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rking200 · 21 days

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Stratford Handoff

Simon is tasked with bringing Markus the uniform he needed during the Stratford Tower raid. They overlooked the option of hiding the uniform with the help of the ceiling tiles, so Simon stands in a closed stall and awaits Markus' tap at the door, a neatly-folded uniform in his hands.

2.5k words, chapter one of a three chapter SimonxMarkus angst/hurt-comfort/R18 fic. Nothing R18 happens in this chapter, just a bit of kissing and making out. Angst will be next chapter, then hurt-comfort into R18 for the last. Will be posted to AO3 upon completion.

The plan made perfect sense, and while carrying it out had been no easy task for Simon, he did appreciate knowing how much Markus trusted him. Markus blending in as a working android was such an integral part of the plan and the uniform pristinely folded in Simon's hands hadn't wound up there by pure chance. Part of Simon believed that he was seen as expendable by Markus--that he had seen merit in North and Josh and was worried about putting their lives in danger for the plan, while it might be worth it for Simon's life to be lost for their cause. Of course he tried not to heed the dark whispers, but they were there nonetheless. Simon's eyes darted to the stall door handle in front of him at the sound of the main door opening, but was able to relax when he heard another stall open and close. He shifted his weight and begged his hands not to wrinkle the uniform as he gripped it, closing his eyes and pushing his dark whispers and his anxieties out of his head for a few brief moments of respite: standby.

Simon was quick to move when he heard the gentle rhythmic tap of Markus' knuckle against the stall door. Quiet enough to not alert any human in the bathroom, but loud enough to give Simon's thirium pump a start. Flicking the lock open, Simon shifted aside to allow Markus to enter and lock the door back behind him. Because he had been the first to leave Jericho to start putting their plan in motion, Simon had yet to see Markus all dressed up in his suit. He really wore it well, and passed for a human perfectly. 「Simon?」

Simon pursed his lips at Markus' voice in his head, shaking his head and closing his eyes tight in order to focus them again. 「Sorry, Markus.」 His hands quivered slightly as he loosened his grip, allowing Markus to take the clothes from him. 「That suits you.」 Markus' perplexed look sent Simon slightly on edge. He hadn't meant to think that thought loud enough for it to connect with Markus, but there was no doubt that Markus had heard it. He let out a quiet yet audible chuckle, his eyes trained on Simon as his hands fumbled with his tie.

「Was...was that a pun? You didn't seem like the type, Simon.」

Simon blinked a few times, and his LED must have turned yellow because Markus' playful eyes darted over to Simon's temple. Ever since he fell into Jericho's hull, Markus had a permanently planted serious expression, and this was the first time he saw his brow relaxed, his eyes sparkle, and his lips parted in a smile. With a few more blinks, Simon tilted his head to the side, looking down to both physically remove his gaze from Markus' kind eyes and parted lips, and to blatantly put his stress on display by fully showing his blinking, yellow LED. He shifted his jaw as he searched for the words that he could not find.

「Relax.」 Markus took a step towards Simon, who couldn't help but take a half step back. His eyes were gentle but stared at him with the intensity of their cause shining through. He reached out and planted his hands firmly on either of Simon's shoulders. 「The plan is airtight. There's nothing to worry about. We get up there, send out our message and leave as quickly as we can. We've got this.」

Simon's eyes moved between Markus', and he let out a shaky, held breath. 「I know. We've got this.」 Markus offered a gentle smile before moving away. Simon watched him fumble with his tie a moment longer before moving forward, holding his breath once again and gently pressing his fingertips between the layers of fabric, unknotting it. 「First time?」

「My owner never wore ties. Josh, uh, Josh helped me tie it.」 Simon thought that was rather nice of Josh, but he'd be lying if he said the image of Josh stooping down to help a struggling Markus wasn't a funny one. He'd have to remember to ask him about it when they got back to Jericho. Simon didn't have a chance to step away from Markus before he started unbuttoning his white shirt. Simon's hands had barely let the two ends of the tie go before Markus pulled at his vest and shrugged his jacket and shirt off his shoulders, and he found his hands reaching for the warm, discarded clothes as Markus held them out to him. Simon was used to wearing more layers than what was provided in his current disguise, and for a split second he considered holding the bundle of warmth closer to himself, but he was worried that he was already making this situation tense enough. Simon closed his eyes in an attempt to stop them from wandering, but found them open again and trailing down Markus' chest. He watched Markus shift and tilt his head as he held up the uniform, attempting to make sense of it. Markus leaned over towards Simon, who straightened up and kept intense eye contact. What was he doing? Why was he getting so close? Markus shifted on his feet, pivoting away from Simon after depositing the hat, pants and over shirt momentarily. Simon's eyes were free to dart over him with his back turned, and he only had a moment until the long-sleeved undershirt would cover up his skin. He followed the curve of his side, pausing to notice the dip in his lower back before following his spine to his shoulder blades. He attempted to commit the image to memory, unintentionally furrowing his brows in the process. He noticed as Markus pulled the shirt down over his head, following the black hem down to his waist, but was not attentive enough to see Markus glance at him over his shoulder as his fingers tugged the hem down to his waistband. Simon was far too focused on the intake of information, as well as the intent to not openly share his thoughts with Markus. Markus turning, however, was a different story. Simon's eyes snapped up to his as he held the rest of the uniform out to Markus. Markus held his gaze as he took the pants, only breaking their eye contact to briefly glance to his own shoes, stepping out of them before reaching for his belt. Simon knew it was better for his own sanity to look away, and he did. He tilted his head to the side to give Markus privacy, but couldn't help but wonder why Markus didn't turn away like he had done before. Arguably, taking his pants off was more revealing than his shirt, but of course Markus probably wasn't thinking like that. There were more important matters at hand, and Simon shook his head in disappointment with himself, ever so slightly sighing. He needed to be better than this.

「You know, Simon...」 He risked a glance to meet Markus' eyes at the mention of his name. It was definitely a mistake--Markus was still in the process of putting his new pair of pants on. That mischievous look was still playing in the reflections on Markus' eyes, and Simon felt trapped no matter where he was looking. 「I thought having you helping me here was the safest option. Maybe--」 Markus' eyes darted to Simon's LED, which Simon was unaware of the color, 「--maybe I was wrong.」 Red, probably. At least it was now. 「Well.」 Simon had meant to immediately continue the thought, but the image of Markus buttoning his pants was too much to allow that to happen. Markus shook his head slightly, and Simon was relieved for the smile that plagued his lips, and that he didn't seem outwardly angry with him. Markus moved closer to place more warm clothes in his hands. His fingers hovered over the brim of the hat, but he didn't move away. Markus tilted his head to the side, as if asking for Simon to continue his previous thought. 「I think it was the best option.」 The thought was very forced, and he hated watching Markus take notice of his LED yet again. It really wasn't fair, especially since Markus had gotten rid of his own...Simon momentarily considered when he'd have time to remove his. But now wasn't the time for his mind to wander, because Markus was still right there, he wasn't moving. Simon felt his brow furrow ever so slightly as he searched for something in Markus' eyes. Some reason why he wasn't leaving the stall. North was waiting for him, and Simon had another part to play before they met up on the broadcasting floor. 「Simon.」 Markus' voice was gentle and innocent in his head, and Simon unconsciously shifted his jaw to the side, wearily casting his eyes up to meet his. Simon almost couldn't physically take their closeness, and felt his mind race as Markus leaned closer still, his eyes burning through Simon's thoughts, leaving him nothing but an incoherent jumble in his head. He felt a breath escape his lips, and Simon couldn't help but feel that Markus had stolen it. A hot huff of air escaped Markus, as well, and Simon breathed it in, happy to steal his breath in return.

Simon kept unwavering eye contact as Markus' lips barely brushed his own, sending a shock through every fiber of his being. Markus' firm hand rested on top of the bundle of clothes in Simon's hands, pressing down ever so slightly on him. The tension between their lips was unbearable. Their warm breaths collided between them, Simon's shaky and wavering ones against Markus' warm and steady ones. And when Markus finally did give into Simon's pleading, shivering lips, he kept his eyes trained on Simon's. Simon felt violated: it wasn't a negative feeling, but he felt so laid bare against Markus' gaze and against his lips. Simon couldn't handle the feeling any longer, and shut his eyes so that he could focus more on the physical part of this and less on the soul-searching gaze Markus was trying so hard to hold.

Their lips parted before Markus pressed again, tilting his head more to press their lips together tighter still. Simon unknowingly let down his guard, but he did, sighing into his lips and relaxing against him. His lips tingled with sensations he very well could handle, but that drove him so unbelievably insane. Without thinking twice, Simon's lips were void of the human façade that always incased them, and he took a moment to take a short breath of hot air before pressing them against Markus' own silver and blue-toned lips, feeling something so much more than before. The feelings of tenderness and understanding laid before him, and all he had to do was press his lips against Markus' to feel utterly engulfed in them. He's sure that he thought a lot of things to Markus: his name, about how nice it felt, about how incredibly warm Markus was, but Simon wasn't in the mindset to control how loud his thoughts were right now. He was in the mindset to enjoy this blessing while it lasted. Markus deepened the kiss, moving his hands to Simon's hips and pulling him closer as his tongue passed over Simon's bottom lip. Simon hadn't meant to let go of the clothes he had been entrusted with, but he heard the soft sounds of cloth fall to the floor between them. He placed his own hands ever so gently on Markus' chest, not pushing away but just feeling his warmth beneath them. If Markus was throwing thoughts in his direction, Simon was none the wiser. Their lips parted for a moment before Simon moved forward to close the gap, prompting Markus' hands to grip his hips tighter. Simon couldn't take the slight, continuous pressure from Markus and he leaned back into the wall behind him. Markus followed, the fingertips on his right hand sending a shock through Simon's system as they snaked under the hem of his shirt. Slowly, Markus ran his hand over his side, resting it along the back of his hip. Instinctively, perhaps, the skin on Simon's hip reacted to the lack of faux skin on Markus, and their true skin--smooth and white--met with an intense shock, as if Simon had been tossed into the waters by Jericho. Their bare lips touching had felt so different than the touch of his hand on him, and he wasn't sure if it was purely the intent of the action or if he was just that weak to someone grabbing his hip, android skin or not. Either way, Simon knew they had to stop here, before his resolve fully melted away from the extended close proximity with Markus' burning form.

Simon's hand moved before his lips could, disconnecting their android skin by grabbing Markus' wrist from over his shirt. "Markus." His voice was gentle, pleading even. He was sure he had the most pathetic look on his face, while Markus was paired with a furrowed brow and a warm smolder in his eyes. Everything about him was just so warm. He moved away, stooping down to gather the clothes Simon had dropped. Simon took the clothes back, watching him closely for any signs of anger, but Markus only took a moment to compose himself before slipping back into his shoes and placing his hat neatly atop his head. He glanced back, holding Simon's gaze for far too long before offering a gentle smile. 「I'd like to try that again, back in Jericho. For now, let's focus on the plan.」

Simon felt a chill go up his spine, and he wasn't sure if it was brought on by Markus' voice in his head, or if it was merely that Markus had taken that warmth with him when he left. 「Right. I'll meet up with Josh. ...Markus, stay safe.」 Markus merely nodded before taking his leave of the stall, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts and these not-as-warm clothes after having pushed the lock back into place. He waited a moment. They didn't have a lot of time, but he could afford to steel his nerves for a second longer. His hand instinctively touched where Markus' had previously been, both on his hip and then gently reaching up to his lips. Simon couldn't think about how perfect all that had been. He stepped up on the toilet, pushing up on the ceiling tile in order to put Markus' suit away from prying eyes. Pausing, Simon thought that maybe this would've been easier had he dropped the uniform off up here, allowing Markus to change into it without the need for a hand-to-hand exchange. He pushed the thought out of his mind because he wouldn't trade their last interaction for the world.

Stepping out of the stall, Simon focused on looking natural and controlling the color of his LED. He briskly left with his own stolen keycard, ready to meet up with Josh and wait in the service elevator for the last leg of their plan. Things were changing already, and for once...Simon felt optimistic. Everything was going to be okay because Markus was here with them now. They were going to earn their freedom via his lead, no doubt about it.

