.”  

"Oh?  Like what?"

"We both hold a deep appreciation for the finer things in life," Shouto murmured sweetly as he threaded your fingers together, gently cradling your smaller hand in his.  

"Shouto !" you giggled, bringing a hand up to push his face away from your neck, his eyelashes tickling you as they fluttered rapidly against your skin.

"Hmm?" He hummed through the kiss he was pressing to the juncture of your shoulder, releasing his lips with a wet pop as he pulled away from you.  "What is it?"

"I have to get up!  I'm going to be late for work."

"Do you have to?" Shouto grumbled, dropping his weight off of his arms to press you down into the mattress, trapping you beneath him.

"Yes!  Five days a week!"

"Can't you skip it?" Shouto whined, running his hands up your sides, fingers tracing looping circles under the hem of your night shirt.  

"You can't just skip an audit from the Government, Shouto," you said, ruffling your fingers through the part in his hair, delighting in watching the red and white strands mix together into a rosy hue.  

"Call in sick then."

"I'm not sick."

"No, but I am," Shouto croaked, coughing unconvincingly into his closed fist. "You need to stay home and take care of me."

"Shouto-"

"Oh, I think I'm developing a fever," he whined, pulling one of your hands up to rest on his forehead. "See?  I'm getting warmer."

"Hmmm, you are warm.  But only on one side of your body.  How odd.  I wonder what the cause of that could possibly be," you snort, pushing at his shoulder with your free hand until he deigned to roll off of you with a sigh, taking the blankets with him.  

"A half-body fever sounds very serious.  I probably shouldn't be left alone."

"Very true," you said, tossing open the closet door and rifling through the section reserved for your work clothes.  "I'll text Iida and see if he can run by to check on you a couple times today."

"Oh, that's alright.  No need to bother him.  I think my fever might be breaking anyway," Shouto dismissed, the flush on his right cheek vanishing in an instant.  

"It's an Audit Day miracle!" You cheer, buttoning up your blouse while Shouto sulked in his blanket nest.  With a soft smile, you crawl back onto the bed and press a quick good-bye kiss to his deeply pouting lips.  

"Rest up and enjoy your day off.  Once the Audit is done I'll take the rest of the day and come home early.  Want me to bring dinner back with me?"

"No, I'll cook something since I'll be home," Shouto said, lifting his arms above his head as he yawned, pausing mid-stretch when his words caught up with him.

"Home, huh?" You grin brightly back at him as you sling your purse over your neck and fish around in the side pocket for your keys.  

"I mean- I'll be here.   Here in your home.  Not my home.  Because I don't live here," Shouto stammered, somehow nervous about how you would respond to the implication of cohabitation- a topic that had yet to come up during your time together.  

"It's fine, Shouto. I like that you're so comfortable at my place; that it feels like home to you," you reassure him. "Maybe one day it will be.  Your home, I mean," you stumble, fiddling with your keys in a sudden bout of sheepishness.  

"Yeah?" Shouto asked, sitting up straighter in bed, the covers pooling around his waist as he focused his attention solely on you, which did absolutely nothing to help calm the erratic thundering of your heart.  

"Yeah," you agreed with no hesitation, taking in the sight of your handsomely disheveled boyfriend tangled up in your bedding and relishing the bubbly warmth it filled your heart with.  

"Well then, I guess I'll see you when you get home," Shouto said, waving good-bye as you closed the door behind you and made your way out of the apartment and across town.  With a dopey grin stretching across his face, Shouto falls backwards into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, taking in the little hints of you littered throughout the room. 

Knickknacks and souvenirs from trips long past shoved into tiny slivers of space between novels on the bookcase, mismatched picture frames spread across the top of your dresser and desk, the lingering smell of your sweat and shampoo wafting up from the pillow under his cheek.

"Home, " he sighed fondly.

The Audit, while stressful, was proceeding as well as expected.  Takai ran a tight ship in the accounting department so you knew the books would be nothing short of immaculate.  You could tell that he was deeply confident with what results of the inspection would be as he glided around the room, chest puffed out with pride and a self-assured grin on his face, seemingly daring anyone to find a misplaced decimal or inaccurate sum. 

The most daunting part of the process was the presence of the Lead Auditor, a severe looking older woman without a single laugh line amongst the creases in her face and an aloof demeanor that reminded you of your high school Geography teacher in all the worst ways.  She had cleaved to your side immediately upon entering the building, flipping through a report summary while you confirmed dates and times of specific purchases on Deku's professional calendar on your work phone. 

Your working cell was an unwieldy thing, extremely sensitive with an overly large screen that made it easier for viewing documents out on the go.  The larger screen also allowed for the very unprofessional and very intimate picture of Shouto that popped up in a full-screen preview to be seen with an astounding amount of detail and clarity.

Shouto was posed in front of your stove, a frying pan in hand and a spatula in the other as he winked rakishly over his shoulder, his back totally bare except for where the floral straps of your apron crossed his hips.  The swath of exposed flesh continued on well past his waist though, the start of his callipygian cleft easily discernible above the bottom edge of the photo.  

The photo was mercifully pushed from your screen by an incoming text message which, much to your dawning horror, was also from Shouto:

"Dinner (and me) are ready whenever you are ;)"

"Oh, God," you squeaked, mortified that your boyfriend had inadvertently flashed his butt to a government official.  You tapped the screen wildly to hide the text, accidentally opening the messaging app in your haste and zooming in on Shouto's exposed derriere.

"OH, GOD," you squealed, desperately fumbling for the power button before giving up entirely and slamming the phone screen down onto a nearby desk.  Face burning, you hazard a glance at the Lead Auditor, gaze settling somewhere in the vicinity of her nose since you were pretty sure you'd never be able to look her in the eyes again without melting in shame.  

"I'm so, so sorry-," you begin to stammer, coming to an abrupt halt at her raised hand.

"This has certainly been the most… revealing Audit I've overseen in a very long time," she responded evenly, her face stoic and completely unreadable.  "I believe the ladies back at the office will be just as interested in my findings."

You drop your head into your hands, moaning piteously as she shuffled through her packet of papers with a satisfied hum.

"Alright, Team!" She barked out loudly, startling everyone in the room except for her employees, who seemed accustomed to suddenly being yelled at by their boss in the middle of the work day.  

"Wrap up what you're doing and get ready to head out.  We'll take our copies and finish things up back at the office.  We've taken up enough of their time today.  I'm sure everyone is very anxious to get home," she said as she stared meaningfully at you, her lips curling infinitesimally at the corners.

You nodded weakly in acknowledgement, waiting until she turned away to chew out one of her subordinates before picking up your phone with shaking hands, relieved to see the screen had shut off and locked during its exile.  

"Shouto, you little shit, " you hiss quietly at your phone, angrily navigating back to his cheeky photo and pressing the 'save image' button so hard you're mildly surprised your screen didn't crack.  

"You're lucky you're so damn handsome."

You loved how the world shrank in these moments, how there was nothing else to focus on than the feeling of your legs locked around Shouto's waist as his hips rocking gently into yours, the scratchiness of your clearance rack sheets rubbing against your back, your heaving breaths synchronizing with the ticking of your wall clock.

In these brief instances Shouto was yours and yours alone.  Every moment he was in your arms and bed was an opportunity to selfishly hoard him to yourself; to keep him from his fans and his friends and the broken fragments of his family.  

You wanted desperately to be good, to be selfless and understanding of his duties and responsibilities.  But as he moaned your name brokenly into your shoulder as his hips stuttered, you couldn't help the greedy though that spun through your brain on repeat- more.

"More, Shouto," you gasped, tightening your thighs to keep him in place inside of you.  "I want more."

"Whatever you want," Shouto swore, tongue swiping over the hammering pulse in your neck.

"I just want you."

"Good," Shouto smiled, his eyes creasing happily.  "Because I just want you, too."

"Would it be possible to have a moment of your time before you head back to your agency, Shouto?" You asked while fluttering around the long conference table, scooping up abandoned report summaries and recapping borrowed pens. 

"Of course," Shouto agreed readily, bidding farewell to the other Heroes as they filed out of the room and into the hallway, snagging the complimentary sandwiches and pieces of fruit you had spent the morning artfully arranging as they left.  

Souto waited for the conference room door to close before he swooped in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.  

"There we go," Shouto sighed contentedly.  "I've been waiting to do that all morning."

You buried your nose into the shoulder of his Hero uniform, breathing in the scent of his freshly laundered suit.  Whatever they used to make the fabric withstand the extreme elemental onslaught of Shouto's Quirks imbued the cloth with an acrid sort of smell that you'd likely never get fully used to, but had come to tolerate with time.  

"You had a question for me?" Shouto asked, the rumbling of his words passing through his chest and into yours, the timbre of his voice echoing inside you.  

"I did," you murmured contentedly, reluctantly pulling away from the cradle of Shouto's arms to look him in the eye.  "A group of my friends are coming in from out of town this weekend.  I know it's short notice, but I was wondering if you'd like to meet them?"

