#or is this like. them trying to figure out what the hell is going on with their relationship

[lilislegacy]

I love the idea of Percy becoming a marine veterinarian. Not because it would be easy, but because it wouldn’t be easy.

It would sound great and all, until he gets to vet school. And day 1 all he can think is “what the hell was I thinking?” This is all science. And most of vet school is about mammals, especially dogs, and he has to take specialty programs on the side for sea animals. He likes dogs and cats, and it is interesting, but that’s not why he’s here. Annabeth tells him to just learn as much as he can. So he does his best. He gets tutoring on the side. He makes good friends, and that helps a lot, but everyone there seems so much smarter than him. But annabeth and his friends help him study. He tries and he tries and he tries. He loves the marine animal programs he does. He thinks it’s so cool learning how sea animals function, and how the ocean/environment affects them. But the standard veterinary school course material is difficult for him to stay focused on. His grades aren’t the best, but he gets through it.

And after 3 years, he gets handed a white coat and stethoscope. And he feels like an imposter. He’s not a doctor! He’s not a healer like children of apollo. He’s not a genius like children of athena. He’s percy. This feels wrong. It feels good, and he’s proud of himself, but it also feels wrong.

Then his first day of residency, at a marine animal clinic, he is walking through his little orientation with the fellow residents and the attending vets. The first room they bring him into has a large water tub with a sea turtle in it. It’s not moving. It looks so sick and miserable. The head vet says that they’ve had this turtle for several months and just can’t figure out what’s wrong. She won’t eat, she won’t interact with other animals, she barely opens her eyes. They have decided to put her out of her misery, and tomorrow she will be euthanized. Percy steps away from the group and asks to approach her. He goes up to her, bends down, and put his hand on her shell. He telepathically asks what’s wrong, and she responds “My head. My head hurts so bad all the time. Ever since having my babies. It hurts to swim. It hurts to be in the light. I feel sick always. Please make the pain go away.” And Percy stands up and starts asking the attending vets questions about her history and her treatments. At first he panics because he doesn’t know what to do. But then he realizes… he does know what to do. He leaned this! So he suggests a treatment. Most of the vets in the room laugh or give him a doubtful look, but he begs them to try it anyway. So they do it, and within half an hour, this sweet sea turtle is happily swimming around the tub. She’s popping her head up to say hi. She’s even eating.

The other vets tried for months. No tests showed what was wrong. But Perseus Jackson walked in, spent two minutes staring at her, and cured her. Because he has powers that no one else has. The other vets only know how to read and observe signs, but Percy can listen to their symptoms.

And after that, every second of learning about animal anatomy and physiology was worth it. Because HE just got to save a sea turtle’s life. HIM!!

And that is why Percy Jackson very quickly becomes one of the best marine veterinarians in the field.

#screw all his teachers who said he was a lost cause #screw everyone who ever called him dumb #screw all the schools he got kicked out of #because percy jackson is the best marine vet the world has ever seen #percy jackson #percy’s career #pjo #heroes of olympus #pjo headcanon #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #marine vet percy

[drabblesandimagines]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy mild spice

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 7 - Condemnation~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you try to cope with Alastor's absence, you find solace with the King of Hell, who presents an interesting offer. However, some unexpected news from Husk forces you to rethink your plans.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, Lucifer is a cunning shit, slow burn, Husk is going to be in trouble, and of course 18+

3.2k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

The last few days (weeks?) have been a blur. It was a weird switch going from sleeping terribly because you longed to be near him - to sleeping constantly so you didn’t have to feel your body long from him. Anyone who came to your door was just told you weren’t feeling good. “Just caught a stomach bug, don’t come in! I would hate for you to catch it.”

Today you decided it’s time to finally leave your room. Charlie needs help and there are things around the hotel that need to be done before her meeting with Heaven. You aren’t one to let others down just because of your own emotional baggage.

You throw some makeup on to try to brighten your face. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered but all the crying significantly darkened your eyes. I’d rather not let them see me like this. The less questions the better. Plastering a smile on your face, you head down to the lobby to get the list of ‘to-dos’ from Charlie. Surprisingly she isn’t there when you arrive, so you take a seat next to Angel on the floor. You lean your head against his leg as a silent ‘hello’.

