#follow for more cough drop ratings

[jattendschaton]

It's crazy how much better tasting ricola cough drops are compared to everything else

#bean talks #bean's sarcastically exciting life #except for the ones that have liquid in the center that liquid is ViLE #honestly though they still taste better than any other cough drop up until that point #best cough drop is cepastat though because it just numbs your throat #i dont want to feel aNYthign #follow for more cough drop ratings

[mediumsizedpidegon]

Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.

There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.

There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.

The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.

There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.

The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.

A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.

People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.

Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.

During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.

The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.

#amity park is weird #danny phantom #dp #amity park #i love wordbuilding :)) #i didn't mention it but i think Josie the lacemaker dies only a year after the ghost shit starts happening and becomes a ghost herself. #The Drs. Fentons don't notice :) #however they would notice the Ghost Pets so there's a town-wide conspiracy to keep them in the dark about it/keep them away #sorry Drs. Fenton but Snuggles the Nightmare Ghost Cat is beloved by all. you're not going to catch her #my posts

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ a mating chase just for you <3

Pt 2

Word count › 2.1k (💀)

Rating › NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › light dub con, a/b/o

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

Tanaka (Name) was a proud straight A student. Student class president. A student many parents dreamed their child was. But unfortunately, he was a beta.

To others, this didn’t matter but to his family—a long line of prestigious alphas… He was a disappointment. (Name) had no longer allowed that to bother him anymore.

He just focused on getting good grades and setting himself apart from others. Yes, it was originally to get attention from his family but it never happened.

(Name) knew he just had to live with it. A sigh left his lips as he stretched out, a yawn on his lips. He was on the roof top eating his lunch when his nose twitched.

Smoke.

A snarl appeared on his lips as he shot up and followed the nasty smell to it’s owner. There, a corner not too far from the door, sat a random student.

“Smoking? On school property?” (Name) asked, gaining the student’s attention. Much to his own surprise, the student didn’t look scared. Not one bit.

A smirk was on the student’s face as he stood up and walked over to (Name). He was taller and more athletic than (Name). Track, possibly.

“What? Are you going to snitch?” The student laughed, blowing a puff of smoke into (Name)’s face.

(Name) coughed at the smell and reached up to pull the cigarette from the student’s mouth, dropping it onto the floor to step on it.

He grinned at the dumbed look the student gave him. “No. Do it again and I will. People deserve two chances. Now get to class.”

With that, he was off to pick up his lunch and go back to class. But he wasn’t able to get far when a hand grabbed his wrist.

“What?!” (Name) yelled before he was rudely slammed into the fence surrounding the roof top.

Maybe (Name) was just crazy but he felt a blush creep on his face when he got a better look at the student in front of him. This student was beautiful, really. Shaggy hair that almost covered his eyes and a mole right underneath his right eye.

“A beta like you has no idea what type of trouble you could’ve been in if it was any other alpha you did this to.” He said, his eyes scanning (Name)’s face.

“Alpha, beta, omega! That’s all you guys fucking care about. Now get off!”

“It does matter. Because you’re beta you don’t notice it but it’s our identity. And someone as weak as you should be careful angering an alpha.”

(Name) rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure. Now get off.”

“Watanabe Riki.”

“Eh?”

“My name.”

“Oh well, I didn’t ask. Tanaka (Name).”

Riki simply huffed before pulling away, a small smirk on his lips. (Name) fixed his clothing, making sure his glasses were sitting straight on his nose.

“You look like a cat,” Riki muttered before walking away.

(Name) was honestly confused. Who just says that and walks away…? Oh well, he hoped to never come across the little shit again.

ꕥ

Life doesn’t go the way he wants, obviously. Because here he was, staring down at a student that was said to be still in the gym. They were in the storage closet, biting at a jacket.

Even as a beta, (Name) knew when an alpha was going into rut. And right in front of him was Watanabe Riki, furiously biting at his own jacket.

It had been maybe a month or so since he last saw him.

He had asked around if anyone knew him but most omegas whined at how good he smelled or how beautiful he was. Other alphas said that he was either cool or a little shit. Betas didn’t care about him.

Most betas kept to themselves really. Since betas were so rare compared to everyone else it made sense. (Name) didn’t have much friends though. Only one omega girl, Kimura Nana.

A teacher had told him to make sure the gym was empty before locking it. (Name) made sure to stay farther back from Riki, not wanting to be noticed by him yet.

He needed a teacher. But what would the teacher do? The only teachers left were two betas. If he made any sudden sounds, would Riki get scared and run away?

A grunt stopped his thinking as he turned back to face Riki only to jump when he was much closer than before. (Name) was terrified. Yeah, previously he didn’t care about that stuff but Riki scared him.

Ever since his weird little speech about not upsetting the wrong alpha, he got a bit scared.

Riki wasn’t even wrong. Alphas were way stronger than omegas or betas. It certainly wasn’t fair but he had to take that up with biology.

“Watanabe….You need to call your parents.” (Name) muttered, holding a hand out to make sure he wouldn’t come closer.

Riki was silent as he glanced around before sniffing the air. His pupils dilated as he turned his attention back on (Name).

“(Name)…” first name basis already?! “Why’d you hide it?” Riki question, a childlike grin on his face.

“Hide what…? What are you talking about?”

(Name) was frozen in his spot as Riki stepped closer. He gasped in shock as Riki pulled down at his collar, giving access to his neck. Riki leaned down and sniffed, a small sound of purring being heard.

He’s heard his mother and father purr once, not towards him. No one has ever purred about anything he’s done for them. (Name) couldn’t help his sudden interest in Riki’s odd behavior.

“That you’re an omega.”

“Hah?! You’re going crazy, Watanabe! Give me your phone so I can call your parents!” (Name) raised a hand to push him away only to not even make him flinch.

Riki smiled dumbly at him. Yeah, this rut was taking over his brain. (Name) flinched at the touch of his hair as Riki moved it away for more access to his neck.

(Name) had been growing out his hair. It was mainly as a fuck you to his mother since she believed he needed to at least be masculine if he fucked up being an alpha.

It had only really reached being a mullet at this point but a few stands had reached his shoulders.

“I think we’re made for each other, Omega.”

“I’m not—”

“Run.”

(Name) blinked. “Huh?”

Riki stood up to his full height, easily towering over (Name) with his 6 feet and 2 inches. (Name) in comparison was just around 5’8. Betas usually didn’t grow taller than average anyway.

“Run, Omega. Unless you just want to give yourself up now.”

(Name) wasn’t exactly thinking when he immediately began to run. Riki wasn’t just talking out of his ass. He was talking about a mating chase.

And (Name) running was basically confirmation that he wanted to be mated. People rarely did this type of mating anymore, most being too lazy.

It was really only a way to get the couple extra horny for their first mating. (Name) wasn’t a runner, especially compared to an alpha who possibly played track.

The sun was already set as he tried to find any teachers to help. But they were all gone. What the fuck!?! He panicked before realizing he could hide in the student council classroom.

Bad part was that it was on the third floor. Using any remaining strength he had, he ran up the stairs to the third floor. (Name) was tired.

God, he put all the energy into studying that he forgot to train his endurance. He was right outside the door, panting as he fished out the key to open it.

It was right after he opened it, he was shoved inside and the door slammed close. Riki was right there, standing in front of the door.

(Name) groaned. He didn’t have any energy to fight him off. “Watanabe. Your rut is making you stupid.”

Riki didn’t answer, walking over to (Name). (Name) struggled on what to do. He couldn’t think straight. Something was wrong with him.

His pants felt wet…

Suddenly, he was pushed on top of the table in the center of the room. (Name) grunted out in pain as Riki muttered something.

“You got me worked up, Omega.” Riki grinned, reaching down to pull off (Name)’s trousers. It fell to the floor, pooling at his feet with his boxers.

(Name) gasped at the feeling of Riki’s mouth on his ass. Oh, he was really dripping slick. But that didn’t make any sense.

Was he a late bloomer?

He couldn’t think straight with Riki hungrily eating his slick. The feeling of his tongue really disgusted him in his mind but his body was into it.

Whimpers left his mouth as he tried to pull away but was held close by Riki.

“I’ll fuck you properly in your nest, okay?” Riki said.

“Nest…?” (Name) whined, confused on what the fuck he was talking about. He was mainly surprised that Riki could actually think clearly right now.

Was he not fully in rut yet?

“I just had to make sure I wasn’t smelling something else,” Riki muttered, pulling up (Name)’s pants.

“I’m so confused…” (Name) pouted, finally being able to move around to face Riki.

“You’re an omega. That’s all. I found out when we first met.” Riki said, reaching over to pull off (Name)’s shirt.

“What?? How? I’m a beta!”

Riki hummed, “you used to be. But I always knew there was more to you.”

“Huh?”

“We went to the same middle school. But I don’t think you remember me. Since idiot alphas like me aren’t important,” Riki snarled, a look of anger in his eyes.

Oh.

Oh… (Name) was a bit of a little shit in middle school. He was no bully but he certainly hadn’t learned to not say everything out loud about people he didn’t like.

Due to his obvious mommy and daddy issues, he started to take out any anger on all alphas. He had stopped in high school—having grown up but of course, he couldn’t change what he did in the past.

“So did you fake your rut or something?”

“No. It’s coming in a few hours. I’m sure if you knew or pay attention to alphas, you’d know that if I really was in full blown rut that I wouldn’t have done a mating chase.”

Riki lightly nipped at his neck, earning a gasp. “I would’ve fucked you right then and there.”

(Name) blushed. He could feel more slick dripping out of his asshole. Oh he’d have to get used to that.

“I originally just wanted to scare you but I think this is better,” Riki chuckled before grasping at (Name)’s hair, pulling his head back.

(Name) gasped in shock as he felt sharp teeth on his neck. His scent gland. Riki was biting it. A sudden rush of pleasure passed through him as he arched his back in a scream.

He was getting claimed to some random guy.

How would his parents think? How would this affect him in the future?!

“Awe, you came,” Riki said after he pulled away, blood staining his lips. His hand rubbed at the tent in (Name)’s pants that were wet from cum.

(Name) twitched at the feeling before pulling at Riki’s shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. It was really the sudden claim, is what (Name) would tell himself later.

But a claim doesn’t really do that. Sure it’ll make him feel closer to Riki but it’d never force him to be affectionate towards him. Riki also seemed confused about this sudden kiss.

(Name) pulled away, a dazed look in his eyes as he leaned down to his neck and bit his scent gland. Riki grabbed at (Name)’s waist but couldn’t push him away.

He really only planned to screw (Name) over but not allow him to claim him back. But now they were both screwed in being claimed to each other.

(Name) pulled away, only a little bit of blood on his lips as he smiled at Riki. Yeah, he was definitely not thinking straight right now.

Riki would ignore the happy purring his chest as he picked up (Name) to take home. He was lucky his parents weren’t home tonight.

He knew no sane person would ever claim anyone they hated. But he did hate (Name) for bullying him in middle school.

He wanted revenge. It was literally the only reason why he followed him to this dumb fancy school.

But he only did something this year, their third year.

No way, did he actually want (Name)…?

No.

No….

Riki shook his head. He needed to see a therapist, quickly.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Riki’s debut!! Obsessive idiot x mean idiot, is basically the trope for reader and Riki lol

Their love is much more insane than my other characters lowkey but they do fall in love. Well reader does cuz Riki is already obsessed

Next fic will be about meeting the parents

But my next original character content will be for Keita’s meet cute! Thanks for reading!

Requests are open for Riki too, if you got any ideas you wanna see me write

#bottom male reader

[slut4thebroken]

Exposure Therapy pt. 10

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader

Summary | Jon let’s you go on a trip with him, then can’t control his weird, freaky sex fantasies lmaoo.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, consensual sex, attempted sex trafficking?? (but like not really?), fear play (but consensual this time), actually everything’s consensual this time lol, masturbation, voyeurism, bondage, degradation, verbal humiliation, praise.

Words | 4.2k

Notes | Kinky smut ahead! Beware😼 I really played into the “he hates everyone but you” trope in this chapter and I’m so here for it.

Ao3 link | <3

Fic Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part 9

“I’m going out to meet someone about something, I shouldn’t be gone long.” 

“Oh… okay. Can I come?” He examined you and after a while you couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze as you backtracked. “I- I don’t have to… I just,”

“Fine.” He suddenly said, making your face light up. 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Stop wasting time and get dressed or we’ll be late.”

“Sorry.” You hurried to change into your stolen clothes, looking a little odd next to him in a full suit. He instructed you to bring the wristband he gave you along with the gas mask and then you were leaving, walking along the docks closer to the water now. When he put his mask on, you did the same, not sure what to expect. 

“No talking.” He said quietly when a few guys were in your eyeline. You nodded in response, following him until he stopped in front of the men. 

“Didn’t know Scarecrow had a partner.” A man snickered. 

“Yeah, who’s your pet?” 

“Enough. Do you have what I need or not?” He snapped, voiced distorted by the modulator in the mask. 

“We got it. But I think we might want a different form of payment now.” The man in front smirked, the other men muttering agreements. 

“We had a deal.” 

“Yeah well, our terms changed.” He shrugged, eyeing you with a grin that made your stomach twist. 

“You’ll give me what I want and in exchange, you don’t want money, you want her?” He confirmed, making you stiffen. He wouldn’t… Would he?

“Yep. With a pretty thing like her, we’ll make plenty more than what you’re willing to give.” 

“Fine. We have a deal.” You turned to him with wide eyes, silently asking what the fuck he was doing, but he didn’t even glance at you. The main guy motioned to someone behind him who walked away to grab something. 

“C'mere, sweetheart. I wanna get a good look at you.” He sneered and your heart dropped to your stomach. Was he really going to do this?

“You can have her after I receive what I paid for.” He said sternly and as if on cue, the man returned holding a large briefcase. When the leader gestured, he handed it to the man by your side. He grabbed your arm and walked you closer to the men, making your heart rate and breathing speed up. Once he was in front of them, he pushed you forward and you landed against the leader with a startled grunt. 

“We’re gonna have some fun with you before we start selling you, don’t worry.” He smirked, making your blood run cold. Hands were running over your body as all of the men focused on you. When someone reached for the mask, a cloud of his toxin was suddenly surrounding you, making the men cough as they staggered back. A hand grabbing your arm made you jump and you turned, finding Jon pulling you away from them as they started screaming. 

You waited until you were back inside and he set the briefcase on the desk before saying anything. Starting with a shove, you ripped the gas mask off, letting it fall to the floor, then pushed him again, making him stagger back. 

“You— dick!” When you tried to push him again, his hands circled your wrists in a bruising grip. 

“Stop.” He warned, the modulator making him sound even more intimidating. “You’re mine.” He explained firmly. 

“That’s supposed to automatically make me assume that you’re not going to do what you literally said you would do?” You hissed, voice shaking from anger that was concealing fear. 

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asked, making you falter. He released your wrists then removed his mask. 

“You scared me.” You whispered with a frown. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, never breaking eye contact as you searched for any sign of a lie. “I had to improvise. If it’s any consolation, I’m planning to spend that money on a mattress for you.” He said softly, making your frown relax. 

“I’m sorry I called you a dick.” 

“You get a pass this time because I deserved it.” He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. “On the bright side, you seem to be coping with your fears much better now. Did you cry?” 

“No.” You furrowed your brows at his words. 

“How did you feel?” He asked, stepping into your space. 

“Scared.” You whispered. 

“Tell me about it.” He said lowly, eyes darkening with arousal. You swallowed thickly as you processed his request. 

“Tell you what?” 

“How it felt, what you were thinking. Tell me how scared you were.” He rasped and you could feel arousal pooling in your stomach from his tone. 

“I- I was shaking… and nauseous. I thought you- you… I didn’t want you to leave me with them.” You whimpered, giving him a pout that had no visible effect on him. “The last time I was that scared was when you used the toxin on me.” You whispered. He was suddenly pulling you into a kiss and you let out a startled moan as you landed against his body. He walked you back until your thighs hit the desk, then lifted you onto it, never breaking the kiss. Placing your hands in his hair, you pulled, making him groan against your lips. When he pulled back, you let out a low whine, trying to lean forward to chase his lips, but he stopped you by putting a hand on your neck. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, tilting his head slightly to emphasize the question. When you nodded, he tightened his grip on your neck. 

“Yes.” You quickly corrected yourself. He set the mask next to your thigh on the desk, then brought his hand up to brush your hair behind your ear, keeping his hand near your face. Making sure you were watching, he placed his fingers only centimeters above the lever on the wristband he was wearing. You stiffened, swallowing thickly against his hand as you eyed the threat only inches from your face. 

“Are you scared?” He asked quietly, making your eyes snap to his. Despite the very obvious threat, you knew that he wouldn’t do it, especially because he wasn’t wearing a mask. 

“You wouldn’t gas yourself too.” You tried to sound brave and confident, but the tremble in your voice was obvious. His lips curled into a small smirk, making your stomach twist. 

“Smart girl.” He picked up the mask and put it on, then moved his hand back in front of your face. “What about now?” Your gaze moved between his hand and the icy blue eyes through the small holes in the mask. Even though, logically, you knew he wouldn’t because he told you before he couldn’t even if he wanted to… the threat was definitely still there. But instead of the nauseating twist, your stomach was twisting in a different way. A way that made your skin flush and your core ache. 

“Yes.” You whispered. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Your cheeks heated up and you looked away from him, embarrassed. 

“No.” Your voice was barely audible. The low chuckle he released behind the modulator made you shiver, not used to hearing something so ominous. He suddenly stepped back and you almost whined at the loss of his touch. 

“Strip.” He ordered, making your eyes widen. You tentatively slid off the desk onto the floor, then started undressing. Once you got to your underwear, you hesitated, but when he didn’t do or say anything, you slid them down your legs with a blush. “Sit on the desk again.” You obeyed and he stepped between your legs once you were seated, then placed his hands back the way they were, one on your neck, the other in front of your face. 

“Touch yourself.” Your eyes widened as you stared at him in surprise. When he moved his fingers closer to the lever though, you immediately brought your hand to between your legs. Staring through the holes in the mask, you watched as his eyes trailed down your body, focusing on the way you were rubbing your clit. 

“You like this don’t you?” He asked curiously, making your face flush. “Being at my mercy… Feeling humiliated, vulnerable.” He elaborated. “Knowing that what happens to you is under my control. It scares you, but it also excites you.” Letting out a shaky breath, you rubbed your clit faster, already feeling your orgasm growing. “I could use this at any moment and you’d have no choice but to take it.” You eyed his hand for a moment before looking back to his eyes. 

“Jon,” You whispered, voice barely audible. 

“No. Scarecrow.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that request at all. “Say my name again and you’ll be punished. Understand?” You nodded, feeling breathless, but his hand tightened on your throat in a warning. 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, Scarecrow.” You whispered, cheeks flushing at the unfamiliar name for him. 

“Good girl.” He muttered, making your breath catch in your throat, still barely used to such praise. 

“Can I come please?”

“You think you deserve to?” You could only stare into his piercing gaze for another moment before you had to look away. 

“I- I don’t know.” You whined. When he suddenly stepped back and let his hands drop to his sides, you let out a heavy breath. 

“Get up.” He ordered as he started removing his tie. You obeyed and waited eagerly on shaky legs. “Turn around.” Once you were facing the desk, he pulled your hands behind your back and restrained your wrists with his tie. 

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly, voice no longer distorted. 

“Please don’t stop.” You whispered. The thought of him stopping was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“God you’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” His mask was back on now, modulator distorting his voice, making him all the more intimidating. He suddenly fisted your hair and yanked your head back, pointing the wristband at your face as he held you still. “I bet you want me to use this on you.” He snickered and you did your best to shake your head as you whined. 

“What was that?” He used his grip on your hair to push your head down and then back up, as if you were nodding. “‘Yes, scarecrow’? If you insist.”

“N-no,” You whimpered, pressing your body against his to try and escape the gas that could invade your senses at any moment.  

“No? I don’t know… Seems like you want it.” His hand moved from your hair to your neck, squeezing tightly and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want just a small taste?” You could barely hear him behind the mask, even with his lips so close to your ear. 

“Please…” Your voice trembled in fear, but you still ached to keep touching yourself. 

“What if I said the only way I’d fuck you is if I got to have my fun? Are you desperate enough to sacrifice your sanity, my love?” You whimpered and squeezed your thighs together, just needing him to fuck you already. 

“Jon…” You whined, pushing your hips back into his, but his hand on your neck tightened significantly and he let out a low growl. 

“What did I say?”

“I- I’m sorry! Scarecrow! I meant Scarecrow— Please, I’m sorry.” You rushed out, worried you had pushed him far enough to follow through on his threat. 

“Poor thing…” He cooed mockingly. “You touch yourself for only a few minutes and already you’re too dumb to follow a simple order.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried, tears welling in your eyes, but from humiliation of the situation and his words, not because you were genuinely upset. 

“What do you think you’d see? You said you’re not scared of me anymore so what would you see, little one?” The hand with the wristband remained by your head, which made you stay planted to his shoulder. The other started dragging down your body, over your sternum, to your stomach, then teasing your thighs. 

“I- I don’t know…” You whined, squirming to try and get his hand where you wanted it. 

“No?” You shook your head with a whimper and his hand snaked back up to your stomach, teasingly rubbing the soft skin. “You don’t think you’d see yourself with my child? After all, a come hungry whore like yourself is bound to get pregnant at one point or another. It’s just a matter of time, isn’t it?” 

“J- …Scarecrow,” You whimpered, writhing against him. “Please.”

“Please what? Find out?” 

“No! Please— please fuck me.” He suddenly removed his hands from your body, then pushed you over the desk. Grabbing your hips, he pressed his covered bulge against your ass, teasingly grinding against you, making you even needier. 

“You want my cock?” 

“Yes,” You gasped out, pushing your hips back against him. He pulled back and you were about to complain, but quickly shut your mouth once you heard the rustling of his clothes as he freed his length. He swiped the head through your folds, making you jump at the sudden pleasure. 

“Beg.” 

“Please, Sc- …Scarecrow.” You whined, embarrassed. When he remained silent, you whined even louder. “Please! Please fuck me!” He relented and you choked on a gasp when he applied more pressure until the fat head of his cock was breaching your hole. He didn’t stop until his hips were flush to your ass, feeling so incredibly deep that you couldn’t tell if it hurt or not. 

“Fuck— oh my god.” You whimpered, clenching your fists behind your back as you struggled to adjust to his size. The low, distorted groan from behind you made you shiver. “Please!” You cried, trying to wiggle your hips under him. He slowly dragged his length out, then pushed back in at the same speed, maintaining that rhythm. 

“Shh, just take it. Be a good little flesh light, close that fuck hole, and just take my cock.” Despite the warning, your mouth remained open, loud moans slipping past your lips as your walls fluttered around him. “That’s a good whore— shit… Making me feel so good, little one.”

“Oh god- please,” You sobbed. He sped up a little, grabbing your hips tightly and holding you still as he rocked into you. “Faster.” You said through a moan and surprisingly, he obeyed. He sped up even more, pulling you back by your hips with each thrust until you were moaning uncontrollably and babbling out senseless pleas. He suddenly leaned over your body, his cock pushing against your cervix almost uncomfortably as he kept thrusting. 

“Can you hear how wet your fucking cunt is?” The distorted voice right next to your ear made you shiver as you let out a quiet whimper. You could hear it. The sound of your wetness was almost deafening, even with your moans and the sound of his hips hitting against your ass. “Such a fucking slut getting off on me threatening you.” As your knees buckled and weakened, you were glad the desk was holding your weight up. 

“You want it, don’t you? You want it so bad, your pussy is practically drooling for it.” He suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, aiming the wristband on his other hand at your face again. You let out a loud moan and he chuckled quietly. “Fuck- your pussy squeezes me so tight when I do this. How’d I get so lucky, huh? I mean, I have my own personal whore at my disposal. And not only is she desperate for my cock, but she’s desperate for my toxin as well.” You whined and shook your head, the humiliation and pain on your scalp making the tears in your eyes threaten to fall. 

“No..” 

“Yes.” He said simply. “You can deny it all you want, but your body knows what it wants.” 