"Oh," Shouto replied evenly, his muscles tensing minutely under your fingertips.  "Is it really a good time for that?"

"What do you mean?"

"It just seems, I don't know, too soon to be doing that sort of thing?"

"We've been dating for months now, Shouto.  It's getting to be time for this sort of thing," you insist. "Besides, I've already met all of your friends!"

"That's different.  You work with them," Shouto chuckled.

"I mean, yeah, but the principle is still the same!" You huffed, slackening your arms and letting them drop back down to your side, leaving Shouto's arms drooped loosely around your waist.  "I'm not even sure the next time we'll all be together again.  I haven't seen some of them in nearly a year!"

"All the more reason for you to go alone.  I wouldn't want to interrupt your visit. You should go and spend some quality time with your friends and catch up," he encouraged, holding your chin in place as he dropped gentle kisses down your face; first your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips.  "I have to go now, but we'll talk more later, alright?"

"Yes!  Oh, I'm sorry I kept you for so long," you apologized, pulling yourself out of his embrace, fiddling with your hands as he threw his work bag over his shoulder and jogged out the door, throwing a quick parting wave over his shoulder before he disappeared down the hallway.  With a disappointed sigh you went back to work straightening the conference room; pushing in chairs and making sure all the confidential documents made it into the shredding pile.

"We'll talk later," you nod resolutely to yourself, mentally constructing points and counterpoints for a conversation that would never come. 

"It's such a bummer your boyfriend couldn't make it!" Your friend commiserated, stabbing at a tomato in her salad and giving a frustrated grunt when it rolled out from underneath the tines of her fork.  

"Yeah!  We were looking forward to meeting him!" Another chimed in from down the table, doing her best to maintain balance on her overly large margarita glass without elbowing the other women squeezed in on either side of her.   

"Things are good between you?" Your friend asked, biting down victoriously on the tomato skewered on the end of her fork, pulling a disgruntled face as she chewed.  "Ugh, it's mealy."

"Things are great!" You assured them, pushing a piece of broccoli across your plate with a cold french fry.  "It's just still early, you know?  We're still learning about each other, feeling out boundaries, that sort of stuff."

Your friends all made various noises of understanding, waiting for you to elaborate more on your situation.  When no further explanation came, they shot knowing looks across the table at each other before sending you supportive smiles; your friend at the very end flagging down a waitress to order you another drink.   

"No biggie!  We'll meet them the next time we visit!" 

"Right.  Next time for sure!" you agreed readily, not liking how much that felt like a lie on your tongue.  

You were putting the finishing touches on dinner, everything prepared and ready for plating when you felt a firm tugging on your apron strings.  

"Hold on, I'm almost done here," you chuckled, doing your best to ignore the pulling at your waist as you popped open the lid of the rice cooker, shoving in the paddle and giving the grains a good fluff.  

"It can wait, can't it?" Shouto asked, running his fingers down the bare skin of your neck, his chilly fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.  You moaned at the feel of his cool hands against your dewy skin, your body overwarm from a combination of exertion and the additional heat from the stove and countertop oven running simultaneously.  

"What's important enough to delay dinner after a long day?" You asked, leaning your neck back into the chilly cradle of Shouto's hand with a pleased hum.

"I heard a song today."

"Oh?  What sort of song?"

"One that made me think of you," Shouto answered coyly.  "A romantic one- sweet and soft.  All I could think about all day was coming home, turning on that song, and dancing with you."

"I can't wait to hear it," you said, abandoning your paddle in the rice and turning to slide your arms up over Shouto's shoulders and around his neck.

"Well, here's the thing,” he grimaced. “I got so distracted listening to it that I forgot to look it up.  And then I had to answer a call about a robbery in progress and by the time I got through with that I couldn't recall any of the lyrics-"

"And now you can't find it," you giggled.

"And now I can't find it," Shouto agreed, sighing in obvious dismay.  "But, I was hoping you'd still be willing to grant me the incredible honor of dancing with you.”

“How could I possibly say no to a request like that?” you said softly, taking his hand in yours and letting him pull you out into the living room, leading you in a lazy two-step around the ottoman as he hummed an unfamiliar melody; a song meant for you that you’d never know.    

Shouto wasn't expecting to have his legs suddenly swept out from under him, but experience had honed his reflexes well and his arms shot out to slow his descent, preventing his face from impacting the ground at full speed.  His cheek was still smashed into the floor, it was unavoidable at the speed he was falling, but he would walk away from this fight with just a fat lip instead of spitting out teeth.

He quickly rolled onto his back, flexing his fingers and attempting to summon up his Quirks, but one look at his teacher's floating hair and gleaming red eyes instantly revealed the futility of his actions. 

"I yield," Shouto sighed as he let his arms flop down onto the ground, plumes of ash leftover from his fiery attacks shooting into the air around him at the impact.

"We've been over this before, Todoroki," Aizawa sighed, unwinding his capture scarf from Shouto’s ankle and draping it back into place around his shoulders.  "You're one of the strongest students in this school, but it's a different story out in the real world.  Turning your back on an opponent before you've confirmed victory is a surefire way to guarantee your Mother spends her weekend planning your funeral."

Despite knowing his teacher was a good man who wouldn't raise his hands except in defense, Shouto couldn't stop himself from wincing at the sound of Aizawa's approach; his body bracing instinctually for a blow that would never come.  Instead of the anticipated foot, a hand was extended instead; helping lift Shouto from the ground and pat remaining bits of ash from the sleeve of his shirt.  

"Your hits are connecting well," Aizawa assured him.  "You just need to follow through."

"Yes, Sir,” Shouto grumbled. “I'm well aware."

You’d have recognize Shouto’s sister anywhere.  Even if you hadn’t seen the entire Todoroki Family’s faces plastered over every gossip magazine for months when the terrible truth about their homelife had surfaced, the staggering list of features shared between them would have been an immediate give away.  It was strange in a way, seeing the face you adored copied and pasted onto an entirely different person; a feeling of familiarity carried by a stranger.  

“Shouto, look!” you said, tugging on his sleeve to gain his attention.  “Your sister is here!”

“My sister-,” Shouto muttered, looking up from the binder in his hands in alarm.  

“Shouto!” Fuyumi called out as she approached, waving cheerily at her brother, who raised a stiff hand back in greeting.  

“What are you doing here, Fuyumi?” Shouto asked, his brow wrinkled in bewilderment.  “Is Mom alright?”

“Mom’s totally fine.  Can’t a big sister drop by and visit her baby brother sometimes?”

“I…don’t know?  Can they?”  

“They can,” you nodded sagely, drawing Fuyumi’s attention away from her brother and onto yourself.  

“Oh, and who do we have here?” she drawled with a smile, taking in the miniscule distance between you and Shouto.  Nervousness flooded your body- this was it.  Your first time meeting a member of your Boyfriend’s family.  Determined to make a good first impression, you swallowed down your anxiety, stepped away from Shouto’s side, and extended a clammy hand towards Fuyumi.  

“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.  I’m-”

“Deku’s Assistant!” Shouto shouted, cutting off your introduction and slapping the binder into your extended hand, causing you to frantically fumble for the plummeting notebook as it tumbled from your grasp.  

“Really?” Fuyumi huffed in disappointment, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully at you as you gripped the binder tightly to your chest.    

“Yep,” you croaked, mortification clogging your throat.  “That’s me, Deku’s Assistant.” 

“And she’s very, very busy,” Shouto explained with a strained smile.  “In fact, she was just getting ready to leave and head back to Deku’s agency, right?”            

“Right.  I’ll just- be going now,” you murmured, nodding at Fuyumi in acknowledgement as you passed.  “Nice meeting you.”

“You, too,” she replied, slipping into the place you deserted at Shouto’s side and pulling out her phone to show him something on her screen.  Fuyumi waved a cheery farewell to you as the elevator doors closed while Shotou’s focus remained glued to the phone in front of him, pointedly ignoring you as you departed.   

You were very proud of yourself for making it all the way to the first floor bathrooms before you broke down into tears.

The texts from Shouto started filtering in during your walk back to work, an unending series of chimes that had you rushing to turn off your phone when a group of old ladies started to loudly complain to each other about the noise.  And despite the anxiety you felt for the rest of the work day, you couldn’t bring yourself to read the texts until you were home and curled up in bed, pillows propped up behind you and a mug of herbal tea rapidly cooling on your nightstand.

“Here we go,” you sighed morosely, holding down the power button and watching your screen flair to life.  Your home screen was peaceful for a moment before your cell connected to the Wi-Fi in your apartment and was suddenly buffeted by waves of incoming messages and missed call notifications.  With a fortifying sip of tea, you open up your messaging app and select your chat log with Shouto.    

Shouto, 1:35pm “I’m so, so sorry about the thing with Fuyumi today.”

Shouto, 1:37pm “My family doesn’t know that I’m seeing anyone, and if Fuyumi finds out then everyone would know by the end of the day.  I love her, but she’s a terrible gossip.”  

Shouto, 1:40pm “The last thing I want is for my Father to know about you.”