“Hey toots, how ya feeling?” he says without looking up from his phone. “Better, thanks.” You say cheerfully.

“Good! Guess you and Smiles must have shared cooties ‘cause he ain’t been seen or heard from since Lucifer’s visit.” A pang hits your chest, but you try to brush it off. He’s probably just pissed off.

Charlie rushes down the stairs and scoops you into a lung crushing hug, “So so so soooooooo glad you’re feeling better! I didn’t realize how much you did around here! Could you do me a huge favor and go pick up a few things from the city and take them to my dad? He said he can meet you at this address. I have to go pack - Thank you!” Just as quickly as she came down the stairs, she hurries back, leaving you with a short list and an address.

For the first time in weeks, you leave the hotel without Alastor or his shadow close by. It’s not that you’re afraid of going out alone, but you realize you enjoyed his company more than you thought. You glance up at the radio tower as you walk away from the hotel and can make out a dark figure with glowing red eyes staring down from the window. Well at least that’s confirmation he’s still around.

You pick up the few things from a local shop and walk across the city to the address Charlie gave you. This doesn’t look right. The building you walk up to is more of an abandoned warehouse for a drug deal rather than a cozy meetup with the King of Hell. Cautiously you walk through the door which looked like it had been kicked in already. Just as expected, it’s an empty building with piles of trash scattered about. Graffiti and posters plaster the inner walls. You triple check the address on the small paper and it matches.

Sooo now what?

After waiting and pacing for a few minutes, you hear someone call out to you. You turn to see Lucifer standing outside a portal in the middle of the building.

“You didn’t actually think I stayed within the city, did you?” he chuckles as he motions for you to enter into the portal with him. Once inside you look around to see a large open room filled with…ducks? And this guy was trying to give me a hard time?

“Is – is this your office, sir?”

He boots a few ducks out of his path. “Yes, this is where I work on – important – matters. Also, no need for formalities, Lucifer is fine. Those bags for me?”

You almost forgot why you were even standing in the King’s office. All the piles of rubber ducks grabbed your attention and now you wanted to look through them out of pure curiosity. Handing over the bags, you keep scanning around the room. Lucifer notices your curious glances, “Would you – like to see my most recent project?” he asks nervously. You feel your face light up at the offer and he can’t help but mirror your excitement.

He starts to show you all the ducks he’s created, their names, what they can do. His eyes glimmer excitedly every time you display even the slightest interest in one. What feels like a mere fifteen minutes ends up becoming a couple hours. As he shows you the last of his collection, a solemn look crosses his face.

“Thank you for this. I don’t get a lot of visitors and haven’t really been able to share my work since Charlie…grew up. Plus, it’s nice to see you smile, especially after our first encounter.”

Your breath catches at the memory of that night. Not so much the crying in the arms of the devil part - rather the grief you felt shortly after. “Oh – thank you for taking the time to show me. Truthfully, I haven’t had much reason to smile lately so it’s a lovely change.”

His smile drops. There's a long pause as he fights with himself to find the right words, “Did he…Alastor I mean…hurt you that night? You can tell me. I know Charlie is close with him, so you probably don’t feel comfortable -”

“He didn’t hurt me. At least not in the physical sense.” Frowning, you curse at yourself for being too honest. You can’t help but feel at ease in his presence. He was Lucifer, King of Hell and easily the most powerful in all the seven rings. What ulterior motives could he possibly have or need? He has no reason to be anything other than genuine in his worry for you. He made it all too easy to tell him anything. Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord/Demon

He looks at you pitifully. I hate when someone looks at me like that. “I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” You force a smile then hang your head towards the floor to hide the truth. The wounds were too fresh. The last thing you want is another breakdown in front of him. He’s seen enough tears from me. 

Two fingers pull your chin up to his gaze, “Your eyes tell me a much different story. Tell me, does he know of your power?” he asks delicately.

Weird, Alastor never really asked me to show him what I could do. He always just said he could ‘sense’ it. Your brows gather at the realization, “Not exactly. He knows I have it, just not what I can do fully.”

He lets go of you with a sigh of relief, “Probably for the best.”