“Scarecrow,” You sobbed, quickly approaching your orgasm. 

“I know, little one. It’s okay.” He cooed, moving his hand to your neck and lifting your torso off the desk, making you put your weight on your shaky legs. “Are you close?” You nodded rapidly with a loud moan as he kept fucking you, his cock feeling so much deeper in this position. 

“I’m going to count down from ten. If you don’t come, I’m going to use this.” He moved the hand with the wristband to your eyeline to make sure you knew what he was talking about. “Do you understand?” 

“Y-yes.” You whimpered. He sped up his thrusts significantly, making your release a startled moan. 

“Ten.” His hand on your neck tightened, making your head feel light and floaty from that and the pleasure. “Nine. Think you can do it little one?” You nodded with a whimper, already feeling incredibly close now. “Eight.” Through the modulator in the mask, you could hear the way he was starting to breathe heavily, nearing his own orgasm as well. 

“Seven… God- maybe I should just use it anyway. You’d look so pretty coming on my cock as your fears consumed you.” He said quietly, making you let out a choked sob.

“Please.” You cried. 

“Six. Do you want that, pretty girl?” 

“N-no.” You whimpered, but it wasn’t believable when you moaned before you could even finish getting the word out. 

“I think you do… Why else would you be squeezing me so damn tight? Five.” His thrusts turned frenzied as his own orgasm grew even closer. “I can’t wait to feel you milk my cock while you scream and writhe in fear. Four.” Even though you were still mostly sure he wouldn’t actually gas you, the more he spoke, the less confident you felt in your answer. Regardless, it was hard to focus on— hard to care— with his cock pistoning in and out of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Three. I hope you’re close.” You nodded as much as you could with his hand on your neck. “Yeah, I can tell. I can feel it… Two.” Your breathing grew rapidly, from fear or arousal you weren’t sure. 

“Ready?”

“Please— please, oh god.. please let me come.” You cried, trying to make yourself come, but struggling without his explicit permission. 

“One. Come, baby. Squeeze my fucking cock like your life depends on it, because it does.” You let out a loud sob that turned into a moan when the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped. He fucked you through it, hand tightening on your neck as he held you close, fully pressed to his body. “That’s it. Do a good job and make me come.”

“Oh god,” You sobbed walls fluttering around his length, making his hips stutter. “Please- please come. I need it… Need you to fill me up.” You whined as the tears in your eyes finally started to fall. They weren’t from fear, but rather desperation with a hint of overstimulation as you came down from your orgasm. His hand moved from in front of your face to around your stomach, pulling up against his body as he rutted into you eagerly. 

He stilled with a low, distorted groan and you could feel his cock twitching against your walls as he obeyed your request. You panted heavily, doing your best to ignore the new fire growing in your belly as he moaned and whined, trying to bury himself even deeper in your warmth. 

When he finally stilled and his moans died down, he removed his hand from your neck and wrapped it over your chest, still holding you against him. 

“Jon?” You asked quietly, making him startle as if he forgot you were there. He took the mask off, then pushed your hair behind your ear to place a kiss on your neck. 

“Are you okay?” He mumbled against your skin, both of you still panting. 

“Better than okay. But if you let me go, my knees are going to give out and I’m definitely going to fall.” He chuckled quietly as he stayed buried in your neck for only a moment longer before reluctantly pulling back. 

“Let me help you onto the desk, then I’ll carry you to the couch, okay?” You nodded and he maneuvered you to sit on the desk, both of you wincing when he pulled out. He settled between your legs then reached around behind you to undo his tie. “I wasn't too rough?” He discarded the fabric on the desk then lightly grabbed your wrists to pull them in front of you and massage them gently. 

“I loved it, Jon. Honestly. It was perfect.” He didn’t respond and instead just wrapped your legs around his hips to lift you and carry you over to the couch. He gently laid you down then took off his shirt and pants, laying them neatly over the back of the couch. When he grimaced as he started tucking his softening cock, still wet from your arousal, back in his underwear, you stopped him. You moved forward enough to wrap your lips around it, moaning at your combined tastes. 

“What— oh fuck… What are you doing?” He asked, hissing as you licked his sensitive cock. After a few more licks, you pulled back, giving him a saccharine smile. 

“There. All clean.” You said, tucking his semi back in his underwear. 

“Tease.” He muttered with a small smile, laying down and pulling you into him. He was quiet for a while as he stroked your hair and let you trail your fingers over his torso, but eventually he broke the silence. “Are you sure it was okay? I didn’t mean to do all of that. I- I shouldn’t… have done all of that. Not when you were on the verge of tears after what happened.” Honestly, you had forgotten about what happened until he mentioned it. You leaned up so he could look into your eyes as you spoke. 

“I loved it, Jon. We’ve never.. done anything like that,” You meant the consensual part of consensual non consent, “and I really really liked it. It was fucking hot.” He didn’t react to your confession as he studied you carefully, searching for the hidden truth behind your words. “And honestly, you made me a little curious about how your toxin would affect someone who’s that horny. Almost enough to make me want to try it.” 

“Are you mad?” He asked in disbelief, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

“I- I just… It would be interesting to study, don’t you think?” You said sheepishly, feeling more foolish the longer he looked at you like you truly belong in Arkham. “Sorry… Forget I said anything.” You laid back down, feeling incredibly embarrassed. 

“I was only referring to you wanting to try it yourself.” He explained. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

“It was stupid anyway. I’ll leave the sciencey things to you from now on.” You tried to lighten the mood, but your tone didn’t convey the lightheartedness you meant for it to. 

“Would you like to be involved in the.. sciencey things?” You were only mostly sure he wasn’t making fun of you. “You can’t help with the chemistry behind it obviously, but if you want to be involved in the rest, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“I- I don’t know… I didn’t handle myself very well tonight. It’s probably not a good idea.” You muttered despondently. 

“Can I ask you something?” You nodded in response. “Was that the first time you’ve ever attended an illegal deal as a fugitive?” 

“…Yes?” Obviously it was. 

“That is my point. You’ve never done anything like that before, of course you didn’t handle it very well.”  

“Oh. Yeah I guess that’s true.” You trailed off into silence as your thoughts consumed you. Should you? It sounds… not necessarily fun, but like it could be something you wouldn’t exactly hate. You’d get to spend more time with him too. 

“Think about it for a while.” He said, dragging you out of your thoughts. 

“Okay.” You sighed. Then, “Jon?” He hummed, telling you to continue. “Why did you take off your clothes when you were already dressed?” You asked, continuing trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You didn’t mind it— not even a little bit. You were just curious. 

“I assumed you’d prefer it.” He said simply, minding his tone. 

“Why do you think that?” You asked, then, “Not that you’re wrong— I’m just wondering.” He let out a quiet sigh and you laid your palm flat against his chest to feel his heart that was beating only slightly faster than normal. 

“Because I prefer it.” His heart pounded faster and harder, but so did yours. “It’s different like this than being dressed.” Jealously, you wondered who else he’s laid like this with. Surely with any previous girlfriends, maybe even his mom. But at the same time, you’re not sure if you believe that. The way he expresses physical touch is almost awkward, unpracticed, as if he doesn’t have any previous experience laying with anyone but you. While the thought made your stomach flutter, it also made your chest ache with sympathy. “Falling asleep on me?” He suddenly asked. 

“No- sorry. Just thinking.” You said quietly, picking up the motions of your fingers against his chest again. You couldn’t believe that Jonathan Crane— the Scarecrow— was such a softy. But not just a softy in general- only for you. The thought was enough to make you almost nauseous with butterflies. 

Part 11

Taglist

@arcanebabe @quietnymph11 @dynamitehacke @pedrisgatorade @mandowhatnow @thefandomdiaries07 @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @mrkdvidal1989 @nx-0w @yrluvvr @arieslost @some-clever-username @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @geekmom3 @pleasant-meadow (didn’t let me tag —>) @imlikefrhungry @melanieani @oopy @slay-walker @annalauras-stuff @anakin-dilf @riddler-zs @tumblin-theworldaway @fire-treasure-iii @ephiiphanyy

#exposure therapy #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #scarecrow x reader smut #scarecrow

[jexnkookie]

BTS: In the Secret (Idol! Jungkook x Reader) [Chapter 3]

Summary: Big Hit announces a new season of In the Soop with a twist; one lucky Army is going to join the members for an entire summer of filming, picked by a random poll. You were selected, and ready to have an amazing summer. But what happens when you win something else that's a bit more complicated; the heart of the group's maknae?

Rating: M (18+)

Chapter Warnings: None.

Tag List: @cassies-cookies @hoeinthehouse @jjeonjjk7 @kaitieskidmore97 @leetha43 @rrosiitas @whoa-jo

As the sun went down, Yoongi made good on his promise to share his whiskey with you. A bet is a bet, after all. But once the other members saw the bottles coming out of their hiding place in the kitchen, suddenly everyone had an empty glass that needed to be filled. A few drinks led to everyone sitting in the living room together, talking and enjoying each other’s company. Jungkook, however, was still stewing over the events earlier that day in the pool. It was burned into his brain, and it just wouldn’t stop until he talked to someone about it. Jin, who was seated right next to him, seemed to be the best solution. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook said softly, not wanting to draw attention to the conversation. “What game were you playing with Y/N in the pool?” 

“Just water guns. She beat me!” He laughed. “I thought I had her, but Taehyung protected her.” 

“Mhm.” Jungkook pursed his lips, watching as you sat next to Taehyung and smiled at him warmly. “They get along well, don’t they?” 

“Ah, I think I see what you’re getting at.” Jin whispered as he followed Jungkook’s eyesight to note what had his attention. “Someone in this room has a bit of a crush on Y/N. Don’t worry, hyung’s got this.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widened and his stomach sank at Jin’s words. As Jin stood up, seemingly to get everyone’s attention, Jungkook felt like melting into the couch until he was completely hidden into the cushions. Whatever the oldest member meant by that, it wasn’t going to be what Jungkook had in mind. 

“Why don’t we place truth or dare?” Jin asked the group of drunk faces. “Taehyung, you want to go first?” 

“Uh…. sure?” He question, sitting up a bit straighter as eyes fell on him. “I guess dare?” 

“I dare you to…..” Jin thought for a moment, before landing on his decision. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.” 

If someone had dropped a pin in the room, anyone could’ve heard it. Everyone held their breath, not knowing how you would react. Jungkook’s eyes grew even wider as he stared at you, his heart beating fast in his chest. As he focused on your face to gauge your reaction, ready to jump in if you were showing signs of being uncomfortable, Hoseok watched him in a similar way. Understanding how sensitive Jungkook really is, Hobi wanted to make sure he was ok while also respecting his decision not to reveal his feelings. 

“Hyung, c’mon, Y/N doesn’t have to do this.” Taehyung pouted, before turning to you. “We’ve just been drinking, and we play dumb games when we drink…” 

“No, it’s ok.” You said, smiling politely. “I don’t mind. It’s just one little kiss, what’s the harm?” 

“A-Are you sure?” Taehyung clarified, his big brown eyes looking into yours in surprise. “It’s really ok if you don’t want to.” 

“Seriously, what’s the big deal?” You giggled, clearly influenced a bit by Yoongi’s whiskey. “Watch, we’ll do it right now.” 

To say Jungkook was fuming would be an understatement. Watching you lean towards Taehyung and give him a quick, innocent peck on the lips, making the man’s cheeks blush, was more than he could take. Even though you clearly meant nothing by it, and Jungkook knew you were just playing the game, he had had enough of the show. The room felt heavy to him, like he couldn’t breathe under its weight. 

“I’m going to bed.” He announced bluntly, making everyone turn away from you and Taehyung to face him.

“Yeah, I uh… I think we’ve all probably had enough to drink.” Yoongi coughed before gathering up the glasses. “I think that’s a good call.” 

Jungkook glared at Taehyung, who was too busy looking at your lips like a toddler eyeing a jar of candy, to notice. The youngest member walked out of the room, trying his best not to look so obviously effected by something so small. Bam greeted him at the door of the guest house with a wagging tail, but the wagging stopped as Jungkook barged right past his pup, ready to throw himself into bed and sulk. 

He laid there alone, in the dark, trying to lighten the heaviness in his chest. His thoughts raced, and he knew he had to get you alone. Unable to sleep due to his racing thoughts, he heard the front door open and your voice giggling alongside Taehyung’s. You were obviously trying to be quiet, assuming that Jungkook was asleep, but he listened in on every word. His heart sank knowing you were with Taehyung, because he didn’t have a bedroom in this guest house. Why would he come here with you? 

“I’m really sorry.” Taehyung whispered to you, not wanting to wake Jungkook. As your bedroom was right next to Jungkook’s, he listened in to your conversation. “I hope you didn’t feel pressured to do that.” 

“No, it’s really ok!” You whispered back. “It’s just a game, right? It didn’t mean anything.” 

“Yeah.” Taehyung smiled warmly, before glancing down at your lips. Jungkook frowned at the lingering silence, wanting so badly to walk out of his bedroom and see what was happening. 

What he would’ve seen, however, is a very awkward looking you, not knowing how to excuse yourself politely from the moment. Taehyung was handsome, sure, but what had happened was an innocent game, same as in the pool. You hadn’t felt a spark, things just happened. 

“I, um.. I should go to bed. I’m so tired.” You lied, laughing the moment off. Thankfully, Taehyung smiled warmly, picking up on the hint. 

“Yeah, I get it.” His deep voice said. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Jungkook smirked to himself, his inner self bouncing up and down excitedly.  That’s my girl. He thought to himself, biting his lip to contain his happiness. 

As soon as Taehyung left, you felt like you could breathe for possibly the first time since you arrived back at your room. You took a second to yourself before noticing Bam, staring directly at you with his puppy eyes as his tail slowly wiggled at finally having your attention. 

“Hey, baby.” You smiled, bending down to encourage him to come to you. He did, sitting in front of you and wagging his tail more excitedly. “Why didn’t Jungkook put you to bed?” 

Fuck. Jungkook thought to himself. He was so ready to be alone in bed, he had completely forgotten his pup’s routine. Jungkook leaped out of bed, and walked out to see you on the floor with his dog. 

“H-Hey.” He stuttered, immediately going soft, but trying so hard to play it cool. “You’re still up?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed. “I should probably go to bed, but I can’t sleep yet.” 

“Me either.” Jungkook admitted. God, she’s so pretty. He thought. “I forgot to take Bam out… Wanna come with?” 

“Sure.” You replied, smiling softly as you looked up at him.

“Sure! Yeah, ok.” He said energetically, mentally cursing himself for tripping over his words. “Let’s go, Bam.” 

“Come on, baby. Let’s go outside!” You said excitedly, getting Bam wound up for his excursion. Jungkook smile widened as he headed towards the door, opening it for you and Bam to exit first before he followed. 

He stood next to you in the dark, and the silence was almost overwhelming. He wanted to talk to you so badly, but when he searched his brain for something to say, his anxiety took over and he came up with nothing. He settled for just looking over at you, as you were too distracted by Bam’s playfulness to notice his gaze. He focused on your lips, and how soft they looked. Your hair, and how it seemed to fall perfectly, even when it’s a bit messy. He wanted to wrap himself around you and hold you, to keep you warm. 

Warm. Warm. 

You must be freezing, and he didn’t even think about it. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, suddenly worried. “Here, take my sweatshirt. I’ve got a shirt underneath, it’s fine.”

“Then you’ll be cold.” You laughed gently. “I’m ok. Really.” 

“Please, just wear it.” He insisted, already slipping out of the black sweatshirt. Playfully, he slipped it over your head as though catching and dressing a toddler while you giggled, making his nose scrunch in adoration.  

“Fine, you win.” You laughed, situating the sweatshirt so it sat correctly on your frame. 

“Better?” He asked. 

“Better. Thanks.” 

“Anytime.” His voice went soft. 

While you looked at him with a smile, you realized this was the first time you had spent any real time alone with Jungkook. You couldn’t deny that he was obviously cute, and despite your short time knowing him, he had been so sweet to you. They all have been, but for some reason, spending time alone with Jungkook really emphasized how drawn you were to him for some reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“Hey.” You whispered softly, realizing just how long you’ve been looking at each other.

“Hey.” He smiled. 

“Do you know what everyone has planned tomorrow?” You asked, and Jungkook shook his head. “Well… Do youhave any ideas on what we could do? I’m down to hang out if you want, but I don’t have anything in mind.” 

“Y-Yeah, uh…” Jungkook stuttered, clear surprise lacing his voice. “I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow so… movie day? Maybe?” 

“That sounds fun.” You smiled. “Let’s do it.” 

“Cool.” He grinned, absolutely giddy that somehow he was able to get you to himself. 

You both walked back to the guest house with Bam following next to Jungkook. You both said your goodnights and retreated to your room for the night. You felt less like sleeping than you did before your time outside, and you realized you were wearing Jungkook’s sweatshirt still. He never asked for it back. Shrugging, but feeling your heart beat a bit faster, you snuggled into it while on your bed. 

Jungkook, laying in his bed on the other side of the wall, also noticed you never asked to give it back. He wasn’t going to ask for it, he wanted you to keep it. Smiling to himself, feeling butterflies in his chest, he also struggled to sleep. His thoughts raced, and he silently hoped you fell asleep in his sweatshirt. 

Next Chapter: x

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #in the soop #bts in the soop #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook fics #jungkook imagine #jungkook is whipped #bts: in the secret #idol!jungkook #reader insert #fem reader

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE || 

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him. 

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky. 

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical. 

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away. 

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.” 

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look. 

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated. 

“Yes! We went out to find Will–” 

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures. 

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?” 

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–” 

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”  

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite. 

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted. 

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?” 

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine. 

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer. 

“We’ve been waiting six hours.” 

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone. 

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!” 

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?” 

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more. 

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

.

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

.

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare. 

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.” 

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it. 

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work. 

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.” 

She can hear me right? She has to. 

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in! 

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts, 

“Where the fuck are we?!” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY || 

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together– 

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?” 

“I-I… not yet.” 

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?” 

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!” 

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.  

  HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or #### 

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back. 

Fuck… 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera. 

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that. 

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did. 

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’? 

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished. 

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ] 

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse. 

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence. 

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief? 

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home. 

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.” 

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?” 

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here. 

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!” 

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?” 

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most). 

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will. 

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school. 

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ] 

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s. 

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.” 

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food. 

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?” 

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby? 

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long. 

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.” 

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so). 

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude. 

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle. 

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe. 

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned. 

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

.

.

.

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions. 

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean? 

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?” 

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in. 

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes. 

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing. 

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

.

.

.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything. 

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room. 

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

.

.

.

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette. 

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised. 

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead. 

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement. 

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself. 

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away. 

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look. 

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?” 

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So… 

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes. 

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson. 

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised. 

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–” 

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” He sighs and grabs the box, holding it out for her to put the stuff away.

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues. 

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW || 

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.” 

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder. 

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back. 

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it. 

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

.

.

.

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

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#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x sister reader #dustin henderson x reader #eddie munson #will byers x reader #will byers x platonic reader #will byers #stranger things x reader #jopper #jancy #steve harrington x oc #Stephanie Henderson #my fanfic writing #skyfallwrites

[solarwonux]

Business Proposal || knj (2/?)

pairing: namjoon x f!reader || ex friends to lovers!au friends to lovers!au

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fwb!au, non idol!au, unrequited love

Warnings: slow burn, angst, namjoon is pretty much not the nicest dude lol (will add more as it progresses), kinda sugar daddy au but not really. It will make sense I promise.

Rating: mature, 18+

w.c: 9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is living on borrowed time, and it’s time to cash in. His father is months from taking his last breathe and his life long dream is to watch his oldest son say “I do.”

a/n: Hello, this is longer than I expected it to be, but anything to get the story moving. LMK your thoughts and if you want to be added to the tallest! Enjoy!

m.list

prev || next 

“I thought you stopped smoking.”

Jungkook jumps at the sound of your voice, eyes wide like a deer caught in the headlights. The burning cigarette in between his index and middle finger. He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it and closes it, shaking his head. He looks out into the backyard, and takes another puff of his almost gone cigarette.

You sigh and go to stand next to him, leaning against the porch railing as you stare out into the same backyard. Silently wishing it was Spring again. Mrs. Jeon and Lia’s backyard always felt magical. Filled with flowers and greenery that always made it feel like a dream. But in the winter months it was barren and depressing. Nothing exciting grows except for the Lenten Roses in a pot next to the last porch step.

“Bad habits die hard.” He shrugs, taking another puff. “You should know.” He looks over at you, blowing out the cloud of smoke in your face.

You cough, fanning the cloud away. “You’re an ass.”

“Sometimes you ask for it.” He shrugs, throwing the white stick on the ground and squashing it with his boot. “Shouldn’t you be inside, gushing about wedding dresses and invitations with mom, while dad kisses Namjoon’s feet for once again being the perfect son.”

He stuffs his hands into the pocket of his pants. You sigh, coming to stand next to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. “Don’t be like that.” You whisper. “You’re lightyears a better person than your brother.”

His chest shakes with a humorless laugh. He has the urge to push you away but you’ve always been the only one with the ability to see through the perfectly curated images he and his brother have built over the years. “It’s always the same. I’m always the degenerate, the one who broke the rules growing up while Namjoon followed them. I’m the one who dropped out of college but he’s automatically the better son because he didn’t, and is now working on his PHD. While I work at a small flower shop, with a freelance photography job on the side. I’m the leech they can’t seem to get rid off.” He lets out a shaky sigh before pushing himself away.

“Jungkook d–”

“No, don’t say anything because you’re helping him knowing very well what he’s done to you. You’re feeding into what they want, and you can tell me it’s to benefit yourself. But how many times did I offer to help you pay out your student loans? How many times did I offer to help you find a better job? And you never took it because you wanted to do it yourself and I respected that boundary. But now that he comes back and offers you the same things with an added marriage proposal on top. You suddenly decide to take up on the offer.” He rants, running a tattooed hand through his long hair. “It fucking sucks because I know he’s going to hurt you and I don’t know if I can be there for you when he does because even if I have never had any sort of romantic feelings for you. I do love you and it hurt so much seeing you so broken and not being able to do anything about it.” He paces, invisibly mapping out the situation with his hands.

“And I can’t even fully hate him either because he is my brother and not many people understand our relationship but I know he loves me. He just has this weird ass way of showing it, and if he hurts you again, I’ll be put in the middle and I don’t want that because I can’t leave you alone and I can’t leave him alone either.” He breathes out, dropping his head feeling defeated.

It’s everything he wanted to tell you yesterday at the flower shop, but he didn’t want Yoongi to see him like this. Truthfully he wasn’t going to let you know either, but seeing the happiness on his parents' faces made him feel more bitter than usual.

You walk to stand in front of him, placing your hands on top of his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Jungkook clicks his tongue in annoyance before shaking his head in disbelief. “I know a part of you still loves him and I know that part will fall for him the second he starts acting like the old Namjoon again. I can’t stop you and I can’t stop him either.”

“You out of all people know that I’m not the same person I was then and you know why. You’re right the person that loved him is still inside here but she knows better. I won’t fall for him the way I did then and what happened that night won’t happen again.” You say, hugging him tightly again. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but I can take care of myself.” You whisper, rubbing his back lightly.

He sighs, finally hugging you back and kissing the top of your head gently. “I wish it was Jimin instead.” He adds, making you laugh a bit at the end. That was a whole new can of worms you didn’t want to get into.

At least not now at your fake fiance's parents house.

“I was scared.” He admits, burying his head into your neck. “When you called me and told me to pick you up in tears. I honestly never wanted to kill anyone more than I did that night.” He whispers. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Jungkook’s never been honest with you about what he felt that night. You never asked because you were scared of knowing the truth. And now that he’s voiced it you can’t help but feel your heart break all over again.