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awearywritersworld · 10 months

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tell me you don't want me

gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.

however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.

for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.

he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.

"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.

he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."

and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."

after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.

you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.

gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).

"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"

he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."

"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.

he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."

after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.

you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.

"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.

"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."

"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."

you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.

"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.

"not yet."

"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"

"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"

he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"

you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."

"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"

"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"

"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"

his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.

once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.

"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.

you nod eagerly. "yes."

the two of you have never fought before.

well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.

that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.

"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.

the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"

after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.

rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.

why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?

"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"

because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.

he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.

he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.

"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."

"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."

your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.

"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.

his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.

he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"

you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.

one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.

his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.

"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."

and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.

his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.

"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.

your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.

his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."

your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."

"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.

you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.

he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.

his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.

gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."

taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice

#m!writes #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo imagines #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst

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nouearth · 5 months

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my favorite scent is you.

bruce wayne x male reader.

summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).

wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.

notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.

“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”

It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.

Just a little more, and you’ll break free.

It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.

“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”

“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”

“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”

Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”

“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here.

“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”

“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky. “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”

“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.

“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.

“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”

“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”

“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss.

“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.”

“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.

You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up.

He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.

“Let me take care of you now.”

You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.

Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.

I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…

Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?

You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.

Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.

“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”

The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.

Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…

The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing.

As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.

Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.

Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.

After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.

“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.

White musk.

The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.

Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.

“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.

“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.

I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was… shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.

He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.

Again, as he throbbed.

And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore.

Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.

The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).

His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.

“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.

He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.

Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”

Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.

What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.

Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.

I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.

He was close.

Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.

Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth.

“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.

Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.

Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another.

“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.

I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.

He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.

Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.

Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.

Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.

“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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kur0m1sblog · 1 year

Note

If you are okay with writing this, do you think you can write a Miguel x F!Reader (whose a Spider) oneshot where Miguel finds out the reader is pregnant due to his hearing, and the reader reveals she kept it a secret because she didn’t know how to tell him.

Not Meant To Hear Yet.

summary: Miguel had came back from a meeting with the spider-society and overheard you panicking in you’re shared bathroom. He continued to overheard something he wasn’t meant to hear yet…

characters: Miguel O’Hara. Jessica Drew.

warnings: crying. reader having a panic attack. angst. implied smut. little love confession.

genre: angst. romance. fluff.

reader: fem! spider-woman! reader

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

This was not what you wanted to happen, you didn’t want a to have a child this young. You were 24, your boyfriend of 4 years, 27. And a couple months ago, you’d found out you were pregnant. At first you didn’t believe it, until all the test you took all came back positive. You didn’t want this, well you did want a child, just not this early..

And how were you going to tell Miguel this, you were sure he wouldn’t take the news good. You’d thought at the time you were for sure on the birth control..

He was at a ‘meeting’ with some members from the spider-society while you decided on staying home. After he left you did your normal routine, house chores, out chores. Miguel always insisted that you didn’t have to do that whenever you stayed home, he didn’t want you to be worked up and more tired then you normally should.

After your ‘chores’, you rush to your shared bedroom that was up the stairs. Dialing your phone, you call Jessica. She answers in a calm tone, while you answer in a worried tone. “Hey are you okay? What is it you need help with? You seem worried..” She said, a version of her showing up infront of you, she was on her motorcycle on a street in her universe.

You clack your nail repeatedly on the counter repeatedly, deciding to tell her what happened once she’d stop at a light. “Okay don’t get to excited or anything since your riding your motorcycle, but.. I’m pregnant..” You say waiting for her response and reaction.

As Jessica sat at the light, she started asking you a dozens of questions, “Do you know the gender yet?”, “Top 5 names if it’s a girl or boy?”, “Does Miguel even know yet?” You didn’t say anything after that question. Just from a minute of silence, she knew you hadn’t. “You haven’t told him have you..?”

Miguel had teleported into the house, he took his costume off and replaced them with comfortable clothing he’d left from the previous night before on the couch, while doing so, he heard you talking to someone. He figured it was important so he shrugged it off and started taking the ingredients out for dinner you were going to be cooking on this bittersweet night. “I just don’t know how to tell him that there’s a baby on the way.” He paused his movements. Had you just said what you said was truly real. It seemed seemed specious, but it wasn’t. It was true, real. “I don’t know how he’ll take the news, I want him to be happy about it and all but, what if he’s not, what if he’s angry about it..” That made him feel egregious and compunctioned. You thought he wouldn’t react well or good to the news..? He frowned and sat on the couch, still ‘eavesdropping’, but not on purpose of course.

After the conversation you had with Jessica, you pranced down the stairs to see Miguel on the couch, you froze halfway on the stairs panicking, you hoped he didn’t hear that whole conversation with her, and that he’d just gotten home. You continued your way down the stairs, he looked up to see you. God, he thought you looked so seraphic. “Hello Mi Rey, how was your day?” You say as you walk up to him and give him a sweet kiss onto of his forehead, after you ran your hands through his hair and smiled sweetly at him.

It took him a second or more to respond to your daily question, “It was good baby, do you feel okay right now? Your red..” He says. He knew what he was doing, he already knew what happened now.

You look in his eyes, look down and chuckle. “Yes dear I’m fine, I’m going to start dinner now.” Kissing his cheek, you walk to the kitchen to see he put what you needed out. “Aww, thanks for putting everything out, thank my hombre guapo. Would you like to help me with dinner tonight?” You say peaking your head out of the kitchen into the living room.

He stands up and walks over to you, “Only if that means we can play music?” He says as his large hands wrap around the small of your back and butt. Whenever he meant “play music”, he meant while the food was cooking and the both of you had time to waste to dance around in the kitchen and plant gentle kisses on one another.

You look to the side and frown for a second, debating your words of choice. “Miguel?” You say looking up at him.

After you just saying his name, he got quite worried. “What is it mi amor?” He said looking deep into your eyes.

“Whatever happens, I just hope you know I love you, so so much.. Your the best thing that’s ever happened to me..” You say, feeling different waves of emotions coming over you.

He was surprised. He thought that something bad was going to happen, but surprisingly it wasn’t anything bad. You were having one of your moments where you just wanted to say that you loved him. “God I love you too y/n..” He says shoving you into his broad chest.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

After making dinner the both of you sat down at the table, across from eachother. It was quiet, that weirded you out a little, he was always the one to start a conversation at the table..

You clear your throat and look up at him, “Soooo, did anything interesting happen with them today?” You say, taking another sip of your soup. Your mind was racing with random question and things you had to finish after eating.

He looked up, didn’t say anything, until a couple moments later. “Nope not really.. But there is something I’d like to talk about with you.” He said in a significant tone, as he pushed his soup bowl to the side, with his glass of water.

You took note of this, his tone was never like this unless there was something wrong or serious we needed to talk about. “Okay…” You drag out as you do the same gesture as him, pushing your glass and bowl out of the way.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant..?” He asked. His shoulders were tense, as he stood properly in his chair.

Oh god, he knows..? But how, that shouldn’t have been unless he heard me upstairs, is that why he was so tense when I came down the stairs.. “Look Miguel, I’m sorry, I just didn’t know how to break the news to you.” You felt a sense of compunction rush over you. “I didn’t know how you would react, or how you felt about having a child.. I just..” You didn’t finish anything, tears ran down your cheeks, as you didn’t look at him but at the cleared area in front of you on the table.

You didn’t see him, but he got up and started walking towards you. He wrapped his strong and well-knitted arms around you, you cried and cried in his chest. You felt horrible, you were gasping for air at this point from crying.

He let go of you and took your flushed face in his hands. “Look Hermosa, I’m not angry, I’m just a little sad that you’d think I’d feel that way. I’m happy that you are okay?” Staring at you, he waited for you to nod. When you did he gave you a kiss, picked you up, and carried you to the bedroom where the both of you would go to sleep. And clean up the both of you made from cooking tomorrow. “Goodnight, Mi Amor.”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

notes: Thank you so much for requesting, I truly hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have a great morning/afternoon/night!

June 4, 2023

9:30am

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #x reader #m x f #m x f story #fluffy #angst #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #Spider-Man: across the spider verse x you #Spider-Man: across the spider verse x reader #spider man 2099 #Spider-Man 2099 x you

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klausysworld · 4 months

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Hi could you write some angst about a deeply insecure reader who hates her appearance and is sort of friends with Elena and everyone(pushed to the side kind of relationship)but when klaus comes around it’s clear that she has a crush but believes he’s out of her league then klaus uses it to his advantage by showing an interest in her for information and helps her with her self worth.klaus then starts to develop feelings for her but then it’s revealed that he was just manipulating her and reader is devastated and utterly humiliated and it sets her back to how she was before him.(sorry if that was a really long explanation,you can decide the ending)thanks I love your writing btw

Real

Growing up in Mystic Falls is a bizarre experience.

There were town events almost every month where you had to dress up and act better than everyone, parents basically had a competition over who had the prettiest daughters or the most handsome sons.

Not my parents.

They didn't think I was good enough to even pretend that I could compete. I was told my worth from a young age and became more aware of it with time. When your own parents don't think you're good enough it's sort of an eye-opener if you will.

It didn't help that everyone in this town seemed to be born into modelling.

Somehow I was lucky enough to wind up 'friends' with people like Elena, Caroline and Bonnie but I knew I didn't belong with them. Somehow they were gorgeous enough to get whatever they wanted.

Sometimes I wondered if everyone else at the age of 17 looked like them and I was behind or if somewhere, I was above average. I doubted it. A lot.

Occasionally I would look at a mirror and think that I wasn't even that bad to look at. There was nothing particularly ugly about me, there just wasn't anything special. I looked plain in a way, bland and forgettable.

I was very forgettable actually. My 'friends' made that abundantly clear throughout the years when they would go out without me or forget to ask if I also wanted something or liked something.

Somehow I was of no value to them. Perhaps I was simply there to amplify their beauty. Like a DUFF. I was definitely the DUFF.

Damon actually told me that I was once, after Tyler had made the joke and Damon asked what it meant. Even though I already knew it to be true, to be told it was much worse.

You could sort of tell everyone else was thinking it, especially when I was stood beside Caroline.

Stefan was the only one who was nice but I wasn't sure if it was out of pity or just because that was who he was. Then again, I'd rather just not know.

So I tried my best to keep in the background, avoid attention and stay out the way.

Even with all the vampire and werewolf drama that took course, I kept myself quiet and to the side. Strangely it was Katherine who was kind to me, whether she had an ulterior motif I'm not so sure anymore but she never hurt me in the time she was there. Neither did Elijah when he came to town, he was polite to everyone but it was obvious that my presence was irrelevant to him.

And then of course, Klaus arrived.

I didn't officially meet him until the senior prank night, he sort of just threw to the side and told me to keep my mouth closed and not to bother running because he'd just kill me. Part of me thought about running anyway so he would just end it but I didn't.

Klaus dragged me by my wrist into his car, told me to keep quiet while he drove Elena to the hospital. For whatever reason he brought me along and left me in the car as he went to drain her of blood for his hybrids. I did as told: sat silently and waited.

He came back out and spoke to Damon for a moment, I saw them glance over in my direction only for Damon to laugh and smirk. I sighed to myself and got out the car. It was clear that Klaus thought I could be a good pawn but was surly mistaken and Damon told him to do whatever he wanted to me. In response I walked home, neither noticed so it was fine.

A week or so later he came back, crashed homecoming or something? I dunno, I wasn't there but I was told about it the next day via a stroppy Caroline.

It was that same day that he came and sat beside me at the grill. I ignored him for the most part, confused by his attempt at what I could only guess was flirting? I wasn't really sure. I think he could tell.

"Not easily impressed are you love?" he questioned as he leant forward, uncomfortably close. I sort of just looked at him, still unsure to what he wanted. A smirk pulled at the end of his lips and his hand lifted, his fingers wrapping around a piece of my hair making frown and pull away abruptly. Without hesitation I stood up and spun on my heel, going to leave. His laugh followed me and a hand grabbed my waits, it was stange.