“Wait, do you – “

“I do not know, though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little curious. You must have something special to survive down here.” He flashes a devilish grin that makes heat rise to your cheeks.

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have. Can’t hurt for the King to know, right? “Well you were gracious enough to show me your special collection. Let me show you something that’s special to me in return.”

Taking his hand, you lead him to his chair and motion for him to sit down. “Do you have anything sharp?” you ask. He hesitates slightly before grabbing a small knife from his workbench.

“So - I don’t know how this will work with the whole ‘fallen angel’ thing but...trust me?”

His worried eyes are surpassed by a warm smile, nodding for you to continue. You kneel in front of him and take his hand palm side up, “Sorry, this might hurt a little.” He flinches as you slice into his skin and golden fluid gushes from the wound. I didn’t know angelic blood was so beautiful.

Flipping his hand over, you press your lips to his knuckles. A hiss leaves your throat from the sting as the cut heals and blood disappears. Lucifer pulls his hand away to inspect his palm. “Wow…that is…..definitely something,” he breathed in amazement. His hands find yours as he stands to help you up from the floor, but he doesn't let go. Eyes widened in curiosity, “Do you feel anything when it happens?”  

You shrug, “Depends on the wound. Stuff like that just stings. Other times it feels like my body is getting ripped apart.”

Lucifer hums, drawing nervous little circles in your palms with his thumbs, “The gift of healing is something truly amazing.” He seems to lose himself in thought but continues to ghost across your skin. The light touch from his tracing sends you into full body chills.

“You're beautiful.” he whispers under his breath.

You catch his attention to pull him out of his own mind. “I’m sorry?”

“IT’S beautiful - the gift. I mean you’re beautiful too I just - I mean …” You try to hide your giggles as he continues to stammer like a schoolboy. It was refreshing to see him flustered like this, vulnerable and unsure of himself. He stops to take a breath and recollect his thoughts, “I'm sorry I’m just trying to figure out what you, of all people, could possibly want or need from that…demon.” His voice sharpened bitterly at the word. He really likes to poke the sore subjects doesn’t he.

“I didn’t need anything. And I wanted…it doesn’t matter what I wanted. He made his intentions clear that night that I was only some tool for him. He never cared. And I knew better but yet here I am - “

“Heartbroken…?” 

Tears swell in your eyes as he said the word. Uhg not again…Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show. 

Lucifer wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you against him. He softly presses a kiss to your forehead then to each cheek, taking your fallen tears with his lips. Your body freezes at the sudden affection. This feels wrong…

“Look, I know things are getting bad out there, but I can promise you safety - true safety. You can stay here. Away from the sinners, the exorcists, him…you can be here with me and away from all the evil that floods the streets –“ “No!” you interject louder than you mean to. He cocks his head at your sudden outburst, looking offended but softens when he sees tears continue down your face. “I see why Charlie likes you so much my dear. You both try so hard to see the best in everyone and want to help. It’s unfortunate such kind souls like yours are taken advantage of far too often.” You feel his grip tighten at your waist as he presses a hand to your cheek. This feels so very wrong…Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close

You grab his wrists, not to move them away but rather to make sure they don’t travel your body any further, “I have ways of keeping myself safe, Lucifer. I appreciate your offer but I can’t…I won’t…hide away. I refuse to be caged when there are people out there that need help.”

He lets out a low chuckle and rests his forehead on yours. His eyes close as he sighs, “Your determination and stubbornness remind me so much of her…”

“Who?” you whisper.

His lips hover above yours, “Lillith.”

This IS wrong. “Luci –“

Before you can say anything else his lips interrupt yours. His kiss is gentle yet unwavering. Your body aches from how tense your body has become. Any other sinner would kill to be in your position right now, but your mind is only focused on one person – and it isn’t the one kissing you. I hate this...

Like a saving grace, Lucifer’s phone begins ringing with Charlie’s adorable baby picture lighting up the screen. He pulls away and answers it reluctantly, “Heeeey you! How’d the m – oh? Yes, we will be right there.” He hangs up with a groan and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We will have to put this to the side for now. Apparently, the meeting with Heaven didn’t go well. Charlie needs us back at the hotel.” With his free hand he opens a portal into the hotel lobby and pulls you alongside him. 