“I’m sorry, I did–”

“No, don’t be sorry it’s not your fault that he–”

“Am I interrupting something?” Namjoon’s curiosity breaks the two of you apart in an instant. Quickly you wipe away the fallen tears from your cheeks. You step away further from Jungkook while he does the same, avoiding eye contact with the older man as if you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

Namjoon has always had a wild imagination, hence his profession of choice. And right now his imagination is running him up a road he knows he shouldn’t go down. He had been looking for you for at least fifteen minutes, and when he heard your voice along with Jungkook’s voice coming through the patio screen door. He couldn’t think straight, especially not after hearing his little brother be so vulnerable, but he also couldn’t help but wonder what else the two of you were talking about.

As far as he’s concerned the infamous fight between the two of you happened in your old bedroom. Your parents were out on a date and he had come over so you could look over one of his essays. He left your house in a hurry, getting on his bike and pedaling as fast as he could to get away from your house with his heart pounding against his throat.

Had you gone somewhere else after?

Now, he needed to know, only because his curiosity would not let him forget until he knew. It was one of his fatal flaws. Probably the most annoying one.

“Um, I know you came with Kook but it would be weird now if you left with him.” He too feels weird, especially because the two of you looked like you’ve just stolen three cookies out of the jar before dinner. He hates it, it only feeds the little curious demon inside of him. “I have to be somewhere at five so I came to tell you that I’ll take you home but we have to leave in like fifteen minutes to beat the traffic.” He nods, scratching the back of his neck before taking a look between the two of you, and it suddenly hits him like a truck.

Wait, were the two of you secretly seeing each other. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Wait, but what about that Jimin guy? Hold on, were you seeing the of them at the same time, hol–

“It’s fine we are done here.” Jungkook looks over at you, giving you a smile to ease your overwhelming anxiety, and walks to the entrance, patting Namjoon’s arm before heading inside.

There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, before you decide that it’s been long enough for you to go back inside too. Before you even get the chance to move, Namjoon speaks up, burning his stare into yours.

“Are you seeing each other?” He voices out, finally giving in. He regrets it because the look on your face makes him realize that he’s said the wrong thing.

“You’ve been saying a lot of stupid shit lately.” You shake your head, taking it as your sign to leave. If you have to be in a car with him for an hour. You might as well save your energy. His genetic material is full of nonsense. “I’ll wait for you inside.” You say walking in and leaving him alone in the barren patio.

He can’t help but wonder about a lot of things. All of them start and end with you.

Namjoon is driving.

It’s a view you never thought you would ever see. Back when the two of you were friends he had very strong opinions about driving. The one time you asked after he showed up at the coffee shop drenched in rain water.

He said, “The world will be better without me on the road.” He laughed running off to ask the workers for a towel.

“What?” Namjoon says after stopping at a red light and looking over at you. One eyebrow raised.

“Nothing, it’s just strange.” You shrug. “I never thought I’d see you driving.” You point out, watching as the red light turns green. He steps on the gas, making a smooth right turn and glances over at you. A smirk painted on his features.

“I got tired of biking everywhere.” He says, leaning his right arm on the middle counsel. “This is also more convenient than asking JK to drive me everywhere when it rains or snows.”

You nod looking out the window. “What happened to priding yourself in having a small carbon footprint and world peace or whatever?”

Namjoon chuckles, shaking his head “I still bike most of the time just not to moms house or when it rains. As for the world peace thing. I don’t think being off the roads will stop wars.” He pulls the car to a stop and looks over at you again. Now that the two of you are alone he can’t help but think that maybe you did get a little prettier than what he remembers. Though you still don’t compare to all the women he’s ever dated. Most of them being nepo babies or supermodels. You’re still quite attractive, maybe in another life he wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing a life with you. But you still weren’t the woman of his dreams. Though, the more he navigates through life he’s realizing that such a person simply doesn’t exist.

If they did he wouldn’t be here in the car with you.

“Oh,” you jump up as if you just remembered something important. And before Namjoon can begin to understand what was happening the light turns green again and he’s pressing on the gas pedal. “I forgot to give this to you.” You say, holding out your hand in his view of sight with his mothers ring.

“Keep it.” He says without missing a beat. You’re shocked and you’re about to fight against him, but he beats you to it. “We’re going to be spending lots of time together. It’d be weird if you didn’t wear it when we’re together.” He reasons. It makes sense but you hated every second that passed by in which you had it on.

In a few months it wouldn’t be yours anymore. Plus it just felt wrong to be wearing it knowing it will someday go to someone else.

“You can just keep it and then when we go to places together, just give it to me.” You nudge his arm with your open hand. He glances down at it before looking out to the road.

“No need, you’ll be moving in anyway.” He nonchalantly says, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t drop another bomb on you.

Moving in?

This whole deal was taking turns that you didn’t expect. You knew he offered you a house in which you honestly weren’t going to take. But you didn’t think you’d be moving in with him. From what Jungkook tells you his apartment is more of a museum than a home. And you like your little apartment. It was perfect for one person, it had everything you needed and it was close to two subway stations. It was absolutely perfect and the rent wasn’t crazy expensive.

Rent.

That’s another thing to take into consideration. Would he make you pay for rent if you did by some miracle agree to moving in, because you’re more than positive you wouldn’t be able to afford it. Not now with your passable income from the flower shop. Of course, that chapter of your life will soon come to an end, but even working as a professor in your prestigious alma mater wouldn’t be enough to pay whatever crazy amount his rent is.

“Hold on, that wasn’t in our deal.” You close your hand in a fist and bring it down onto your lap turning your entire body to face him.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “The cats out of the bag what would people think when they figure out we are engaged but not living together.” He pulls up into the parking lot of your apartment building and puts the car in park. He turns his entire body to face you, one hand gripping onto the steering wheel. “I don’t think you understand how crazy mom can be. She will be over unannounced every other day now that she knows we’re getting married. It’s best to avoid all those questions because they can get invasive.” He states, turning off the engine and opening up his door. He looks over at you. “I can’t stay long but I’ll walk you to your door.”

You were beginning to get annoyed with how nonchalant he was acting about all of this. For a person who claims this was all fake he seemed to be trying his hardest to make it seem as real as possible. You’re starting to wonder if you should set up some ground rules first before you make such a serious decision.

What if you do move in? When all this is over what will happen to you?

You have no doubt in your mind that he will kick you out the second he gets tired of this scheme. You have no doubt in your mind that he will begin to act like this never happened. It is what he does best. He crosses boundaries and when you make it known he acts like he didn’t and that you were in the wrong the entire time.

It’s what happened then, but this time it will be different. This time you’re determined to keep your guard up as high as a skyscraper. This time you won’t fall for his smile, his charm, his laugh or his heart. This time you’re going to put yourself first and to be able to do that you need to have a serious conversation. Set some ground rules before you can continue anything else.

“Namjoon, wait.” You say as he’s getting out of the car. He rounds the front and opens the passenger door for you.

“What, I need to be somewhere in fifteen minutes, let’s go.” He rushes out looking down at his Rolex then you.

You get down from his car, stepping to the side as he closes the door. “We need to talk about this.” You use your pointer finger to single the space between the two of you.

He lets out an annoyed sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We will, but not today. We can have lunch next Wednesday after you come in for training.”

“Namjoon I just don’t think you understand. You’re making all these choices without getting my opinion first. I understand you want your parents to believe that we are actually engaged. And I understand that you have a lot left to lose. But you’re not the only one in this. I get to have say in this too and I–”

Namjoon holds his hand out to your face, blocking your words from coming out. “I get it and believe me I would love to talk about it because we have a lot of things to discuss but I really can’t today. I have a dinner meeting with a coworker and I need to pick her up in—” he looks down at his watch and up, “-in ten minutes.” He finishes and starts walking in front of you.

A dinner meeting? On a Sunday? With another woman?

You don’t want to be that person. You firmly do believe that men and women are able to be friends without anything romantic and sexual happening between them. But he’s acting a little bit suspicious and you can’t help but wonder if he’s going out on a date.

God, you’re so annoyed it’s honestly becoming very tiring. And you’ve only been fake engaged for a few hours. You can’t begin to imagine what the next months will be like or for however long he plans to keep up the scheme.

He calls out your name. He’s standing in front of your building entrance, snapping his fingers to hurry you up.

“I’m not a dog.” You roll your eyes, and push past him. You press the button to the automatic door and hold your hand out before he can take another step. “And I don’t need an escort.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“And you’re going to be late for your date.” You state stepping inside, leaving him floored with your little outburst. He wants to follow you and tell you a few choice words, but the ringing of his phone keeps him from pressing the button again.

He can talk to you another day. Right now you’re right about one thing. He is late. Even if it’s not a date like you have just assumed. He hates being late to places.

In a relationship.

The little phrase next to yours and Namjoons name has been haunting you since you got the notification last night. Least to say you had not gotten a wink of sleep. You had messaged Namjoon asking him what it was all about. The two of you had not talked since Sunday and making your fake relationship official on Facebook for friends and family to see was definitely something you didn’t see him doing.

It had caught you by surprise. What surprised you the most was the comments underneath the status, offering you kind words and congratulations. The few “it's about time,” comments had set you off. You weren’t sure if it was because you were engaged or because the two of you were engaged to each other. It had your mind racing in all sorts of directions.

Yet, what really didn’t let you sleep was Taehyung’s messages and Jimin’s cryptic “it all makes sense now,” text you had woken up too.

Your fake fiance always prided in living a life away from the drama. And while he’s having a blast living a fantasy you were on the other end receiving nasty messages from your friends and what you assumed were women he had been with once upon a time.

It was all getting too much. You were supposed to be enjoying your last shift ever at Euphoria before you ventured off into the world for bigger and better things. But here you were blocking comments and ignoring Taehyung’s angry spam and Jimini’s nasty comments, with a knot at the base of your throat.

You’ve never hated Namjoon more than you did now. Since he was ignoring you, probably annoyed with your constant pleading to delete the status. You would have to wait until you saw him again next week to scream in his face.

What didn’t help was that Jungkook had called in sick, so you were stuck with the brooding owner, sending you a glare whenever he heard you sigh.

“Okay, out with it. What has you acting like the queen has died?” He cuts a stem off a rose, before placing it in the middle of a few baby breath branches.

You put your phone down, face down hoping it would somehow keep the notifications from coming. “First the queen has died. Second, Namjoon is so fucking annoying. I…ugh.” You let out a frustrated sigh. Probably the thousandth one of the day before putting your head in your head, cradling it.

The headache that you had woken up with after three restless hours of sleep was only growing to be worse. You hear the older man laugh before patting your back awkwardly. “I think this is the part in which Jungkook would be saying I told you so, but I still fully support you getting the bag you deserve, and unfortunately whatever he did is part of the consequences you just have to face.” He states proudly before retrieving his hand and going back to the bouquet he was working on.

You raise your head, hoping your glare would bury him six feet underneath the ground. “You’re no help sometimes. I don’t know why I even ask for your advice.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue before shaking his head, “You see that’s where you’re wrong. You didn’t ask for my advice. I’m just telling you the honest truth. Now if you can’t take it then you shouldn’t have accepted the deal in the first place.” He shrugs, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing a pair of scissors. He goes to the ribbon wall behind him, taping his chin with the tip of them in thought.

“What did he do this time anyway?” He says getting a hold of a lavender one and measuring it before cutting it off.

You lift up your phone, opening it quickly and navigating yourself through the homescreen before clicking the bright blue app. “This! He did this without letting me know.” You extend your phone showing him the status.

He leans his head forward squinting his eyes before breaking out into a smile. “Congratulations, I knew the two of you would be perfect together.” He jokes, making you groan out in annoyance. He chuckles, cutting up some flower bouquet paper. “Jokes aside, that is an asshole move, but what else would we expect from the devil himself.” He says grabbing the bouquet and placing it in the middle of the pale pink paper. “You knew what you were signing up for.”

“Ugh, I know, I know, I know. I don’t need you to remind me.” You push yourself off the counter as soon as the bell to the shop dings signaling someone has walked in. “It’s the aftermath of his actions that’s sending me up the wall. I really ha–” You turn around putting your best customer service smile only for it to fade away the minute your eyes come into contact with ones you’ve grown up with.

The warmth they once held for you is gone, now replaced with stone cold anger.

“Jimin.”

“Do you want to explain to me what’s going on?” He pushes his way past you and walks to the aisle full of supplies. “Because the last time we talked you told me you weren’t ready to be in a relationship and as much as it hurt I respected that but now you’re here engaged. And to Namjoon?” He says exasperated. You follow him, thanking god the shop was empty because this wasn’t where you wanted to have this conversation.

You knew it would eventually come and you would have no other option but to have it. Yet, lately the world has been throwing curveballs at you left and right since Namjoon came back into your life. So, what else could you expect?

Plus Jimin has never been one to keep his emotions bottled up. It’s one of things you admire most about him. When he was angry he would voice it. When he was sad he would cry freely and explain why. And when he was happy and in love he had no shame in letting the whole world know. Which is why you couldn’t continue anything with him anymore. Even if he was the one that made you feel comfortable again in your body and encouraged you to explore things with him. You didn’t feel anything towards him other than friendship. It’s not like you didn’t try. You did the moment you realized he had fallen for you months ago. It’s probably why you prolonged cutting things off with him, but you couldn’t do that to him anymore.

Not when he had verbally confessed and was giving you everything he should’ve been giving to someone who didn’t view him as more than a friend. The two of you should’ve listened to everyone who said it was a bad idea, but both of you were stubborn. That’s something you aren’t afraid to admit. Unfortunately the decision the two of you made almost a year ago was now coming back to bite the two of you in the ass. Though for some reason it felt like you were getting the shorter end of the stick with everything that had gone down in the last few days.

Maybe you were cursed?

“Min I can explain.” You whisper yell, reaching out to him. He retracts, throwing his hands up and steps away from you.

“No, I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I saw what that man did to you and you went back to him after cutting things off with me.” He spits out, venom laced in his voice as he cards a shaky hand through his already messy hair. He stops for a second biting his bottom lip and looks over at you.

“Were you seeing him while we were together? Were you with me when he couldn’t be with you? Because I can’t even begin to explain how fucked up that is. Especially for someone like you but I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did.” He rants, his hands shaking as he finds somewhere to put them to hide the visible anger he is feeling inside.

“It’s not like that Min, please just let me explain.” You plead, taking cautious steps closer to him. Gripping your apron tightly to keep yourself from crying. This is why you admired your oldest friend for the longest time. He wore his heart on his sleeve whereas you couldn’t let yourself cry in fear of looking pitiful and weak.

He takes one final look at you before shaking his head. “No, I don’t want anything from you. I just want you to stay out of my life.” He says before walking past you, bumping your shoulder with his and walking out.

This is what you feared the most. Losing him. You did have the intention of telling him what was happening when the time was right. This whole situation with Namjoon wasn’t something you ever intended on keeping a secret from both him and Taehyung, but of course you could never walk at your own pace.

For as long as you can remember nobody ever let you march to the beat of your own drum. Everyone around you always forced you to act whenever it was suitable for them. And right now as much as you were at fault too, you couldn’t help but blame Namjoon and his impatience.

Every day that went by, you realize how much this was inconveniencing you rather than benefiting you like you had originally thought.

“Now, I think this is the part in which Jungkook would say I told you so.” Yoongi speaks out from behind you.

You roll your eyes, shake your head and send him a glare. In a haste you untie your apron and rip it off. “I quit.” You say walking past the counter and throwing the fabric onto it.

Yoongi shrugs, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile in which it looks like he’s in pain instead. “Impossible when you only had five more minutes left of your final shift.”

That’s the last thing you hear him say before walking into the back and finally letting your tears fall down.

You’ve had your fair share of heartbreaks in the past.

When you were five you had your first boyfriend–Paul. A blooming relationship that lasted merely three days. On the first day of school he gave you a note with a poorly drawn flower and “I love you” written in the center. In his best five year old handwriting. On the second day he kissed you in the line on the way to Spanish class–dared by his best friend–Pedro. And on the last day, he played with you on the playground but on the way back to class he was holding hands with another girl.

Your first heartbreak.

Then you embarrassingly harbored a crush on him for three years after. In fifth grade–Christian had stolen your heart as soon as you saw his crooked smile and overly slicked back hair, but of course he had picked the prettier and meaner girl in class–Yuni.

Your second heartbreak.

Though, the infatuation didn’t last long, you forgot about him as soon as you entered middle school.  But you remember your heart beating out of time when you saw him at Sunday school. You were in seventh grade. Your body was changing. You felt awkward as hell listening to a sermon while fantasizing what it would be like to hold his hand.

When you were fifteen on the other hand. All hell broke loose.

You fell out of love with a lot of firsts in your life, and everything felt so black and white. Things that made you happy. That you viewed as pillars slowly started fading away. It started with ballet, then it trickled down to your studies. You didn’t feel like doing anything, your feelings were confusing and you felt angry with everything and everyone around you. To add the cherry on top your crush of possibly four years broke your heart–Jung Hoseok.

He was perfect. He was tan, tall, and handsome. He had a beautiful smile with moony eyes. He was funny and smart and loved to dance. You had met him during your first dance practice back in seventh grade. All it took was a smile, a wink and a killer freestyle for you to fall head over heels for him. He was nice, he sat with you during lunch whenever Taehyung and Jimin had a different one. He helped you out with your math homework and he even cracked jokes about your favorite boy band at the time. He would ask you about your day and make sure you didn’t skip your meals.

Jimin and Taehyung were so tired hearing you yap about him twenty four seven and so they offered to help you out. The three of you came up with a plan on how to confess to him, but all of that went down the drain one Wednesday afternoon.

The tears didn’t start falling when you saw the self proclaimed bad boy holding hands with one of the popular girls from school–Harley. They came after when you ran out of the dance studio because Of course it had to be her. God had blessed her with the perfect genes. The perfect hair, the perfect smile, the perfect body, and she was a way better dancer than you. She was beautiful and you were a colorless painting next to her that lacked detail. You had acne on your forehead, and even if you had ditched the contacts and braces a year prior. Your hair was still frizzy, and your body wasn’t desirable. Your boobs were practically non-existent, your hips were too wide and your stomach wasn’t flat

It sucked because you seriously thought he could’ve been it. He had been it for a while. You pulled back. Curating a home in a fantasy world, caging your heart in. Despite your friends being protective over you like a little sister. Their protection was nothing compared to how locked up you had your heart. That is until you met Kim Namjoon–and that also ended in a disaster. After that you didn’t give a fuck, you let men come and go. Use you for their needs until one night you awoke from your slumber. Sadly it had already been too late.

Jimin was there to repair you brick by brick. He helped you rediscover yourself in more ways than one. He helped you feel comfortable in your body. Something that was so foreign to you it took lots of trial and error. Yet, you broke him.

Despite all the heartbreak you have experienced in your life. This had to be the one that hurt the most, because you hurt him, and nothing you do will ever bring him back to you.

All because you wanted to have the upper hand.

This is why you disliked Kim Namjoon. Just like he brought you back to life he had dulled you at the same time. He made you feel special but at the same time ordinary; and because of him–though it wasn’t his entire fault you were equally to blame–you had lost one of the most important people in your life.

In honor of such event you had been avoiding the world for the entirety of three days. On the fourth day–today–you had finally forced yourself out of bed.

It was your first day of training at your new job which meant you were going to be in the same room with your nemesis AKA your fake fiance. Listening to him brag about how much better he is at everything.

Everything was a shit show.

You purposely took the longer route, hoping it would work calming you down. The Cherry Blossoms were finally blooming, signaling the end of a bitter winter and the birth of a new chapter in your life. You had hoped that Jimin and Taehyung would have been here for the ride, after you explained everything. You didn’t get the chance too and now the two of them were acting as if there wasn’t a decade of memories between the two of you.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your hot pink slacks. You weren’t going to be teaching yet, just observing some classes and following Namjoon around while he condescendingly explained what your life would be like as a University Professor.

Are you close? - N

You rolled your eyes at the message. You had been scheduled to come in at ten-thirty. It was ten on the dot and he was already rushing you. You begin to wonder if this is what it was going to be like the entire time the two of you will be together.

Don’t forget to wear your ring, we’re going to mom’s for dinner tonight. - N

The annoyed sigh made its way out of you before you could stop it. You hope that it won’t always be like this. Him making plans for you without consulting you first. Or him outing the relationship is such an irresponsible way without letting you know. If he was going to make every single decision for you, then you will call things off. You had taken the entirety of your night writing down a list of demands in order for you to continue things.

Well it was more of a list of things that annoyed you about him. A list in which you only hoped the two of you could come to a compromise. You don’t want to change him. Mostly because he is stubborn and doesn’t see anything wrong with himself no matter how many times people close to him have mapped it out for him. He won’t turn the other way keeping his ground. All you want to do is meet in the middle for however long he wants to keep this charade up.

One of my TAs  is waiting for you at the front of the building. I’m assuming you know the way. She will show you around and I will meet you for lunch. Don’t be late. - N

The third text came in making you grip your phone tightly in your hand. Even when he wasn’t around he somehow manages to make you want to scream out in anger.

I’m five minutes away.

You reply, putting your phone away and ignoring the last text he sends you. You will not let him ruin your last few minutes of freedom.

Eunseo is amazing.

She immediately greeted you in high spirits and complemented your hot pink blazer and slacks combo. And offered to carry around your bag because to her it seemed too heavy, but you refused.

Despite having attended HYBE U almost a decade ago. It hadn’t changed much. There were a few new buildings to compensate for the enrollment capacity, and a carpark where dorms used to be. But other than those slight changes nothing had changed. Even the large field in between the common hall and the dorms was still the same. The trees always bloomed beautifully in the Spring. Though you couldn’t ignore the pang you felt in your chest while walking through the field with Eunseo as she talked about her classes and how much she looked up to Mr. Kim.

This was where you found out you were in love with Namjoon all those years ago. It was Fall, the foliage was at its peak and the leaves were just starting to fall down. The two of you had decided to meet here instead of the cafe that day to enjoy the weather a little more before it turned gray. There was a particularly strong wind and the leaves came rustling down landing on the two of you making the both of you laugh. The sun was shining in the most perfect way possible, his skin glowed underneath it and something inside of you turned.

That day all you could do was think about him. You fell asleep dreaming about his smile and woke up expecting his scent to cloud over you like a blanket.

It was so beautiful yet tragic and you had never turned back since then.

That is until he turned on you.

With the way Eunseo was describing him. You could almost picture him being the same way he was when he tutored you. According to Eunseo he was funny, kind and really cared about his students. He always went out of his way to explain the material in ways his students could understand, and listened to everybody’s opinion extensively. But he also challenged them and pushed them to work harder.

He loved his job and profession more than anything in the world. It’s something you always did admire about him. Even on late nights or when the stress was too much for him to handle. He always found a way to look at it in a different light. For some time you had wished he would’ve done that with you when you confessed your feelings to him. That night he was someone you had never known. It was like something switched off inside of him and he became the heartless jackass you’ve come to know about in recent years.

“You’re very lucky. He will be such an amazing husband.” Eunseo said bringing out of your long train of thought. You stopped dead in your tracks, surprised as she giggled at your reaction.

“H-How do you know.” You clear your throat, bringing your hand up to your chest and playing with the little aquamarine pendant you never take off.

“He told me before I went down to meet with you.” She shrugs, grabbing onto the straps of her backpack. “Don’t worry he’s only told me and I don’t have many friends to tell. So your secret’s safe with me.” She winks turning around and skipping away.

You shake your head and follow her trying to keep up as best as you can. Maybe wearing heels wasn’t the brightest idea, but it was your first day on the job. You need to make a good impression on your future co-workers. In which you hadn’t met yet, but you assumed it was because Namjoon would be the one to introduce you and he was currently in a lecture.

You jump when you hear your name being called from across the field. You turn around quickly as Namjoon makes his way to you. His beige trench coat blowing in the wind. The combination of his nike’s, light blue jeans, and airy button down shirt was more casual than what you expected. Even his hair wasn’t styled. He looked stress free or a normal person.

“Mr. Kim, I have taken care of her and now I am returning her to you in one piece. Just like you instructed.” Eunseo says from beside you. You look over at her. She’s wearing such a bright smile on her face. Her proudness over such a nimble task makes you chuckle. A moment you will never forget now because it’s made you realize how much you desire to inspire someone.

The same way Namjoon has inspired her.