Shouto: 1:41pm “He has a way of ruining everything good in my life.”

Shouto 1:41pm “And you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Shouto, 1:59pm “I just panicked.”  

Shouto, 2:10pm “I know that’s no excuse, but it’s what happened.”

Shouto, 2:15pm “How can I make this up to you?”

Shouto, 2:30pm “I feel awful.”

Shouto 2:40pm “Did you get back to work okay?”

Shouto, 2:45 “Your commute shouldn’t be this long.”

Missed Call: Shouto, 2:45pm

Missed Call: Shouto, 2:46pm

Shouto, 2:47pm “Are you getting these messages?”

Missed Call: Shouto, 2:48pm

Missed Call: Shouto, 2:48pm

Shouto, 2:49pm “Please, pick up.” 

Missed Call: Shouto, 2:50pm

Shouto, 2:51pm “Can you please call me?  Let me know that you’re safe?”

Shouto, 3:02pm “I called Deku.  He says that you arrived back to work and are very busy.”

Shouto, 3:03pm “I’m so relieved that you’re alright.” 

Shouto, 3:33pm “I’m sorry for all the messages.  I was really worried.” 

Shouto, 5:16pm “Can you text me when you get home?”  

Shouto, 5:17pm “So we can talk about today?” 

Sobbing in frustration, you wipe at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand as you try and formulate a response, writing and erasing entire paragraphs of text a handful of times before giving up.  

“I was just caught off guard by your response to Fuyumi and got tied up with work stuff.  It's okay.”  You send in response; an easy lie because you were too tired to contend with the truth and all the unpleasant thoughts it would bring to the surface. 

“My family knows all about you,” you whisper to your home screen, a photo of you and Shouto in front of a gaggle of hungry ducks you’d discovered on a walk one morning.  “I honestly can’t stop talking about you.  Do you- do you ever talk about me ?” you whisper brokenly through your sobs.  

You’re pulled from your misery by the chiming of an incoming message, not from Shouto this time, but from Takai.  Worried there was some emergency situation at work, a common occurrence when you worked at a Hero Agency, you hurriedly open the incoming text.    

Takai, 8:45pm “I know it’s late, but I just wanted to check in and see how you were.  You looked pretty upset at work this afternoon.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

With a book tucked under his arm, Shouto moved to join you on the couch, pulling back the edge of the plush throw blanket you were curled up under and shoving his legs in, tangling them up with yours just like he'd done countless times before.  Normally, this would be a prime opportunity for Shouto to let his playful side out, either warming his leg until the heat underneath the blanket became unbearable or chilling his toes and shoving them under your shirt to hear you squeal.  

But the wrinkled skin between your brows as you stared unblinkingly at your phone screen gave him pause; your dour pensiveness causing a bubble of concern to well up inside of him.  

"You okay?" He questioned, rubbing a hand soothingly along your shin.

"I- yeah.  Yeah.  I'm alright," you sighed, scrubbing a hand down your face in frustration. 

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, looking at Shouto over the top of your phone.  "Can I- can I ask you a question?"

"Of course.  Anything," Shouto replied solemnly, dropping his book down onto his lap to give you his full attention.  

"Do you ever think of the future?  About what your life- our life, will look like years from now?" You murmur, curling your toes in between the couch cushions to distract yourself as you wait for his answer.

"As a Hero there is never a guarantee of tomorrow, so I do my best to focus on the present.  Appreciate the here and now," he explained with a gentle smile as he knocked his knees against yours playfully.  

"And besides, what is there to change?  You can't improve on perfection, after all."

"Of course," you agreed with a hesitant nod of your head, sending a tight but reassuring smile Shouto's way as you directed your attention back to your phone, staring once again at a picture of one of your high school friends.  His grinning face filled the screen, looking well groomed and deliriously happy in a smokey gray suit with his beaming bride at his side.

Quickly going down through the checklist of digital niceties, you liked each picture in the gallery and let autofill extend your congratulations to the happy couple, tossing in a couple of emoji hearts to really sell the sentiment.  

You opened up your texting app with the intent to send him a more thoughtful and personalized private message, but you couldn't find the right words amidst your frantically tumbling thoughts.  Despite the sincere excitement you truly felt for your friend, the only thing that you could focus on was the hollow feeling in your chest as you suddenly realized that the man sitting next to you on the couch probably wouldn't be the one standing next to you on your wedding day.  

"What do you think of this one?" You asked, passing Shouto a bright teal towel to inspect.

"It's fine," he said, giving the towel a couple of firm pats.

"That's what you've said about all of them!" You huff in irritation, snatching the towel back from his hands and folding it quickly before placing it back onto the shelf.  It wasn't folded as neatly as the employees could do, but it was better than abandoning it in a crumpled up heap for the sales clerk to deal with.   

"And it was true about all of them!  They were all fine!" Shouto growled, ruffling his bangs in frustration when you spun away from him to examine the next display of towels.  "I don't know what you want from me here!"

"I want you to have an opinion about this!  You shower at my apartment all the time, so you should have some say about which towels I purchase."

"But they're your towels!  It shouldn't matter what I think!"

"But you'll be using them!" You groan in exasperation, closing your eyes and taking a few cleansing breaths before you return to comparing the price difference between the traditional towels and bath sheets.  

"If this is going to be an issue then I'll just stop!"

"Stop what, exactly?"

"I don't know," Shouto said, throwing his hands in the air in defeat.  "Showering at your place?  Using your towels?  Staying over as often?"

You stared at him, eyes wide, as his rant ended.  "I see," you whispered, pressing down onto a stack of lopsided towels with hands as shaky as your voice.  "Well.  I- I guess I'll just head home then."

"Yeah," Shouto sighed heavily, reaching out to take your hand.  "Let's get out of here.  We can grab dinner on the way back."

"No," you cried, pulling your hand from his.  "You're not coming with me.  I need some time alone."

"I- what ?" Shouto breathed in disbelief, a sudden bolt of panic spiking through his veins.  "Are you serious?"

"Yeah.  I am.  Just- give me a couple of days, okay?  I need to think."

"About what?"  Shouto croaked, reaching again for your hand as you quickly tugged it out of his reach, grasping onto the strap of your purse as you put distance between the two of you.   

"About us, I guess?"  You said, turning away so Shouto wouldn't see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.  "Good-bye, Shouto," you whimpered, rushing out of the store as he stood frozen by your abrupt departure.  Once you disappeared from his line of sight entirely he leveled a fierce glare at the towel display next to him.

"This is all your fault," he spat, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stormed out of the store, ignoring the employee's disbelieving stares as he exited.  

The alert came out shortly after midnight- The Hero Commission had tapped him and a number of his sidekicks for an extended overseas mission to Australia.  A series of wildfires had broken out across the country and an unfortunate shift in the wind had things spreading in an unpredictable fashion that was stretching the Australian hero forces too thin to be effective.  They had put out the distress call to surrounding Hero Commissions to send any Heroes with applicable Quirks to help bolster the front lines and divert the blaze away from developed areas.     

The last thing Shouto wanted to do was call you, despite how desperate he was to fix whatever was broken between you.  You asked for space and he wanted to give it to you, even though every part of him was screaming to see you, to hold you, to ask what was wrong- what he did wrong.  He kept replaying your last moments together in that store over and over in his mind’s eye; heart breaking a little more every time you pulled your hand away from his.

He couldn't leave with that being the last time you spoke; having the sharp sting of your ire be the freshest memory of you.  

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Shouto chanted into his phone desperately, his foot bouncing anxiously as he watched the assembled Heroes mill about him; the air thick with everyone's collective unease and mounting anticipation.  

"-'lo?"

Shouto's heart leapt excitedly at the sound of your sleep garbled voice.  It had only been two days since you had last spoken but his constant state of worry had drawn the time out infinitely in front of him.

"Hi," he greeted breathlessly.  "It's me."

"Shou?"

"Yeah," he swallowed, uncertain of what to say next but knowing he needed to continue.  "I'm so sorry about calling you- I know you said you need space and I want to give that to you, really I do!  But I got tapped by the Hero Commission to go abroad-"

"Abroad?  Where?" You asked, the crinkling of your stiff sheets audible as you shifted around in your bed.

"Australia."

"Oh, the wildfires," you mumble, more coherent than before but still struggling to fully wake.  "You're a good pick for that."

"Yeah.  And I just- I didn't want to leave the country without talking to you."

A deep sigh from your end- weary and heavy in a way that makes Shouto's stomach clench in panic.

"You really want to do this?  Right now?  Over the phone?  At-," more shifting and a groan. "Two in the morning?"

"I don't know," Shouto admitted, a slight quake in his voice.  "What are we doing, exactly?"

You're quiet, too quiet.  The silence held an oppressive weight that constricted Shouto's lungs and made him feel light headed.  Spots were prickling along the edges of his vision when you finally spoke again.  

"I…I think we're breaking up," you whispered, the soft words hitting him harder than any fist ever could.

"No," Shouto gasped. "I don't- I don't understand?  Why?  Why do you want to break up?"