Stepping into the lobby, his hand keeps a firm grip on yours. You walk in just in time to see Charlie bursting into tears and running upstairs with Vaggie and Alastor trailing close behind her.

“Charlie wait – “ Vaggie tries to stop her but halts at the banister, knowing she is far too upset to talk right now. Lucifer finally lets go of you and rushes to follow his daughter, shoving Alastor to the side as he makes his way up the stairs.

His face twists into a snarl at the King’s boorishness. Realizing he wasn’t alone Alastor glances over his shoulder to see you staring. A strange mixture of hurt and relief fills your body seeing him for the first time since that night. He didn’t look like his usually pristine self. He looked…tired? Disheveled? Why does he look like he’s been worse off than me? As if he’s suffered just as much? You notice his smile falter as he looks back at you before turning to see Lucifer making his way back down the stairs.

“She seems to need some time alone.” Lucifer announces with a hint of hurt in his voice. Ignoring Alastor, he walks over to you and takes your hips forcefully, making you flinch at his grip. “I think it’s best I take my leave for now. Promise you’ll at least consider my offer, please? I’d hate for you to..” he glares back at Alastor to ensure he was watching, “…get hurt in any way. You’re worth protecting my dear.” He places a long kiss to your forehead and vanishes in a stream of red ribbon. 

You rub your sides where he had grabbed you to take away the sting. Your face contorts uncomfortably at the remnants of his touch and kiss. Alastor takes a step towards you almost unconsciously. You snap to his eyes, silently begging for him not to come closer. You want nothing more than to run to him, to feel his touch, his warmth, his safety but you know it'd just hurt more. He stops, offering a nod as he dissipates into his shadow without a word.

Vaggie fills you in on what happened in the meeting with Heaven. Your stomach turns at the idea of the Exorcists targeting the hotel and your friends. You know you’re going to be needed more than ever come that day. I need to be stronger; they’ll need all the help they can get.

You lay down for the evening hoping sleep would come easy but find your eyes only burning into the ceiling. The Extermination, Lucifer’s offer, Alastor…Your mind didn’t know what problem to try and figure out first. After lying awake for a couple hours, you give up and decide to go for a walk to clear your thoughts. As you walk through the lobby you give a quick smile to Husk who was closing up the bar for the night.

“And where are you off to so late?” he hollers, making you jump from the sudden break in silence. 

“Just need to clear my head, Husk. Have a good evening.” you continue walking towards the front doors. He quickly catches up and puts a paw on your shoulder, “Mind if I join? Some fresh air sounds pretty good right now.” You shake your head and step to the side for him to lead the way. 

The two of you walk in a comfortable silence around the small path circling the building. Distant yells and car horns fill the air from the city below. “Quite an exit from the King this afternoon. Sure got Al riled up.” Husk says casually. You stop dead in your tracks at the comment, “What do you mean?”

“If Al comes for a drink, it’s just that. A single drink. Tonight you would have thought he was trying to drown himself.” “If you came along to try to guilt trip me, don’t bother. He did this to himself.” you bite, continuing down the path in hopes he would drop the subject. 

Husk stops you again, “I ain’t trying to get in between whatever messed up relationship you two have, but as someone who is usually at the brunt of his bad moods, he hasn’t once bitten my head off since you came around. You have an…interesting…effect on that evil bastard.”

You shake off his hand, frustrated at the continued prodding. “That’s exactly what he is. Nothing more than a selfish, heartless -”

“He can’t be too heartless considering...” Husk stops himself seeing your head whip around. You walk back towards him, keeping your voice low, “Considering?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously and takes a deep breath, “Look he never confides in me. I mean he barely speaks to me other than when he needs something. The liquor really did a number -”

You grab his shoulders to stop his rambling, “What did he say?”

“I - I didn’t even know he had the word in his vocabulary -”

“HUSK!?”

“He said…he loves you.”