"Calm down love, It's not like I was going to rip it out, I just wondered what it felt like" he chuckled, pulling my back flush against his front making me tense and squirm.

"It feels like hair" I stated simply "Now get off" I grunted, shoving my elbow into his side to make him let go. I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground.

The next time I saw him he apologised for the previous encounter which again, i didn't understand but there was no point in questioning and arguing so I just accepted it and tried to leave but he asked if I'd stay for one drink, he asked so nicely and he smiled. I was stupid enough to think it was genuine and accepted.

Looking back it was pretty obvious that this was a game for him or a trap, whatever you want to label it but in the moment I ignored what was right in my face. Deep down I knew it was all a joke of sorts really.

But no boy, let alone a man had shown me this sort of attention and the soft fluttering it made me feel had me staying for far too long. I listened to his little stories and asked a range of questions as the drinks kept coming. He asked a couple about me but i gave relatively vague answers. There wasn't much I had to give him on me, I wasn't up for a pity party about friends and I didn't really fancy talking about my shitty parents either. I think Klaus picked up on the fact that I didn't really want to talk about me and eventually gave up with it.

It was late when I realised I needed to get home and he offered to take me which I admit made me wary. I didn't want him to kidnap me and think I'd be any good as leverage again, though I guess Damon made that pretty clear already. I decided to just walk home which he eventually accepted and got into his car.

Walking by myself probably wasn't my best option after drinking so much in one go but I made it home with minimal stumbling. My mother shook her head when she saw me and asked what was wrong with me. When she realised I had been drinking her mind jumped to two very different conclusions. The first being that I was being a slut which was ironic as in the past she'd made it clear that no guy would want to sleep with me, and the second being that I had taken pills to kill myself.

Listening to her drastic thinking made me wonder what kind of pills she was on but I didn't question it and waited for my father to come and take her to bed, telling her to just ignore me. Then I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, getting changed and washing my face before going to my bed.

My phone dinged making me sigh, thinking it was Elena asking me to help her with something dumb and life threatening however much to my surprise it was Klaus. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and we messaged back and forth before he told me to rest.

The following few days he would just check in. Not too much but he also made it clear that he hadn't forgotten me which was all I had ever truly wanted from someone. To be acknowledged at the very least.

Of course I didn't tell the others that he had been talking to me, besides they didn't ask so I didn't see why I should. I guess I just wanted something for myself.

I wasn't completely stupid. I always had the feeling that he was using me, especially towards the start...but he was just so wonderful with his words and his ways.

When he began to make and buy sweet gifts and claim they were tokens of his affection, I couldn't help the blush on my face. When he would find a way to have his skin against mine, or how he would pick up my hand and gently tug my along. Somehow we always seemed to end up somewhere for food, and he would always refuse to let me pay.

Something about him was so enticing, addictive if you will.

He began to make me feel a certain way. He made me warm and happy. His touch was so soft, it made me feel like I was buzzing. i was stupid for thinking he could feel the same way about me.

I had been so scared to admit my feelings.

He had assured me that he would never push me to.

He told me that he liked me, that he didn't want me to be frightened of him or nervous around him. "Not unless it's the sort of nervous that puts butterflies in your stomach sweetheart" he had teased and my cheeks had glowed red.

Over the space of months his presence never lessoned. He always made time to see me, and speak with me. I found myself longing for his voice, his touch.

On days where he was too busy at home, he would urge me to come over. I would spend as long as I possibly could with him, a few times I even stayed over but he had slept on top of the duvet so that I would feel comfortable.

This had gone on for a small while until he actually said the words 'I love you'.

Perhaps I was just so happy to actually hear those words. Maybe I believed them to be true, real. Or I just saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear and ignored the rest.

The time I gave myself to him used to make my smile and blush. Now it just makes me feel dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.

Knowing that he could and has had his hands all over my body, his lips and eyes. In the moment I felt like a goddess, probably because that’s what he told me I was. The memory of him inside me haunts me. I had thought it to be such a beautiful experience, romantic and personal.

I wish I could say that I had slept with him only once but as the months went by we would share intimacy often.

I had even told him that I loved him, so many times and I meant it for all of them.

So you should understand why it was so hard to accidentally hear him tell his sister that he had been compelling me for any information on the others.

It had felt as though my heart had stopped when the words hit my ears and tears already made my eyes burn. I heard a weak laugh and turned my head to see Damon, strung up by chains whilst bleeding all over, looking straight back at me.

“Y/n…” I heard Klaus’s voice, his tone one of panic or maybe it was just surprise. He probably didn’t want me to know of his routine. Damon only rolled his eyes and gave me look,

“You didn’t…think it was real, right?” He coughed, a cruel smile on his face.

His words just made me quieter. They made me think. Why did I think it was real?

My eyes slowly lifted to meet Klaus’s. I could see and feel Rebekah looking at me, everyone was silent. Even Damon shut up for a second. I think maybe he was expecting me to say something but I didn’t really have anything to tell him.

As awful as it all made me feel, and even with the amount of emotions swallowing me, I felt more disappointed in myself than I did him.

My right hand went to my left arm, pinching my skin through my jumper in some sort of hope that I’d wake up from some stupid nightmare but it didn’t work.

The first tear fell from my eye and I sniffed to keep the other ones from coming.

Klaus just looked at me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I didn’t want to know either. I could just guess anyway.

So without a word I just turned around and left, walking quickly back out the door before breaking into a sprint in the direction of my house. I could feel the mascara running down my face, ruining the foundation I had only recently started wearing, for Klaus’s benefit.

My hands wiped at the tears as I pushed my from door shut behind me and went upstairs, blocking out the annoyed voices of my parents and locking myself in my room.

It was only once I was in the shower that I was flooded with memories. That I remembered all the things I had done with him. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my skin was scrubbed raw in an attempt to wash his touch away. Even the slightest touch made me feel as though my body was burning, stinging with pain but I would have rather felt that every day than have to realise Klaus had been using me for over a year now.

I was curled in my bed, hidden under the blankets and surrounded by the dark as I let every comment not matter how small or petty play back through my mind.

I wasn’t even sure who to be upset with. I chose myself.

Klaus must’ve known I was an easy target. Desperate. I wonder how much he’s had me tell him. To be fair I knew more than you’d expect about what was going on. I had gotten good at observing and overhearing so I still knew what was going on, even when spending so much time with Klaus himself.

I also wondered what else he had compelled me to do. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything other than ask questions but I couldn’t help that fear creep inside me. It made me sick to my stomach, and then I wondered if he would just wait to compel me again so that I could continue to be his information feeder.

The idea made my fingers dig into my arm, bruising the skin purple but I wouldn’t stop. I only did so that I could go get some vervain that I kept downstairs in one of the cupboards at the back. I was reaching for the little glass bottle when I heard a door close. I spun around quickly to see Klaus in the doorway of my kitchen. My hand clutched onto the vervain tightly and I noticed his eyes glance at it briefly. His hands went up as if to show no harm but there was no way I would believe that meant a thing.

“Sweetheart- listen to me..” he began and I let out a breathless laugh

“Get out” I whispered making him sigh and frown as though he had the audacity to be upset or annoyed.

“Y/n..”

“No Klaus. I’m fucking serious, get out.” I told him, my eyes watering again. I let out an involuntary whimper when he stepped forward making him stop and stand still.

“I never meant for you to know that” he whispered and I frowned, swiping a tear away.

“Sorry I ruined your plan” I mumble, exhausted.

“No- no I didn’t mean it like that- I meant that-“

“Klaus it’s fine” I murmur, avoiding his eye, “It’s fine, I get it. You needed to know what was happening, you got to be two steps ahead. I’d appreciate if you just found someone else now please”

I could feel his stare on me, it make my skin itch and I just needed him to go. I could feel my hand getting clammy as I held onto the bottle.

“I haven’t compelled you in such a long time” he muttered, as though maybe that made it better. “I used to, but I truly have fallen for you Y/n. I love-“

“Please get out” I cut him off, my spare hand resting on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“I love you”

“No you don’t” I cry, “you wouldn’t do this to someone you love. I know you don’t love me. You never have and you never could. You’re just pretending again so I’ll let you control me, I don’t like it” I whimper, tears streaming again. I could hear him getting closer but I was already against the counter and I couldn’t out run him. There was no point in trying.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never use you again-“ he tried to argue but I couldn’t listen to it.

“I really, really need you to leave. Please Klaus just get out, I can’t stand you” I tell him honestly and for a second as I look up at him, he looks almost sad but I have to assume it’s still apart of his act.

“You- you’re not going to do anything…anything harmful are you? To yourself, I mean.” He asked and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I should never have told him that I’d had those thoughts or feelings once. I shouldn’t have ever said a word to him.

“No…now go away” I whisper, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground, listening to his footsteps eventually get further away.

I knew there was no way I could sleep, he was probably still outside my house. Waiting.

I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but I could him there.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

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stevie-petey · 1 month

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episode one: suzie, do you copy?

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.” Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”

Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 9.6k

Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !

June 27th, 1985.

A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.

In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.

The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,

It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.

There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.

Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.

As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”

You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”

“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.

“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”

You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.

“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.

Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”

“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”

His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”

“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”

You gasp. “You’re lying!”

“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”

“What about Mike and El?”

“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”

Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”

“Please? I could be poor soon!”

“No, it’s not going to happen–”

“But–”

A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.

It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”

She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”

“Hello to you too, Henderson.”

You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”

“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.

Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”

You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.

“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.

“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”

Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”

“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”

Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”

You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”

Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”

Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”

“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.

“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.

Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.

He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”

Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”

You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.

Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”

You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”

Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.

–

When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.

The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”

But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.

In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.

A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.

The phone rings.

“Right on time, honey.”

“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.

Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.

Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.

“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.

Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”

“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.

“You two are the worst together.”

“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”

“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”

Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And yet you stay.” You tease.

“And yet I stay.”

You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.

–

The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.

It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.

By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.

It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.

Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.

Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”

The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”

You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”

“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”

The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”

She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.

Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.

You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?

At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.

Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”

“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.

There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”

You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”

Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”

Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”

Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”

“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”

“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”

Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”

You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.

The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.

You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.

“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.

You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.

Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”

You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.

Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”

You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.

Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”

Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”

He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”

You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.

–

Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.

Seems it’s time for their movie.

You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”

“Ow, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”

Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”

“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”

Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”

Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”

“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.

You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”

“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.

However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”

You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”

Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.

Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”

Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.

Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.

“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.

“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?

You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”

Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”

You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.

However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.

–

When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.

She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.

Robin, however, clearly has other plans.

“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.

“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”

“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.

Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”

Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”

“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”

Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”

“Technically I dumped her–”

“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”

Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”

“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.

“Harrington!”

There it is.

“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”

Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”

Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”

Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”

“You’re hopeless.”

–

“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.

You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.

After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”

Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.

It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.

It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.

Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”

Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.

Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”

“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.

“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.

Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”

Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.

You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”

Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”

The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.

Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.

“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.

“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.

Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”

“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.

Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”

The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”

“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.

Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”

You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”

Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.

Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.

“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.

A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”

Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”

“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.

“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”

Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”

“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”

You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.

As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”

Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”

“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.

“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.

You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”

“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”

“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”

You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”

From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.

Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”

“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.

–

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”

The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”

The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”

“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.

The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”

“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.

“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.

“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”

Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”

“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”

“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”

“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.

“Since when?”

“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”

Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”

“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”

Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”

Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”

For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.

–

Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.

You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.

Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.

You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”

“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.

“You’re dating a Mormon?”

Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.

Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”

“Scary people–”

Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”

“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”

“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.

Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.

“But they were also star crossed lovers.”

“Who killed themselves.”

Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”

You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”

“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.

Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”

“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.

With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”

Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”

You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”

“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.

“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.

Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross!” Will voices again.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”

“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”

You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”

Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”

Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.

You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.

“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.

“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.

At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”

“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.

You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”

“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.

Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.

Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.

“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.

“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.

Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.

You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.

“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.

Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.

Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”

“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”

“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.

Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.

Dustin gasps. “She exists!”