"Are you serious right now?" You scoffed, sounding fully awake for the first time since you answered the phone.  "It's obvious that we both want different things out of a relationship.  We should just call it quits now and see if we can salvage our friendship."

"All I've ever wanted is to be with you- from the first moment I met you I knew I needed you in my life," Shouto insisted, tucking himself into a corner to try and carve out a tiny bit of privacy in the cramped locker room; his forehead pressed firmly against the wall in an attempt to ground himself against to torrent of emotions swirling inside of him.   

"I don't know what exactly it is you wanted, Shouto.  But I know it isn't me."

"Why don't you think that I wanted you- that I still want you?  I thought we were happy, that we cared for each other?"

"I do care about you.  I care about you a lot.  Like, a lot, a lot," you sniffed wetly.  "But I can't keep pretending that lo- liking you is enough anymore.  I need more than just the bare minimum of affection."

"How can you say that?" Shouto snapped, ruffling his bangs in frustration. "What about all of our dates?  The talks we've had?  All the nights we've spent together?  Did they really not mean anything to you?"

"They meant everything to me," you sobbed.  "The past year with you has been the happiest time in my life."

"Then why?" Shouto begged, confused and heartbroken and livid in equal measure.  "Why are we breaking up?"

"Because I deserve better !" you cry out, seemingly stunned by the force of your own yell; the line quiet for a moment before you draw a breath to continue.  "I deserve a partner who isn't ashamed to introduce me to their family!  A partner who wants to get to know the people who are important to me!  A partner who- who isn't afraid to share a future with me!"

"I'm not afraid of a future with you," Shouto insisted desperately, his fingers numb from the over-tight grip he had on his phone.  

"Please," you laugh, a broken sort of sound that would be seared into Shouto's memories.  "I couldn't even get you to buy towels with me."

"We can do that when I get back home.  We'll go back to the store and buy towels.  I'll buy you every towel in the store.  We'll have so many towels that you can use them once and then throw them away."

Another laugh, sharper than before; laced with incredulity.  "You just don't get it, Shouto!  This isn't just about the towels! Every time I've tried to mesh our lives together, to create an us you just- throw my efforts back into my face!  And I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of feeling selfish and needy.  I just- I can't do this anymore."

Whatever response was going to pour thoughtlessly from his lips was interrupted by the loudspeaker on the far wall blaring to life, calling all the assembled Heroes to gather their gear and head to the runway.  

"I have to go now," Shouto swallowed thickly, mouth dry and tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, blowing your nose loudly into the mouthpiece while Shouto threw his Go Bag over his shoulder.

"I'll call you when I land."

"It's…probably better if you don't."

"Oh," Shouto muttered as he stepped into the boarding queue. 

"We should use this as an opportunity to make a clean break," you said with false confidence, the beeping of the microwave in the background alerting him that you had relocated to the kitchen. "This'll help us get used to not being together anymore."

"Okay," Shouto agreed miserably, because what else could he do?  He wanted to be with you and you- you didn't want that.  Not anymore, at least. There was no middle ground to find in this situation, no compromise that could be made.  All he could do was acknowledge that he could no longer be with the woman he adored beyond all measure.

Shouto had lost the girl of his dreams because he had done what he'd always done; basked in the heady feeling of victory while blissfully ignoring the reality of the situation at hand. 

His lack of follow through had, once again, been his downfall.  

He fell into his narrow seat along the wall of the fuselage of the carrier plane, the middle filled of the aircraft packed with crates of respirators, air purifiers, and first aid supplies.  Shouto fumbles with the buckles on his five-point harness, his hands shaking despite his best effort to keep them still.

"You okay, there?" Backdraft asks, extracting a novel from the bag at his feet as he settles in for the hop across the Pacific.  

"No," Shouto whispers as he drops his head into his hands, his palms wet and ears ringing as the engines begin to roar to life.  "No, I don't think I am."

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x you #bnha x self insert #mha x female reader #pigeoncoos🕊 #todoroki shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x y/n #shouto x you #todoroki shouto x reader

[agirlwithdemonblood]

The Broken Fan - Chapter 1

Pairings: Jensen Ackles & Reader (Read as first person!)

Series Summary: Always a nobody, always invisible, will this convention change things?

Chapter Summary: Growing up was never easy for me, but finally I may have found some light in my very dark world.

Warnings: Mentions of death, parents death, mentions of abuse, homelessness, anxiety, ect

Series Masterlist here! Main masterlist here!

Do you ever feel like if you disappeared today, nobody would notice? The world wouldn't stop, your disappearance wouldn't be plastered on milk cartons or across news channels, nobody would even know or care. That was my life. Nobody knew me, or cared for me. Nobody noticed me, not really. I was a ghost, an invisible presence left alone, all alone.

My parents died when I was a baby, I was too young to remember who they were or what happened really. I know what my Aunt told me, they wanted a night to themselves, so she babysat me. Around 4 in the morning she received a phone call saying that they passed away, asleep in their beds when the fire took their lives.

I don't even remember having parents, I have photographs of us together, but their faces are unknown to me. I didn't know them, I didn't get the chance.

After the fire, I stayed with my Aunt. Things were weird there. She'd look at me with such heartbreak and disgust and I had no idea why. I was just a kid, what did I do?

But I must have done something wrong, because when I turned 6 she told me she couldn't take care of me anymore, and the next morning two kind people packed me in their car and drove me away. I never saw my Aunt again.

My first foster home was alright, I was happy for a little bit. There were a lot of kids in the house, various ages, both sexes. I didn't like the kids too much. They were loud and annoying, and hyper. They always wanted to play stupid games like hide and seek, or tag. I didn't want to play dumb games, I wanted something real. I wanted to connect, to have somebody next to me.

And eventually, I did.

Henry, my foster dad, was always there for me. He actually cared about me, noticed me, heard me. He would spend hours at night reading me fairy tales until I fell asleep, and during the day he'd teach me things like how to ride a bike or read.

I had an actual connection with him, he was the closest thing to a father I ever had, and I loved him more than anybody. I thought I finally had somebody permeant in my life, but I was wrong.

My foster mom Sandy didn't like me. She hated the fact that her husband had his attention on me, and she thought it was strange for a six year old to bond with an older man rather than the children all around me. She said it wasn't healthy.

So he was taken away from me. After many tears shed and heartbreaking hugs, I said goodbye to the only person who's ever seen me for me, and moved to a new foster home.

The new home was horrible. The parents weren't friendly, and I was the only child in their care. I was forced to follow their schedule which consisted of three boring things, every day.

Cleaning, school, homework, food, bed. No reading fairy tales, no riding my bike, no playing with toys.

I hated it there. I felt so alone, so invisible. So I left. I ran away thinking I'd be better off somewhere else. But as a 7 year old girl, I didn't get very far and as soon as I returned, things got bad.

At first, it was the belt. My foster dad would smack my arms hard, than my legs, sometimes my face if I was a bad enough kid. If I cried or continued to disobey, the belt was replaced with his palms. This happened for years, non stop torture.

I didn't stop trying to run away, every few months I'd take off, praying that nobody would find me, they'd leave me alone but everytime I was brought back and beaten worse.

Finally, the parent's gave up on me and I went to another home. But I was so angry, so filled with anxiety and rage that I drove away anybody who could possibly care for me.

By the time I was 18, I had been in 13 Foster homes. My last one wasn't too bad, but I didn't talk, I barely ate, I didn't connect. I didn't want another Henry situation. I didn't want to care about others because I knew they'd leave me.

And I was right.

On my 18th Birthday, my present was a knock at my door from my parents telling me I've aged out and I need to leave. I received a check to get me started, a bag of food, and a cell phone, than I was left alone.

The money wasn't much, definetly not enough to get an apartment so I decided to get a car instead. I ended up using all my money to buy a crappy little Honda Civic and I've called it my home ever since.

Sleeping in my car wasn't half bad, I had my own space, I didn't need to listen to anybody or share it with anybody, it was all mine.

One night I parked beside a motel that had free Wifi, and I was bored so I decided to find something to watch, I never really watched TV or movies, but tonight I wanted to.

The first show I found was something called Supernatural, and for some reason I felt a connection, like something was telling me to watch it.

God, am I happy that I did.

The show felt like home, it gave me something to look forward to, something to provide me comfort on the hardest of days. I felt connected, like I knew the characters and I was living their life.

And one of the characters, Dean.. He awoke something inside of me that I never knew was there. He made me feel like I wasn't crazy, that life was hard but I needed to keep going.

The more I watched, the more I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. The show pulled me out of the darkness slowly, convincing me that life was better if I was here to live it. It gave me hope. It allowed me to breathe again.

Today is my 25th birthday, and I was celebrating like I always did, drinking beer in my car and listening to music while mindlessly scrolling through a page for Supernatural fans.

I froze when I glanced about an article about Supernatural's newest convention, which happened to be a few hours from where I lived. Normally, I wouldn't think twice about going, people like me don't go to shows or events like this, but I needed this. I really needed it.

I checked my bank account and nearly leaped with joy when I realized I had enough for a ticket, living in my car finally payed off.