If it wasn’t pounding so loudly in your ears, you could have sworn your heart stopped. Any air in your lungs felt as though it was sucked out, “What…”

“That was all he said before leaving for the radio tower. It about broke him seeing Lucifer with you. I never thought he’d say something like that out loud.” Husk says quietly, as if afraid someone else would hear the confession. You stare at him for a while, trying to process what he was saying. Your head starts to spin. Is he just trying to lie his way back to me? Why would he even tell Husk anything? Did he really lose his tongue from the liquor? “I - I need to s-sit down.” your knees buckle but Husk grabs you before you hit the ground.

“Woahh - alright yeah let’s get you inside.”

He helps you inside and sits you on the lounge chair in the lobby, “You okay kid?” 

You finally catch your breath and rest your head in your hands, “Yeah, just a lot to take in today. Thanks Husk. I’ll be good.” He takes the hint that you need a few minutes to yourself and starts to head to his room. 

“Actually wait - mind pouring me a double real quick?” you try to ask but it sounds more like a demand. Husk reluctantly walks back to the bar to pour your usual, “You uh - sure this is a good idea?”

No but fuck it.  

“Yes, it’s fine. Thank you again.” you slam back the drink, not letting a drop go to waste. You needed to feel the burn to ground yourself and prepare for what you were about to do. 

Husk leaves you in the lobby. You wait a few moments to allow the liquid courage to burn through your veins, then make your way to Alastor’s radio tower.

Here we go.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone @phamtasic @ohnah2022 

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar #alastor smut #angel dust #hazbin #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #slow burn #female reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #fanfic #lucifer x reader #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #angst

[hxnbi]

❀ not so secret — inumaki toge

synopsis: you and toge were having a secret rendezvous, far away from all the others, or so you both thought

tags: fluff, gn reader

word count: 1.4k

“Look at him… He’s infatuated....” 

Maki sighed, rolling her eyes at the scene happening around the corner between you and Toge—that is, if she could even see anything, as Panda was practically blocking her vision. 

Just peering from the bushes she and Panda were hiding from, they could see you two—very explicitly, she might mention, holding hands.

She knew something was afoot when Toge grabbed you by the hand the second you finished your dinner and dragged you somewhere, unbeknownst to her. Their curiosity was piqued, only for the two to find you two, alone, sitting together on a bench, enjoying each other's company in the moonlight.

Or so you two thought.

Cue having Maki and Panda staring at you two with wide-eyed eyes and curious spirits. Well, for Panda, anyway.

Now, they were a reasonable distance away—enough to see you two together but not enough to hear a word, and neither could you guys. 

Maki squinted her eyes, trying to decipher what exactly was going on between you and Toge through the dense and overgrown foliage that was Panda’s ass. 

Your silhouette was barely discernible against all the bushes blocking her view and the dimming twilight in the sky, but the subtle gestures and hushed whispers from both your and Toge’s figures spoke volumes. 

Maki leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued despite her initial reluctance. She could not lie. Seeing Toge this intimate with someone was somewhat unexpected, unsettling even. “...Don’t you think that Toge’s demeanour is a lot more, different? We’ve never seen this before from him,” she noted, squinting her eyes at the bench you both were still sitting on, now laughing.

“Shush Maki! We’re getting to the good part!”

Maki sweatdropped at how invested Panda was. At this rate, she may as well think that Panda was also included in your guys’ relationship. “Good part, my ass. The hell are we even stalking them for?”

“For reconnaissance,” Panda replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, yeah. They’re definitely close,” she shrugged begrudgingly, her voice hardly even audible. After all, they were stalking you two from behind the bushes. “But dating? I’m not so sure.”

“What else could it be? Look at the way they’re leaning towards each other like they’re sharing some big secret!” Panda leaned his body forward eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. He appeared to be more invested than Maki was, as if this were all some kind of romance drama in real-time.  

But Maki, ever being the voice of reason, remained skeptical, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “Maybe they’re just friends?” she clicked her tongue sarcastically, still in a whisper. “Ever heard of that? We can’t jump to conclusions based on a few stolen glances.”

But the Panda was undeterred. “I doubt it. I believe that there’s definitely something more. I can feel it in my bones!”

“You’re being delusional.”

“Hello, everyone~!” a voice suddenly interrupted their conversation, startling them into silence. 