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”

Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”

“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”

Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”

“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”

Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.

“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.

Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”

Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”

Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.

You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”

“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.

As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”

His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.

“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”

Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.

He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”

You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”

“Russian.” Dustin whispers.

Everything changes, then.

–

You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”

He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.

You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.

When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.

“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”

“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.

Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”

Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.

He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”

Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”

You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”

“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.

“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”

“Y/N, are you in danger–”

“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”

“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.

Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, angel. You know that.”

And you do.

Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.

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⌑ taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @thytorturedpoet @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector @chervbs @poppet055 @bookkeeperlove @bellenotthebeast @swiftieblyth @ladyobscurus @moon-flowerss @estaticheart @dreamingofts18 @lanxsee @thecapricunt1616 @aheadfullofsteverogers @marvel-and-music @angie2274 @thescoopstroopers @xuimhao @rh1nestonecowg1rl @shelby-ren @carinacassiopeiae @eddiemunson-86-baby @ribbetzetoad @harryssideboobz

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #fluff #angst #nya #m's writing

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pocketgalaxies · 2 months

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C1E60 || C3E88

#critical role #criticalroleedit #vex'ahlia #imogen temult #laura bailey #gifs #*#*cr #*parallel #cr1 #cr3 #vex'ahlia cr #syldor vessar #liliana temult #r: vex x imogen #angst tag #nova shh #cr meta #47m c1e60 #3h12m c3e88 #laura bailey said it's all about the blood of you mixed into the blood of me whether i like it or not and what does that mean #because it certainly doesn't seem to mean that you love me.#and how can i love you when you were supposed to raise me and protect me and care for me and you didn't #how can i love you when you were supposed to teach me what love is and instead you only taught me hate and loneliness #and why is there a part of me that still desperately hopes that you do love me? that you could bring yourself to love me?#and then the part that makes me go even more batshit crazy: THEY HAVE /MET/ EACH OTHER. THESE TWO WOMEN HAVE M E T #*SCREAMS FOR SEVEN THOUSAND HOURS STRAIGHT*

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lady-of-the-spirit · 3 months

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Fics where a character gets magically turned into their younger/child selves with no memory of their adult self and everyone around them has to help take care of the child and in the process learn about their traumatizing childhood and/or realize just how much the adult self has gone through in their life my beloved

#DE AGED FIC #MY BELOVED #fr if it's only for fluff and there's no angst or realization of the character's trauma i'm not reading it. i respect it but it's not for m #i'm saying stuff #de aged #hurt/comfort #angst #fanfic

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deardarlingdevil · 8 months

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Imagine Raphael feeling a twinge of tenderness whenever he sees you.

Imagine Raphael denying to himself the protectiveness that washes over him at the sight of you.

Imagine Raphael tossing and turning at night, unable to sleep well because Korilla didn't have any new information on you.

Imagine Raphael writing feverishly in his journal about the new dream he had about you.

Imagine Raphael's panic when Korilla reports that you've been captured, and his relief once he knows you're safe, because he sent Korrilla to save you.

Imagine Raphael thinking that perhaps, he can be what he claims to be, and be a savior to you.

Imagine Raphael talking Korrilla's ear off about his plans for you, and it becomes painfully obvious to the warlock that he is deeply infatuated with his favorite misadventurer.

Imagine Raphael starting to believe his own words when he tells you that he has grown fond of you, or that he likes you.

Imagine Raphael realizing that the farcical "love" that he gets from an incubus pales in comparison to that unwanted feelings of love for you that continues to grip his dark heart.

Imagine Raphael, a half-devil, learning to embrace his mortal side, and all the messy feelings that comes with it, love included.

Imagine Raphael finally learning to love anyone other than himself, and he loves you. And he cannot spit it out.

#this is supposed to be exclusively raphael x fortune's dynamic but fuck it let's get the reader/tav involved. still tagging their ship tho #ship: the devil's luck #raphael x tav #raphael x f!tav #raphael x m!tav #raphael x reader #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 imagines #fluff #angst

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xuzuitengenx · 6 months

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Neuvillette x Pyro Dragon!Male Reader Oneshot

Title: As We Meet Once Again

Genre: Angst

CW and Info: NOT PROOF-READ!, Short Oneshot, OOC moments, Lovers turn strangers

How long has it been since Neuvillette heard about the Pyro Dragon's existence? Seems like just yesterday Neuvillette watched him leave with Neuvillette's heart that he gave to him years before but in reality, it has been hundreds of years.

Oh, how much the Hydro Dragon cried that day, begging for the other to stay as the sky was darkened with clouds as rain poured harshly on the two.

Remembering his first and last love with a unexpressive face as he was sobbing but not everything on that horrible day the Pyro Dragon did was apathetic.

With the hands that always held Neuvillette with love and pure adoration on his face that was still streaming tears and a long kiss on Neuvillette's forehead.

As soon Neuvillette closed his eyes to capture the soft kiss as the wet hands of his lover on his face, the Pyro Dragon was gone.

Walking through the streets of Fontaine, Neuvillette remembers that last kiss and touch till this day. Neuvillette didn't notice how the sky was slowly clouding up due to the memory and soon light raindrops starts to fall.

It had seem tears has formed in his eyes, not falling from his waterline yet. Before the tears and the lump in his throat began further as the rain worsen, an umbrella appeared and shielding Neuvillette from the rain.

"Don't cry, Hydro Dragon.."

That voice...It was so familiar to Neuvillette...too familiar. Neuvillette looks up at the person holding the umbrella, his breath gets stuck in his throat as his heart seems to shatter yet began to quicken once again like it did centuries ago.

"M/N..." A hushed whisper from Neuvillette was heard from the said man who smiled softly. Oh, that smile that Neuvillette adored..

"Here, take it..I wouldn't be needing it." M/N spoke as he handed Neuvillette the umbrella, their hands slightly touching which made Neuvillette wanting more than that after centuries of not feeling M/N's touch.

"I'll see you around, Monsieur Neuvillette?" The way his name rolled off of M/N's tongue made Neuvillette's heart skip but it also sadden Neuvillette as he was just "Monsieur Neuvillette" to the one he forever loves.

Were they now strangers but with memories?

#male reader #x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #seme male reader #mature #genshin impact #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #neuvillette x male reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette angst #Neuvillette x m!reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #angst #lovers to strangers

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lokiusly · 3 months

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what if in Deadpool 3, the camera pans to Mobius' cubicle and it's now a vacant desk, completely empty.

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rking200 · 12 days

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Choices and Disasters

Simon and Josh bicker within the elevator while they await Markus and North to call them up. In the hallway to the broadcast room, fear grips Markus as he sets out to ruse the guards, which leads to Simon getting shot. The speech must go on and the plan continues. A hostage escapes and a SWAT raid ensues. Simon is unfortunately victim to their rounds, but Markus comes to his aid. Up on the roof, Markus must make a choice and live with its consequences.

4k words, chapter two of a three four chapter SimonxMarkus angst/hurt-comfort/R18 fic. Chapter one can be found here. This would be the start of angst, which will overflow into the next chapter. Then R18, if plans don't change (again). Will be posted to AO3 upon completion.

「Everything okay?」

Simon hated that Josh knew him so well. He had only just gotten into the elevator, and now he was locked in this cage with Josh until Markus called it up to their destination. He tried to figure out what to tell Josh and what wasn't important to share in this moment, but the deafening silence after Josh's question must've been too much for him. With a hand placed on Simon's shoulder, Josh spoke again to Simon, worry dripping from his words. 「Are you alright.」 It wasn't a question at all, but it felt nice for Josh to be so worried about him, if he was being honest. He let too much time pass a second time, and was quick to open his mouth once Josh squeezed his shoulder. 「I'm fine, Josh.」 He glanced over at Josh, who didn't even budge. His eyes were seeking some tidbit of information Simon was keeping from him and Simon--against his better judgement--had to look away. 「I promise.」 He knew that Josh wasn't about to buy his half baked promise, as his weary eyes and closed posture didn't exactly scream 'you can trust my words at face value'. Josh huffed, squeezing Simon for a prolonged moment. Simon knew what he was conveying with it: that he cared about him and just wanted to know what was on his mind. 「We can talk about it later. Now's not the time.」 Unfortunately, this didn't satiate Josh and only proved to irritate him further. His hand was quickly taken from Simon's shoulder, exasperatedly thrown into the air before jerkily resting at his sides.

「Simon, what's going on with you recently? You're not acting yourself.」 Strange, Simon thought. He felt like he was more himself now than ever: shy and an anxious mess. What exactly was Josh insinuating? 「If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but pushing me away isn't going to do you any good either. And if you didn't like the plan, you should have spoken up. I can't be the only one.」「It's not like that, it's just...Markus.」 Simon cast his eyes to the side, consequently turning his face so that Josh could fully see his LED, blinking yellow. Simon hoped that Josh would just understand that there was some sort of romantic attachment to his words so that he didn't have to outright explain what had happened in the bathroom stall. He shook his head, begging the memories and feelings not to resurface.

「Yeah, I get it.」 Simon quickly looked over at Josh, processing his words. 「He shows up in Jericho and then thinks he can run the place? Tell us all what to do, putting us in danger with no remorse?」 Simon stared at him, his mouth moving but no words coming out. He shook his head, gluing his eyes to the floor as he concentrated on something to say. 「He expects everyone to fall in line and follow his word. How do we even know if he has our best interests at heart?」

「No, that's not it at all.」 Simon closed his eyes tight, shaking his head a few times. 「Markus wants to help us.」

「Help us?! You're following him blindly! I used to be able to trust your direction but I can't anymore. You're doing what he wants and not what's best for our people.」

"Markus wants us to be free." Simon's gritted teeth steeled the nasty words he had wanted to say, but Josh wasn't going to back down at the slightest bit of pushback. "Yeah, and he'll kill as many of us as possible to try to achieve that. We can't put all our stock in one man, someone we don't even know!" Simon turned to face Josh, his lips a thin line and his eyes threatening to overflow with emotions. "At least he's doing something!" Josh's eyes betrayed his shock in Simon's outburst, and he opened his mouth to say something in retort, but found himself interrupted as the elevator lurched. Simon's anger didn't subside, but his anxiety now flared along with it. Hopefully it was Markus, and they were now beginning the last leg of their plan. It wasn't often that Simon raised his voice, and he found it difficult to control his clenched fists and his furrowed brow. Yelling at Josh didn't make him feel any better: he knew it wouldn't change his mind and he also knew he'd have to talk about that outburst again, in private when they got back to Jericho. He wasn't looking forward to it, and Simon found himself even more reluctant to share the events that had transpired with Josh.

His hands trembled around the cool metal of the round explosive, another item that hadn't ended up in his hands by chance. But Markus cared for him in some compacity. Personally cared for him. He couldn't afford to assume Markus saw him as expendable at this rate, as he had before their rendezvous in the bathrooms. Especially with Josh's push-back, he had to hold faith in Markus and in his plan.

Markus was simultaneously put at ease and back on edge at the opening of the elevator door. He watched Simon carefully, reaching to take the device from him and focusing on his furrowed eyebrows. He looked angry, and Markus hadn't really seen him like this before. He wondered what had happened between now and the last time he saw him, but decided not to press further as he glanced at Josh, who was also visibly upset.

If something had gone wrong, they would have said something. This had nothing to do with the plan, and that was what they had to focus on. Maybe if the tension was still palatable between the two when they got back to Jericho, Markus might mention it. He had other things he had to discuss privately with Simon, however, and his fight with Josh might just fall a little lower on that list. His gaze caught Simon's and he softened slightly, allowing Markus to take a deep breath and focus once more on their mission. With a few words of encouragement and the help of the explosive device, they were a hallway away from their goal. North and Josh resumed their gentle bickering, as usual, and Markus felt the weight of their cause on his shoulders, pressing firmer than ever. "What do you wanna do, Markus?"

He met eyes with Simon. They had to deal with the guards, but it was in their best interest not to kill them. "Wait here."