Without hesitation, I bought a ticket for the convention and for the first time, I felt excited. I felt hope beaming inside of me. I could finally be surrounded with people with similar interests, and feel normal for once. Hopefully.

The next morning, I walked into the office building I worked at, and made my boss Brad a coffee, like he always expected. Knocking on his door, I took a deep breath before entering, walking towards his marble desk and placing the coffee on the table.

He nodded before taking the cup in his hand and sipping it, like he always did. His eyes flickered up towards me when he noticed I haven't left yet.

"Do you need something?" He asked.

I swallowed hard and stepped closer to the desk, "I just wanted to ask you something if you had a moment."

He nodded for me to go on and I shook off the anxiety nearly suffocating me. Confidence, I need to have confidence.

"I was wondering if I could take a week off starting Friday evening, there's somewhere I need to go out of town."

He stared back at me, the silence was suffocating, the tension high. He shook his head and looked back down to the papers scattered across his desk.

"No, sorry that won't work."

It felt like a punch to my gut, I haven't taken one day off, I constantly worked overtime, I did everything and anything for this ass, and I can't take some time off?

I swallowed down the nerves and sat in the chair in front of his desk, noting the way he stared at me confused. "Sir, all due respect I have been working non stop for the past 7 months and I have never asked for a day off, I've never taken a sick day and I always have my work done, all I need is-"

Before I could finish my sentence, his hand was raised, eyes locked on mine. "I said no Y/N, is that all?"

I could feel tears welling in my eyes as I stood from my spot, making my way towards the door. Anger was bubbling through my system and I felt like I couldn't breath.

I turned quickly and sighed, "Actually, there's one more thing."

He scoffed and looked up towards me, awaiting my response. I swallowed hard and frowned, "I am not going to be back tomorrow, I quit."

His mouth dropped open and he stared back in shock, but I didn't stay long to hear whatever response he was going to throw at me. I rushed as fast as I could out of the building back to my car. I slammed the door as the tears rushed down my face.

What did I do? Why did I quit my job for a convention? What the hell was so special about this damn show.

I finally let go of all the feelings I was holding onto, bursting into sobs of pain and frustration. Life was harsh and unforgiving, every moment of hope was washed away.

The only thing I had left was the convention, and even than I was clearly going to be the outcast, the weird girl who looks like she's never showered or slept a day in her life.

Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would be different here, the fans seem nice enough online, why wouldn't they be in person?

And if Dean Winchester was still inside Jensen, I knew he wouldn't look at me like I was garbage, if he ever even noticed me.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 2 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#supernatural one shot #jensenxyou #spn fic #jensen x reader #dean x reader #jensen's smile #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Day 9: Lactation | The Daily Life of a Noble

Pairing: Jimin x Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 773

A/N: Pregnant warning, mentions of past physical abuse! And really bad descrriptions of how people had sex in the victorian era....like shakespeare made up words too! I may have made some shit up but that's why we write fanfics!

🎃 Don't be shy, check my other cocktober fics! 🎃

⇤Prev | Next ⇥

___________________

“I’m so glad we can be together now…” Your husband placed a hand on your belly.

“All three of us…” The Park clan’s middle child placed his hand on the other side of your lower stomach.

“How did this even happen?” You leaned into Hoseok’s embrace.

“Are you still not used to me, dear?” Jimin asked, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Not at all. I’m not used to being loved, I suppose.” Your previous fiance, Hoseok’s brother, was an evil man. He often belittled you and struck you down when no one was watching. And then he died on his way back from visiting the royal palace, killed by assassins. Of course you were worried about your new beloved, but that was before you knew Hoseok.

Jimin came into the picture a few months after you were married to Hoseok, as his guest. And then you heard it, the sounds of their noisy lovemaking. You walked in, unaware of what was happening and thanks to Jimin’s playful nature you ended up staying the entire night. Eventually you ended up taking him as a lover as well, and then shifted into a more deeper relationship between the two, entangled nights a many between them, until you became pregnant with the seeds of their love. It didn’t matter to you who the father was, and neither did they care. They loved you deeply, and knew each would love the baby in his own way, regardless of who’s blood the child carried. The servants whispered about you surely, as Jimin indefinitely lived with you but he was here under the pretenses of business and hospitality as your guest. You knew the servants were no idiots, they surely knew of the nightly partakings you had with your “guest” and husband, sometimes both at once.

You were on the rocking chair as Hoseok pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and Jimin was kissing down your folds. You were quivering, holding your voice back as the servants were probably readying the mansion for your audience with your mother and sisters later. Right now you just needed a release which your lover was more than excited to give you.

“You taste impossibly wet today, my dear.” Jimin hummed as he worked down your sopping bud.

“Oh, look at that, she’s soaked from the top…sweetheart, let me take off that for you.” Hoseok helped you remove your garments and undergarments, both him and Jimin staring at your pregnant body in awe.

“Sixth month and you still look as ripe as the day I arrived.” Jimin kissed your hands with pure love in his eyes.

“She is a vision.” Your husband agreed with his lover. Slowly, your breasts began to leak a thick white substance.

“Is that…oh my….she’s leaking, darling.” Jimin pointed out to your husband.

“I believe that our lady is preparing for the babe’s arrival,” Hoseok replied curtly, closing his eyes and turning his face towards your hardened nipples. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we had a little taste.” Before you could get a word in, his lips were wrapped around your left tit, suckling them as greedily as he smirked, rubbing the other one with his free hand. And then Jimin began to suck too.

“F-fuck!” You closed your eyes as both men sucked your tits. “Uh-oh…we might be making the babe a little angry.” Jimin said. They shared a laugh as they felt the baby kick your belly. You groaned, feeling needier than usual. “P-please…” You whined.

“Alright, sweet girl. That’s enough. Time for the main event.” Jimin stood up, whipping out his cock for you to take.

“Go on, suck his cock, my love.” Hoseok’s voice rang like church bells in your ears.

“Mmm…” You wasted no time on taking Jimin’s cock in your mouth while your husband squeezed your nipples and slowly lowered his shaft into your entrance. You fucked your lover with your mouth as your husband worked your pussy open.

You clenched around him as he came effortlessly, and with a few more pumps, Jimin’s semen painted your face white and your breast milk coated their bodies as you had your orgasm. Jimin would not stop rubbing your clit while Hoseok fucked you, and on top of all that using his lips, the little cheater! You came easily thanks to his help and collapsed from exhaustion.

“My god…” You moaned. “Thank you.” You sighed.

“You’re very welcome.” Jimin gave you a soft kiss and wiped your face off with a wet cloth.

“Let’s clean off our girl now.” Your husband handed him another cloth and helped you back into your gown.

#jimin #j hope #hoseok #bts #jimin x reader x hoseok #jihope x reader #jihope #poly bts #kinktober 2023 #female reader #victorian au #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts smut

[itzbwmbi]

jealousy sex with scaramouche, kaeya and diluc? It's also okay as an hc :)

JEALOUSY SEX !

ﾉ featuring: dom! diluc, kaeya, scaramouche + f! sub! reader (separate).

ﾉ warnings: minors dni!! f! reader, dumbification, diluc is so angry and is mean :(, calls u whore once, mention of multiple rounds and overstimulation, exhibitionism, semi-public loud sex, ass spanking (just once), hint of virgin reader (scaramouche), manipulation, mention of manhandling, he's mean at first ;(, possessive behaviors, mention of childe😱, well they all think you're a whore so not gonna mention that again. hihi. not proofread.

ﾉ a/n: of course anon!! please enjoy 👀 i shouldn't but i find it so hot-. btw asks open for more reqs or thirsts aaand likes and rb are highly appreciated. <33 and thank you for +100 followers!!! omg what. thank you so much.

ﾉ taglist: @stygianoir. (lmk if u wanna be tagged too)

Diluc.

Perhaps you've spent too much time in the tavern. Perhaps you've abused alcohol a little and lost control of your actions for a moment. Yeah, it did happen. But nothing you'd regret! You just talked to Kaeya and enjoyed the conversation, and well, you two might have hit it off quite quick. He was so close that you could even smell the strong wine of his breath. So, so close. But then again, Kaeya had no chance of catching you off guard. As much as he tries to have you, the owner of the tavern is always on the lookout for a case like this.

“Enough.” A bang with his fist on the wooden bar capable of attracting the attention of even the most drunk, and a burning look full of rage directed right to Kaeya's soul is enough to drive the blue-haired man away from you cursing under his breath, tavern falling silent due to Diluc's sudden temperament. Despite removing Kaeya from his sigh, Diluc isn't satisfied at all, oh no. His blood boils every time he sets his sights on you — his sweet darling. What were you doing so close to someone other than him? Why didn't you walk away? Did you want to make him jealous on purpose? You had achieved it with honors, that's for sure.

No wonder that night you find yourself trapped against the wall, your legs carelessly wrapped around Diluc's hips as his cock slides in and out of you mercilessly. It's what you deserve after all, for being so mean to him. You know how it bothers him when you share the slightest word with Kaeya and you still do. You wanted this, right? Having Diluc take it out on you like this, expanding your gummy walls every time his cock fills you up without warning? When he's so fucking rude with you? That fact infuriates Diluc even more.