“Thanks Eunseo.” Namjoon replies once he gets closer, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his coat. He looks you up and down, raising his brows before turning over to his student. “This doesn’t mean you’re getting extra credit or an extension on your next paper.”

“It was worth the shot.” She smiles, sending him finger guns making him laugh. She turns to face you, “It was so nice to meet you Mrs. Kim, I’ll be sure to keep on the lookout for your class next semester.” She says giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I’ll see you in class Mr. Kim.” She finishes before turning around and heading down the path leading to the library.

“She’s not going to turn in her paper on time.” Namjoon says from next to you shaking his head. “But she’s one of my best students. Somehow her papers always manage to impress me even if I threaten to take away a whole letter grade for every late paper. It somehow motivates her to do even better and I can’t.” He sighs and looks over at you. “Did you find everything okay, I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you. I told the office to schedule you after my classes today but they refused. Even being head of a department has very little perks.”

You look around quickly to see if anybody was around. There were a few students making their way to classes but each of them were engrossed with their phones or notes or conversations amongst themselves. They weren’t paying any attention to the two of you. So, he didn’t have to act so nice. “You’re so strange.” You comment, widening your eyes and covering your mouth as quickly as possible.

Namjoon rolls his eyes before sticking his hand out for you to take. “And you’re so nice.” He retaliates. The slight pang of bitterness slicing through his words. You almost feel relieved that he was still in there somewhere.

“Thanks, you bring out the best in me.” You take his hand, watching as he interlaced your fingers with his, forcefully pulling you to walk.

“Whatever, let’s just go to lunch. I’m starving. We can talk about things then.”

Okay you take it back. HYBE U was definitely still not the same.

There was a whole dining hall with the bougiest restaurants that you one hundred percent would not have been able to afford when you were a student here. You assume that’s why it’s pretty empty, except for a few faculty.

Namjoon and you had been sitting in silence since the two of you sat down after ordering. Your mouth almost fell open when you saw an avocado toast for almost twenty dollars. Thankfully Namjoon had offered to pay. Now the two of you were waiting for your overpriced food in complete silence. You weren’t sure what to say if you were honest.

Hey thanks for the job, you're still an asshole though.

Or

My best friends hate me because you ruined my life and now they think that what we have is real because you decided to make it official on Facebook. And like who uses Facebook anyway you old man.

In the end you settle for the nice quiet, listening to the ambience around you until your food arrives. The waiter carefully places your plates in the middle of the table and the two of you quietly thank him. Then Namjoon clears his throat, grabbing your attention.

“I usually bring my own lunch but I like this place whenever I forget to cook.” He cuts the toast in half and puts one of them on your plate, and makes sure you get a piece of avocado too.

“You cook?” You tilt your head to the side, picking up your utensils and poking the soft egg in the middle, letting the yolk run.

Namjoon nods, placing some pasta on your plate. “Jin taught me a couple years ago.” He hands you a napkin and starts filling up his plate. You have no idea who this Jin guy is. Namjoon says his name as if you’re supposed to know already, but you’re curious. Namjoon was a genius but he was a complete incompetent buffoon in the kitchen. You can’t explain how many times you witnessed him and Jungkook fighting in front of you whenever you were over their house because he always burned the simplest things. It would stink up the kitchen and Jungkook would lose it because he always lost at rock paper scissors and ended up being the one to clean the kitchen.

“Who’s Jin?” You wipe your mouth, and take a bite of the pasta humming in delight. Maybe the price of the food was worth it.

“He owns the gym Kook and I go too. He sometimes comes over, you’ll meet him soon.” He clarifies.

You nod, letting the silence consume the two of you once again because what else are you supposed to say. Instead you just take another bite of your food.

Maybe if you prayed hard enough, Jungkook would waltz in and break the awkward air looming between the two of you. Of course you had things to say to him, but how were you supposed to bring it up if the conversation wasn’t going down the route.

“Kook’s mad isn’t he?” Namjoon puts down his fork and takes a sip of his water. “I saw him at the gym last night and he almost beat the shit out of me.” He chuckles like it’s no big deal.

“He’s not the only one.” You retort, reaching into your bag and taking out a sheet of notebook paper in a plastic sleeve and place it on the table. Not the most professional looking thing but you were short on time.

“Lo–” Namjoon starts, you assume he’s going to defend himself and his actions. But he doesn’t get very far because you immediately cut him off.

“No, I understand you want everybody to believe whatever this is.” You say pointing between the two of you. “But there’s not just one person in this act. You can’t keep making choices without consulting me first. The brunch was fine. I was able to come up with something on the spot. But the moving in is not, nor is the fucking Facebook status or telling your student or the dinner we have with your mom tonight.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, “It’s a stupid status is not a big deal.” He takes a bite of pasta. The nonchalance in his demeanor causes the anger you had somehow managed to push away resurface once again.

“It is a big deal Namjoon. Because of that stupid status, neither Jimin or Taehyung are talking to me. You didn’t give me the chance to tell them and finding out through the internet is a pretty shitty thing.” You try to reason. He pokes his cheek with his tongue and crosses his arms.

“Isn’t Jimin the guy you were with at the party? You two were pretty close.”

“He was my best friend. But because of your actions he’s cut off all communication with me.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing the two of you aren’t friends anymore. He looked pretty comfortable touching you at Taehyung’s place.” He says looking around then you. Yeah, you’re adding this to the list of dumbshit he says. Hopefully by the end of this you’ll be able to publish a whole book.

“Are you listening to yourself?” You say tapping your ears. “You sound so dumb right now.” You shake your head, suddenly losing your appetite. He does bring out the worst in you, and you’re beginning to regret ever saying yes in the first place. “Jimin and I used to fuck and sure things were a little rocky between us since the night of the party. But I still care for him. He's still someone important to me and you’re not respecting that. You outed our relationship to the whole world without consulting me first and you keep doing shit without asking if I am okay with it.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for someone to blame instead of owning up to whatever you did to your precious Jimin.” He shrugs, digging into his avocado toast. You truly want to dump his iced americano all over his head, but your hushed voices are getting a bit louder and people are starting to take notice.

“You’re completely missing the point. This isn’t about me or Jimin’s relationship. This is about you not willing to see that in order for this to continue you need to include me in big decisions like that. I am my own person Namjoon. I have a life outside of this, and you can’t just expect me to stop it and be at your mercy whenever you need me. What if I had plans tonight?”

“Then you cancel them. This is important.”

“Fucking hell, are you not listening to me. I honestly have no idea how to explain this to you in an easier way or without sounding like a broken record. I’m not a doll Namjoon, you can’t wind me up when you need me. I am a fucking human being and you’re not treating me like one. If this continues I will literally call this whole shit off.”  You pick up your fork and forcefully shove some pasta in your mouth.

“You can’t do that. You promised.” He accuses with his finger, furrowing his brows in anger.

You roll your eyes and swallow. “Just like you, I can also break promises.” You shrug before sliding your forgotten list towards him. ���These are my rules, if you can’t follow them then I swear  Namjoon I’ll call your mom and tell her everything, and it would totally suck I mean this job seems to be amazing.” You threaten crossing your arms in front of you.

He huffs, snatching the list from the table and reading them. This time you welcome the silence as you wait for him to finish. After what seems like his third run through he puts the list down again, your bubbly handwriting makes his head hurt a little. He could never understand why you always wrote in colorful pens and marked your i’s with hearts.

In his opinion it was overrated and you were a full grown adult, not a toddler.

“You can’t expect to change me. This isn’t forever.” He says like he’s reminding you. Despite you being his fake fiance he never really assumed you would expect him to remain monogamous. He was still a man with needs and he refused to touch you in that way.

“I’m not asking you too. I’m asking you to meet me in the middle and respect me a little more. I know you hate me but I’m not your biggest fan either. Yet, I agreed to this and I am here.”

He tugs his bottom lip in between his teeth in thought. He stares into his plate of food for what seems like hours. He could do that. Maybe things won’t be so unbearable if the two of you were just walking side by side rather than on opposite ends. He also can’t deny that you’re a little right, this was harder than he assumed. You are definitely not the pliant girl he knew once. Maybe this version of you excites him a little, but of course he won’t ever admit that to anyone. He’s already having a hard time admitting it to himself. If you’re going to ask him to meet you in the middle with your annoying list of demands then he’s going to ask the same of you.

Eye for an eye.

“Fine, but only if you agree to move in with me.”

“That’s ridiculous. I don't understand why I can’t just be at my place. I mean you just said this wasn’t forever.” You mumble.

“Ahh then I guess I’ll just rip this up.” He says taking out your sheet of paper and holding it out in front of him ready to shred it.

You panic and hold your hand out to stop him. “Fuck fine, I’ll move in with you.”

“Perfect, I’ll clear out the guest bedroom this week and you can move in on Saturday.” He smirks, and resumes to his meal.

Once again he’s won, but you will find a way to have the upper hand one of these days. “This is so dumb I still don’t understand your reasoning.”

There’s a part of Namjoon that also doesn’t understand it. That part of him he’s pushed away for years. It’s the part of him that wants you there with him. It’s incredibly selfish. He’s aware he’s asking too much of you already, but he hopes having you in his home will give him an excuse to come home. Lately, he’s been tired of just his plants and artwork receiving him when he gets home.

Yet, that’s something he won’t ever admit out loud either.

“It just makes things easier.” He shrugs, shutting down the conversation. Leaving you to wonder if his actions have more meaning to them than his words.

#kdiarynet #btshoneyhive #bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon imagines #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon x reader

[sixhours]

One Day at a Time - Chapter 4 - Gestation

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

He’s browsing at the trading post when he sees Charlie again. He’s checked off 14 more days in his little calendar, and each time he picks up the pen, it stirs a bittersweet feeling of anticipation and sheer terror in his gut.

He’s picking over the trades, looking for new sneakers for Ellie, when his eyes fall on something else.

Footed pajamas, impossibly tiny, the little plastic price tag still clipped to the sleeve. His hand drifts over the yellow fabric, faded but minky soft. Warm. Good for winter.

Sarah had pajamas like this once…a sleep suit with a hood and little round ears peeking up from the top. He hasn’t thought about that outfit in…well, decades. The memory of her toddling toward him with those silly little ears poking up from her downy head is so vivid that he can almost hear her trill of laughter and he has to lean on the table to catch his breath, the yellow onesie still clutched in his hand.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Charlie’s voice comes from over his shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and he turns around.

“Yeah…yeah just, uh…yeah, m’fine. What’re you doin’ here?”

He hides the pajamas behind him, balling them up in one large fist.

She holds up a white package. “Heard they had TP. Figured I’d better get down here and snag a roll before it was all gone. You?”

“Lookin’ for stuff for Ellie.”

“Find anything good?”

“She won’t think so.”

Charlie smirks. “Teenagers, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, shoving the onesie deep into his bag and making for the counter. He drops off a sack of old clothes into the donation bin, all the stuff Ellie has outgrown, and watches as Charlie does the same with her trades.

They find themselves outside, the warmth of late spring making everything smell fresh and green. Charlie’s button-down shirt floats over her jeans in such a way as to hide her midsection, but her proportions have changed. Her face is fuller, her breasts are swollen, and her skin looks so soft and smooth and—

He coughs and looks away, feeling a brief wash of shame for noticing her. Again.

“So you’re, uh…still…”

“Yeah…I’m still,” she says.

“That’s good,” he says, and means it. “Feelin’ okay?”

She shrugs. “A little tired…but yeah. I feel better. So far, so good, I guess.”

He nods thoughtfully and bites his lip, thinking of the calendar next to his bed. He can almost hear the days falling away.

“Look, I…uh…I shoulda said somethin’ before now. I…know I haven’t been the most…uh…I’m not trying to get out of…anything.”

She blinks up at him, brow furrowed, waiting for him to make sense. He winces, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I wanna help,” he tries again. “However I can. I know it’s not easy goin’ it alone,” he says, looking down at the bag with Ellie’s clothes and the onesie tucked at the bottom. Then he’s thinking of Sarah, of long nights spent pacing and rocking and soothing.

“You’ve done enough.”

“Oh,” he chokes out. “Uh, I, uh…s’pose I deserve that.”

Her eyes widen, cheeks turning a faint pink. Now it’s her turn to fumble her words.

“Oh…I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…you’ve been good. You’ve helped. I–shit. I’m sorry.”

There’s a painfully awkward silence as this sinks in and he bites back a smirk.

“We’re pretty fuckin’ bad at this, huh?”

“Yes,” she sighs. “We are.”

This admission seems to ease something between them. Before he can lose his nerve, he continues.

“Could I come to your next appointment? Is that somethin’ people still do?”

She nods slowly, considering this. “I have one next week. It’s not very exciting, but…you could come with me.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m not sure you will,” she says. “The midwife is…intense.”

“I’ve heard,” he says. “I think I can handle it.”

~*~

He can’t handle it.

The midwife, Joanie, is cold and abrupt and downright abrasive. He can’t imagine this person welcoming anyone, let alone his future child, into the world. He wants to put his arm around Charlie, turn her around, and tell her they’ll find someone else.

But he can’t. Jackson has one midwife. And the town doctor is a 76-year-old man who “doesn’t do babies”.

The woman is dressed in a long, flowing caftan, gray hair pulled neatly into a braid down her back. She looks like a hippie but her eyes are sharp, and her tongue is sharper.

“You brought the boyfriend this time,” she says as Charlie settles on the makeshift exam bed, a chaise lounge with a sheet draped over it. Joel can’t help but notice that Charlie doesn’t bother correcting her.

“You can sit,” Joanie says to him, gesturing to the chair next to the chaise. When he doesn’t move, she throws her hands up. “Or keep hovering. Whatever.”

Joel crosses his arms and barely restrains a snarl. Charlie shoots him a look as she slides her unbuttoned jeans down to her hips.

I told you.

The woman performs a cursory physical exam in silence. It’s obvious they’ve done this routine several times, and neither seems to feel the need to explain it to Joel.

The midwife is frowning, digging into Charlie’s belly with pointed, demanding fingers, feeling around until Charlie winces. Joel clenches a fist at his side, resisting the urge to snap at the woman for being so careless and rough.

“Growth is on track. You’re measuring at sixteen weeks.”

She pulls out a speaker attached to a wand–he vaguely recognizes it from appointments with Sarah’s mother at the beginning–and a tube of gel. She covers Charlie’s lower abdomen with goop and presses the wand in, levering it this way and that, seeking the sound of a second heart. There’s a long moment where he thinks they won’t find it–that this will be the day it all goes to hell.

But then there’s a familiar but distant echo, a rapid pulse of sound, the memory coming back to him across thirty-five years and an apocalypse. It’s the sound that once filled a small room in a sterile hospital. He remembers it as a black-and-white flutter on the ultrasound screen, fast and vigorous and alive .

Mine , he thinks dimly. He sinks into the chair because his legs no longer want to hold him.

The midwife, satisfied she’s found what she’s looking for, holds the wand steady and looks at her watch. It’s the shortest fifteen seconds of Joel’s life and he doesn’t want it to end.

“One-twenty-six. You can sit up.”

Charlie does. Joel notices she doesn’t bother trying to button her jeans. He vaguely remembers Sarah’s mother needing soft, stretchy things, and wonders if Charlie has anything like that.

“Any cramping?” Joanie asks, flipping through a file.

“No.”

“Still bleeding?”

Charlie hesitates for a fraction of a second. “A little. Not every day.”

Joel’s eyes snap to her at that, but she’s not looking at him.

The midwife frowns. “Given your advanced maternal age and your history, I don’t like to hear that.”

Her sharp eyes focus on Joel. “You’re, what, sixty?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Mmm. Sperm quality after fifty is a crapshoot,” she sighs. “You’re looking at an increased risk of genetic defects.”

Joel grips the arm of the chaise hard enough to rip it from the frame. He’s going to kill this woman.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” she continues. “Maternal-fetal medicine in this country was a shitshow before cordyceps, and the pandemic might as well have sent us back to the dark ages. I’ve seen one death for every five live births. Maternal survival rates are better, but only slightly.”

She’s looking at Charlie. “I can’t tell you you’re going to be okay. I can’t tell you your baby is going to be okay. I can only tell you what I think will help your chances and then…we wait and see.”

Charlie nods, her face drawn into a flat, emotionless mask as she takes this in.

“No more patrols. Light duty work only. No lifting. I can give you a doctor’s note for the council to reassign you if your regular job is too strenuous. No sex,” she says, looking pointedly at Joel. “And if the bleeding gets worse–if it’s bad enough that you need a pad–you go on bed rest immediately.”

Her eyes shift back to Joel. “Stress is a baby-killer. Your job is to take care of her and make sure there is no stress. None. If you can’t do that, you need to find someone who can.”

He grinds his teeth so hard he thinks he hears a molar crack.

“We’re done. I’ll see you next week,” she says dismissively.

And then Charlie’s off the chaise and ushering him to the door before he can open his mouth to give the woman hell and they’re stepping out into the rain. They make it to the end of the street before he stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he says, hating the way his voice shakes, recognizing the animal clawing within his chest as barely contained rage.

“I did–I warned you,” she frowns. “She’s rough.”

“No–I mean, the bleeding. You said you were fine.”

“I was. I am,” she says flatly. “You heard the heartbeat.”

“S’not what I meant and you know it,” he hisses.

Her lip curls in a snarl. “You fucked me once . You think that gives you the right to—to everything?”

He blinks. “That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

When he can’t answer, she turns and walks away. The sight of her retreating back hunched against the rain only serves to stoke the fire of his anger further. Her shirt is getting soaked.

Where the fuck is her jacket? She’s going to get sick.

He catches up and grabs her by the arm, turning her around and holding her in place.

“You heard her. How am I supposed to take care of you if you won’t fuckin’ let me?”

Only then does he see the tears in her eyes, rain mingling with salt on her cheeks. Guilt stabs at him and he loosens his grip.

“I don’t know,” she hisses. “I can’t just…be that person with you. I don’t fucking know you! I don’t even know your middle name, but we’re having a fucking baby. Or maybe we’re not, because our odds are shit, and I should have taken care of this when I had the chan–”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, he pulls her to him, wrapping her in his arms until he’s holding her in the middle of the street. “Stop. Please.”

She shudders but doesn’t push him away. The sky rumbles, threatening a downpour.

He ducks his head, speaking softly. “It’s Arthur.”

She snorts into his shoulder. “What?”

“My middle name. S’Arthur. After my grandfather.”

She makes a noise that sounds like a sob…or a laugh. He can’t tell. The sound stirs a frantic need within him and he grips her by the shoulders.

“Move in with me.”

“What? No.”

“Just until the kid gets here. Let me take care of you both.”

She looks up at him, eyes ringed with dark circles. A raindrop splashes on the tip of her nose and drips into the divot above her upper lip. 

“Do you even want this? I need to hear you say it.”

Any lingering anger melts away. He thinks of the soft yellow onesie still tucked into the bottom of his pack.

“I do,” he says, hoping the two little words are enough to hold her, to convince her.

She ducks her head with a watery sigh, close enough for her hair to brush at his chest. “Let me think about it.”

He nods. “Alright, but…not too long, okay? You’re, uh…”

He trails off as the back of his hand touches her stomach, just grazing the fabric over her bellybutton, before dropping back to his side.

She sniffs. “Yeah. I’m well aware we’re on a schedule.”

“Okay…okay then,” he nods, resuming their walk toward town. They’ve almost reached the trading post when she speaks again.

“It’s Sarah, by the way.”

The name takes his breath as it always does, pulls at that black hole in his heart that even Ellie can’t completely fill.

“I don’t under–”

“My middle name,” she sniffs. “You didn’t ask, but…it’s Sarah.”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, just ducks his chin in a nod. Sarah. Of course it’s Sarah.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

~*~

That night, she appears on his porch. The rain has let up, but her hair is still damp, matted to her temples. 

“I’ll stay with you,” she says without preamble. “Under one condition.”

He blinks. “Anything.”

“We don’t talk about the kid. No names, no what-ifs…no…playing house. I can’t do any of that,” she says. “We take it one day at a time and…see what happens.”

“If that’s what you want,” he says, swallowing hard.

She nods, satisfied. “Alright. I can bring some stuff by tomorrow.”

“Good. That’d be good. But I uh, need to tell Ellie,” he pauses, thinking. “Can I make dinner for you? For the three of us, I mean?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not playin’ house or whatever,” he clarifies, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “Just…figured the news might go down better with food.”

She nods slowly. “I could do that.”

“You like spaghetti? S’Ellie’s favorite and it’s hard for me to fuck it up.”

“I like spaghetti,” she says, smiling a little. “I get off work at six.”

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Six. See you then.”

~*~

That night, instead of staring at the ceiling during his usual sleepless hours, he moves most of his clothes into the spare bedroom closet and cleans his stuff out of the attached bathroom.

As he works, he thinks of Charlie’s unbuttoned jeans straining around her womb and the climbing summer temperatures. Soon there would be no hiding her stomach under a jacket or sweater.

Jackson was friendly, but it was still a small town. People got bored and they talked, and anyone who paid attention would have seen Charlie and Joel together. There were already enough rumors about Tommy Miller’s broody older brother and his mysterious adopted daughter, the one who wore long sleeves even on the hottest days and carried a switchblade.

Ellie.

Another pang of guilt gnaws in his gut. He’d done enough damage to their relationship as it was, and now he’s about to drop a fucking bomb.

He finds himself knocking on the garage door the next morning, hands rubbing restlessly at the thighs of his jeans as he waits for her to answer. He realizes it’s been a few days since he’s talked with her beyond a simple “hello” in passing, or to pass the salt at dinner, or to ask where she’d put the TV remote. He chides himself; Ellie is independent by nature, but she’s still a kid, still his responsibility. She’s never going to trust him again if–

She answers the door, rubbing her eyes and blinking owlishly up at him. She looks so young when she first wakes up, hair tousled, sleep lines on her cheeks.

“Hey, I uh…we’re, uh…having dinner at the house tonight. Makin’ your favorite. Spaghetti.”

She raises an eyebrow. Joel doesn’t usually cook if he can help it; the caf is easier and less prone to burning things. “What’s the occasion?”

He swallows hard. “There’s somethin’ I need to talk to you about. And…Charlie will be there.”

“Ooooo-kay,” she yawns. “Love a good third wheel situation, I guess.”

“S’not like that,” he shakes his head. “She’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she smirks, then sighs dramatically. “I guess I can make room in my packed social calendar for dinner. As long as it’s spaghetti. Maria’s sauce, right? ‘Cause yours is…yikes.”

She sticks her tongue out to drive the point home.

He snorts softly. “Yeah. Maria’s sauce. And garlic bread.”

“Cool.”

He nods, and the moment draws itself out, that awful, awkward, twisting silence filled with all the things he can’t say.

“So…was there something else?” she asks. “I gotta get ready for school.”

“No…nope,” he mutters. “I guess not. I’ll see you tonight, kiddo.”

~*~

He doesn’t quite burn the garlic bread, but it’s pretty fucking dark. He’s scraping the crumbs into the sink when Charlie appears at the door with a salad in hand and a backpack slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing an oversized blue button-down over soft black leggings. For comfort’s sake, he hopes the jeans have been retired for a while.

“Thanks,” he says, taking the bag, frowning at its weight. “You’re not s’posed to be lifting stuff.”

“I can handle a bag of clothes.”

He grunts, gestures to the salad. “You can put that on the table. Ellie’ll be over in a few.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“You can sit,” he says, perhaps too gruffly, placing her pack by the stairs. On the stove, the reheated marinara starts to bubble, spitting red flecks. He rushes to take it off the heat.

Ellie arrives just as Joel is setting the last bowl on the table. She nods in a wary greeting to Charlie, then helps herself to spaghetti and salad and bread.

“So what’s up?” she asks around a mouthful of food, forgoing any small talk—his kid, through and through.

Joel swallows hard, looks at Charlie, who simply shrugs as if to say this is your show .

He opens his mouth but the words are stubborn and nothing seems right.

You’re going to be a big sister.

Your old man is going to be a dad again.

I fucked up and we’re having a baby.