Walking out into the hallway, Markus ran through the plan in his head. Get the rise on them, threaten with his gun, knock them out. No casualties. They were here to demand peace, and they had to lead by example. But something happened, and Markus couldn't explain it even if he tried. He stepped out and, upon hearing the guards' voices, he froze up. His hand twitched as he reached for his gun, but he felt absolutely frozen in place. Was this fear? The weight on his shoulders was solidifying him in place, pressing down through his shoulders and deep within his stomach. He didn't need to breathe, but he found it hard to nonetheless. The fear pressed harder still as he watched the guard reach for his phone--as he watched him call for backup. Seeing North come to his rescue wasn't what pulled him out of his fear-locked state. It was the gunshot that did that, and even then it took him a second to turn his eyes to Simon.

"Simon's been shot!" Josh was squatted down at beside Simon while North moved the knocked-out guards out of immediate view of the elevator. With the pressure slightly relieved, Markus found his footing and quickly went to Simon. He placed his hands on either shoulder, kneeling down right in front of him in an attempt to demand his gaze.

"I'm okay, I can keep going!"

Simon's words rang out only as Markus' worried glance washed over him, and Markus wished Simon hadn't immediately looked down as he spoke. His words had been rushed, slurred, and he couldn't tell if Simon was telling the truth. That alone made him briefly consider abandoning the mission entirely, but they couldn't turn back now. Furrowing his brow in concentration, he looked over Simon's wound and scanned him for his status. He wasn't stable, nor was his shut-down imminent. He would be alright as long as they got out of there and got him some blue blood quickly. The return to Jericho would be difficult with a wound, but as long as he could walk they shouldn't have any problem getting him there. He hurriedly helped Simon stand up, and he was quick to glance at him, connecting to mentally ask if he really was okay. He received no glance and no reply. Markus knew that he had really let Simon down, and that weighed heavier on the back of his mind than the thought that he had let his people down.

Markus placed his hand atop Simon's as he placed him to lean on the security desk, his other palm lingering as he moved it across the back of Simon's shoulders. He hoped Simon appreciated the gentle show of affection and reassurance. He removed himself from Simon's side, taking a step away and cautiously watching him sway even with his hands planted firmly on the sturdy desk. He paused, probably to North's irritation, waiting for Simon to gain his bearings. Simon turned and swayed again as he did so, his weight unbalanced and shifting over to the hurt side. He was losing blue blood, but his LED shone a comforting yellow, which meant he was relatively stable, but they had to hurry. Markus didn't have any more time to waste. Gripping his gun tightly in his hand and moving quickly down the hallway, Markus prepared to press the button to ring the door to the broadcasting room. He glanced around at his comrades, his eyes briefly meeting Simon's as he looked over his shoulder at him.

The furrow of his brow didn't suit his soft features, nor did the burning something in his eyes. Markus assumed it was resentment, but maybe hatred. He couldn't tell, and Simon would never give him any answer.

With a gentle nod to his team, he pressed the button. The irony of seeing Josh raising a gun against a human wasn't lost on Markus, but he had more important things to do than dwell on it. He ordered the operators aside, watching their planted deviant blink yellow as he did so. A nod from Markus was all it took for the JB300 to shine blue, and he looked forward to thanking him personally for his role in all of this. Markus hadn't been looking when the human shoved Josh to the ground and evaded North's grasp, but he was quick to turn on his heel and raise his gun to their escaped hostage. The man fell as he desperately tried to escape, and although Markus had hoped he would see the gun trained on him and stay down, but he got back up and scurried along further still.

"Shoot him, Markus!" "No, don't kill him!" "He'll hit the alarm--do it!" "No, don't shoot!!"

Markus had meant to make a choice, but he paused too long as he awaited Simon's opinion that he missed his chance before he had even realized. Watching the doors close after the human's retreating form, Markus focused his eyes on his gun before letting it fall to his side. Exasperated, he tried to compose himself before turning around to his three companions. "Hope you didn't just get us all killed."

Markus shot North a pointed glance before settling his eyes on Simon. They held the other's eye contact for a moment, something stirring within Simon that Markus wished he would just say aloud. Is this what he had wanted, to follow the plan to a T? No killing humans, even if it put the rest of their plan--the most important part--in danger? Or was Simon disappointed in him for his choice, or lack thereof?

He made his way to the middle of the room, standing in front of Josh and removing his Stratford hat. He held the brim in his hands for a moment before giving it a toss. The act of flinging the hat proved to calm Markus' heightened nerves every so slightly, but North interrupted his moment of contentment and approached him, demanding his eyes, his attention.

"Think carefully about what you're going to say, Markus. Your words will shape the future of our people."

He already knew the words he was going to say, they had been mulling in his head idly from the moment the plan had started to form. Maybe North had meant to calm him with her words, but they just put him more on edge. Who was he to be the public figurehead for their people as a whole? Was he responsible enough to hold that power in his hands, after getting someone so close to him shot because of some simple fear weighing him down?

But, Markus had a speech to give, so he calmed himself and was prepared to tell Josh he was ready when Simon's voice rang out, muffled and pained. "Markus, your face."

Hearing him speak with such a tone in his voice sent a pang of regret through Markus, but he pushed it down to focus on getting out of here as soon as possible. He glanced at Simon, his eyes settling on the blue blood upon his lips before he quickly looked away. How could he forget something so important? He tried to take North's words to heart and thought over his speech once again as he removed his skin, gently telling Josh he was ready. Markus calmly spoke of peace to the humans. He spoke of their demands for equal rights and the need for justice against android-targeted crimes, as well as the abolishment of their slavery and segregation. Jericho was no home, it had just been a place of refuge and it always would be, and he wanted nothing more than to see his people living happy lives in houses their owned, in houses they worked to maintain. So, their demands were rounded out by their need for places to live, thrive and be free. Markus didn't like to use the word "ask", given the circumstances, but found himself ending his speech with it, anyway. It was more important to end on a note of peace than to fight with the semantics, but he was sure that the humans would feel the brooding storm of revolution under his peaceful words either way.

Markus had only barely finished his speech when Simon's voice rang out, warning them of the incoming raid. Simon and Markus were in the most vulnerable position, and with Simon's wound he was in even more peril. Simon was fast, even when hurt, but the rifles the SWAT team entered with were faster. Markus watched helplessly as Simon was caught in the fire. Keeping behind the center console he watched Simon try to crawl to a safer place, and Markus hadn't meant to repeat the very obvious words of "they're coming", but they left his mouth in the panic of the moment. It was as Simon replied, simply and without emotion telling Markus to leave him behind, that he realized how badly Simon had been shot. His eyes darted to the hole in the center of Simon's chest--too high to have hit his pump regulator, and on the wrong side to have hit his actual thirium pump...but it was a bad wound. There wasn't even a second of hesitation. He was sure Simon hated that he disregarded his words so quickly and so incredibly easily, but he wasn't about to leave him behind. He grabbed him as North and Josh attempted to give them the cover fire they needed to safely retreat onto the roof. With Simon's arm slung over his shoulder and his hand grabbing his tightly, he forced Simon to put his weight into him, pulling him along the wall and attempting to not get either of them shot down in the process. Simon's legs weren't working correctly, and the dead weight was tough to combat in the moment, but they made it to the stairwell. He pulled Simon along, with no intent to hurt him in the process but no consideration against it due to the severity of the situation. He released his grip on Simon and watched as he immediately fell, scrambling to place his back against something for support.

The fear once again washed over him as he got down to Simon's level, eyeing the leg that he watched give way beneath him--the one that he felt be dead weight while he was pulling him to the stairway. Simon confirmed what Markus already knew: he couldn't move it. Either of them. He watched the panic in Simon's eyes, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing.

This wasn't going to work.

"Okay, don't worry." Markus' words deliberately went against what he was thinking in an attempt to ease the panic in Simon's eyes. "We're going to get you back." He couldn't say it while holding eye contact, and he knew avoiding Simon's gaze was the worst thing he could do in the moment, but he couldn't lie directly to him like that. The simple act of looking away nullified the words and any comfort Simon might have been able to find in them.

"They're coming, Markus. We have to jump now."

Markus knew they didn't have much time, and her reiterating it only made him feel himself spiraling more. He stood, quickly taking a few steps away from his companion and leaving him to join the huddle with Josh and North. There was no doubt that Simon heard the exasperated sigh as he moved away, but he only hoped he understood that it was the situation that he was upset with, not him. He felt a pang of remorse as he realized that no, he should be upset with himself. He had been the one who got Simon shot in the first place, and without that first wound throwing him off his balance, he would've been able to sprint to safety that much faster. North and Josh turned their backs to Simon, but Markus wasn't about to cut him out of their huddle. He kept his eyes trained on Simon as Josh and North reinforced how horrible the situation was, chancing to look at them but always returning his gaze to Simon. He caught his eye for just a moment and leaned, fully tilting his head to try to keep it as Simon quickly looked back down at his legs. He couldn't dwell on the despair he had seen for just that moment, but he knew it was something he wouldn't soon forget. Perhaps it was that fear again that made him side with North. In the moment, she was right. He had to shoot Simon to stop the humans from finding out where Jericho was. North claimed that it was up to him, and his eyes sought out Simon to hear his opinion on the matter. Yet there wasn't an opinion for him to give, as he was on the outside of the situation at hand. He was just a liability in this circumstance, and had it been the JB300 operator Markus knew that he would do what had to be done for the sake of their cause.

With a deep breath and a sideways glance to North, Markus stepped away from their huddle and in front of Simon. He looked down at him and did his best to ignored the pang in his chest as Simon didn't return his gaze. He watched Simon staring off, unfocused, for a moment before raising his gun to him. Maybe it'd be better, he thought, if he didn't look at me with those eyes of his.

"I'm sorry, Simon." Markus immediately regretted saying his name as Simon raised his gaze to him, looking past the gun and deep into his soul. "I don't have a choice." The words were more of a justification for himself than for Simon, but Simon's reply caught him off guard nonetheless.

"There is always a choice."

His voice came through clearer than Markus was ready to hear. Simon had spoke tiredly, with clear effort not to slur or waver under Markus. He kept his eyes and his gun trained on Simon, his hand wavering under Simon's gaze. There was no anger, no hatred or disappointment. Markus wished there would have been because it would have made pulling the trigger that much easier to do.

Instead, Markus became lost in their pleading. The snow flitted between them, slowly falling as time seemed to come to a damn near halt. He wished Simon would just tell him what to do--both options felt like the wrong choice for vastly different reasons. He scanned Simon's face for a hint of something, but fear was all he could read from him. It lingered in his eyes, danced upon his brow and reflected from the leaking blue blood on his lips.

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting himself fall back into the moment they had shared with one another. He had been so taken aback by the interest he had perceived in Simon when he was changing. He hadn't meant to act without much thought, but years of watching soap operas with Carl must have really done a number on him. He recalled the touch of their bare lips against each other and he felt the immobilizing fear melt away. Despair took its place, and along with it: love.

Markus' ears tuned back into the world around them, the thuds of the SWAT team trying to brute-force the lock on the roof door meant that they didn't have any more time to think. He let out a held breath, shaking his head and watching as Simon relaxed, ready for him to shoot.

"I won't kill one of our own." Markus caught Simon's eyes as he opened them, but the pleading and the fear were still all that he could see. Holding the gun by its barrel, he held it out for Simon to take. They shared some kind of exchange, their eyes locking fleetingly before Markus had to turn. "Let's go."

「Markus...」

He really had wished Simon hadn't have spoke his name directly, so faint and weak. The voice that echoed through his mind was nothing like the one that spoke a moment ago. It was pitiful, pleading to not be left behind, begging to be dragged along but hesitant to put anyone else in danger for his desires. Markus knew that if anything were to haunt him, it would be the wavering thought of his name as he left Simon alone to deal with an impossible foe on this forsaken tower. Strapping his parachute on, he chanced glancing back at Simon to see that he had moved, watching as he attempted to stand and whisk himself away to hide in a safer area of the roof. He didn't have much time to mourn the hopelessness of the act, as the SWAT team broke through. They had run out of time. Racing to the edge of the roof to jump led to no causalities, even with the team shooting at them from such a close range. If they had tried to shoot their parachutes down, they had failed spectacularly.