He knows very well what's gonna happen and what he's gonna do all night long. This man won't stop pounding into you until you've cummed on his dick so many times that you can't take it anymore, when all your weight is on Diluc and your track of thought begins to twist and sluggish, until all that wanders through your mind is a continuous mantra — "diluc, diluc, diluc." You've already forgotten about him before. Now he's gonna burn his name on your brain until your swollen pretty pussy can't take it anymore, until you are fucked dumb and creaming all over his cock.

“You wanted this, didn't you, whore? C'mon, say my name one more time. Say it until I command you to stop.”

Kaeya.

You thought it'd be fun to spend a day with other Knights of Favonius rather than with Kaeya. Chatting with them, helping them with their daily tasks, even sharing time with them on their breaks. In your eyes everything was fine, but Kaeya's point of view was twisted and as ill-considered as possible. What were you trying, hm? Seduce them? Whether or not his conjecture was accurate to reality, you don't know what awaits you later that night.

That's what Kaeya's mind was wondering all day long. The way he'd punish you for such an unfair act towards him. That innocent smile and those fuck-me eyes that you gave Huffman would make you pay dearly, although Kaeya was almost 100% sure that you did it on purpose to provoke him. Oh what a silly dirty darling of his, not knowing who she's messing with. That behavior should be patched up immediately.

And that's how you ended up in Kaeya's room, tits pressed against his bedroom window on full display for whoever was passing through the dark streets of Mondstadt, hands pressed firmly against your curved back, leaving your soaked pussy at his free disposal. Wet sounds and pants fill the room, not caring in the least if anyone was listening as Kaeya fucked himself into you.

A loud spank on your ass made you squeak, a sly grin shading Kaeya's features at the delightful sounds you were making. “K-Kaeya..! Ahh.. They gonna hear us...!” Kaeya's cock twitched inside your walls at the thought. The man lets out a graceful laugh, as if he wasn't shamelessly pounding into you from behind, pussy fluttering around Kaeya's girth after hearing his poison-drenched words. You were enjoying it after all.

“Oh, is that so? Well, too bad. It would be a shame if Huffman knew what a whore you are for my cock, wouldn't it?”

Scaramouche.

Ever since you became Childe's subordinate, the control that Scaramouche had over you has been completely annihilated and shattered in front of his face. Now you can only respond to Childe's commands, which means deliberately disobeying what Scaramouche tells you to do. You don't like it, but it is what it is. Or maybe... you do like it? As Scaramouche recalls, you weren't as obedient to him as you are now to Childe. What's hiding between you two?

Scaramouche doesn't know, and something getting out of his knowledge makes him mad and more irritable than ever. That pretty dumb girl he always had at his feet, what has become now? He's gonna win you back no matter what, even if he has to make you understand the hard way.

Your hands on Scaramouche's shoulders balance you to some extent, and the fatui doesn't even make a move to help you. He's waiting with his legs slightly apart for you to lower your hips at once and ride him like the obedient slut you are meant to be for him, but you flatly refuse. Your fluids were slipping down your inner thighs, pussy begging to be filled now, but you didn't have the courage to do it. “I can't! n-no.. it won't fit!”

Scaramouche slightly moves his hips upwards, his pink tip rubbing your throbbing entrance, waiting with great interest your reaction. “What the hell are you talking about, y/n? It fits perfectly. Look.” And without warning, his hands land on your hips, slamming you down onto his cock in one go, a scream erupts from your throat, and Scaramouche sighs with relief “fuck yeah..” Your poor cunt struggles adapting to his cock, but he knows it's just a matter of time. Tears fall from your eyes and you rest your head on his shoulder, whimpering against the crook of his neck how cruel he is sometimes. “Dry those tears. This will help Childe know who you truly belong to. Isn't it what you want too?” He cooed condescendingly and you hummed in response.

The grip of his hands moved your hips slowly, up and down his length, back and forth and in circular motions, focused on pleasuring himself. On fucking the jealousy out of him. “Fuck, y/n. You feel s'good.. and you're mine now… only mine, you understand?” You nodded silently, holding back the moans that are about to come out of your agape mouth, lips red and swollen from biting them too much. It felt so good now, so good… he was being very considerate of your feelings, trying not to hurt you and moving you delicately on his hard cock. Little did you know that he's only trying to gain your trust in order to make you obey him again like you used to. He's just taking back what he once owned. His naïve darling's so manipulable, oh how he'd love to fuck you and manhandle you like a rag doll. But that had to wait.

“See, baby? I do it better than him, I AM better than him. Nobody will make you feel better than me. Keep that in that cute little head of yours.”

© itzbwmbi.

#bwmbi.smut #bwmbi.reqs #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #diluc x reader #diluc smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut

[mrprettywhenhecries]

separate ways [b.h]

one. | don't tell me you love me

Billy Hargrove ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 4.5k words ⇾ warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, angst, mention of child abuse, drinking, violence, blood, Billy's really bad at emotions :c, slight dubcon (if you squint) ⇾ a/n: Yay! Here we are at the beginning of the two part part two, which will bridge the gap between the events of season two and three and will be from Billy's pov.

[ masterlist ] [ win lewis bio ]

“We’re done.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, he’d regretted them.  They’d hung in the air between him and Win, as if just waiting for him to take them back and beg her forgiveness.

But Billy Hargrove didn’t beg.

What was left of his pride and the sharp hot rage yet running through his veins wouldn’t let him.  Instead, he’d turned on his heel and walked out.

Billy was half way back to Hawkins when the weight of what he’d done finally sank in.  By the time he’d turned back to retrace his steps, Win was gone, the Byers’ house left empty.  It was then that he felt the telltale signs of panic truly begin to grip him.  He had no idea where Max had gone, when or even if she’d be back, and there was no way he could show his face back home without her.

Torn between waiting there for her and going after Win, hoping she’d headed back to her place, he settled for calling her, holding his breath as the line rang, and rang. 

And rang.

When Max returned with the Camaro, it was nearing midnight and Billy didn’t say a word to her as he climbed wearily into the driver’s seat.  Her threat was still fresh in his mind, but it wasn’t fear that held his tongue.  He was just too tired to fight any more and he still had his father’s inevitable wrath to look forward to.

Though at that point, Billy couldn’t think of any punishment worse than losing Win.  As much as he wanted to believe that by Monday she’d cool down and all would be well, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple.

That night, as much as he hated himself for it, Billy Hargrove cried himself to sleep, the angry red welts left by his father’s belt stinging as much as the raw empty space in his chest where his heart had been.

Monday, the ride to school was a quiet one, and as soon as Billy parked, Max left the Camaro without a backwards glance.  Billy watched her skate toward the middle school with a scowl on his face.  While she’d gotten a fair share of their parents’ ire, it was he who’d shouldered the lion’s share.  

How was that for fair when the whole thing had been her fault in the first place?

Rolling his shoulders uncomfortably against the bruises that had started to form along his back and ribs, he slammed his door shut and strode toward the school entrance, several stray snowflakes beginning to fall, catching in his hair.

It seemed merely the fact that Win hadn’t rode to school with him that morning was enough to set the hall aflame with gossip, speculation as to the state of their relationship racing ahead of him.

“Is it true?  Did you and Win split?” Carol asked, meeting Billy by his locker, smacking her gum as she waited for his answer, her blue eyes alight with curiosity.

“No,” Billy replied gruffly, pulling his locker door open with more force than necessary.  “We just had a little spat.  That’s all,” he insisted, radiating disdain.

“Uh huh,” Carol mused doubtfully, blowing a pink bubble as she studied him, popping it before shrugging and walking off, no doubt going to spread the news to Vicki and Tina.

Billy grabbed his books and stalked off, trying to put on a normal facade.  His morning classes came and went, but he barely paid attention, too occupied with his own thoughts.

This was a completely new experience for him.  He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Win she’d been his first real girlfriend.  He’d never been serious about anyone before, so it never hurt when he eventually kicked them to the curb.  Billy had always been the one to love ‘em and leave ‘em, no one had ever broken up with him before, and he didn’t like it, this hollow ache in his chest that only grew worse as the day wore on.

Though he wasn’t hungry in the slightest, by the time the lunch bell rang, Billy made his way to the cafeteria, keeping his eyes peeled for Win, hoping to get her by herself and have a word.  However, as soon as she noticed him, she pushed her chair back from the table and practically fled the room, leaving her tray of food untouched.  The sight of her red rimmed eyes before she’d left made Billy’s heart drop into his stomach, but before he could even attempt to follow her, his path was blocked by Holly, her dark eyes flashing.

“Don’t even think about it, Billy boy,” she snapped, placing her hands on her hips.

“Oh, cool it, Hampton,” Billy sighed, placing an unlit cigarette between his lips.  “I just wanna talk to her.”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Holly exclaimed, not backing down, and the look on her face made Billy scowl.