He’d never had to worry about this with Sarah. On the rare occasion a date went further than dinner, he’d been cautious to a fault. He’d been considering a vasectomy before the pandemic but time and savings were sparse. He probably could have had the procedure done back in the QZ, but Tess had been his only partner, and she’d had a hysterectomy in her thirties. An operation that would put him out of commission for any length of time seemed like an unnecessary waste of ration cards.

He realizes he’s lost in thought, and they’re both watching him, still waiting.

“So, uh…Charlie’s gonna move in with me for a bit,” he says. “I’m givin’ her my room, and I’ll take your old one…if that’s okay.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. “You two aren’t… together ?”

“No,” Joel mutters, meeting Charlie’s eyes across the table. “S’temporary. She just needs a place for a bit.”

“Weird, but…fine with me,” Ellie shrugs, then turns to Charlie. “Joel’s good at taking in strays, it’s kinda his thing. Case in point.”

Charlie smiles a little at this, takes a sip of her water.

“She’s, uh, gonna have a baby,” Joel continues, focused on his plate, pushing the food around.

“Oh shit, congrats!” Ellie grins at Charlie, then looks back at Joel. He can’t meet her eyes.

There’s a heavy silence. Joel grips his fork until the design in the handle makes an imprint in his palm. He waits for Ellie to do what she does so well, to pick up the hints, put the pieces together, and say the things he can’t.

“Wait,” Ellie says, looking back and forth between them, mouth dropping open in a scandalized O .

“You didn’t—”

She coughs then, choking on a mouthful of food, and fumbles frantically for her water glass.

“Joel,” she says when she can speak again. “Tell me you didn’t.”

All he can offer is a tiny shrug.

“Holy shit ,” she breathes, fork clattering to her plate. “You slut !”

Not for the first time, Joel wishes she had a proper full name–Elspeth, Eleanor, Elizabeth, Eliza–anything that, combined with a solid middle name, made for a convincing and forceful reprimand.

“Sarah Elizabeth Miller” was always effective when his first kid was being a little shit, even if he rarely had to use it.

As it is, he can only growl Ellie’s short-and-sweet name under his breath and watch it roll right off her back. She doesn’t miss a beat.

“Wow, I can’t…I mean, you just said you weren’t even together –”

“We’re not,” he grates out. “It was a…a one-time thing.”

His face is so hot, he can practically feel the vein throbbing at his temple. He wonders if his second kid will give him a fucking aneurysm before his third kid can even be born.

“Thanks for that, now I need to bleach my fucking brain,” she says. “Gross. So, so gross. Dude, you’re like, sixty .”

“I’m fifty-seven,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, so really fucking old . Do you not know how babies are made ? FEDRA school was shit but even they taught us how to put on a fucking condom—”

“Ellie, we didn’t—“

“Don’t, dude. Just stop. You’re really fucked up, you know that? Like, I know I have issues, but this is fuckin’—”

She’s interrupted by a muffled snort from the other side of the table. Charlie has clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes are brimming with tears. She’s going to fucking cry because his kid is an asshole and he is an even bigger asshole and this has gone all fifteen kinds of wrong.

Joel would like to die, right now, face down in a plate of spaghetti with his face the color of marinara—anything to end this godawful conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie gasps, and it dawns on him that she’s not crying at all–she’s struggling not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, I haven’t–this is just–holy shit .”

She breaks out into a peal of giggles, leaving both Joel and Ellie in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, heaving and hiccuping as she tries to catch her breath. “Everything has been so awful and serious and…this is just so…so…fucking funny –”

Ellie blinks, looking back and forth between Joel and Charlie in wide-eyed amazement.

Something in Joel’s chest unfurls from its tight, anxious knot, and when he meets Charlie’s eyes, he can’t help but return her grin.

“You two are fucked ,” Ellie pronounces, but there’s a slow smile spreading across her face.

“We are,” Joel agrees. “We’re fucked.”

“Totally fucked,” Charlie agrees, then giggles again.

Ellie shakes her head in disbelief, digging back into her spaghetti. “Welcome to the fucking family, I guess.”

~*~

Joel shows up for work the next day feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’d finally slept . Ellie, while completely disgusted, hadn’t disowned him; she’d even hugged him before returning to the garage. And Charlie had made herself at home, joining him on the couch to watch a movie after dinner.

Maybe this could fucking work.

His newfound peace lasts about as long as it takes for Tommy to find him and clap him on the shoulder.

“What’s this I hear about you takin’ in strays?”

Joel scowls, picking up an extension cord and trying to untangle it from a pile of the things. “Don’t believe everythin’ you hear.”

“So Charlie isn’t shackin’ up with you, then?”

“S’not like that. It’s temporary.”

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots his brother a look over his shoulder, weighing his options. The rumor mill isn’t churning as fast as he thought or Tommy would be all over it by now. He rolls his eyes, knowing what comes next will be just about as bearable as a tooth extraction, aware he can’t put it off any longer.

“She’s gonna have a kid.”

“Right,” Tommy snorts. “Your kid?”

Joel turns and holds his brother’s gaze.

“Holy shit,” Tommy breathes. “You’re serious?”

“You’re gonna be an uncle again,” Joel says dryly.

Tommy whistles. “Well, don’t that just beat all. How the hell–”

“The usual way,” Joel grumbles, turning back to his work. “Can we not do this here?”

But Tommy has never been easily deterred. He practically launches himself at his brother for a bone-crushing hug while half the work crew looks on, bemused.

“Christ, get offa me.”

Tommy doesn’t. When he finally pulls away, grinning and gripping Joel’s shoulders, he’s almost teary-eyed.

“Maria’s gonna be thrilled.”

“I doubt it,” Joel mutters, thinking he’s already not held in high esteem by his sister-in-law. Knocking up a girl twenty years his junior is hardly going to redeem him.

“Does Ellie know?”

“Yeah, we told her last night. She’s…about as excited as you’d expect.”

“Damn. I can’t—I mean, I always thought—after—“

Tommy sobers, and the word lingers heavy between them.

After .

“I know,” Joel says, realizing with a dull ache that his brother is the only other person alive who understands the gravity of the situation…the only one who knew Sarah as more than a sad story in their history.

Joel closes his eyes and sees his brother at twenty, Sarah’s tiny arms wrapped around his neck as she clings to his back, laughing wildly as he dives through the sprinklers on the front lawn.

He blinks the memory away, busies himself with the extension cord again. He doesn’t even remember what he wanted it for, but he needs to do something with his hands.

“But it’s good, right? This is good,” Tommy says, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Joel swallows hard. “It’s good.”

Tommy grins, then frowns just as quickly. “Oh, man. The midwife–”

“Yeah, she’s awful.”

“Maria damn near killed her when Izzy was born.”

“‘Bout ready to myself,” Joel mutters.

“And…you and Charlie ain’t…?”

Joel glares at him in answer. 

“Alright, brother. Damn, man. A kid…and at your age…”

Tommy laughs and ducks just in time to avoid the extension cord as it whips by his head.

#fanfic #fic recs #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #babyfic #pregnancy #tlou fanfic #tlou fic

[bokettochild]

Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

@kuroro-uwu Okay, I know I am LATE, but I did write it! I hope this suits your fancy!

Wordcount: 6,697

Rating: General

Summary: Minish Four and Fairy Hyrule go on a mini-expedition to seek out information. One minute, all is well, and the next- well, Four's not sure WHAT happened, but now he's got a passed out fairy on his hands and no clue what caused it.

(No warnings, this is all pure fluff)

-

They needed information. 

It really was as simple as that. They’ve been trying to learn anything they can about what’s happening to the worlds around them, but hylians are so often ignorant and their group is anything but subtle, so getting it without causing a stir has become something of an issue for the traveling heroes. 

It’s the weapons and armor, Legend tells them with a huff, and he’s not exactly wrong either. 

People do tend to become more wary when they see soldiers around in the country. 

He’d noticed it before, back when he hadn’t yet met the others. Carrying a sword put people on edge. An axe, a spear, or even a bow, out in the country, can be excused as a hunting tool or something to do with your trade. A sword though, a sword means that you are, undeniably, a fighter, and fighters don’t tend to go about armed unless there's danger around to be fought. So, correlation of swords to nearby danger makes people wary, and their group, all armed with swords, and many of them being intimidating looking persons, only further sets people ill at ease.  

Getting concrete answers from people who are questioning your intentions all the while isn’t easy, and by now, their group has sort of given up. Or rather, almost all of the others have; Four still has an ace up his sleeve. 

“I may have something I can try.” He states as the rest seem just about ready to give up for the day. 

Eyes turn to fix on him, various expressions of discouragement, frustration, disbelief, and exhaustion coloring the different shades of blue. It’s Legend that speaks though. “If it involves pretending to be a child, keep me out of it.” 

Twilight coughs into his fist, but his dark eyes sparkle. Simultaneously, Warriors rubs at his own brows, the captain following up their scholar’s words with his own. “What’s the idea, smithy? And please, do not say it requires-” 

“It’s a me thing,” he assures them. “You guys being around actually won’t work.” 

“No one is going off alone,” Time states, just at the same time as Warriors says: “What did we say about leaving the group behind?” Both men shoot glances at each other after, but then Four’s fixed with both stares, one tired and one firm, and neither wavering as he sighs. 

“It involves magic, and it won’t work with a second person.” 

Wild stares, pointed, but Twilight frowns. “S it what I think it is?” 

Abruptly, he remembers that Twilight does, in fact, know, and has known about this as long as he’s known the truth about the wolf. They hadn’t talked about it since, and he’s not exactly employed the magic since then, but Twilight had seen it all the same. “Yeah,” he nods, ignoring the confused looks from the others, “that thing.” 

“More secrets,” the captain sighs, “excellent.” 

A few eyes turn to the soldier, annoyed, but they can’t blame him. Four can’t either. It’s been a bit rough dancing around the new things falling on their heads when their brothers deem it the time to drop new knowledge out of nowhere. Even if he did know about the wolf, there’s still knowledge he hadn’t had about that one. 

“I’ll go with the smithy,” their rancher announces, turning to their leader. 

Time’s brows raise. “You have similar magic?” 

“Naw, but I can keep watch for him, an’ guard his back.” 

“No going off alone,” Warriors repeats, again, this time from behind a hand that’s scrubbing at his brows. “How may times must I say it?” 

But Twilight can’t come with, and neither can the others. No one else can because no one else can shrink down to the size of a minish! 

 If there’s anyone who will know what's going on across the kingdom at any given time, it’s always the little people. He knows they can give him answers even if no hylian will, but he’s not too eager to explain that. The other heroes might not even know about the minish, and if they do, the doubt on whether or not he should be able to see them still will linger or make them question his skill like they do with the sailor. Neither option is something he’s keen on. 

“I’ll go with,” and he doesn’t expect the traveler to speak up, but the other lad does, stepping forwards with an awkward half smile. “I’m decent with magic, so maybe I can replicate whatever you’re planning to do.” 

Given the choice between no answers and letting Hyrule in on it, he supposes the traveler is the better of the two options. The other lad is cheeky at times, but he’s capable, and trustworthy. Besides that, he’s kept so much secret about his own magic, to the point where they still have no clue about all of it. Surely, he can also keep Four’s secret as well, right? 

“Fine,” he nods to their curly haired companion before turning to their leader, expectant. 

Time sighs, glancing briefly at the captain, but then nods. “Be back at camp by dark.” 

“Understood.” 

- 

The good thing about working with Hyrule is that he’s good at following directions, and he never asks unnecessary questions. It’s clear he’s thinking them, of course, but he doesn’t talk too much, and he doesn’t push things with Four, not ever. It’s a bit of a welcome change of pace after having the heroes all up each others’ tails about so many things. 

They wander back through the village for a short while and into the inn and bar combo they’d been to with the rest. He knows the other two probably want to know what he hopes to achieve in here, even Twilight who knows his arsenal probably isn’t sure how it would be useful, but that’s not his main focus. 

They can ask their questions later. Right now, we need that portal. 

Where was it again, Vio? 

Left corner, floor level. Looks like a mouse hole. 

Well, it sort of is. Red snorts softly. It’s a minish hole. 

Very funny. Blue deadpans back. If he had his own eyes, he’d be rolling them, but all of Four knows it wouldn’t be in any real ire. That’s just how their more abrasive aspect is. 

Twilight and Hyrule are watching as he moves down to the corner. The rest of the folks within the inn don’t seem to even notice the trio, too busy with their own business. Those that do are carefully avoiding eye contact or even being caught staring, wary less they draw attention to themselves. It’s kind of sad, honestly, but Four doesn’t have time to dwell on it. 

Ezlo’s spell plays across his lips with the ease of a thousand speakings, and in seconds he’s down to his other normal size. 

Twilight grins down at him. 

Hyrule gapes for a moment. “Is this what you were talking about?” He asks, as though it’s not rather painfully obvious. Before Four can answer though, the traveler’s face twists up into a grin, eyes sparking. “Alright, I- I can work with this.” 

It’s his own turn to gape as the traveler himself mutters a few words, and in a brief cloud of magic, the young man is gone, replaced instead by the shimmering, hovering light of a fairy. 

Four stares. Twilight does as well. 

The ball of light laughs. “You said it yourself, we’re all sitting on something, smithy.” 

“Ordonia’s kids,” the rancher murmurs softly, “’fore we know it everyone will out ‘emselves as a shifter of some sort.” Neither of the other two have any knowledge of how true that rings, but regardless, they don’t exactly have any grounds to deny it either, considering it seems to be true of their little trio at least. 

Finally reclaiming control over speech, Four turns his face upwards to stare at his flying brother. Inside his head, Red is exclaiming in delight over the flight, Blue marveling at the wings, and Green ecstatic at the presence of a fellow shifter to match Four’s size, but outside his head, he has to focus. “This hole here should lead to a community of people more on the magical side.” he nods to the gap in the wall, starting a bit when the fairy’s light flickers and zips down to be level with him. 

It’s definitely Hyrule, although the change from Hylian to fairy is more than just a shift in size. He’s not sure which set of eyes to focus on or how to react to other definitely not hylian features displayed beside familiar ones, but Vio somehow wrests enough control to keep his face straight and his jaw in place. 

“It might take a bit, but the gossip vine is strong with these folks. They should have what we want to know.” 

“Excellent,” Hyrule trills, voice more melodic, but pleasantly so. It has the smithy’s ears flicking forwards to catch it better, the warm fairy magic settling his own. 

He glances up to Twilight, still normal sized and crouched in the corner, practically looming over them. “We’ll be back before dark. Just wait here, okay?” 

A thumbs up is their answer, and the rancher stands, hailing a server in the barroom and claiming the table closest to their future exit as the two smaller heroes- and by now they are much smaller- pop through the hole in the wall to move along to their destination. 

Minish passages are nothing new to Four, but Hyrule keeps gasping in surprise and delight as he looks about the lever and pulley systems between one part of the network and another. It has the smithy smiling to himself, and while it’s not his own work, he does take pride in the efforts of his little friends, and their skill, which he’s sure to share with the only other hylian (sort of hylian?) to get to see it firsthand. 

 “Inns like this are hotspots for minish too, just like people,” he explains to his wide-eyed companion. “They catch rides on wagons or in people’s bags sometimes, and, just like us, they need a place to stay when they tire.” He pads along carefully to the lift made from an old cup and some twine, climbing up into it and almost reaching out to offer a hand to the traveler, only to catch himself when he remembers the other has wings. “A big place like this is sure to house practically a city of minish, so it might take some time, but we’ll have lots of options when it comes to asking around for information.” 

The traveler nods, gaze flicking to the little lever just inches from the smithy’s tiny paw. The signal is clear. 

Four pushes the lever, and the lift starts its ascent, the fairy flying up behind him even as they watch another such lift lower, granting Hyrule his first sight of a real minish. The traveler’s catching breath and little gasp makes him smile, but he’s careful to warn the other the moment the other lift is out of sight. “Remember not to call anyone cute, okay? If anything, be prepared for them to call you that. They're not very used to fairies.” 

“Understood,” the traveler’s voice is distant as he looks around, words almost an afterthought as he seemingly takes in the whole of the new world he’s discovering. 

He won’t be much help, will he? 

He’s here so we’re not alone, Green sighs, although there’s no lack of fondness in his tone, He doesn’t need to help us, just be here so Time and Warriors won’t get upset. 

He won’t be able to understand the minish anyway, the more sedate aspect reminds the others, he’s never eaten a jabber nut. 

Right. 

Perhaps he should have remembered that earlier, but he wasn’t exactly planning on taking Hyrule this far along when he’d agreed to keep the traveler with him. If anything, he’d expected the other to wait with Twilight while he took care of the reconnaissance. Still, it should be alright, Hyrule seems content to stare about at the thrumming new world he’s witness too, and he lets Four take the lead as the smithy climbs out of the lift and starts towards the minish puttering about. 

Greetings rise here and there and everywhere, although no one seems to recognize him. If anything, that proves they’re not in his era, so even the small things mean something (as a small thing himself, the thought makes him laugh). Still, he guides the way, Hyrule fluttering after him and attracting many a startled stare. In the long run, he thinks Hyrule’s presence works to his favor, because while a minish stopping by at an inn and wandering about a new place is hardly anything to look twice at, a minish with a fairy trailing after him garners much attention, and before they know it, a very elderly looking member of the community approaches. The staff in his paw marks him as an Elder, and while the traveler doesn’t know that, he still bows his head politely at the sight of long flowing whiskers. 

“Greetings, strangers.” The elder smiles. 

Four bows, politely. Hyrule cannot, not while flying, but he thinks the respectful bob of the head the traveler offered will be enough. Minish are polite, but they aren’t fussy about others needing to be so. Well, those who aren’t Ezlo. “Greetings, elder.” 

“Greetings, elder.” Hyrule mimics, words a soft chime that echos off the interior of the inn’s walls. 

The elder smiles again, thanking them for their kind welcome. “Forgive my asking, but what is it that brings two youngsters like yourselves here?” 

“We seek knowledge of the world outside.” Four answers, because obviously Hyrule can’t. “We are travelers through time, and this era is new to us.” 

“Ah.” 

“We have hylian companions who need knowledge in order to travel safely, so we hoped to come here and inquire what there is to be known of the world outside.” 

His explanation is met with some surprised twitching of noses and flicking of ears, little murmurs all around them, excitedly twitching tails flicking all sorts of colors from the many gathered minish peoples, but he pays them little mind, although Hyrule stares about in awe. The elder welcomes them though to speak to any they would like. “I have not been in the outside world for some time now, but we have many travelers, like yourselves. Please, ask all you would like. I hope we are of aid to you young heroes.” 

It’s only when he’s watching the elder’s tail disappear into the crowd again that he realizes at all that they should not have been recognized as heroes. Then again, Minish Elder’s are proficient in magic most times, and maybe he’d sensed it. At any rate, the title seems to spark excitement among those gathered around the two heroes, and it’s no trouble at all to find who he should speak to. In fact, it’s more a matter of them trying to speak to him all at once! 

Hyrule hovers at his shoulder as he asks questions and talks. Well, he does at first, but after a few minutes, the fae drifts away, looking around curiously, soft chiming voice echoing back to Four here and again from different parts of the space claimed by magic.  

He’s able to learn there’s no hero known about in this era, and that the last one that anyone remembers was a little boy who was close to the fairies. Considering the fondness all his brothers have for all creatures magical, it’s not a very specifical descriptor, but it’s something at least. Maybe one of the others will be able to pinpoint who it is talking about, be it themselves or someone else they’ve heard of. He does learn though, that the world isn’t in the best of shapes. Dark magic is common, a side effect of Ganon’s power, despite the fact that the monster is sealed away. 

That, he decides to ask about. 

Most of the minish don’t have answers, saying they avoid it, saying they only heard it from someone else, but pressing them leads him on a bit of a goosechase all over the building, looking for this person who knows more and that one who does as well. 

Like hylians, minish have many a trade, and a place like this is basically their equivalent to a trade city, even if the hylian town around it is rather small. Packed up in one building, but spread across rooms, attic spaces, the cellar, the larder, and even the bar itself, he finds himself hunting down leads and doing a few favors in order to get what he needs to know. He's halfway through delivering some mushrooms in exchange for more details on the dark magic that apparently lies around the world, when Hyrule’s soft glow returns to his side again. 

“Four, I think we need to head back.” 

He sighs. “I know, but I’ve got a lead.” 

“We could come back tomorrow?” 

A shake of the head as he adjusts his hold on the mushroom; it’s huge in comparison to himself. “No, apparently they’re leaving at dawn with the coach that stops here.” 

Hyrule’s feet touch the ground, wings stilling. Honestly, he thought fairies flew everywhere, but he supposes that a shapeshifter might use various methods. “Four, we have to go back.” 

“I’m this close to getting answers,” he drops his shroom to pinch two claws close together. “Just a bit longer, okay? Time will understand.” 

He’s not sure what time it is, but the noise of patrons in the inn does carry slightly past the magic of the minish to sound in his ears. Inns and bars are always noisy, especially when combined, but while he’s not their old man, his inner clock isn’t bad either. They have time before sunset, and if they didn’t, he wouldn’t have risked trying this at all. 

“Come on,” he urges. “Help me with this shroom. The sooner I deliver it, the sooner this guy will tell me what I need to know.” 

Hyrule’s face is pinched, and briefly it registers that something isn’t quite right about it, but it’s hard to tell with changed features and maybe it’s just worry from the traveler. He dismisses it, promising both Hyrule and himself that they’ll only take a very little bit longer. 

- 

They deliver the shroom, but in true runabout fashion, the only knowledge he gets from the minish in question is a few wary words that had been heard from someone else entirely, and he’s sent darting across the inn again to try and find that other minish before they too decide to leave. It’s the frustrating thing about communities like this, rather than the ones he finds in the countryside. Minish who make their homes in the forest, the grass, or even up in the mountains and quarries, they all keep to their own space. Traveling minish, those in small towns and hylian communities, are often unpredictable from one day to the next, and there’s no telling when or where you’ll have a chance to see them. 

Hyrule tries asking again, telling him that they really need to get going, but Four brushes him off. One or two minutes more. Just a bit. He’s almost done, he promises! 

The traveler’s feet are dragging a bit as he follows the smith, and his wings have long since folded against his back. It’s clear he’s tired, and Four is too, but they’ve only got so many chances to learn what they need to know, and passing this up would be foolish. It would make this whole trip into the world of the minish utterly pointless! 

Finally, though, he’s able to find someone who doesn’t send him on an errand, who doesn’t ask for anything he doesn’t already have and who is both willing and capable of answering his questions. Near immediately, Four dugs a notebook from his bag and starts asking. How strong is this dark magic? Has it affected any monsters? Have monsters been a prominent problem recently? Are they acting oddly? Does the magic have any effects on anything else?  

The minish, who in an odd way reminds him of Time; a prominent scar running over one eye and with a shredded ear on the same side, answers his questions. The magic effects the water and the land, and monsters are more abundant now than they had been years ago. They get worse every year, and they are stronger than the elders say they used to be. None of it lines up with the supposed infection of the monsters in other eras, but Four is not ruling it out as a possible source or contributor. He keeps asking, getting more details, channeling his more pragmatic self, but also the tactful part. He needs to think of this as a traveler, a fighter, and a survivor. In a way, he tries asking what Legend or Warriors or Twilight might ask. What would Wild want to know? What would Time need answers too? He’s going to be the one passing on this information to them after all, so he needs to be ready for the inevitable questions they’re going to have. 

He sort of forgets that Hyrule is still waiting for him. Really, the only reason he remembers at all is because his informant tells him that it’s getting late, and she can’t think anymore. “That should cover everything anyway, I hope it helps.” 

He bows his head, still sitting, so he can’t offer a proper bow, even though he wants to. “Of course. Thank you so much for your help.” 

She waves a farewell to him before heading off to wherever it is that she’s going to rest for the night. He’s seen beds around, but didn’t ask, and never does. Honestly, he should be heading back, because bed sounds fantastic right about now! He turns, stuffing his notebook back in his bag, only to stop short when he sees the traveler. 

Hyrule looks like shit. 