The wind took them into its arms, safely carrying them forward as the snow storm obscured them from their pursuers.

The act of flying would have been invigorating had Markus' mind been clear. Instead, the wind howled in his ears, the snow stung his face and the feeling that he had forgotten something--somebody--very important atop the Stratford Tower jolted every nerve in his body.

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awearywritersworld · 4 months

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do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you

sukuna x reader summary: the higher ups succeed in kidnapping you and sukuna doesn't know if he'll get you back alive. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: fluff and angst. reader is kidnapped and gravely injured. depictions of blood. canon typical violence. "good girl". cursing. ft gojo. aged up!yuuji. fem!reader. not canon compliant. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: and finally folks, we've reached the climax of the series. there will only be one more official chapter after this one, so i hope this lives up to expectations. this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it's certainly better when serving as a culmination to the other chapters. i'm a little nervous posting this, so i'd love to hear your thoughts :) series masterlist // masterlist

brontë

sukuna isn't sure at first why the name is familiar, but he soon realizes that a great many of the books on your shelf are authored by women of that name, including jane eyre.

though he finds your copy of wuthering heights, written by an emily brontë, tucked away in the drawer of your nightstand, the headphones you'd asked him grab lying on top of it.

he pulls the book from its spot with care, as the cover is worn and frayed at the edges. flipping through the pages, there are quite a few quotes underlined and countless scribbles in the margins.

while you'd forced him to read jane eyre, he tucks wuthering heights under his arm of his own volition. he isn't sure if it's because you've kept this one separate from the others, or because it might give him an opportunity to know you better, or because he's positive it will make you happy, but he does it all the same.

when he steps back into the living room, he drops your headphones in your lap and takes the seat beside you, wasting no time in beginning the first chapter.

"what've you got there?" you eventually question, even though you know the answer.

he doesn't spare you a glance when he responds, "a book."

"oh, yeah? what kind of book?"

he elects to ignore you, which only serves to encourage your mischievous tone. "i thought romance novels were beneath you and your refined taste."

finally looking at you, he narrows his eyes at your childish taunt. "do you want me to read it or not?"

"of course—"

"then i suggest you be a good girl and behave yourself."

your mouth snaps shut so abruptly that your teeth click as they meet, something sukuna takes note of with a raised brow. you're thankful when he returns to reading rather than saying anything more.

so without any additional interruptions, he delves into the tragic story of heathcliff and catherine. or more precisely, the pain and destruction that follows it.

the further he reads, the better he discerns that while you seem to have a penchant for the brontë sisters, they seem to have a penchant for writing about men that are wicked and callous.

the very notion makes him chuckle.

maybe it explains why he's sitting here with your feet in his lap, while you try and fail (rather cutely) to stifle your giggles at some stupid youtube video.

"what?" you ask, taking out one of your headphones once you notice he's staring at you with a small smile.

"nothing. just enjoying the story."

the way you beam in response makes his mouth go dry.

"hah! i knew it! you're a romantic at heart."

you make a big show of pressing your hands to your chest and swooning.

"settle down there," he chides, his hand patting your thigh. "you're getting ahead of yourself."

two days later, sukuna feels that something isn't quite right. it's barely perceptible, nothing more than a minute shift in the atmosphere, but it grows more palpable as time stretches on.

yuuji's mission takes him farther from home than usual, to a little town about two hours outside of the city.

the curse he exorcises upon his arrival is much weaker than he's grown accustomed to, probably only a third or fourth grade.

yuuji doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least, he pretends not to. sukuna thinks that's the problem with optimists— they don't take action quickly enough, too busy wasting their time hoping for the best.

when he returns home late that afternoon only to find your apartment door slightly ajar, his hand hesitates before pushing it open.

he discovers that the living room is littered with residuals, but it's eerie how nothing else is out of place... save for you, who is no where to be found.

in a disbelieving panic, he begins checking all the rooms, not hearing sukuna's frantic voice even though it's coming from inside his own head. "she's not here... idiot, she's not here. we have to go. we have to go now."

he eventually finds a note lying on the coffee table, but even this he hardly processes— something about surrendering himself and sukuna to the higher ups at headquarters in exchange for your life.

"listen to me, brat... you're wasting time... idiot!"

"what?" he barks abruptly.

"she isn't far, a couple blocks to the east at most—"

"it doesn't matter. headquarters is to the west. that's where we need to go."

"have you failed to comprehend a single thing i've said about the higher ups?" sukuna sneers. "they'll kill us, then kill her too. she knows too much about jujutsu society. they won't let her live, and that's if she's not... if she isn't already..."

he can't get the word out.

"no... no, they wouldn't..."

"now is not the time for your blind faith in the integrity of others." sukuna tries again and again to assume control of his vessel, and while the force behind it makes yuuji's head pound, it's no use. "for fuck's sake— please, yuuji!"

it's the first time he's heard the curse occupying his body say his actual name or use the word please, and in a strange way, it seems to ground him to some degree.

itadori yuuji has always been uncannily fast, but as soon as he makes his way out onto the street, it's like his feet aren't even touching the pavement. he appears as a blur to the people he passes by and it happens so briefly that they more than likely disregard it as a trick of the light.

the ruby decorating your neck leads them right to you, a low hum of frequency that only sukuna can hear.

yuuji comes to a stop in front of an old warehouse building. there are several wooden boards nailed across the main entrance, which splinter and fall to the earth under the impact of his impatient fist.

although the people down the hall quiet themselves upon hearing the crash, he can still sense their energy. he just can't seem to pick up on yours.

maybe sukuna is wrong? maybe you're not here after all.

"no," comes sukuna's voice, cold and hard. "she's here."

he makes his way down the stretch of hallway and to an open door where he stops, both of his feet planting firmly on the ground. everything appears to be frozen as he stares at ten sorcerers who quietly stare back.

it's clear they were not expecting yuuji, but he knows the higher ups assigned so many sorcerers just in case he did somehow figure out where they brought you.

he recognizes many of their faces and even knows some of their names, their familiarity no doubt intended to discourage him from engaging them.

after a few moments, yuuji's eyes land on your figure— motionless on the floor.

he has to admit, the higher up have put together a fairly sound plan. it's just that there's one small detail they failed to account for.

a curious and constraining sensation erupts from the center of his chest, and yuuji doesn't quite understand what's happening until he registers he's no longer the one in control of his body.

the king of curses remains completely still as he studies you from afar with a slight tilt of his head, his mind refusing to believe the scene right before his eyes.

when the gravity of the situation finally settles in, a gut churning agony blossoms in his stomach and bleeds into every part of his body. every bone. every pore. every vein.

the entirety of him burns, both inside and out.

the air in the room is heavy, overburdened with hostility and raw power. it makes the sorcerers' knees buckle and they nearly collapse beneath the immense pressure.

as sukuna takes a step toward the nearest person, the edges of his vision turn white.

he moves with deadly precision, at a speed which very few people on earth could even begin to comprehend.

it's a joke how quickly it's all over.

some of them are in pieces. others have exploded into nothingness. a few are burnt to ash.

in his haste, sukuna nearly misses the final sorcerer. he's probably the youngest of them all, cowering in the corner of the room. his eyes are wide with horror and his body shakes with fear.

"p-please, spare m-me. i didn't touch her," he sputters out.

the laugh that follows is utterly humorless. "do you actually believe that makes a difference to me?"

"i told t-them not to hurt her! i swear. that's how i got this." he points to his bottom lip, busted open and swollen. "she even told me she was sorry that i got hurt... that i didn't have to defend her."

this gives sukuna pause and his jaw clenches as he considers what you would tell him right now were you conscious.

so even as every fiber of his being screams at him to end the sorcerer's miserable, pathetic life... he restrains himself and pins him to the wall instead, pressing a forearm to his throat.

"go back to the higher ups. go and tell them that if anyone lays a hand on her ever again, i will ruin them," he spits, venom lacing each word. "i'll slaughter every last one of them. i'll level their homes. i'll take everything from them. tell them this is a promise they shouldn't take lightly."

when sukuna takes a step back, the young sorcerer crumbles to the ground. "i- i- i will."

"then get out of my sight," he growls.

returning his attention to you, his demeanor shifts in every respect.

you're going to be okay. you're going to wake up. he's going to take you home and it will be like none of this ever happened.

but when he falls to your side, his knees meeting the ground so brutally that it cracks beneath his weight, his conviction falters.

your blood is spilt onto the concrete. your skin is cold. he can't tell if you're breathing. he can't feel your heartbeat.

he determines that the gash across your side deserves his attention first and his hands tremble as they move to cover it.

he puts every ounce of power he has into his reverse cursed technique, but your eyes don't flutter and your chest doesn't rise nor fall.

his palms stain crimson, and while blood has never bothered him before, the fact that it's yours forces the bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat.

and his face is wet.

why is his face wet?

why are his lips trembling?

why is his vision blurred?

he wipes at his cheeks, leaving a trail of your blood across his face in the process.

"no," he chokes out. "please, don't do this. you're fine. please, you have to be fine. please."

the king of curses begs, but he has no idea who his desperation is directed toward. maybe it's you. maybe it's the gods. maybe it's some entity that's unknowable to him.

hell, maybe it's just whoever will listen to him. there has to be someone out there, right? something.

unbeknownst to him, and poetic in sorrowful sort of a way, his next pleas are reminiscent of heathcliff's after he learns of catherine's death.

"be with me always"

"stay with me, angel. please don't go."

"take any form"

"hate me for this if you want, for being the reason you're in this mess. you can't hate me anymore than i already hate myself."

"drive me mad"

"i'll read every single stupid romance novel on your bookshelf. i promise i'll play all of your ridiculous card games."

"only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you!"

"just don't leave me here without you. i don't want to be here without you.

"oh, god! it is unutterable!"

"please," he whimpers.

"i cannot live without my life!"

"you're everything. you are everything. you can't leave me with nothing."

"i cannot live without my soul!"

"i love you," sukuna laments. "i love you."

he doesn't even comprehend the words that have been tumbling past his lips, because they're coming from a part of himself that he long believed to be dead and buried.

it's the part of him that can feel suffering and regret and loss and love.

it's the part of him that you've been painstakingly unearthing whenever you send a smile his way. whenever you curl into his side. whenever you press your lips to his.

and he's so undeserving of it each and every time. he's known that. god, has he known that.

he thinks bitterly of the night you'd walked to the park together hand in hand— when you told him the universe had sent you to knock him down a peg.

turns out you were wrong.

the universe gave you to him, but only so it could take you away too.

and it won't just knock him down a peg. it will fucking destroy him. it will completely and irrevocably destroy him.

this is what he does deserve.

how is it that you can be both his salvation and his undoing?

"i love you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

it's ironic that the three words he's never once said in his entire life are the only ones he can manage in this moment.

he hears a quiet sigh escape your lips, but he knows that it's just his imagination— nothing more than the universe playing its final sick joke.

the sun is out and its rays are peeking through the window of your bedroom. sukuna thinks it's despicable.

everything should be cold and dark today.

you're lying in bed half dead and the only thing keeping sukuna's sanity intact is the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

he should go to jujutsu headquarters and deliver a slow, painful death to every single person involved in yesterday's events. then he should turn their headquarters to ash and stand there watching until the wind blows every last bit away.

but more than that, he should be by your side, so that's where he's remained.

it's been nearly a day and you still haven't woken up, so he's taken to performing reverse cursed technique on you every few hours.

yuuji had shoko come by last night and she assured him your body just needs time, but sukuna doesn't intend on taking any chances. aside from the brat, there isn't a single sorcerer he trusts.

so naturally when gojo teleports directly in the middle of your living room unannounced, sukuna moves swiftly to his feet and blocks the doorway to your room.

gojo regards him nonchalantly, hiding his surprise that yuuji is not the one to greet him. "what are you doing... out and about?"

"that's none of your concern."

"right. well, i came to check in."