“Look.  Just tell her I wanna talk to her–” he ground out, but Holly crossed her arms across her chest.

“Look,” she repeated back to him, a hard edge to her voice.  “Just stay away from Win, got it?”

When it became obvious she wasn’t going to let him past, Billy let out a frustrated huff, giving her one last look before turning around and striding away, heading for the bleachers.  

If Win wanted her spot back, then she was gunna have to take it from him.

––

After the day he’d had, Billy was actually looking forward to basketball practice.  It would be good to blow off some steam on the court and Lord knew he had some pent up aggression he needed to get out.

“Good job out there today, Hargrove,” the coach exclaimed as practice wound to an end, his teammates heading for the locker room to hit the showers.  “Wish I had four more of you on the court,” he chuckled, slapping Billy on the back.

“Thanks Coach,” Billy grunted, gritting his teeth against the sudden flare of pain before hissing out a breath as he joined the others in the locker room.

“Dude, did you see Steve?” one of the guys exclaimed loudly as Billy passed, heading to his locker.

“Yeah, his face is fucked up!  Wonder who did it to him.”

“I heard it was Billy,” another piped up, snickering.

Contemplating whether or not he should just shower at home, not exactly wanting to field any questions from his teammates about the bruises covering his back, Billy couldn’t help but smirk to himself, still pretty proud of knocking Steve down a few pegs.

“Speaking of Hargrove, I heard he and Win are splitsville,” one the guys hissed in a hushed tone.  “Maybe I can finally tap that,” he chuckled.

Billy’s smirk disappeared and he turned away from his locker, letting his eyes sweep the room as he pulled his sweat soaked cut-off over his head, discreetly searching for who’d spoken.

“You gotta be kidding.  After what he did to Steve?  Ain’t no way I’d cross Billy.”

The first voice snorted.  “Nah man, she’d be fuckin’ worth it–”

Following the voices, like a panther stalking its prey, Billy slipped a fresh shirt on as he rounded the corner to where Braydon Miller and Taylor Rupp were huddled together, his eyes narrowing as he sized them up.

“Wanna run that by me again, Miller?” Billy drawled, leaning against the low of lockers, cutting off their escape, a dangerous note to his low voice.

His teammates stiffened, realizing they’d been overheard, but Billy’s attention was all on Braydon, who cleared his throat awkwardly.  “It’s just… if you’re not together any more–” he trailed off under Billy’s glower.

“Anyone else want a turn with my girl?” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide as he slowly turned to address the rest of the locker room.

No one spoke, several of his teammates dropping their gazes to their feet, and Billy nodded to himself.  “Now, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Win is still very much mine,” he growled, staring at Miller for emphasis.  “So, if I find out about any of you making a pass at her, you’ll get worse than Harrington got.”

If possible, the locker room got even quieter and Billy let out a huff.  “Do you understand?” he asked.

When no one answered, his lips twisted in a scowl and he raised his voice, emphasizing each word.  “I said.  Do. You. Understand?” 

This time, a frantic chorus of voices replied, leaving Billy satisfied with their response.  “Good.  Tell your friends,” he said, shoving Miller back against his locker as he retreated, grabbing his things and leaving.

––

December 22nd, 1984

“Max, honey, stay still,” Susan chastised lightly.

“Ow!  Mom, that’s too tight!” Max whined in response, their voices floating down the hall from the bathroom.

Billy rolled his eyes, getting up to shut his door.  Standing in the doorway, he peered out, catching sight of Susan braiding a strand of Max’s fiery hair to pin back out of her face, helping her get ready for her dumb little middle school dance.

For a moment, Max turned, holding his stare and a wave of resentment washed over him.  Without a word, he stepped back into his room, shutting his door firmly.  He’d kept his word, he’d left her and her stupid friends alone, and where had it gotten him?  She was going out, having fun, and he was stuck there, alone.  With a pang of regret, he couldn’t help but wonder what Win was doing right then.  

He’d heard that Hawkins Lab had been shut down suddenly, and he wondered if she’d actually get to spend the holiday with her father.  He glanced across the room at the small gift wrapped box sitting on his dresser.  He’d gotten her a gift shortly after Thanksgiving, while they were still together, but now it seemed like it was going to go to waste and Neil’s words echoed in his head, taunting him.

Wonder how long it’ll last before you fuck it up.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Billy set his jaw and strode across the room, snatching the box.  Grabbing his keys, he set out before he could change his mind.  He’d given Win space, forced himself to pass her by at school and hold his tongue as if he didn’t have a million things he wanted to say to her, missing being able to just talk to her, but it was obvious to anyone with eyes that she was hurting, and for what?  

Obviously neither of them wanted this, so why were they still apart?  It was stupid and Billy was determined to make her see that.

Pulling up to her house, Billy turned off his headlights as he parked on the street–close enough to be able to see the front of the house, but far enough away that his car wouldn’t be spotted.  Glancing down at the box sitting in the passenger seat, he wet his lips before his gaze flicked back to the house.

The front curtains were open and he could easily see into the living room.  Win and her dad were decorating the tree, stringing a strand of multicoloured twinkle lights around its branches.  For a moment, Billy let himself imagine he was inside with them–Christmas music playing softly from the radio in the kitchen as It’s a Wonderful Life droned on in the background.

Win’s smile was radiant and he wanted to live in the fantasy a while longer, but the cold was beginning to creep into the car, chilling him, his breath misting in the air.  Opening his eyes he tried to imagine what would really happen if he walked up to the door–his heart in his hands.  And every scenario ended with him being turned away.

Turning the key in the ignition, Billy gave one last wistful look at the window and the warmth that seemed to radiate from within before pulling away from the curb, Win’s present forgotten in the passenger seat.

He couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t face the possibility of her rejection.

He’d give it a week, he decided.  Maybe by then he’d find the courage to try again.

––

December 31st, 1984

It was already dark by the time Billy left the house on Cherry St. and he turned up the radio as he turned onto the main drag through town.  He’d taken a little longer getting ready, meticulously styling his hair to look as effortless as possible before choosing an outfit specially designed to catch the eye.  Though he sped through town, he aimed to arrive fashionably late, wanting to make an entrance.

Heather Holloway’s New Year’s Eve party had been the only thing anyone had been talking about for the past few weeks and he had it on good authority that Win was gunna be there.

And after his cowardice at Christmas, he was determined to win her back.

Glancing up at his reflection in the rear view mirror, he flashed his best grin.  “Hey Win,” he said, speaking aloud to the empty car as if she were there.  “Hey Win.  Winnie,” he repeated, chuckling softly as he switched his inflection, practicing what he wanted to say when he saw her.

“You’re looking good.  Though, you always look good,” he drawled, biting his lip before winking at his reflection, radiating confidence.  “What’s that?  You miss me?” he asked, his expression shifting to calculated surprise.  “I know you do, babe.  And I… I miss you too,” he breathed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Why don’t we put this whole foolish mess behind us, huh?” he asked, catching his gaze in the mirror, his eyes softening.  “Come back to me and we’ll forget any of this ever happened,” he urged, letting just enough emotion tinge his voice while still keeping it smooth and warm.  “I mean, after all, we’re perfect together.”

Catching his tongue between his teeth, he grinned, pleased with his performance. 

“She won’t be able to resist,” he breathed, bringing the cigarette perched between his fingers to his lips.

By the time the party was over, Billy was confident she’d be his again.

The road in front of Heather’s house was nearly packed full by the time Billy arrived, but he found a spot further down the street and parked, lighting a fresh cigarette before kicking open the door to step out into the slush.

God, but he still couldn’t stand the snow.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he made his way to the house, the music blaring inside seeping out into the cold night air.

Tamping the snow from his boots as he stepped inside, Billy blew out a long stream of smoke, feeling his cheeks and fingers sting at the sudden change in temperature.  Pushing his way through the crowded living room, he went in search of Win, spying Tommy and Carol in the corner with Tina.

Tina noticed him looking her way and smiled, waving to him.  He acknowledged her, but didn’t head over, still searching for Win’s dark rooted platinum bob amongst the crowd.  When he finally spotted her, his stomach twisted, white hot jealousy racing through his veins at the sight of her standing next to Eddie “the freak” Munson, one arm casually slung around her petite shoulders.

It had barely been a month since they’d split, she wouldn’t have moved on that quickly.  She couldn’t’ve.  Especially not with someone like him.

Win seemed to feel his gaze on her and turned, her doll-like eyes widening when they landed on him.  For a moment, she looked torn, her gaze holding his before Tommy clapped a hand on his shoulder, a smug grin on his freckled face as he joined Billy, and she quickly looked away again, slipping past Eddie to go get another drink.

“I heard she’s been hanging out with Munson and his lame band, and Nancy Wheeler’s bitchy cousin,” Tommy exclaimed, watching Billy from the corner of his eye, as if just waiting for a reaction.

Billy’s first instinct was to stride over there and introduce Munson to his fist, but something deep inside tugged at him—a tiny voice that sounded suspiciously like Win’s—telling him that that would only dig his grave deeper.