‘Oh god…’ 

“It’s your good-looking teacher, Gojo Satoru, here to— What are you both doing, hunched down in the bushes like that? Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re now homeless!”

Maki shot her teacher a withering glare, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“Now, what are you doing here, huh, Satoru?”

“So cruel!” he cried out mockingly, but his trademark arrogance and his shit-eating, mischievous grin were on full display. "I was just thinking of checking in on my favourite students, of course. But it seems like I've stumbled upon something much more interesting."

‘...Ugh.’

That’s it. All hope was lost. A lack of privacy did not exist. Not in Jujutsu Tech, where the most unlikely of people—or animals, for that matter—were always watching.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see them here alone again since the last time,” Gojo hummed.

“They’ve been meeting here in this exact spot for the last four days now,” Maki noted. “You think theres something going on that we don’t know about?”

“Well, of course!” Panda said a matter of factly. “Isn’t it clear that they're dating?”

All eyeballs shifted to the scene where they saw Toge holding your hand close to his face, and you leaned on his shoulder. The intimacy between you two was evident even from a distance from where they were watching.

Toge’s fingers brushed past yours before grabbing them firmly, your fingers intertwining with his. Toge's gaze met yours, and a soft smile graced both your lips. A silent exchange of warmth without an onigiri ingredient was said from Toge in sight.

“Oh shit! They’re getting handsy!” Gojo gasped, seeing this happen first-hand. 

“Be quiet,” Maki hissed. “You’re loud-ass is going to get us caught.”

“That's right. We’re just getting to the good part!” Panda added with a playful smirk, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle before them. It was comedic, really. 

Maki sighed. There really was no reasoning with those idiots…

Gojo bent over to Maki and Panda. “So, are we just waiting for them to make out?”

A tick mark appeared on Maki and Panda’s faces. ‘This guy…’

Just as they were spying on you two, Panda’s hefty weight, along with the shock of Gojo’s surprise appearance, poured over the scene. But their attempt at stealth was quickly foiled as they toppled over each other like a cascade of dominoes, making a loud noise, something that you two very much picked up on in this seemingly quiet space. 

Caught off guard, you and Toge stood up and turned towards the commotion, eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes and ears attuned to the noise that had just come unexpectedly from behind where you once sat.

“What the—”

Maki began to sweat. ‘Just great.’

You and Toge, now standing before the toppled mound of bodies, exchanged a puzzled glance, eyebrows raised in surprise, only to be quickly replaced by amusement at the spectacle unfolding before your eyes. 

“Salmon salmon.”

“Huh? Maki, Panda, and— Gojo too!?”

Everyone’s necks turned, only to see you and Toge standing before them, holding hands. You and Toge exchanged knowing glances. 

“Ahem…” your eyes flushed in embarrassment, your voice faltering as your hand remained enlaced with Toge’s, glued to the moment. “Did you… see everything?” 

Caught red-handed, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Well, Maki, mostly. Panda and Gojo could not give a single damn; they were more interested in the fact that you were there.

Finally, they asked the burning question, "Are you and Toge dating?"

They exchanged looks filled with curiosity and anticipation, making you sweat. Their gazes shifted between you and Toge, practically demanding an answer from either of you, clearly not willing to take no for an answer. 

There was silence, right before… 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, we are.”

“WHAT?!”

“I was right!” Panda started dancing around.

With a tilt of your head, you turned to face the pale blonde, who blinked at you, all with the innocent expression he always had. 

“Toge, I thought you said you were going to tell them?”

“Tuna.”

The boy gave you a sheepish expression, Toge’s small muffles speaking through the layered shirt he always wore. You inhaled deeply and continued to hold his hand, tightening your grip. “Don’t worry. I could never get mad at you, Toge. Like, come on, just look at the expressions on their faces. The poor souls.”

‘Huh…?’

Toge's gaze softened at your words as he nodded in agreement. "Salmon roe.”

His expression said it all. It was one of adoration, to be able to hold your hand and spend time with you, that brought him immeasurable joy in his quiet world. One that the others hardly ever saw in the pale-haired boy let alone a mere smile, all but hidden away under his mask, quite literally. 