"that's not necessary."

the two men watch one another carefully, before gojo eventually chuckles. "god, you actually care about her. i guess the whole soul thing should have been proof enough, but i couldn't bring myself to really believe it until now."

sukuna doesn't respond, so the other man continues. "you should know that the threat to her has been... dealt with."

"that so?" sukuna asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mhmmm. word of this spread to the three clans and they agreed civilians have no place in jujutsu politics if it can be helped. not to mention your little... messenger. it all caused quite the ruckus for the higher ups."

"i don't think ruckus is enough to deter them." his tone makes it clear that he feels gojo is wasting his time.

"this isn't the heian era anymore, you know. the higher ups may still be the figureheads of jujutsu society, but they have little say when all three clans concur on a matter." receiving nothing more than a blank stare, he adds, "besides, i'm rather fond of her myself, so i may or may not have made certain threats of my own."

sukuna's eye twitches. "anything else you feel compelled to share before you leave?"

"can i at least see her before i go?" gojo questions, peering over sukuna's shoulder.

"if you do not value your life, i welcome you to try."

a sly grin breaks out on gojo's face.

"eager to make good on your promise of killing me from all those years ago?" he pauses, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if he's pondering something of great importance. "as much as i'd love to see you try, we shouldn't wake our precious sleeping beauty before she's ready, so maybe another time."

with that, he disappears, leaving a very irritated sukuna in his wake.

"our," he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. "that unbearable imbecile."

when he turns on his heel, however, the malicious look is immediately wiped from his face because you're awake.

you're awake and peering at him from behind heavy lids.

"hey," you greet in a small voice.

his eyes grow impossibly soft and he sits on the bed beside you, his hand moving to caress your cheek. your skin is warm again.

"hey, angel."

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#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk angst #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna angst

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atdawn · 7 months

Photo

MERLIN | 4.08 Lamia

#bbc merlin #merlin #colin morgan #merlingifs #syfysource #tvedit #smallscreensource #userashley #magical (gay) angst #m #ee #gifs #408

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voxmortuus · 11 months

Note

Yooo! Lol I’m here to make a small request maybe just to see how you think Hannibal would handle a situation lol like literally just a Drabble would be fine 🫶🏼

Alright, what would he say if his S/O (male pref) asked him “Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Bonus points if his S/O asks stupid questions like this all the time so he’s used to it, LMAO poor Hannibal

►PAIRING: Hannibal X Male!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Hannibal ►WORDS: 1.6k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: See Above. ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: No warnings | I may be missing some, but you get a general idea, so please proceed with caution if there is anything in there that is overly triggering please let me know politely and I will make sure it is added to the list. ►NOTE: Hannibal and Hannibal Character requests are closed. All other requests are open. Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa

"No. I gotta know! If I was a worm, would you still love me?" you ask.

Shaking his head with a chuckle he thinks a moment. "But what if I was a bird, I'd eat the worm."

"That's not the question nor a valid answer."

"Oh but it is, what if I was the bird that ate the worm."

"You're no fun." you pout a moment.

He chuckles and he watches you a moment. Putting some thought into it he tilts his head. "Well I'd make sure you'd have a nice little compost pile... only the best foods."

"That's better. So, how do you think you'd handle me if I was a puddle of putty?" you ask.

He tilts his head and shakes it again with a slight chuckle. "Where are these questions coming from?" he asked you.

With a rather proud smile. "They came from my brain place. Now. Back to the putty question."

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klausysworld · 4 months

Text

His Favourite Little Hybrid

Klaus had been away in Portland, Oregon to find and turn werewolves into his own personal hybrids. The trip had been far more successful than his one with Stefan which further proved that should he need things done efficiently, doing them alone was better.

So far he had 19 hybrids, turned and sired to his every word.

Klaus's pride was running high and his ego inflamed as he snapped the neck of the young women who had just taken a sip from his bloody wrist and let her body drop. It took a few minutes for her to reawaken, eyes bloodshot and stomach clenching in starvation. Klaus watched as her eyes darted to meet his, her head immediately bowing in both fear and submission. Slowly he crouched down to where she lay and slipped his hand to her jaw, lifting her face to look at her properly.

"That's a good girl" He murmured as she followed his gaze and crawled closer to him making the original smirk. Silently he held out his hand for one of the other hybrids to place a blood bag of doppelgänger blood in his grasp. Klaus brought it to her lips and tipped it down her throat. Without warning the girl began to gag and splutter, coughing the blood straight back out and onto Klaus's shirt. His face pulled to one of confusion and anger as he watched her panic. As soon as the realisation kicked in that she had spat it out on her sire she became overwhelmed with fear. Her emotions were peaked and she desperately tried to scrub the blood away with her hands. Klaus pulled her hands off of him, shushing her apologetic cries and telling her to calm down which she did without comprehension.

Klaus lifted her up with ease and sat down on a camping chair with her in hold. "It's alright love" He mumbled, "we'll figure out why that didn't work." he convinced though he wasn't quite sure what was wrong. Every other wolf had adapted to the transition almost immediately. He allowed her to curl against him as he thought for a moment on what could possibly have gone wrong, she drank his blood and died and then drank Elena's. That was all that was needed.

With a frustrated sigh he stood up and sat her down in the chair. "I'll be back" he muttered before walking back toward the portable cooler filled with Elena's blood. Footsteps followed him and he turned to find the same almost-hybrid looking up at him like a lost puppy. She clutched onto his bloody henley as he walked, staying close while he pulled out another bag of blood.

"Try this one love" He commanded, handing it to her with curiosity. Without question she did as she was told and took a gulp but her face immediately paled and Klaus quickly stepped to the side as she coughed it back out. The frown on his face deepened and he bent down to her height whilst his hand rest on the small of her back. "You are a werewolf aren't you love?" He asked, confused. She nodded with a sniffle and glanced up at him,

"I'm sorry" she whimpered but he shook his head.

"I don't believe this is your fault" he replied, his mind whirling with questions

"Will I die?" She asked quietly, weakly.

"No sweetheart. No I'll find what you need" He mumbled, "stay here, don't run off, understand?"

She nodded in reply and sat down onto the dirty ground. She was most definitely sired, he just didn't understand why she couldn't accept the blood. He was on the phone to witches in a fit of anger and a list of questions. Much to his disappointment and annoyance, nobody had an answer.

He returned to the girl empty handed, he found her lead against the same spot he left her in, skin slowly going grey as she trembled from the cold that she shouldn't have been able to feel. Klaus bent down beside her, his hand gently stroking her hair. He felt diminished by her dying. He had no way of overcoming or understanding it and she very clearly just wanted him to help her. It was bizarre how easily she had accepted his dominance, the other hybrids although sired still resisted. It was only when his wrist went over her face as he pet her head that she peeked her heavy eyes open.

The hunger returned within milliseconds and little veins scattered under her eyes. A small whine left her as sharp fangs alongside her werewolf canines pushed through her gums. Klaus's brows pulled together in intrigue as he presented his wrist for her teeth. With his permission she latched into him, her hands lifting to grab ahold of his hand so he couldn't pull away while she fed. Klaus's head tilted slightly and his lips parted as the intimate sensation of blood sharing shuddered throughout his body. Her tongue licked at his skin as she pulled herself off him and accepted his assistance when standing up.

She held onto his arm as he lead her through the woods, he called for the others to follow as he got to his car. It took a while and a lot of stolen borrowed vehicles to get back to Mystic Falls. He put his hybrids to work, including his last one: Y/n her name turned out to be and she was more than happy to do as he said.

The other hybrids could already see the favouritism that Klaus had for Y/n and turned on her because of it. She quickly fell to the bottom of this 'pack' though she never went to Klaus about it and whenever he was around, the others behaved how he would like so that he wouldn't suspect their bullying.

Klaus would have to stop by every day, to see the progress of his home but also to feed Y/n who relied solely on his blood. She was a clingy little thing but also most obedient and most eager so he didn't mind.

Once he moved in, he told his hybrids to compel themselves apartments or hotels, whatever they wanted. However nobody had taught Y/n what compelling was or how to do so and she was afraid to ask, besides she just wanted to be near her sire. So she would simply not rest and would hide in the mansion, being quiet down in the cellar so Klaus wasn't disturbed when he was painting or being entertained by a woman.

For some reason it hurt Y/n that her sire slept with other women, in her mind it meant that he didn't think she was enough for him. Why hadn't he asked her to satisfy him? She didn't understand but she knew that it made her feel worthless, empty.

It took weeks for Klaus to realise Y/n had been staying in the cellar at night. He had gone down to grab a bottle of wine for his... guests when he spotted his sweetest little hybrid leaning against the cold brick wall. Eyes closed and chest slowly moving with each deep breath.

"Y/n, love?" He called gently, kneeling down and gently reaching for her arm. Her eyes flew open in alarm and she flinched away from his touch causing her head to smack the back of the wall. Klaus hissed as though he could feel her pain and pulled her into his lap. "Sh sh, it doesn't hurt sweetheart" he told her and just like that, the pain was gone. He held the back of her head gently and kissed her temple softly. "Forgive me my lovely. I didn't mean to frighten you, nor cause you pain" he apologised, still frowning even as he felt her calm down. "Why are you down here sweet girl?" Klaus questioned, his tone kind.

"Sleeping" She mumbled, rubbing her eyes with a small stretch "Is it morning?"

"No, love. Why are you sleeping down here?" He asked, confused and concerned.

Y/n looked up at him in response and hesitantly opened her mouth. She was unable to lie to her sire but embarrassment made her resist "I don't want to tell you" she whimpered quietly and he tilted his head. Klaus opened his mouth to speak but the sound of drunken giggling echoed down the stairs drawing his attention and making Y/n move away from him and back to her corner.

Two girls made their way down into the cellar, asking for Klaus to come back upstairs. One of them spotted Y/n on the ground and teased that she could join them making Klaus's wolf growl warningly under the surface. "That won't be necessary" He dismissed as he pulled Y/n to her feet. Klaus proceeded to compel both girls to go home without the memory of ever meeting him.

"Come on love" he encouraged, taking her hand and guiding her up the stairs before going up again and leading her to his bedroom though she hesitated to sit down on his bed when he asked her to and he noticed her reluctance. "What's wrong?" He asked but she shook her head and sat down on the edge.

Klaus bent down and pecked the top of her head sweetly before pulling open his drawers and grabbing an old shirt. Y/n's cheeks went pink when he began to undress her. The room was quiet as he pulled the top over her head and slid her bra out from underneath it. His hands were careful with where he touched before tossing her clothes away and pulling back the covers.

"In you get my love, you need a proper rest if you've been sleeping down in the cellar." He ordered, smiling when she did as he said and curled up against the mattress and snuggling the duvet when he wrapped it round her. His warmth enveloped her as he slipped in behind her, his body wrapping around hers protectively. Something about having his favourite little hybrid cuddled up in his bed made his body hum softly and for her, having her sire, her master holding her so close made her feel content.

They fell asleep quickly and slept solidly throughout the night. Y/n woke when the sun did, and slowly turned to face Klaus's sleeping face. A blush overtook her soft cheeks as she nuzzled to him for comfort and remained there until he woke.

Klaus let her feed from him before telling her to do as she pleased for the day while he took care of his own business.

Night and night she found herself in his bed, in his arms. When she didn't come to him, he came to find her and bring her back. Klaus could feel his affections for his hybrid beginning to grow. She had no ill intentions and was utterly lovely, always obedient and never failed to please him. Y/n was, by far, his favourite little hybrid.

The others knew this and hated her for it. Klaus was cruel to his other hybrids and treated them like puppets while whispering pretty little things into Y/n's ear and petting her hair like she was the most delicate flower in the world.

Even when Stefan was threatening Klaus to send his hybrids away, he wasn't stupid enough to bring Y/n into it. In fact he tried to compromise.

"You can keep the small one" Stefan offered making Klaus narrow his eyes. "You know which one I mean. The pretty one, Y/n right?" he pressed and Klaus's gaze hardened. "She can stay, she's harmless but I want the rest need to be gone by morning"

"Or what?" Klaus questioned, his anger rising. "Or I'll get rid of them, and her." He finished before disappearing.