The fairy is slumped over, glow almost gone and while there’s no apparent injury, no sign of what on earth would cause him to look so, he looks a bit like death! The smith drops down beside his friend, catching the fae’s face in his hands and patting freckled cheeks cautiously. “Hyurle? Hey! Hey, I’m done. We can go back now.” 

There’s no answer. 

Despite knowing Hyrule was fine before, knowing the minish would never harm him, probably couldn’t without special magic, he still gives the other a once over. There are no visible injuries, nor blood. His eyes, when pried open with claws that struggle so hard not to slip, don’t show signs of being concussed. For all intents and purposes, Hyrule isn’t hurt, but his skin is pale, the fairy’s glow is absent, and he slumps almost lifelessly against the walls. 

We need help. Green sighs, desperately trying to balance his thoughts. 

Blue’s voice is low, straining. The elder? 

Is he going to be okay? 

Hush Red, and Blue, the elder can’t do anything for a fairy. Minish magic is too different. 

Well, we could try at least! 

Guys, please. No fighting. We need to focus on Hyrule. 

Blue seethes, but doesn’t argue, something he’s been doing much better with as of late. Vio on the other hand, does continue his stance. We should take him back to Twilight. Maybe he can help. 

But Twi doesn’t like magic! 

But he is Time’s kid, and he loves fairies. Maybe he knows something about them that we don’t. Come on. 

The logic of his logical facet wins over the rest of him, and for lack of a better course of action, the minish hero hefts his fairy brother up into his arms. Hyrule’s still bigger than him like this, but he’s also always been very light, and the smith is strong. Gathering his brother up onto his back, careful not to crush iridescent wings, he heads back for the lift. 

- 

Catching Twilight’s attention is hard, once they’re back out in the world of Hylians. His intent originally had been to shift back with a murmur, but he doesn't know how to trigger the change for Hyrule, and without a glow to aid him, he’s not sure how quickly he’d be able to find the traveler again after the shift to his normal size, which always leaves him just a bit disoriented. That, and if it turns out Hyrule needs help of the more hands-on sort, it’s more practical to stay on the same scale as the traveler in order to give it. 

Luckily for him, and the traveler, he has lots of experience in trying to make himself heard, and while the sound of a screaming voice would definitely draw unwanted attention, there is a sound he knows will, without fail, catch the rancher’s attention without scaring other people. Four sucks in a breath, and with all the ability he’s got in him, he pushes it out in a sharp little ‘meow’. 

Twilight’s ears prick up immediately, the rancher lowering the drink he was holding to scan the area around him, eyes glittering. 

Four tries again, a soft ‘mew’ that takes every bit of breath he has but has bright blue eyes fixing on him in seconds.  

Twilight chuffs, looking slightly disappointed, but also relieved. Well, until his eyes land on the traveler, and then the man is sliding from his chair to crouch, facing the wall and shielding the two small heroes from sight. “What happened?” he asks, offering a hand laid flat on the ground before them. 

Typically speaking, Four does not care to be picked up, especially like this, but for the traveler’s sake, he allows it. Stepping onto the rough pads of the rancher’s fingers is a bit of a struggle with his hands supporting the fae slumped over his back, nd after failing twice he gives up. Instead, he turns and carefully lets his brother slip down into Twilight’s hand first, crawling after him once he’s got use of his hands again. 

The rancher waits until they’re both stable, Four holding Hyrule with one hand and fisting a tiny fold of his glove with the other, before he stands again, carefully steady as he heads back to his table. “Is he okay?” 

Four shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s not injured, and I don’t think he’s concussed, but he just-” his gaze drops down to the freckled face cradled in his lap, “-I turned around and he wasn’t moving anymore.” Breathing, yes, softly and slowly, almost too slowly, but it was steady, and considering he doesn’t know how fairy bodies work, maybe that was how it was meant to be. He’s not sure, and he hates not knowing, but as long as Hyrule is still breathing, things will be okay. Goddesses, he hopes he’ll be okay! 

Glancing up at the rancher, he sees furrowed brows and a harsh frown. It’s not angry, not fierce, but guilt plummets through him all the same as he watches it. 

There’s silence for a spell, just blue eyes staring down at him as he sits in the rancher’s hand, Hyrule pulled into his lap, wings still behind him without so much as the slightest of twitches. The traveler’s breath is shallow but steady as it puffs against his collar. And then Twilight speaks. “Did he maybe touch something weird?” 

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t watching him, but this Hyrule, not Wild.” Hyrule doesn’t touch unknown things, not without taking every precaution to ensure they’re not dangerous. Besides, minish don’t tend to keep anything dangerous around, and if they do, it’s well hidden and out of sight. Even lacking experience with other living beings, Hyrule isn’t the sort of person to go poking around other people’s possessions in plain sight. No, he’d wait until no one was around to see or stop him, and then he’d get into their stuff. 

The rancher’s frown deepens, but then midnight blue eyes are falling on Four again, something almost apologetic in their depths. “Look. I don’t got a clue, smith, but we gotta get him help.” The unspoken rings in the air between them: ‘we need to talk to someone else who knows about this stuff, and that means telling them your secret’. 

He sighs, nodding. “Time seems to know the most about fairies.” 

The rancher’s head jerks in a sharp nod, rupees hitting the table as the man pays for his drink and then he’s whisking them out the door and back towards camp. 

- 

It feels like it takes forever for Twilight to return with Time. 

Rather than announce their presence, and thus secrets, to the whole chain, he’d carefully settled the two tiny heroes on an old tree stump at Four’s instruction. Vaguely, he thinks it might be a minish portal, or close to one, but that’s something to worry about later. For now, he’s looking after Hyrule as best he can in a cave made from the rancher’s pelt, erected for their protection against any predators while the other fetches their leader under the premise of Hyrule and Four needing to talk with him. The rest will worry, and have questions, but they’ll (probably) respect the privacy of the other two, if only as long as they’re gone. Returning to camp will, no doubt, come with questions, but right now, helping Hyrule is what matters most. He’ll handle anything that comes after, as long as the traveler will be okay. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into brown curls, not for the first time since Twilight left, “just hang in there, traveler, okay? Time will be here soon, and we’ll get you all fixed up.” 

He dutifully ignores how dark hair darkens further in the fading light of twilight. How the hand that's fallen to brush his leg has claws at the fingers, that as the shadows grow longer, he could almost pretend he’s holding somebody else. No, he focuses on Hyrule and that it is, in fact, Hyrule he’s clutching ahold of under the fur, waiting for their leader to come to them. 

Time’s puffing breath announces his presence, alongside heavy feet to match the easy lope of their rancher. The way that he heaves for breath, he really does sound like an old man, but when the fur is moved aside and Four can see their leader’s face, he rethinks that. Time looks worried, terribly worried, and the heavy breathing is probably from a slight panic rather than anything else. Hylia above, what did Twilight tell him? 

“What happened?” Time demands, even as Four shivers slightly at the return of the breeze the fur had blocked off. 

He sighs, tired, worried, and tired of being worried. “Hyrule collapsed. I don’t know why, but he’s not waking up no matter what I do.” 

The blue arrow painted between their leader’s brows distorts as his face pinches up, the man dropping to a knee with surprising grace in order to be better level with the two shrunken heroes. “Is he injured?” 

Twilight shakes his head. “Four already checked.” 

A hand, slightly smaller than Twilight’s own, but somehow more callused, is extended towards them. Even that motion is more graceful from their old man than from the rancher, and Four is surprised by the lack of panic having it settle before him causes. “Let me look at him?” 

It’s work to climb up again, shifting Hyrule with all the care he can before depositing him in the old man’s palm, but he does it. Time doesn’t say anything as the man pulls in their precious cargo a bit closer, staring down with his good eye and prodding gently at the fallen form of the traveler. 

 Behind him on the stump, Four feels Twilight settle, blocking off the breeze and providing a wall of warmth that assures nothing else will appear behind him. “Well?” 

“Shh.” Time breathes, but it’s not harsh. His gaze is incredibly gentle in fact, and as he handles the tiny form in his hand something impossibly warm lights his blue eye beneath the worried furrow of his brows. They wait. It feels like forever, but they wait, and they don’t press until, at last, their leader lifts his eyes to them instead, relief coloring his expression. “Magical exhaustion.” 

“No,” Four shakes his head. “I’ve seen Hyrule overuse his magic. He gets tired, but he doesn’t turn.... grey. And he doesn’t stop moving!” 

“That’s when he’s a hylian,” one blue eye drops again, a sad little smile tugging at the mouth of the elder man. “As a fairy, it works differently.” The hand lowers, moving close to Four again, offering him the responsibility of taking back his unconscious brother while Time turns his attention to his bag. “Transformation magic takes a lot out of a fairy. For Hyrule, being a fairy would be the transformation, but if, for some reason, he’d been brought into a space where only tiny beings could exist, rather than changing back when his magic runs out,” the potion’s cork pops loudly in the night air, “he’d get stuck.” 

“Stuck?” He and Twilight chorus together. 

Time nods. “Yes. His magic knows he can’t change back inside a tiny space, but if it’s run out, then he can’t maintain his form normally either. Instead, he has to draw directly on his magical core, which strains him considerably. That’s why usually, when fairies are weak enough to need to pull on their core, they slip into a hibernation so that their magic can keep them alive at the least cost to their core.” As if sensing the inevitable question, the man adds, “drawing on a core for too long damages it.” 

“So...” Twilight blinks, speaking for them both. “He’s in hibernation?” 

“For now.” 

“How do we fix it?” Blue takes the reins, and the others let him. 

The old man raises the potion bottle in his hand. In the faded light, Four can’t make out the color (how appropriate) so he waits to hear it spoken. “A green potion ought to help restore his magic and stop him drawing on his core for survival.” 

“Then he’ll change back?” 

He sees their leader wince, and Twilight does too, shoulders tightening above him. “He will change back, right, old man?” 

Time avoids their gazes, reaching for his bag again. “Not without doing it himself, but he should, yes.” 

“Good.” 

“We just have to wait until he wakes up.” 

“And...how long will that take?” 

A flinch. “Even with his magic restored, it’s unlikely he’ll come back immediately. He’ll need time.” If Legend were here, or Wild, one of them would point out that their leader is here now, so what else could be needed? But they’re not here, and neither Twilight nor Four speaks up in their place.  Instead, Four stares as Time produces something else, settling it before him carefully, before lifting his hand away. With nothing blocking him, he’s able to see that the object set before him is a thimble, “I think you ought to help him with the potion, Four. At his current size, we’re more likely to harm than help.” Which isn’t true at all. 

In reality, Time helps quite a bit as he pours out the potion (that they all claim is green) into the thimble, which is far more manageable for Four to lift. Situating the traveler against his front, he has to fumble a bit to get the rim to his brother’s mouth, but Time’s finger helps steady the traveler while he does so, stopping him sliding away from the smithy’s front or his head falling to either side. It’s awkward, when he actually stops to think about it, but they make it work. 

After the first thimble, Time pours three more, which is honestly more than Four thinks he could hold in his own body at this size, but the old man assures that it’s basically liquid magic, and the traveler will need lots in order to wake again. “Four thimbles might not be enough, but we’ll see.” He tells them, once more taking the traveler in his own hold, hand cradling the limp form of the fairy with all the care he’d show a baby. More, maybe. Fairies are smaller than babies, so they are a bit more delicate. 

“What now though?” He asks, watching. 

Time’s gaze falls on him in answer. “Do you need help shifting back?” 

“Should I?” 

“If you can.” 

“And if he needs more of the potion?” 

“He won’t,” the hand holding his brother tilts slightly, although Time needs not lower it at all for Four to see the faint shimmer of green light that the fairy within is emitting. “I think that was enough. I’ll have him drink the bottle when he’s changed back, but you don’t need to help any further, smithy.” 

He nods.  

Finding a portal in the dark takes some help from Twilight, but once he has, and has shifted back, it’s a breath of fresh air. Returning to their leader’s side though, he finds the man now seated on their previous stump, gaze fixed on the tiny, unmoving, but also unwavering, glow in his hands. 

“Is he waking up?” He asks, slipping from Wolfie’s back to stand at their leader’s side. At this size, Hyrule looks even tinier, and so much more breakable in Time’s big hand. He’s not moving though, still. 

Time shakes his head though, as though the smithy can’t see for himself. “As I said, he’ll need a while to come around.” Blue lifts, and it’s strange to have their leader level with himself. “You boys should head back to camp. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“What about you?” Shadows slip free of the wolf, leaving the rancher standing in it’s place, brows furrowed and voice low. 

Time’s gaze drops to his precious cargo, a tiny, almost tender smile touching his features. “I’ll wait for him. Tell the rest that Hyrule needed my time a bit longer, but we’ll be back when he’s ready.” 

So, they do.  

They head back to camp, joining the others for dinner just as Wild’s beginning to serve it. There are questions, and he still is yet to make his report, but doing so is a quick way to divert attention from their absent leader and wanderer. Later, Time will come back, a sleepy, but normal sized Hyrule curled in his arms, face buried against his chest as the traveler dozes, but for now, the camp muses over the information they were given. Any questions on how he’d gotten this knowledge are lost to worry about Hyrule’s absence, and any fear for Hyrule is lost to questions about the report Four gives. 

When Time does come back, it’s only after Warriors has assigned shifts and most of them have at least pretended to go to bed. Their leader’s return has them all watching though, no longer pretending as their eyes, so many shades of blue, follow Time’s path through camp to his bedroll, to Hyrule’s settled beside it at Warriors behest. The man settles the traveler down carefully, but the hand caught in his tunic isn’t pulled free, instead tolerated as long hair is brushed back from freckled cheeks and their leader settles down beside the younger hero. 

Even when his good eye slips shut, there’s something warm playing on Time’s face as Hyrule unconsciously nestles up against him once more, and a callused hand becomes lost in dark curls. 

Twilight’s gaze meets his own, something like a smile in them as he shrugs, disrupting his blanket. Four just smiles back, shaking his head. Fairy boys, the unspoken thought flickers in both of their heads. It’s only when he lays down again though that he realizes that Time might even be who the minish meant when talking about the last hero. 

Well, that would make sense. He’ll ask tomorrow though, right now, he has no interest in disturbing either of the two heroes. 

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #lu four #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu time #fairy hyrule #minish four #fluffic

[ladamedusoif]

Family (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 25

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications!

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 1903

Rating: Teen

Warnings: No physical description of reader; no use of Y/N; set after S3 of The Mandalorian; references to illness

Aliit ori’shya tal’din - Family is more than blood (Mandalorian proverb)

***

Din doesn’t get sick. Injured, sure. But sick? Never.

The strange, fuzzy feeling in his head is just a headache, he reasons to himself as he potters around the house, back early from a job and waiting for you to return from collecting Grogu from school in the town. You’ve been helping them out for a few months now, taking care of housekeeping and looking after the little boy when his father is away or busy during the day. 

Din likes having you around. In the beginning, he’d leave almost as soon as you arrived at their cabin, having travelled from the nearby farm you lived on with your widower father. But now, he lingered. He was glad when you suggested coming by on days when he was there, to help show him the basics of managing the household. He would never admit it, but he missed you when you went home in the evenings.

He pours a glass of water and tries to focus, bringing his hand to his forehead and being surprised to find it cold and clammy, even though he feels like he’s on fire. 

He can’t be sick, though. Not him. He sips the water and promptly splutters it back out as his body is racked with a hacking cough.

He can hear you and Grogu chattering as you approach the house. A few deep breaths and sips of water, and his helmet is back on before you’ve even opened the door.

***

It had become a habit to stay after picking Grogu up from school, to help out with preparing the main meal for him and Din. Din appreciates your help - he tells you how much he’s learned from you, and how much he still needs to know. 

Today, you stand side by side at one of the worktops peeling vegetables and chopping them into bite-size chunks to accompany the meat that’s cooking nicely in the oven, filling the little cabin with its aroma. You look over to see how Din is getting on, and are struck by the fact that his chopping is a far cry from its usual even, meticulous standard.

More worryingly, you’re sure you can hear him wheezing through his modulator. He’s leaning heavily on the worktop, as if for fear he’ll fall. 

“Din? Are you okay?”

He shakes his head. “I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”

No sooner has he resumed his work than a horrible, hacking cough has him bent double, gasping under his helmet. Even Grogu is scared - you can see it in his big dark eyes as he drops his toys and runs to comfort his beloved father.

“That’s not a headache, Din. You’re sick.”

The Mandalorian grips the edge of the counter and hauls himself up to his full, imposing height, Grogu still clinging to his leg. “I am not sick. I don’t get sick.”

You toss your knife on the chopping board. “Are Mandalorians somehow special, that they don’t get a simple cold, now and again?”

He does that exasperated sigh you’ve heard too often.

“Alright, Din. You’re not sick. But tell me how your body feels, being not-sick.”

That sigh.

“My head feels a little fuzzy. I have this slight cough. That’s it.”

“No fever?”

He shakes his head again, and you spot him tightening his grip on the counter. “I am fine. Now, can we please make some dinner?”

***

You tend to eat outside, on the veranda, if you’re eating with Din and Grogu. It means he can take off his helmet and eat comfortably, without revealing his face to someone outside his family.

You eat the last of your vegetables and survey the little garden the clan of two have cultivated, with your help. A little pond, a vegetable patch, even some desert flowers that bloom happily in the dry, sandy soil. 

A proper home for the little family, you muse. From what your father and Karga had told you about Din and Grogu’s past, you knew they deserved this little sanctuary.

Your reverie is shattered by the sound of distressed noises coming from inside the cabin - Grogu, babbling in panic and crying out with fear. You drop your bowl and are about to race inside when you stop, remembering that Din may well have his helmet off. 

“I’m coming in. Din? Just giving you fair warning.”

No answer. Just more frightened coos and what sounds like metal scraping on the floor.

“Din?”

Still nothing.

“Grogu? Is it okay for me to come in?”

The door to the cabin opens and the child races out and flings himself into your arms, pointing back into the house and babbling something in his curious mix of Basic and Mando’a about his father.

You understand as soon as you enter. 

There, on the floor of the kitchen, his helmet barely on, lies an unconscious Din Djarin.

***

With the help of Grogu’s powers, you lift Din and move him to his bed, still unresponsive. Din is definitely breathing, thankfully, but there’s a crackling wheeze in his chest that scares you as you manoeuvre his broad body onto the mattress.

If it was anyone else you’d be taking his temperature and preparing cold compresses for his brow. But this is a Mandalorian, one who takes his creed very seriously, and even the prospect of exposing Din’s chest feels like a violation.

When his body starts to tremble, despite the blankets you’ve pulled over him, you take an executive decision.

“Grogu?” He looks up at you from his spot beside his sick father on the bed. “I’m going to open up your dad’s shirt, just a little. I need to hear his breathing and try to cool him down. I’m not going to hurt him.”

With a coo and a nod he confirms that he understands. You expose just enough of Din’s broad chest to assess his temperature, the clammy, hot skin while Din continues to shiver proof of the severity of the fever. 

Grogu places his little hand on his father’s chest, eyes wide with fear and concern. He can heal many injuries, but the Force is no match for whatever virus or infection is raging through Din’s system. 

“We’re going to make your buir all better, I promise. Can you help me with that?”

He nods and hops off the bed, following you into the kitchen where you fill some bowls with cold water and find rags to make cold compresses. Grogu watches attentively as you place the damp cloths on Din’s chest, rising and falling with each shallow breath. 

“Now, you need to stay here and keep the cloths on his chest, okay? I’m going to try to make up some medicine to help make him all better.”

Before she died, your mother had taught you a few simple herbal remedies that could be easily prepared in advance, dried, and carried with you, in case of emergency. “Bacta is a wonderful thing,” she’d counseled, “until you find yourself in the middle of nowhere with a fever.”

You retrieve the little vials of dried herbs from your bag and set some water to boil, ready to make the infusion. The liquid turns an ominous purple colour as the herbs brew, and you can’t help but chuckle as you imagine how Din would react if you presented him with this in the whole of his health.

When the medicine has cooled enough to be administered, you return to Din’s simple, neat bedroom, where Grogu is dutifully pressing the cloths to his father’s chest. You praise him effusively, showing him how to wring out the cloths and make them colder again.

As you prop Din up on the pillows, you realise that you aren’t going to be able to give him the special medicine as you would anyone else. Gingerly, you push back his helmet just enough to expose his mouth.

You pause for a moment as you realise this is the most you’ve ever seen of the Mandalorian. Seeing the open expanse of his golden, battle-scarred chest and the peek of his jaw somehow seems more intimate than if Din was lying here completely naked. His mouth is pink and plush, and you are surprised to realise that Din has a moustache, as well as a patchy beard, of sorts. You push away the temptation to peek further, as well as the desire that’s rising inside you.

“Help me give your buir this medicine, Grogu. Can you keep his helmet at this angle for me?”

The little boy is only too keen to help, and you slowly, steadily, feed Din the mixture you hope will heal him.

***

Other than changing the water and the compresses, you do not move from Din’s side all night. Grogu falls asleep on his father’s chest, and you scoop him up and bring him to bed, placing a little kiss to his fuzzy scalp as you tuck him into his cot. He coos sleepily in appreciation.

You are waiting for Din’s fever to break, the turning point in any illness like this. If it doesn’t happen tonight, you’ll need to seek a medic in the morning. 

His helmet is still up slightly, and you study the line of his jaw, the little divot in his lower lip, the dark hair of his moustache. You trace the scars on his body, wondering about the stories behind each one, feeling a simultaneous sense of relief that he is still here and dread at the prospect of this man being wounded - or worse - in the future.

In the darkest hours of the night, with Din’s breathing still heavy and laboured, you find yourself reaching for his hand: running your fingertips over his broad palm and thick fingers before holding it gently, willing the herbal mixture to do its work. He is all Grogu has, after all. He is his entire family, and vice versa. 

And what are you?, asks a little voice inside you. Is this your clan, too?

You have pressed your lips to the back of his hand before you realise what you’re doing.

***

His stirring wakes you to the half-light of early morning, your hand still wrapped around his.

“Din?”

He tries to sit up, reaching in panic to adjust his helmet when he realises how much of his face is exposed.

“Din, take it easy…” You press your hand to his chest and sigh with relief as you realise his temperature is normal.

“What…why - what happened?”

“You were sick, had a bad fever - you’ve been out since yesterday afternoon.”

“I don’t get sick.”

You roll your eyes and chuckle. “Yes, you do. Hate to break it to you.”

You swear you can hear a huffed laugh from under his helmet.

“Din, I… I’m sorry for opening your shirt, lifting the helmet - I had to, it was the only way to help. I only saw part of your jaw, but… I’m so sorry.”

To your surprise, he reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m grateful. You didn’t have to stay here.”

I wanted to take care of you. I want to take care of you. I need to take care of you.

“I couldn’t have left you. Anyway, what would we - I mean, what would Grogu do without you?”

Another gentle squeeze of your hand.

“What would I do without you, cyare?” 

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #din djarin #din djarin x f!reader #din grogu #grogu #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #domestic din djarin #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

[triplesilverstar]

All's well that ends Well

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Eriks X F!Reader

CW: Grinding, kissing, pining, vaginal fingering, being wet, awkward first kiss, unsure of feelings

Word count: Roughly 5.4K words

A/N: So this was another one inspired by art... plus Vash is not referred to as Vash at any point in this series so the reader just knows there's something a little off about him. This will be a three-parter and I have no idea of a timeline for it or how big it's going to be. So enjoy more of my ramblings. 

You had to laugh behind your hand as Eriks almost tripped on the loose floorboard in the middle of the porch with the hamper filled with wet clothes to be hung outside on the line. After this last year of living with the three of you, you had to admit the two-toned-haired man had made more than enough of an impact in your lives. 

Lina had a male figure in her life that she could endlessly tease, Granny had someone to scold and fuss over, and you? Well, you had someone to have the occasional beer with and chase after Lina when she got into trouble. Even if you had been apprehensive when Lina first brought the strange man home, which in retrospect was funny given how you had come to live with Lina and Sheryl. Better known as Granny.