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his choice of words. You rubbed at his straightened, pale hair, utterly oblivious to the incredulous stares of Maki, Panda, and Gojo. "Yes, yes, salmon roe," you replied with a wide grin of your own, feeling a warmth spread fruitfully in your chest as if the three were mere background props in your own quirky sitcom.

As for the second years? Well…

‘If this supposed to be romantic…?’ they all sweatdropped.

Heaven forbid the words of onigiri ingredients could ever be considered “romantic.”

“Are we… interrupting something personal here?” Panda neared closer to Maki, whispering in her ear, only to receive a punch right in the gullet.

“So, were we the first to learn about your relationship?” Panda sparkled as if they weren’t just interrupting a moment of yours a moment ago, or even that he was just punched. Having a puppy body has its advantages, perhaps.

“Oh,” you blinked. “No. It was Ijichi, actually, a few days ago.”

“SO YOU BOTH WERE GETTING HANDSY!” 

“Not really. He walked into the classroom while me and Toge were in the middle of-”

“I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU TWO REALLY WERE MAKING OUT!”

“That’s not it either…”

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #y/n #gn reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #fluff headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen comfort #fluff #comfort #scenarios #headcanons #drabbles #inumaki toge #inumaki #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge x you #inumaki x you

[sunshinepanic]

Unexpected 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: If someone had told you exactly what was going to happen when you left the boneyard with Rafe you never would have believed them.

Chapter Warning: JJ is kind of a douche, Angst, fluff, smut

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 2,062

OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Finishing off your night eating pizza while sitting on Rafe’s kitchen counter in Tannyhill was not how you expected to end your night, but here you are. After Rafe found you at the boneyard all alone, he drove you back to Tannyhill so he could give you back your skateboard that he had left in his bedroom. As you followed him into the giant house, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was so extravagant that you were afraid if you moved wrong, you would ruin something you would never be able to afford to pay his family back for. Rafe, seemingly able to sense your feelings, smiled at you. “Relax, Sunshine. I know it’s a lot to get used to, but I promise you, even if you set something on fire in the living room, no one would notice. Besides, my family is out of town with Wheezie right now.” You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders as he caused you to laugh, and he continued to lead you through the house to the kitchen. Rafe opened the fridge and pulled out a soda for you and a beer for himself before asking you what kind of pizza you wanted. Once Rafe placed your order, you and him fell into an easy conversation. 

Once the pizza was delivered, you found yourself sitting on the kitchen counter eating while Rafe stood across from you. Every time he would finish a piece of pizza, he would gently throw his crust at you, causing you to squeal and duck out of the way while he laughed and claimed he was trying to throw it back in the box and not at you. You dodged the last crust he threw at you, tossing your own at him and smacking him in the chest with it. “So I have a serious question for you.” Rafe quirked his eyebrow at you. “Ok shoot.” You stared at him for a moment before asking. “Why do you call me sunshine?” The question seemed to startle a laugh out of Rafe. “You really want to know?” When you continued to stare at him, Rafe relented. “The first time I ever saw you, you were running around with John B and JJ, and you had the most intense resting bitch face I had ever seen. You were intimidating as hell, and I remember someone saying, “Well, isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” And I thought it fit you perfectly.” After a few moments of silence, you doubled over in laughter. You couldn’t believe all this time he has been calling you sunshine because of your resting bitch face. 

Once your laughter died down, Rafe got a curious look on his face as he asked you, “So how are things with JJ? Are you doing okay?" You took a minute to think about your answer. “Things are a little awkward, but that’s expected. I love Kie and JJ, and I want them to be happy. It just hurts how he went about everything, but I’ll be fine. JJ is acting weird towards me a little, but I figure he’s just worried because of how everything went down.” Rafe nodded along as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad you are feeling better about everything. I know how you felt about him, even if I don’t get the appeal at all.” You laughed and threw another pizza crust at him for the subtle jab he threw in about JJ. “You actually helped me with that a lot. I was in my head about it, but you helped distract me and get me out of my own head. That reminds me.” You remembered the bracelet you made for him and removed it from your other bracelets. You quickly toss it at him. His eyes widen as he catches it. “I made this for you. I know it’s not a lot, and you will probably think it’s stupid, I don’t expect you to wear it or anything, but I wanted to give you something to say thanks for the other night.” Rafe looked down at the bracelet, running his thumb across the little sun charm you had woven into it. No one had ever given him something; they actually put time and effort into making him. Usually, people opt to just throw money at him or randomly buy something expensive with no thought behind it. Just when you were starting to feel really stupid about the whole situation, Rafe’s big hands were cupping your face, and his lips were crashing against your own. You startled for a moment, as you didn’t even register him moving towards you, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, gripping onto his broad shoulders. 