Though his jaw flexed and his hands balled into fists, Billy kept his expression as flat as he could, shrugging Tommy’s hand off his shoulder as he pushed into the crowd, away from Munson, instead following Win to the kitchen.  He found her by the counter, a half empty bottle of whiskey in her hand, the mouth of the bottle just leaving her pink lips, and he couldn’t help but grin at the way her gaze trailed over him, her face flushing.

He clearly still had an effect on her.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, the defiance in her voice mostly for show.

Billy shrugged, stepping closer, his fingers wrapping around the bottle in her hand.  “It’s a free country,” he said, wetting his lips as he plucked the bottle from her hand, bringing it to his mouth and taking a swig, the amber liquid warming him as it burned down his throat.

Win quickly tore her eyes away when he handed her back the bottle, his gaze focused on her.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

She snorted.  “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Bullshit–” Billy scoffed, leaning against the counter, boxing her in.  “I think you wanted to see me,” he drawled.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she exclaimed, though her body language told a different story and for a moment Billy let his mask drop.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured softly and Win’s eyes snapped back to his face, surprise flitting across her features.

“I’ve… missed you too,” she admitted in a small voice, her hand involuntarily clutching at his jacket as Billy took a chance and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering at the curve of her jaw.

“Yeah?” he breathed, leaning in closer, surprised at just how easy it had been to lure her back in.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, her breath hitching as his lips hovered just out of reach.

Billy grinned, bridging the remaining distance between them, his mouth pressing to hers, gentle at first, testing the waters.  When she hesitantly kissed him back, he dropped all pretense of holding back, his hand as her cheek slipping into her hair to cradle the back of her head as his tongue swiped against the seam of her lips.

With a soft moan, she opened her mouth to him, her tongue meeting his.  She tasted like whiskey and nicotine and Billy’s head swam while his heart hammered in his chest.  If he took Win’s hand and pressed it over his heart, she’d probably be able to feel it.

Suddenly, however, she tensed, pulling back abruptly, her hand against his chest the only thing stopping him from chasing her retreating lips and Billy’s eyes snapped open, his brows furrowing.

“Win, what–?”

“I can’t,” she choked out, squeezing her eyes shut as a conflicted expression twisted her face.  “I can’t do this,” she repeated, her voice growing firmer.

“Why the hell not?”

The words were out of Billy’s mouth before he could stop them, knowing the gruff demand would surely spur Win to retaliate, her defenses slamming securely back in place.

Hating that he was right, Billy grimaced as she pushed him back, her stormy eyes flashing.

“Is it cause of that freakshow you came here with?” he spat, his anger boiling over, getting the better of him.

“What?” Win snapped, her gaze like daggers.

“Munson.  You sleeping with him?”  he demanded, unable to back down now and Win scoffed, incredulous.

“No, it’s not like that,” she exclaimed, but Billy rolled his eyes, a humourless grin stretching his face as he barked a hollow laugh.

“C’mon Win, don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you,” she insisted levelly, hurt flickering in her eyes.  “Have you?” she snapped instead, wordlessly pleading with him to deny it.

Billy took a step closer, his breath ghosting across her face as he loomed over her.  “The only person I’ve even been able to even think about these past weeks, is you.  So, no.”

Win scoffed, turning her face away, blinking back the dampness that caught in her lashes as she crossed her arms over her chest.  “If you truly want me back, Billy, you need to prove you’ve changed,” she whispered, making herself meet his gaze.

“Do better.”

Without another word, she pushed past him, leaving him to contemplate what she’d said.

Growling, Billy snatched the bottle of whiskey she’d left behind and tossed it back, downing the rest of the amber liquid in several long swallows.

Do better?  What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Grabbing a quarter full bottle of vodka from the counter, Billy skulked back out to the living room, joining Tommy and the others.  His mood effectively soured, he sullenly watched the party from his spot against the wall, glowering as every so often he took a swig from the bottle in his hand.  Once he’d polished off the vodka, he’d grown bored, pushing off the wall to head to the keg across the room, scowling when he realized Tina had followed him over.

“Hey Billy,” she chirped, sidling up next to him as he grabbed an empty cup, filling it from the spigot, careful not to get too much foam.

“Tina,” he grunted in response, bringing the cup to his lips.

“Wanna pour me one?” she asked, holding her cup out to him.

He rolled his eyes, but did so anyway, ignoring the way she batted her eyelashes up at him.

“I heard about you and Win splitting,” she said, leaning in closer.  “Mondo bummer,” she murmured, though she didn’t sound very broken up about it.

Billy stared at her flatly, not in the mood for her games.  “Excuse me,” he muttered, stepping around her and stumbling back out into the crowd, his vision swimming slightly.  If Tina said something else, he didn’t hear it.

Glancing down at his watch, he realized it was nearly midnight and the urge to find Win again was growing stronger.  Letting his gaze sweep the room, he finally spotted her dancing with Beck, and though there was a smile curling her lips, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Despite the distraction, she was hurting.

Billy didn’t sense Tommy coming up beside him until he spoke, his voice slurring slightly.

“Dude, give it a rest already,” he said, bringing his drink to his lips.  “Sure Win’s hot an’ all, but there’s loads of other hot girls.  Girls that would willingly throw themselves at your feet.  You could be swimming in pussy,” he exclaimed, his sweeping gesture taking in the room.

Billy’s expression darkened, but he didn’t speak, and Tommy barrelled on.  “Face it, Billy, she ain’t comin’ back, and you know what, I’m gunna tell you somethin’.  You should be glad, because your little girlfriend?  She was a bitch,” he exclaimed.

The shit eating grin on his face faltered when Billy turned suddenly, grabbing shirt, his eyes flashing danger.  

“You wanna run that by me again?” he asked, his voice like a taut spring and the people around them went quiet, turning to watch.

Tommy’s eyes lit up in amusement, his grin returning wider as he held Billy’s fierce glare.  “Thought there were plenty of bitches in the sea, Hargrove?  Isn’t that what you told Harrington?” he taunted, brushing out of Billy’s grasp.

There was a beat where Billy merely gaped at him, seething, and Tommy began to laugh, making the mistake of turning his back on him.  He was still laughing when Billy caught his shoulder, spinning him back around, his fist connecting with Tommy’s stupid face.

The blow staunched Tommy’s laughter, wiping the amusement from his face, and he swung right back, missing Billy by an inch.  Taking the opening, Billy’s fist found Tommy’s nose, bloodying his knuckles.

“Fuck you, Hagan!” he growled, feeling hands on his jacket pulling him back.

“Fuck you Hargrove!” Tommy countered, blood streaming down his chin.

Taking advantage of Billy’s momentary distraction, Tommy threw a right hook, his fist catching Billy’s left brow before he was hauled back, the two pulled apart.  With a huff, Billy shook the hands off him, tugging at his jacket and wiping the blood from his brow before it could run into his eye.

As he straightened he found Win watching him, disappointment etched in her gaze before she turned away, following Eddie and Beck toward the door.

“Win, wait!”

Billy’s feet moved before his thoughts could catch up and he stumbled out the door after her, nearly losing his footing in the snow outside before he caught up to her, grabbing her arm to haul her back.  Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, his mouth colliding with hers in a searing, desperate kiss.

“Billy, no!” Win exclaimed, pushing him away, her voice cracking.  

“No, you know you want this,” he growled, his grasp on her arms tightening, not letting her pull away, trying to kiss her again.

“I said no, Billy!” she repeated, the sudden crack of her palm across his face leaving him stunned.

Fighting the urge to press his hand to his stinging cheek, his hands fell to his sides, balling into fists as a flash of heat washed through him–embarrassment and inappropriate arousal quickly tamped down as anger took its place.

“Fuck you, Win.”  His voice was level though he fought to keep it that way, his hurt and anger swelling, like an uncontrollable wave.  “You left me, just like she did.”

Win’s eyes widened at his words and she flinched as if he’d been the one to slap her.

“That’s not fair,” she breathed, her voice wavering.

“But it’s the truth,” Billy spat, the wave threatening to pull him out to sea.  “You left me just when I needed you the most!”

Win shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.  “Don’t compare me to her!  She left because of someone else’s actions.  I left because of yours.”

She swallowed, lifting her chin, the unshed tears sparkling in her lashes.

“The one wasn’t your fault.  This was.”

Before Billy could come up with a response, Win turned away, climbing into Munson’s van as Beck asked her if she was alright.

Billy’s breath misted in the air as it left his parted lips.  It wasn’t until the van pulled away that Billy realized people were staring and he felt bile rise in his throat at the humiliation.

Win’s slap had been the final death knell for whatever hope he’d had left that she’d come back to him.

“The fuck are you looking at?” he barked, scattering the remainder of the watchers.

As he lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, he heard the partygoers inside counting down the last seconds to midnight, but he was already heading to his car.

Tomorrow he’d keep up appearances, tonight he just wanted to be alone.

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#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #oc: win lewis #otp: lewgrove #joz.fic #fic: separate ways #fic: i don't think you notice