Five years earlier you had been a bandit running around causing chaos, and you’d gotten sick before coming to the town. Left to die by the others in the gang as your forehead burned and you watched the world through a haze, barely able to make out two blurry figures that approached you. Waking up several days later in a bed you didn’t remember falling asleep in and feeling better, though a lingering cough would forever plague you. Saved by Lina’s parents. 

A debt you felt you could never repay when they were killed. Sheryl had after a few weeks of grieving over the loss of her children allowed you to stay and help her raise Lina. Or at least try too. 

It had been different going from being a gunslinger to a, well you weren’t really sure what to call yourself. Looking after the small crops the family grew, a little bit of Tomas raising, and mainly trying to keep Lina out of trouble.

So the day you came back from the field exhausted and seeing a man wearing some of Lina’s father's old clothes and passed out on the couch in the living room left you reeling. 

Hours later rubbing your eyebrows after Lina explained how she had found him and she and Granny had cleaned the man up before he passed out. “How do we know he isn’t a bandit or something?” 

“Now dearie.” A light scolding sent your way from across the table you and Granny were still sitting around after chasing Lina to bed. “Not everyone has the best beginnings, we don’t judge them for that. Not in this house.” The tips of your ears burn as you let out a few coughs trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. 

“I see your point, Granny.” Dragging the back of your hand across your lips to catch any of the spittle. “Here’s hoping Lina has better sense than usual.” Shifting the hand to trail it through your hair and rubbing at the back of your neck. 

“Our girl has a good head on her shoulders.” 

That night you’d slept light, the lowest creak of the floorboards, or groaning of the house waking you from your slumber. When you finally stepped from your bedroom the next morning the bags under your eyes took up most of your face, moving on autopilot towards the kitchen. Freezing in the doorway you saw the tall man standing at the counter next to Lina following the young girl’s directions in making breakfast. Granny sitting at the table with a tea in hand and watching with amusement. 

“You look like you slept well last night.” If looks could kill Granny would have keeled over as you dropped into one of the chairs at the table. Dragging a hand down your face in your exhausted state.

“Very funny.” Snorting before raising your hand in front of your mouth feeling another cough coming. And once you’re done that little fit the clattering of a mug being placed in front of you reaches your ears. “Thank you, Lina” answering automatically before opening your eyes. 

To see the man pulling his hand away from the steaming mug. 

“You’re welcome.” A soft smile on his face and his voice makes something deep inside of you melt. Externally however you don’t let anything show, taking a small sip of your usual drink. 

Over breakfast, he introduced himself as Eriks and claimed he had no memory of his past before Lina found him. You highly doubted that, but the quick kick to your shin from under the table stopped you from saying anything. You were going to need to buy Lina less pointed boots in the future.  

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself watching his actions like a hawk, looking for any sign of ill intent toward your found little family. Instead, all you witnessed was a man who seemed almost as out of place as you did except he always seemed to wear a soft worn smile.

One night a little while later sitting there with Granny on the porch in her rocking chair and you on the hanging bench while Lina and Eriks were out in the field. The sound of laughter rang out from around the crops as the pair finished the evening chores with Eriks often stumbling as Lina pulled tricks on the older man. Granny spoke up. “Are you still as worried about him?”

Sighing, you adjust the way you’re sitting so you're leaning forward resting your elbows on your thighs, and watch the man. His hair has grown longer and while you keep getting the sense something isn’t quite right about him you can tell he can be trusted. “No. I guess not. He’s been a big help around here.” 

Letting out your own laugh when he trips over a rock landing face first in the dirt and dropping the basket filled with vegetables. “Well, when he’s not being a general nuisance” unaware of the shy smile growing on your face as the tall blond struggles to his feet dusting himself off before rounding up the fallen veggies.

“Hmmm,” Granny just hums, noticing the look on your face. A look she’s seen on Eriks once or twice in the time he’s been here when he’s been watching you as well. 

As time passed Sheryl was aware of the subtle shift in your attitude towards Eriks and his towards you. In the mornings when you weren’t up most of the night, your routine had slowly changed, from watching the twin suns rising in the sky by yourself on the porch to having company in the form of the blond. Now having soft conversations over what you needed to do during the day, sitting side by side on the hanging bench with low voices. Both were holding steaming mugs that the vapors curled up and around the two of you.

The older woman also noticed the smallest reaction each of you had to one another as whatever was between the two of you grew. Lingering touches that weren’t needed when passing items to one another, or taking longer than normal while doing the dishes to talk to one another. 

When you had a bit of a downturn with your health Sheryl wasn’t surprised at all as Eriks ensured you were wrapped in a blanket and fed you meals in your room. Honestly, the older woman found it all to be rather sweet. But in this moment watching the two of you hanging laundry after you had laughed at him almost falling on his face with the load of wet clothes she knew both of you needed a little push. 

Both of you would never act on your own and the old woman could see it as clearly as she saw the pink hue both of you would sport on occasion after your interactions. In fact, sometimes you muttered to the older woman it was because of the sun, not because of a certain long-haired man making you weak in the knees. 

And she was going to force the two of you to act and deliver that little push somehow. 

“Eriks at this point I’m not sure how you ever manage to get anything done, you’re so clumsy it’s almost funny.” Taking the basket from him to ensure none of the sheets fell to the ground to be covered in dirt and needing to be rewashed. 

“Just some bad luck I think.” Laughing along with you and helping you hang the clothes on the line to dry. “I’m not always that clumsy.” Holding one end of a bed sheet while you spread it out across the line and clip it in place.

“Sure, sir. Sure.” Letting your fingers linger over his briefly and feeling the heat from his skin warm your own digits. 

“Hey now, I’m really not that unlucky.” Working in tandem it doesn’t take either of you long to get the remaining laundry out on the line before Granny calls out to the two of you.

“Eriks!” Followed by the calling of your own name as you both turn towards the older woman hobbling towards you. 

“What’s wrong Granny?” 

“The pump seems to be out of water. Could I get the two of you to go into the well and see what might be going on?” Rubbing her hands together with a look of fear clear on her face. “That well is what allows us to live outside of town and look after ourselves. I hate to have to move because we’ve run out of water.” You catch the undercurrent in her words and you know better. Granny has spent her entire life on this little farm, raised her son here, and is now raising her granddaughter here. It’s not just the moving that she’s worried about, it's all the memories locked away in the floorboards of the house. The panels of the wall faded from the sun shining in through the thin windows. 

“Of course Granny!” Eriks is quick to answer, nodding as he walks to the porch to return the laundry hamper to the shade provided by it. 

“Hopefully it's something silly like the pipe for the pump having shifted out of the way.” Rolling your sleeves up and heading towards the opening of the well near the edge of the field just past where all your crops grew the house while still visible far enough away that you can’t see Granny on the porch and tossing the rope ladder down, pausing as Eriks places his palm over your shoulder.

“Let me go first.” Waving a small flashlight while you chuckle, Eriks tends to be more prepared than you. Or Granny for that manner. 

“Are you sure it’s not just so you can watch my butt when it comes down the ladder after you?” Teasing him you see the pink briefly flash across his face. 

“Hey now, we both know I’m not that kind of guy.” You might have believed him if not for the clear look of mischief in his eyes just visible behind the sunglasses slipping down his nose. 

“Whatever you say Eriks.” Motioning with your hand for him to take the lead and once he started you watched him go waiting for him to call back up to you that it was alright to come down behind him. 

Feeling the rough material under your hand woven from the hides of worms, it is a show of just how adaptable humanity has become in this new world. You never grew up with the benefit of a plant, your parents had been marauders and you had followed in their footsteps At least until you saw more of the light and you were glad Granny and her family didn’t have a plant either. It just seemed more at home to you living on the edge of a town and making your own way, it just felt right even if it wasn’t an easy life. 

In no time at all you see the bottom of the well, or at least the rock-strewn floor that brought you into the area of the well. Eriks stood to the side waving his flashlight around the open area and you feel your face warm wondering if he had been checking out your ass on your way down. 

It’s a little concerning as the soles of your feet land and you don’t hear even the softest splash. Following the beam of light with your own eyes as Eriks looks around the cavern that you know was dug out by Granny Sheryl’s own parents. “Do you know if water is supposed to be here?”

It’s a good question and in the shifting light, you see a brief gleam of metal pointing at it. “Oh, maybe that’s it!” Eriks just chuckles and your blush deepens since he wouldn’t have seen where you were pointing. 

“Where?” “There”

“Here?”

“No. Just” you don’t take the flashlight from him instead you grab his larger hand holding the light and guide it before settling on the metal you had seen. Sure enough part of a pipe is visible along the edge of the wall. 

“Ah, guess we go that way.” Except neither of you move, both of your gazes settling on your hand resting atop his now. The tips of your ears are burning as you pull it away and mutter a quick apology before Eriks leads the way. 

As you both walk you realize the pipe seems to be leading back towards the house and parts of it seem to be going deeper underground. “I wonder if there used to be more people living here after the crash.” You whisper missing the flinch of Eriks' shoulders at your pondering. 

“There might have been, water would have been important in the early days for those that survived.” Taking a turn you hear the sound of dripping, walking a little more along you can see where it looks like part of the cave wall has cracked.

“Maybe the wall coming down blocked part of the intake valve?” In the dim light of the flashlight, you turn to Eriks to see him nodding with your question. 

“It’s possible. Let's see if we can find it.” Using your ears it doesn’t take the two of you long to find where part of the pump is sitting just under the water and surrounded by a small landslide of stones. Stepping into the pool is out of the question but you find the rocks rather easy to move, and with Eriks placing the flashlight on the floor at an angle both of you make quick work moving the debris from the pump. 

Once part of it is visible beneath the water you watch as Eriks leans over more giving it a light tug and pulling it away revealing part of what you think might have been rubber that had been closed up. A few smacks and you let out a noise of appreciation as the pumps seem to whirl back to life and the rubber plumps up as it pulls the water along no doubt refilling the tanks you know are inside the house. 

“Well, that didn’t seem too bad.” Standing back up again and listening to the sound of Eriks' footsteps heading towards the flashlight. Briefly blinded as he picks it up once more as you make the mistake of looking at the object. Blinking quickly and hearing his deep chuckle before you feel his hand grip one of your smaller ones and place it inside the crook of his elbow. 

“I think this might be best until we can get somewhere a little brighter” leading you back down the path the two of you had followed. This close you can hear the sound of his breathing and what you think is the beating of his heart unsure why it would be racing. 

“Thank you, Eriks. I guess that was a little silly of me to be looking into the light.” As the two of you walk in companionable silence and your vision slowly comes back you release his arm even if your fingers feel a little colder without his lean bulk under them. “I wonder what caused those little rockslides.” 

A small noise as if thinking from the man before he speaks. “It could have been from a worm traveling nearby. Or maybe the water that fills the aquifer has been running in through a new path!” The sound of crunching then cracking reaches both of you before one moment you’re looking at the Eriks and the next a hole in the ground. 

“Eriks!” Darting forward as the blond disappears through the crack in the cave floor “Eriks answer me! Are you alright!” As silence rings out you bite your lip, at least before swallowing and jumping down after him, it might have only been a five-foot fall and you hear the sound of water splashing up around your feet. “Eriks!” Cupping the sides of your mouth as the panic starts to settle into your bones. Where is he?!

A groan reaches your ears and the sound of sloshing water a thin beam of light illuminating the cavern, water is reaching to the ankle of your boots and not far from you is Eriks lying on his back. Unsure how he got so far from the hole you had just jumped through. “Eriks!” 

Splashing through the water and rushing to his side as you drop to your knees beside him. Mouth suddenly dry as you take in his appearance. 

Eriks shirt.

Is soaked. 

The white rough fabric clings to his body like a second skin and the water has made it entirely translucent. Eriks has gone out of his way since his arrival to make sure you’ve never seen any part of him besides his hand and face even though you were aware of Granny helping to clean him that first day while you had been out and about working the field. 

Now you understand why. 

His upper chest is a mismatch of scars and metal bolts, some of those scars running deep through the muscles along his shoulder and pectoral muscles that you can see with the way he’s lying in the water. Other scars are smaller but you don’t miss the lines of the stitches that had been used to help his skin knit back together. Or the way the light is reflecting upwards through the water is setting a swirling pattern along his body and highlighting the stubble lining his chin.

“I’m alright.” Slowly sitting up and the water is pouring down his chest in rivets and any thoughts in your brain frizzled out. With the way his shirt is wrapped around his body, you can see the shifting of his abdomen and your mind is still spinning. Eriks is watching you in the dim light and the smile on his face is slowly falling away, seeing your blank stare, it didn't take long for him to figure out where you were looking. “I’m sorry you have to see this, I know I’m not much to look at.” 

The sound of despair lacing his voice makes your head snap upwards to stare into his eyes, seeing the fear swimming in his eyes behind those orange shades. Sighing as you reach up to remove them to look directly into his eyes. Seeing him blink rapidly as you pull them away. “Your eyes always look so sad, like you're carrying the weight of the world. I hate that you feel like you need to hide them behind those orange shades, they're so expressive. And such a pretty shade of blue." Folding his glasses together and reaching up to cup the side of his face the stubble prickling your palm. “I’d argue the body is very nice to look at. But I prefer the mind and heart inside of it.” 

The briefest chuckle from him. “Flattery doesn’t always get you anywhere.” While you had been so concerned with checking him over you hadn’t noticed just how close the two of you were, at least until you see his eyes flick down and following that line, you see there is barely an inch between either of your faces. 

“It isn’t flattery if it’s the truth.” Your voice is meek even to your own ears, almost like the tension between the two of you has come to a head. Both of you frozen for a moment, Eriks resting on his extended arms in the water and your chest hovering close enough that a deep breath would remove the space and a single hand on his face. His skin is warm and as you stare into his vivid eyes part of you whispers to be brave. 

Listening to that little voice you slam your eyes shut and close the distance, pressing your wind-split lips to his sun-chapped ones in the briefest pretense of a kiss before another voice is screaming at you to stop. Pulling back just as quickly. “I, I shouldn’t have done that.” You aren’t blind, or nearly as blind as Granny might think. You know there’s something between you and Eriks, but you also know nothing can come of it. You’re the only two near the same age, the attraction you feel is because of the close living proximity. Someone as kind and wholesome as Eriks can’t feel anything but friendship towards someone like you with your checkered past. Looking down with your eyes closed so you aren’t staring at his drenched body like it’s a feast. 

“I’m glad you did.” His voice is low and it makes you do a double take to look at him once more. “At least now I know it isn’t one-sided.” It’s him that moves this time closing the distance and engaging you in a searing kiss that you feel from your head down to your toes. The sound of sloshing echoes around the room and you understand why as one of his hands reaches out to cup your cheek before pulling back. “Or maybe I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“How could you say something like that?” Blurts out of your mouth before you can even think about your reaction to his words. “You shouldn’t feel anything for someone like me. I’m not a good person Eriks. Not like you.” It doesn’t make much of a difference as you close your eyes in the dim lighting but you don’t want to see the pity reflected in those orbs as dampness starts to form on your lashes. 

A few fat drops slide down your face before you feel his hand on the side of your face once more pulling you closer to him, the brush of his dry lips to your forehead as your name tumbles from the cracked skin like a prayer. “You have no idea how wrong you are. It’s me that isn’t a good person.” 

You can’t bear the dejection in his voice, opening your eyes to see his self-loathing floating there clear in the low light and it breaks your heart. Instead of speaking right away, you find both of your hands rising to grip his cheeks tenderly “Then maybe we should work on showing the other what they see because you’re wonderful Eriks.” The tears are still falling down your face as you press your lips to his and this time you don’t pull away, lips working in tandem as you both seem to pour your desperation and longing into the kiss. Hands moving as your bodies shift, Eriks sitting up straighter in the water and pulling you into his lap chests tight together as his hands grope at your ass, his tongue slipping from the confines of his mouth to lap at your dry lips. 

A low whine in your throat as you open your mouth and let your tongue race past your lips to brush his. It’s sloppy and messy as the drool lacing both of your mouth swaps and drips down your chin but you couldn’t care less, desperate to keep tasting the sweetness of his sorrow as you take comfort in one another. Your hips shifting so you’re seated better in his lap, straddling him with your hips rolling against his and your hands in his hair now. Nails dragging against his scalp as he chases your mouth wanting that same burning connection as you. The slow roll of your hips has your core rubbing against his tented pants his growing hardness making you pant and Eriks lifts you away, his chest heaving as much as yours. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Whispered against the point of your chin as Eriks starts to blaze a trail with his lips along your skin and to your neck. Lapping at the soft skin and placing gentle kisses along the curve of your throat. “Or the things I want to do to you.” A small noise catches inside of you at the low growl that seems to reverberate along your skin and you find your hips trying to grind against his tight pants wanting the friction you know it can provide while your cunt throbs. 

“Eriks.” A fistful of his hair in one hand while you try and pull him away from your neck wanting to reconnect to his lips while his cock twitches in his pants, your voice desperate as you let all of your pent-up attraction for the handsome man that you had been bottling up out. 

“Easy, sweetness. I’ll help you.” One of his hands gives your butt another squeeze before those long digits drag along the meat of your leg and across your thigh and over your covered core. Kissing at your pulse and those dexterous fingers work the band of your pants loose and slip down all while his other hand keeps you in place so you're rubbing against his clothed dick just the way he wants you. The more he seems to work your body the more lost in your senses you become, your fingers growing lax in his hair and on his shoulder, no longer leaving bruises you weren’t aware of. 

All thought leaves you as the rough pad of his fingers starts to rub at your clit through your underwear while his cock twitches against the fabric of his pants like mad and you’re a mewling, desperate mess trying to grind harder down onto his length your body moving on its own whims trying to chase that high. “You’re so wet like you’ve thought about me before. Tell me, sweetness, have you used your fingers to get yourself off before pretending they were mine?” 

You vaguely hear his words and whine before moaning a “yes” in his ear, not sure what he’s asking you but he seems happy with the answer as he presses harder against your clit. Two wide fingers work in tandem to brush the bundle of swollen nerves, while Eriks looks up at you feeling his sex pulse within the confines of his pants. He knows you have, he could hear the squelching of your sex as your fingers plunged into your body and the lowest whimper of his name. Before today and that brief kiss you initiated he knew you were attracted to him, perhaps almost as much as he was attracted to you but he never intended to do anything with the information. Not even touching himself to your sweet sounds through the shared wall of your rooms, but now? Right now he wanted to watch you come from his fingers on your core, he wanted to see you as your face loosened in ecstasy and your muscles relaxed to let so much of that tension you held in free. All for him. Because of him. 

“Almost there, sweetness.” Adding the pressure his fingers have against your clit and letting your weight rest on his crotch again, enjoying the feeling as your hips start to roll faster, more whines and pants from your slightly parted lips. A brief chuckle as he realizes you're already lost in the bliss he’s bringing your body as you respond to more primal impulses chasing that building release. Without removing either hand from your body he shifts you again, so his lips are on yours as his fingers work to pull that invisible thread tighter and tighter. His tongue roams around your mouth as he maps the wet cavern, the wet muscle moving in time with his fingers. 

Your hips are jerking against his now, growing more and more desperate as he pulls his lips away. Watching the thin clear lines connecting you spread and break hitting your lips, twisting his hand in your pants, and giving your clit a pinch. A wordless scream as you come for him, and Eriks enjoys watching your face grow lax as your back arches first before slumping against his form. “Such a good girl.” Kissing your temple as he rubs at your clit for a few more seconds to drag out your release while you shudder in his grasp. 

Fingers pulled from your pants and raised to his lips, humming as he tastes you on the digits and feels his member throb. He knows what it wants and he’s going to deny it, far more interested in your pleasure than his own. Hand clean of your juices he switches to rubbing your sides, waiting for you to come back to yourself. The seed of doubt in his mind how you would react to seeing his more unique features if the two of you keep going and exploring these budding feelings for each other.

A gentle moan as you open your eyes, blinking slowly as you see the nearly translucent shirt under your cheek. “Feeling alright?” Eyes roaming upwards to see Eriks looking down at you with a tender smile in place, his hands smoothing down your sides.

“Um. Yea.” Feeling a flush rushing up your cheeks as you take in the way you’re draped against his form. Well, and the firmness you can feel between your legs. “That. That was amazing.” Brushing some of your hair from your face as you bite your lip. “Can I. Can I return the favor?” You aren’t sure where this shyness you felt came from seeing as he just made you come the hardest you have in your entire life and he did it with his fingers and grinding. 

“No. We need to get out of here.” Something on your face must show your dejection as he kisses the space between your brow. “You’re shivering sweetness, we need to get you out of the water and into some dry clothes.” Blinking you remember what happened and feel the cold wetness that seeped into your pants and up your legs, just how lost in your senses had you been to miss that? 

“Right. Sorry!” Scrambling to crawl out of his lap while standing and feeling the shame starting to flood your system. You just came on top of him and he didn’t get anything out of the encounter, you’re still just a selfish ex-bandit. 

The sound of water and drenched fabric reaches your ears as Eriks stands, grabbing one of your hands and lifting it to kiss your knuckles. “It’s alright sweetness.” His blue eyes are soft and gentle as he stares at you before letting go of your hand and scooping the forgotten flashlight up from the water. “Next time we can keep going and I’ll truly show you how I feel.” 

Granny for her part wasn’t worried, sitting on the deck with her knitting between her fingers and watching the entrance to the well. The sound of the pump had started up some time ago, which meant you and Eriks were taking your time coming back. 

“Granny?” Lina asked stepping out into the heat outside of the house. A hum answered her question. “Shouldn’t they be back by now?” 

“Oh, I’m certain they’ll be out when they’re ready Lina. Don’t you worry about that, now get back to your chores while I wait for them.” The glint of sunlight on her glasses hid her eyes, otherwise Lina might have seen the mischief there. After all, Sheryl didn’t need her granddaughter to see the two of you coming out looking like you had sex since you both needed a push to act on the feelings she saw brewing between you.

At least she was hoping that was what was delaying the two of you and that you hadn’t gotten lost down in the mess of tunnels. 

Well I hope you enjoyed this, no idea when I'll update the next chapter, but I'll link it when I do.

#trigun eriks x reader #trigun smut #trimax #Trimax smut #trigun maximum smut #trigun maximum #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x reader smut #vash the stampede smut #trigun eriks

[teyamsatan]

Midnight Rain II

Lo'ak x Omatikaya!reader

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,2k words

Notes: i apologise for the enormous wait and thank you for being so patient with me, but i needed inspiration for this, and now I have it besties, and this will end up being three parts! enjoy x

Na'vi words used: ma 'ite - daughter; sa'nok - mother

previous part (x)

It came like a postcard, picture perfect, shiny family, holiday, peppermint candy

But for him it's every day, so I peered through a window, a deep portal, time travel

All the love we unravel, and the life I gave away

“Do you think you’ll ever want to settle down?” Lo’ak was staring far into the distance, and you ceased to follow suit at his words, your head snapping in his direction and taking in his beautiful features, his shaved head, only on one side - your doing, but he did lose a bet, so he couldn’t complain too much about it.

You looked at his eyes, that were flickering momentarily in your direction, noticing you in his periphery, trying to make it inconspicuous that he was not as nonchalant about the topic as he may appear at first glance. You looked at his ears, twitching in anticipation and his chest, that was expanding and dropping at a higher rate than what you knew it normally did, and at his skin that was glowing a little more intensely that it should as the sun hit it, probably due to the sheen layer of sweat now covering it.

You smiled a little at his nervousness, at his inability to just get it out, whatever it was that bothered him, that was on his mind - never honest, never direct, always trying to appear less interested, less invested, less caring than he actually was. In reality, Lo’ak was one of the most sensitive people you knew. Everything got to him, everything bothered him, because he cared. He cared and wanted people to care just as much as he did, deep down inside.

You turned your face to look at whatever it was he was looking at. It was beautiful, this place you found together, riding west 'til your ikran was so tired they were squeaking in pain, and you knew it was time to settle in for the night, at the edge of a cliff overlooking a long, noisy waterfall, with birds flying above the river it crashed into and hunting for some dinner. You hunted your own, which was now cooking on a fire, while you watched the sun set over the mountains. 