Klaus was furious and even more so when he found that Y/n had been listening and was now terrified that she would die. Of course it was easy enough for him to calm her down but knowing that Stefan had upset her so much made his rage rise. With much reluctance he sent his other hybrids away and kept Y/n inside at all times.

Over the next week Klaus was tense all of the time as he grew more and more frustrated as a result of still not having his coffins back. Y/n tried her best to be there for him but sometimes he frightened her and she would go down into the cellar to be out of the way.

It was only because Klaus needed a drink that he went down there again and found her asleep on the floor again. His anger left him and he carried her back up to his room with a small frown etched into his face. Her body curled to his automatically as he lay against her again and he promised to be kinder to her.

Eventually he got his family back and thought he could relax however Elijah turned out to be undaggered. He had appeared infront of Klaus and behind Y/n, Klaus could immediately sense the danger over his girl and had Elijah by the throat before he could smack Y/n's head off her shoulders. The two brothers threw each other across the room, smashing the furniture and ruining the downstairs. Y/n was hidden behind one of the sofas, her claws extended and clinging onto a pillow as she squeezed her eyes shut to block out the urge to save her sire. Klaus had commanded that should someone attack, she must hide which went directly against her instincts as his hybrid.

Eventually Klaus and Elijah calmed some what and were both stood panting heavily. Elijah glanced toward the soft sniffles and so did Klaus. Elijah noticed his brothers expression drop and his legs carry him over to the source of the cries.

"It's okay love" he whispered, picking her up "Don't be afraid" he told her, looking down at her eyes to watch the fear drain from them. She remained tense and on edge but the tears stopped and he was able to wipe them away. Elijah approached making Klaus growl warningly and place Y/n behind him protectively "Not her." he stated with no space more questions. "Y/n go to bed. I'll be there soon, I want you to relax" He ordered and she nodded, running upstairs and into his room.

He spoke with Elijah about their fathers demise and how their mother was still being held by the Salvatores as leverage. They spoke of a lot before Klaus explained Y/n's being here.

"She's sired to you" Elijah stated and Klaus nodded

"Of course she is, she's my hybrid" he answered

"And she sleeps with you?" Elijah questioned

"Not like that, we just sleep" Klaus mumbled and his brother nodded unconvinced

"Niklaus... you remember what happened the last time a girl was sired to you..." Elijah murmured with furrowed brows, concern swirling in his eyes at Klaus's intentions.

"I don't make Y/n do anything she doesn't want to." He snapped back, offended by the accusation

"You might not mean to-"

"I have not touched her!" The original hybrid yelled, getting to his feet.

"Niklaus." Elijah sighed, rising to follow his temperamental sibling. "This girl does not know what she feels or wants. She just knows she has to make you happy. It's clear you care for her, I don't believe you want to bring her displeasure however you must understand how easy it would be to do something with her that she doesn't truly desire."

"She's my hybrid, mine. I won't have you meddling and scaring her." He muttered before heading up the stairs to lay with his girl and assure that she was safe and in his hold.

Klaus kept her away from Elijah as his feelings progressed. Without thinking, every now and then Klaus would peck Y/n's lips in greeting or goodbye. Y/n wouldn't dare question it, she loved the attention and affection he gave her and wouldn't ever ask for it to stop. Soft touches became more common, a hand on her thigh or waist as he shifted closer to her. Often he would need her to be in his lap and listening to his plans while he twirled her hair in between his fingers and brushed his hands across her skin subtly to sooth his wolf.

But when Hayley came into town, staying with Tyler and helping the other hybrids break their sire bonds, Klaus began to pull away a little. He found himself busy more and more in search for the cure, keeping Rebekah at bay and dealing with supernatural vampire hunters.

The other hybrids knew Y/n wouldn't want to break her sire bond. They knew she would run to her master and tell him what they've been doing. So they left her in the dark again.

Y/n began to feel more and more isolated. Klaus told her to not go outside without him there but he was almost never home and with everyone else pretending she didn't exist, she had gotten much lonelier.

Despite Klaus compelling her to not feel sadness or negative things, the feeling still lingered in the back of her mind. No matter how hard she tried to comply with his commands and only be happy, the lack of touch, socialisation and most importantly her sires affection or approval began to take its toll. When Klaus forgot to feed her his blood, she began to fade. Klaus would often forget about her when he was busy, he didn't mean to and as soon as he had a moment to he would give her some attention but that became more and more rare the past few weeks.

It was because of this that she was far too weak to fight off the other hybrids when they chained her up in the cellar, when they forced wolvesbane down her throat before stuffing a vervain drenched cloth into her mouth so she couldn't yell out for help. None of them looked even the slightest bit guilty or remorseful as they left, planning to kill Klaus.

Unfortunately for them, Klaus was far more powerful and tore each one of them apart. As he approached the twelfth hybrid, only one question lingered on his mind.

"Where is Y/n?" He seethed. He had naturally assumed that she too had betrayed him and didn't understand how she could do so. The hybrid only shook their head,

"She would never help us" they rasped and Klaus's gaze softened for a second.

"Where?" He repeated

"Home" they whispered before having their head swiftly removed.

Klaus tore his home apart in search of his girl, it only occurred to him that she would be in the cellar after he had smashed every piece of furniture on the middle floor. Without hesitation he sped down there.

His heart stopped as he watched her sob on the ground, her face was covered by the cloth but he could see and hear the sizzling of her skin. Hurriedly he sped over and knelt beside her, ripping the gag out of her mouth and allowing her broken screams to break free while he broke the chains off of her throat and wrists.

"I'm so sorry" he whispered, tearing his own wrist open and pushing it to her mouth. Her cries were muffled as he pulled her into his lap and poured his mouth down her swollen throat. Klaus kissed her forehead repeatedly whilst encouraging her to keep drinking even after her wounds were healed. She went quiet after a while and pulled away from both his arm and him. Klaus pulled her back to him and brought her lips to his. Y/n couldn't help the tears that dropped again as her sire kissed her so deeply.

His hands held her face gently as he urged her mouth open so that he may express his love for her in the ways he knew how to. He needed her to stay with him, to never leave him.

Passion was poured from him to her as he brought her upstairs to their bed, she was laid down on her back while he leant over her. It was only when he finally let her lips free from his that she was able to notice the sheer amount of blood that soaked through his suit and stained his skin. Her expression changed to one of worry as her hands felt for any injuries.

"It's alright love" He murmured softly, kissing her hands softly "It isn't mine" he explained and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. The others had been cruel to her even before Klaus. She was seen as the runt of the pack. She was gullible and docile. She had no characteristics of a werewolf and didn't belong with them. They deserved it, she knew that but she couldn't use their death to mark her relationship with Klaus.

Klaus felt her withdrawal and looked down at her with a soft sigh. A soft kiss was pressed to her cheek before he moved off her and stood back up. Y/n sat up before getting off the bed and following him into the bathroom. She helped him wash the blood away from his skin despite the way it made her gag and squirm. Eventually they went to sleep with the promise of each others comfort for the times to come.

They remained close and Klaus grew some how more protective until the only way it could be described was as possessive. He couldn't imagine her ever being in so much pain again, it was so strong that it broke her compulsion of his. Klaus had only compelled Y/n to block out any negative emotions because he didn't like that she would feel so sad or think lowly of herself. It was the only way he thought would help. However it also meant that she was always thinking so positively of him, even when he did something truly awful.

It made her sirebond grow as well as her affections until she was convinced that she was truly in love with him. She thought he loved her back. He did, but the memory of Elijahs words spun round his head. He couldn't take advantage of their bond, he wouldn't hurt her or violate her, he just couldn't. So he tried to distract himself. He had told her to go out for once and have some fun.

While she was gone, Hayley Marshall came over to negotiate some information. One thing lead to another and he had her against a wall, cock buried inside her and clothes on the floor. His eyes were closed as he pictured Y/n's face while he fucked the werewolf until she screamed.

Under no circumstances in his head, had Y/n come back so early.

It was completely unexpected. She had bumped into Damon Salvatore who had both scared and upset her in a short amount of time making her want her sire for some comfort.

Her hope was soon diminished when she pushed the doors open and saw such a scarring scene. Klaus had only broken out of his thoughts when Hayley let out a squeak and whispered for him to stop. He lifted his head in confusion before catching sight of a horrified Y/n. quickly she spun round and sped away making Klaus yell out. He pulled out of Hayley, muttering an apology as he dragged his trousers back on and running after his sweet girl.

He found her back down in the cellar once again.

Klaus knew she wouldn't understand. He also knew that she shouldn't have to try to. He could feel the guilt filling him and he hugged her to his chest and felt her body tremble with whimpers as she tried to push those negative feelings away.

"It's okay my lovely, you can feel angry and upset now" He whispered, prepared for her to yell or fight at him but she only cried. She cried for so long that he wondered how she had any tears left to give.

She had been both traumatised and heart broken all at once but she also knew that he was the only one that could calm her, soothe her soul. So she tried to pretend that it hadn't happened.

Klaus tried as well but he could see the hurt in her eyes constantly. He had explained to her that it wasn't because he didn't love her, that he was so sorry and that he never wanted her to feel that way. She just shook her head and said she was being silly, they weren't together and neither of them had asked to change that. Had she of been any other girl perhaps he wouldn't have cared so much but she was his little hybrid and he couldn't believe the pain he had caused.

Klaus tried his best to spend time with her and make her smile but he wasn't so sure if she was smiling because she wanted to or because she knew that he wanted her to.

He began to wonder that about a lot of things. If she was just doing things because he wanted her to.

The one thing he knew that she definitely did like for herself was physical affection. So he made extra effort in doing so. It didn't take long for her to be curled against his side again, head on his chest and her hands in his while they watched a movie together.

Things sweetened for a small time before they soured once more.

Only this time it wasn't changeable.

Hayley was pregnant with Klaus's baby. Apparently they had still both had a good enough time before Y/n's interruption that night.

Y/n's light dulled when she found out. She was very conflicted. Part of her hated that Klaus was having a baby with somebody else, part of her put herself at fault for not offering herself to him so that he hadn't turned to another girl in the first place and the last part of her, the sired part, told her to be quiet and supportive. She should be seeing how she could help and promising to put her life on the line for this child.

Y/n tried so hard to do that.

But the other Mikaelsons weren't very grateful nor nice to her or her help. Hayley only felt awkward about her and any other supernaturals were uncomfortable in a hybrids presence.

It took months for her to pluck up the courage but eventually she went to Klaus.

"I think maybe I should go?" She whispered quietly, drawing his attention away from his painting.

"Go where sweetheart?" he questioned, his features twisting to a frown.

"I don't know...I just...I think that maybe I shouldn't be here anymore?" She murmured, eyes on the ground and her head screaming 'no'.

"Why not love?" He asked, putting his brush down.

"You don't really need me any more... you have all those vampires and stuff. Plus the baby will be here soon and well...I'd probably be in the way so.." she trailed, her words quiet and unsure.

Klaus could tell as she spoke that this was her way of saying that she couldn't watch him play house with another women. Especially since they still hadn't progressed their relationship. He understood that he was somewhat stringing her along, it was just that he didn't want to let go. But now he knew that he had to.

And so, with much reluctance, he agreed.

"If that's what you want" He whispered, stepping close to her. She nodded hesitantly and felt herself go rigid as his arms enveloped her before she softened and melted against him.

Over the next couple days, he had witches finding a way to help her digest human blood, he set her up a bank account and some identification so that she may start fresh wherever she chose to before having to do something he never wanted to do. Unfortunately the only way for her to be able to move away and on with her life without feeling such terrible guilt for leaving her sire or the urge to come back to him was for her to forget that he existed.

Klaus watched as she looked up at him in confusion before apologising and explaining that she was in a rush to get to the airport and wasn't looking where she was going. He told her it was okay and that she should try be careful to which she smiled and agreed before continuing on her journey, leaving Klaus to wonder where it may take her.

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