“Mm, I don’t know. Seems a bit boring and dooming, don’t you think?” You tried to hide the smirk in your tone. You needed to make him say what he wanted to say, and the only way to do that was to get him angry and frustrated. It was a painful method, but it always worked with Lo’ak. 

“Why would it be dooming?” His voice increased in pitch, and he coughed in an attempt to hide it. It was working. 

“I don’t know… the thought of spending your whole life with just one person, in just one place, doing the same few things everyday… that’s what being doomed looks like to me.” 

Lo’ak scoffed and turned around, fully facing you, his knee brushing up against your thigh. 

“You think finding your soulmate, finding someone to love and who would love you forever, unconditionally, regardless of how badly you fuck up, how messed up you are inside is dooming? You think the idea of belonging just to one person so fucking inconceivable?” 

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that blew past your lips and the way your body moved on its own and tackled your annoying, frustrating boyfriend, who could only be persuaded to confess through deceit and manipulation. Your body felt alive on top of his, like it belonged on him, with him, and you eyed him amusedly, watching as his frown dissipated, if only slightly. Your hand found his forehead, that it smoothed, and his eyes softened as they found yours, and knew he had been played. 

“You suck.” You laughed harder, throwing your head back, letting your braids tickle his neck and chin, and for the first time in your life, you were left breathless by a boy, by a pair of lips as they crashed into yours, by the promise of what they entailed, that you were scared of but wanted to know, wanted to experience for yourself, with him and only him.

It was fun and games - you and him. It always had been, since you were young. You were wild and he loved the thrill of being in your presence, loved being liberated. You laughed and you joked together, you found unspoken-for places in the world and untapped potentials in yourselves. Lo’ak was the outcast to everyone else, the untamed one in the eyes of the world, but to you, he was what grounded you, and you were what freed him. When you kissed him for the first time, a few months ago, you did it because you wanted to. You did because you were curious to know, you did it just to do it. Because you liked him, and you knew he loved you. But somehow, this guy you’ve known all your life managed to turn it around, managed to make you fall in love - make you into something you thought would shackle you, would ruin you, but now, as it happened, you didn’t feel any of those things. You just felt warm. 

“So, would you ever want to settle down?” 

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. As long as it’s with you.” 

“Are you listening?” 

The little tap in your shoulder, combined with the words you didn’t expect to hear pulled you out of a dream, a memory, one far away now, too far to reach, evoking feelings in you never to be felt again. Because the feelings, and the memories, all had one common denominator - the boy you loved, that you gave up, whose heart you shattered, whose heart you craved more and more each day. 

"Yes. Sorry, Tarsem. Yes, we can do that tomorrow. I'll be here first thing, if that's alright with you."

"That's more than alright with me. You're my best warrior, it has to be."

You smiled gently at your new Olo'eyktan. He wasn't new, not anymore. But after 18 years of knowing just one person fulfil the role, it would take a long time for Tarsem to earn his stripes enough for Jake Sully to be replaced in your mind.

You bid him goodbye with a smile and a gestured "I see you", and left the tent without another word. You were surprised to see Mo'at at the entrance, but still, you greeted her warmly. You loved Mo'at. She was like a mother to you... or grandmother, but she hated feeling old, so you always called her sa'nok. You also called Neytiri sa'nok, so it got confusing sometimes.

"Ma' ite, are you finished with the Olo'eyktan?"

"Yes, sa'nok. He's free for you, if you wish."

"Actually, I wanted to speak to you."

You frowned a little at the confession. Mo'at never sought you out personally. She never had to. Especially since the Sullys left, she was the only family you had left... the only family she had left. You spent most of your free time with her, and so this rose suspicion in your mind and your heart rate in your chest.

"Is something wrong, ma sa'nok?"

She giggled at your troubled disposition.

"Does anything have to be wrong for me to want to talk to my erratic, harebrained... brave daughter?"

You rolled your eyes, but joined her in her laughter.

"No, but I was coming by your tent tonight anyway, so the fact that you came for me might mean there's something urgent."

"Come, help me back. I'm an old woman, you need to respect your elders, young lady."

"Yes, ma. So what is it?" It was nice and comfortable being with Mo'at. She has known you all your life, and somehow still loved you, and accepted you as one of her own after your parents both died - your dad in the war against the Sky People, your mother giving birth to you. She used to tell you were just like her, a maverick, a nightcrawler, a free spirit with little moral compass to point her North, at least until she met your father.

"Ma 'ite... are you happy?" It took a while for you to fall into step with her again after that, your body almost short-circuiting at her question. You had no problem lying, not only that - you were good at it. But not to her. You owed her too much. You frowned as you answered.

"I'm... happy to be able to help, sa'nok. Happy to fight the good fight, happy to be able to take care of you, and the clan."

"It's bad manners to lie to the people you love."

"I'm not ly-"

"You are. That much is clear. You haven't gone exploring in months. You. The most restless person I've ever had the misfortune to have under my care."

"It's been hard, sa'nok. The Sky Peo-"

"Never stopped you before."

There was a reason Mo'at was Tsa'hik. A reason she was the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya, a reason she was still here while so many others weren't.

"I'm sure he misses you too." she smiled slyly as you reached the tent and she turned around, taking your hands into hers. "No adventure is worth taking without the one that made it worthwhile to begin with, is it?"

You had no words to that, but the tears falling silently down your face were enough to say everything you couldn't, not out loud.

"I heard the weather's really nice in Awa'atlu this time of year. I don't think you've ever been, right? Maybe that should change."

Your mouth opened in shock at her words, at the blessing that you think you needed to hear, at a sign that maybe, despite all the heartbreak you left in your wake, there was still a chance for you to see him, a chance to try to see if a life with less freedom was still freeing in itself just by his presence alone, and a life with less to see was still everything because the world was in his eyes.

"Go. I'll talk to Tarsem tomorrow."

Your heart was thumping in your chest so hard, it felt like it was trying to break through your ribcage and escape, just so it could reach him faster than the rest of your body possibly ever could. But nevertheless, you got on your ikran in the dead of night and left, and you knew by the morning, everything would be different. Because it was clear now, as much as it needed to be, that just as Mo'at said, what always made your life fun wasn't the adventures, and the freedom, and the recklessness, it was who you shared them with. And you didn't know what would happen tomorrow, or what you would find, but you needed him to know, that despite how stupid you had been, that you loved him, and you wanted him to show you the life you never thought you wanted, but now couldn't fathom living without.

It was near midday when Awa'atlu came in sight, the farthest you have ever made it East. It was beautiful and lively, and despite the nerves, you couldn't help picturing your life in it. A horn made your presence known to the clan, and you saw people gathering on a wide patch of golden sand where you presumed you should be able to land. A few navy blue Na'vi brought a smile to your face and booming in your ears, and you knew you were in the right spot when you spotted Tuk jumping in the air, screaming at your sight.

Although a short reunion, it was not without its flagrant emotions and unstoppable tears. Your family was here, and although Lo'ak wasn't, it was happiness personified and you don't remember the last time you felt so much, so deeply.

"He usually takes a walk on the beach east of the village. If you just walk around, you'll definitely spot him." Kiri said, a knowing glimmer in her eye. "We all know that's what you're here. Come on, scat. He's been sulking for too long." You kissed them all on the cheek, hugging your sister and took off, excitement bubbling within you.

He was easy enough to spot, alone on the beach, his azure back to you and his hair that was now tied behind his back blowing gently with the breeze. You spotted the hair tie and realise with a pang of hurt that you didn't recognise it. You knew it was irrational. Of course he was going to get new adornments in the time you were apart. And yet still, it was just a bitter reminder of the time you lost, of the memories you could have been making together, that were now just ashes in the wind.

His name got stuck in your throat as you tried to push it out when you realised he was not alone. In front of him, hidden from your initial inspection stood a girl, turquoise-skinned, petite and gentle, with enough love and affection in her eyes to blind you, to wish it had. Because if it had, you might have missed the kiss, the laughter booming in his chest, his hands reaching to caress her cheek, your hopes shattering in a million pieces.

I guess, sometimes we all get, just what we wanted, just what we wanted

And he never thinks of me, except when I'm on tv

taglist: strawberryclouds22 @leoloeleosworld @fanboyluvr

#lo'ak fanfiction #lo'ak x omatikaya!reader #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #lo'ak #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar twow #atwow #avatar loak #avatar fanfiction #avatar fanfic #loak fanfiction #loak angst #atwow loak #loak sully #lo'ak sully

[foxgangfoxgang]

It hurts so much to love you (Yandere!Hanahaki Disease! Yeonjun x Reader)

It hurts...it really hurts...it feels like his lungs are on fire, he can barely breathe, every other breathe he takes he coughs up bloody white rose petals, your favorite flower. Yeonjun hunches over the sink as he hacks up more bloody petals, how long has it been a week or two, usually the symptoms come in slower but in Yeonjun’s case, they’re coming faster and faster. 

How did this all start how could he be so careless to not notice this disease much earlier...You, this all started with you. Your pretty smile and eyes, the way you giggle and laugh, your smooth smooth skin, your amazing personality. You were a trainee at HYBE getting ready to debut in a new girl group, Yeonjun had known of your existence for some time but meeting you...oh meeting you was a whole new experience, then it started.

It was the fever first, Yeonjun thought it was from overworking himself and his body telling him to stop for a moment, the next day he felt fine. Then the loss of appetite, he was always one to make sure people ate so it was ironic that he suddenly wasn’t eating so much, you had even taken notice at his weight loss. You would sneak snacks to him in passing, you were so kind and generous. Next came the shaking, this really was where he noticed something was wrong, Yeonjun was put to bed rest for the time being, however the disease grew worse. His body temp was dropping to an alarming rate, the staff had to take him to the hospital where they x-ray him. That’s where he saw it, it was small but noticeable, a flower in his lungs...but how? 

The doctor would inform Yeonjun that he had Hanahaki disease, Yeonjun was confused to be fair, this wasn’t a disease he’s ever heard of, then once it was explained to him it slowly made sense. Now here we are in Txt’s dorm where Yeonjun is stuck vomiting flower petals, it hurts so much...it’s getting worse day by day. 

Yeonjun was given the option to have the flower surgically removed, but that meant he could no longer love romantically. The only other option was for you to love him back. Yeonjun looked at himself in the mirror his mouth covered in his own blood a petal stuck to his cheek, his eyes watery and red, his nose red, he looked horrible. Yet there you stood just behind him as beautiful as ever, your small hand feeling and rubbing on his back as you soothe him, it was comforting, it was soothing, it was burning, it was starting to hurt, it’s becoming more and more painful, it’s agony. Yeonjun hunched over the toilet to vomit more bloody petals. Hallucinations were another symptom, Yeonjun wiped his mouth and stood up. 

He doesn’t want the surgery...so the only other option is for you to love him. Yeonjun cleaned himself up, he made his way to the company and looked for you, of course you were in the dance studio. Yeonjun smiled as he watched you dance to the music, the way you follow the music with your body, the smile on your face. Yeonjun was about to enter when another male trainee came into view, he walked up to you smiling as he placed his hands on your waist. The trainee pulled you in close as he kissed you on the lips. 

Time slowed down for Yeonjun as he watched with a broken heart at the display. The idol suddenly hacked up more petals, his lungs begging for air, Yeonjun was running out of time, he was going to die if he didn’t cure this stupid disease. Yeonjun felt tears prick his eyes as he fled from the scene and into a quiet area where he quietly sobbed. How could you do this to him, how could you betray him, he was in love with you. Do you not love him back? No...you have to love him back, you were so nice to him, you showed to care for him, is that not love? Yeonjun sniffled as he let his emotions set, if you don’t love him...he’ll make you love him. 

It would take longer than Yeonjun would have liked but he set his plan into motion. It was easy to lure that douche trainee to the top floor and a little shove was all it took to send him to his early grave. It would be plastered all over the news of a trainee’s suicide, with all the bad press Hybe decided to hold your debut till everything was cleared up...who knew how long that would take. Yeonjun would become your night in shining armor as you mourned you lover’s death. He was there for you from morning to night, he really was a great friend. You would join Yeonjun for a night walk at the park, it was empty at this time of hour but the stars were beautiful. Yeonjun would be coughing constantly which worried you, you’d ask if he was ok and then you’d see it, a bloody white petal in his hand, blood dripping from his mouth, his ragged breathing. 

Yeonjun turned to you his body towering over you as he smiled the blood noticeable on his teeth, he’d begin to rant about how he’s sick with this hanahaki disease and you were the reason for it, he’d ramble about how much pain he was in, each passing day becoming harder and harder to bear. “I could get surgery, but I wouldn’t be able to love romantically ever again...I don’t want that, so instead you’re gonna love me...just how I love you, you made me sick....so you’ll make me better” 

#txt yandere #yandere txt #txt #kpop yandere #yandere #yeonjun #yandere yeonjun #hanahaki disease

[existslikepristin]

This is completely unrelated to the fic I was working on last week, and also unrelated to... anything else I've ever written. It was almost just a joke between me and @buddysmut ... but then I wrote more than I thought I would (buddysmut has 100% permission to steal this and any concepts/phrases/etc in this due to basically suggesting it, btw). This is 0% effort, 0% editing, and 0% giving a shit. So, enjoy?

Tags: Gfriend, Sowon, another "anonymous" character, trashy porn script, TECHNICALLY no smut despite deepthroat and titty play... nah saying it isn't smut feels like the wrong call to make for legal reasons, this is very bad smut

Sowon sat on her grubby couch, reading the only script her agency could get her. "What the fuck? Dammit, I can't do this! This is... Dammit!"

Open scene on Sowon in security line at an airport.

[Officer] "Ma'am, please lift your arms above your head."

[Sowon] Complies. Her cropped tank top is short enough that the action reveals her areola. Linger on underboob shot as Officer slowly demands for Sowon's name and bra size.

[Officer] "Ma'am, you're going to need to come with me to the pat down inspection area."

[Officer] Roughly grabs Sowon by the arm to drag her to an open area, within full view of the rest of the security line. Informs the crowd that they will need to wait for the inspection before proceeding.

[Officer] "Ma'am, are you carrying any weapons?"

[Sowon] "No, officer! I promise!"

[Sowon] Squeezes boobs defensively.

[Officer] "Don't lie to me, bitch! These are too big to be natural!"

[Officer] Pulls Sowon's hands away. Angrily gropes Sowon's boobs. Linger on groping shot.

"What the fuck?! They can't even follow a logical plot... Why do I care?!"

[Officer] Pats Sowon down very slowly.

[Note] Jiggle boobs as much as possible.

[Officer] "We'll need to strip search you. Remove your top, bitch!"

[Sowon] Complies.

[Note] Squeeze boobs with tank top while removing. Allow to drop and bounce.

[Officer] Lifts, separates, bounces Sowon's boobs. Linger on all shots.

[Note] Crowd extras are taking pictures in the background.

[Officer] "Impossible! These feel natural! I'll need to taste them to make sure."

[Officer] Licks, sucks Sowon's boobs. Linger on all shots.

"If they want to linger on every shot, why do they need to keep saying it?! Fucking idiot perverts!"

[Sowon] "Officer, please! I promise I don't have any weapons!"

[Officer] "Don't talk back, bitch! What are you? Drunk? High?"

[Sowon] "No!"

[Officer] Covers Sowon's mouth.

[Officer] "I said not to talk back, whore! Get on your knees for a breathalyzer test!"

[Sowon] Complies.

[Officer] Presses dildo to Sowon's lips.

[Note] Do not use the small dildo again. Ratings fell dramatically last time. Dildo must be thirty centimeters long to leave room for handling, flexible, and at minimum four centimeters in girth.

[Officer] "Open wide!"

[Sowon] Complies hesitantly.

[Officer] Inserts dildo until visible through Sowon's neck.

[Sowon] Gags.

Sowon held a hand over throat, gulping with fear. "No... no way..."

[Officer] Thrusts dildo for a few seconds at a time, occasionally releasing so that Sowon may cough throat slime onto her boobs. Spreads throat slime over Sowon's boobs.

[Officer] "I can't get a good reading if you resist, slut! Comply with my instructions!"

[Sowon] Masturbates with a hand in her shorts.

"That... Nothing like that was in the contract!" Sowon threw the script onto the couch. Her phone buzzed insistently.

"What do you want?!" she shouted into the microphone at her agent.

"Where the hell are you?!" came the equally emphatic response, "Filming starts in half an hour, and you need makeup, now!"

"Half an...! The shoot isn't until Friday!"

"Exactly! What day do you think it is? Get down here now! If you're late, I'm not sucking off the director for you again! You're doing it!"

Sowon hung up and sprung off the couch, rushing downstairs and onto the street. She caught a taxi and was on her way. Timing was tight, but if the makeup artists were fast, she'd be good. She shuddered to imagine what her members would think of her if they knew she was taking a trashy porno gig to make ends meet. Her phone buzzed again, briefly this time.

A group text from Yerin to all of the members, along with a picture. It was a selfie, with Yerin dressed up as an airport security officer, winking into the camera, on a set Sowon had seen very, very recently.

got an acting gig baby! dunno who my costar is gonna be but i get to pump her up if you know what im sayin!

Sowon buried her face in her hands, suddenly feeling sick. "Shit..."

#gfriend smut #sowon #kpop smut #fanfic

[beetleviolet]

ROTTMNT NEWSIES AU - Characters and plot

Characters:

Leo - Jack Kelly

Raph - Crutchie

Casey - Davey

Mikey - Les (kind of?)

Donnie - Spot Collins

April - Katherine Pullizer

Big Mama - Snyder (the spider)

Ms. Medda - Senor Hueso

Krang Prime - Joe Pullizer

Warning: the following explanations are wildly out of order with large variations of detail

Leo is the obvious choice for Jack Kelly, both being angsty tenor protagonists and all, but I also think about it in the way they both so clearly want something. For Jack its Sante Fe, a place he's romanticized into this perfect world away from all of his hardships. Leo in the ROTTMNT movie is desperately hanging onto the past. Before he became leader, before the Shredder, maybe even before they became heros. He wants everything to go back to the way it was, where they could just go in, smash, get out and then grab pizza on the way home. But as things got more serious, this became unrealistic.

Raph serves as the role for Crutchie, more specifically he is taken to the refuge after they try and stop the wagons. This scene is what inspired everything. Maybe someone fucks up his eye with a police baton or something. This is what leads Leo to sing Sante Fe and then give up in the second act.

As for the earlier characters, Casey Junior is Davie. He just moved to NYC from another town where the job he had (tbd) had a union (cough rebellion cough) so he knows a lot about how to rally a group, just lacks the confidence. Originally I was going to have Donnie play this role... but I wanted to include CJJ somehow and I thought Don would be a perfect Spot Collins lmao, he definitely can be scary enough. Also I feel like Casey and Leo's talk in the collapsed subway station can parallel Jack and Davie in Medda's theater in the second act.

April O'Neil is a no brainer for Katherine, except I'm dropping the romance sub plot because I don't really like writing romance and even beyond the turtle human situation I just don't think that April and Leo would like eachother like that, you know? Also I feel like Katherine and April have some of the same spunk. They are also both witty so writing an April and Leo argument in this context would be so fun.

April is following the story and grows fond of the newsies and the Hamatos. Her pen name is April O'Neil, and I'm debating whether or not I keep Pullizer as her dad because Pullizer is Krang Prime and that makes absolutely no sense.

Mikey is still brothers with Leo and Raph, but he serves as Les for the cute little brother laughs and he convinces them to help out Casey, saying he won't help sell papers unless Leo takes Casey under his wing.

The newsies work for the Krang's newspaper business, but uhhh i have no ideas for clever names similar to The New York World but alien style. The New York Dimension???

Big Mama is Snyder because, you know, Snyder the spider. Her "refuge" hosts an underground child fighting ring. It sucks. Leo has escaped there in the past when he outsmarted her, and she hates him for it and is constantly after him. Leo takes refuge (hehe) in Señor Hueso's resturaunt, which he makes up for by waiting tables. April is there rating food and service, and Hueso warns Leo not to give her a bad impression. This is when they first meet. Hueso's is also where the Newsies gather in I'm The King of New York and other scenes. The glasses of water scene would be hilarious.

So uhhh yeah. In conclusion hyperfixation + other hyperfixation = WOAHHH THATS SO FIRE.

#rottmnt #tmnt newsies au #rottmnt newsies au #tmnt #save rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #newsies #newsies the musical #au #teenage mutant newsie turtles

[sirowsky-stories]

The Haunted Toaster

Sirowsky's 600 & 700 Followers Celebration

Submitted by @myloveistoolittle Prompt #5: Why are you covered in sparkly pink dust? Prompt #18: What happened to the toaster? Character: Javier Gutierrez

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Javier Gutierrez x Gender Neutral Reader. Established relationship. The toaster might really be haunted. Implied smut. Word Count: 660 Masterlist of the Celebration Sirowsky's Main Masterlist

   He looks quite adorable when he whirls around, startled by your presence since he clearly hasn’t heard you arrive, and the motion sends glitter flying all over the kitchen.    You’d thought that he’d heard the front door open and close, so you’re equally startled by his reaction, momentarily freezing right in the middle of putting your bag down on top of the dishwasher.

   “Javi… why are you covered in sparkly pink dust?” you ask, unsure of where else to begin with the scene before you.

   “I was trying an experiment,” he says, before realizing that he’s holding the plug of the toaster up beside him, and quickly shifts both arms to hide behind his back instead. “It… maybe didn’t go as planned.”

   “Maybe?” you question, but you can’t help but smile because he’s just too sweet. “What happened to the toaster?”

   You try to peek behind him, but he sidesteps to block your view, so you stop and raise your eyebrows at him while dipping your chin in a silent challenge for the truth, and he immediately caves.

   “I don’t know what happened, amor! The man in the video just poured the glitter into the toaster and turned it on, and then when it popped up it was like a little rainbow, it was so cute! And I knew you would love it, so I got all the stuff, but when I tried…”

   He lets go of the plug and moves away so that you can see the damage, and oh golly.

   “It looks like the whole thing imploded. Are you sure that it wasn’t radioactive dust you used?” you question, and he brings you the bag that it had been sold in.

   “See, it says that it’s heat safe, will not melt even in the highest oven temperatures. I don’t underst-…”

   He’s cut off by the sound of the toaster suddenly creaking ominously, and you both take a quick step back.

   “Do you think it’s haunted?” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from the side, but you get the feeling that it’s more to comfort himself rather than you.

   “Why would anything haunt a toaster?” you retort, but right then, the damned thing seems to cough and more glitter whirls into the air before landing on the counter.

   You wrap your arms around his waist now too, and together the two of you back away further, slowly heading out of the kitchen.    But when it hops, all on its own, three inches forwards on the counter, you both scream and leg it, running for the bedroom where you close and lock the door.

   “This is ridiculous,” you chuckle at yourself after you’ve both been standing pressed against the door for a while, trying to hear if it’s still moving.

   “It fucking moved!” he growls, while you step away and lay down on the bed.

   “It was probably just the metal cooling.”

   “Then why did you run?” he challenges, crossing his arms over his chest, and you have to stifle a laugh because he still looks so cute with all that pink glitter in his hair, on his face and all over his shirt.

   “Because it’s Halloween, and we’re all in spooky mode.”

   “I’m not. I was trying to prepare a cute surprise, not something spooky,” he says, and he looks genuinely sad that he didn’t get to surprise you with the sparkly rainbow.

   “Javi… you’re covered in glitter standing at the foot of our bed. If you wanna give me something cute, just take off your clothes and let me have you.”

   He likes that. Enough that he forgets all about haunted toasters and failed experiments, shedding his clothes in record time before jumping up onto the bed and preceding to shake all the loose dust off himself and down onto you, making you giggle at his playfulness, before he drops to his knees and settles in between your legs.

   “Just tell me where you want me, amor.”

THE END

Thank you so much, Casey! This one was terrific fun to write and hopefully also fun to read :D

@pedrostories @harriedandharassed

#Sirowsky's 600 & 700 Followers Celebration #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #javi gutierrez fanfiction #javi gutierrez x gender neutral reader #javi gutierrez x reader #tuwomt fanfiction #halloween writing #halloween fic #spooky season fic #spooky season #sirowsky stories