If kissing JJ knocked the wind out of you, kissing Rafe was like being set on fire. Your entire body felt like a live wire, and you were hyper-aware of every point of contact. Rafe’s hands found their way to your hips, and he bit your lip as he gripped them, causing you to moan. Rafe took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth. You buried your hands in his hair as your hips rolled against him, feeling his growing erection pressing against you. Rafe pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily, and it jerked you out of your daze. You felt panic start to set in. This couldn’t happen to you again. You knew he was just fucking with you. God damn it, how fucking pathetic could you be? He was probably going to tell everyone about this and how delusional you were to think he would actually give you the time of day. Then Rafe’s rough voice cut through your internal monologue. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You focused back on him, noticing that he wasn’t pulling away, and he looked like he genuinely just wanted to make sure you were okay with this. Panting, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice, and surged forward to kiss him again.

Rafe’s hands slid under your hips as he hoisted you off the kitchen counter, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Somehow he managed to maneuver you up the stairs and to his bedroom, where he kicked the door shut and gently let you down. You slid your hands under Rafe’s shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head. You left kisses across his chest as your hands got to work on removing his belt and jeans. Once you got his pants undone, they fell to the ground, and you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, kissing your way down his body. Rafe groaned at the sight of you looking up at him as you slowly pulled his black boxer briefs down his muscular thighs. Rafe’s chest was heaving as you looked up at him from your position on your knees, and you slowly leaned forward, licking a stripe up his hard length, causing his head to fall back and a moan to fall from his lips. There was something so exhilarating about how you had him completely naked and wanting while you were still fully clothed. Rafe quickly looked back down at you as you took his length into your warm mouth. Your eyes slipped shut in concentration as you tried to take all of him into your mouth. You feel him thread his fingers through your hair. “Eyes up here, baby. Take your time.” Maintaining eye contact with Rafe as he moaned and praise fell from his lips caused you to clench your thighs together, looking for some sort of relief. 

You take what you can’t fit into your mouth in your hand and slowly guide him back into your mouth. You maintain eye contact as your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around his tip, causing his breathing to become faster. As you increase suction, you feel him straining to hold back his orgasm. The next thing you know, Rafe is hauling you up from the ground and tossing you on the bed. It startles a laugh out of you, but then he quickly covers your body with his own. He slides his hands up under his sweatshirt as he’s kissing you. Leaning back, he helps you sit up to remove it. Noticing you aren’t wearing anything underneath, he lets out a groan as his eyes catch on the baby blue barbells that adorn your puffy nipples. “God damn it, you’re perfect.” Rafe quickly leans down, attaching his mouth to one nipple and then the next, causing you to moan and arch into his warm mouth. He takes his time alternatingly kissing your breasts and playing with your nipple rings with his tongue while he undoes your shorts, slipping them off and throwing them across the room.

He slowly works his way down your body, maintaining eye contact, and places a kiss on your black silk panties. “Look at you; you’re so wet, and I’ve barely even touched you, Sunshine. Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You let out a pitiful whine, bucking your hips towards his face. Chuckling, he pins your hips to the mattress as he slowly peels the damp fabric away. “Use your words, baby.” Whining, you relent. “Yes. It’s all because of you. Please touch me.” A predatory smile slides across his beautiful face. “Good girl.” He dives down, licking a broad stripe up your center, causing you to moan. Sitting up on your elbows, you are mesmerized as he laps at your core like you are the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. You toss your head back as Rafe waists no time pushing two fingers into your needy core. His fingers are so long and thick, hitting all the spots you can never manage to reach by yourself. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls start to tighten around his thick fingers, but before you can crash over the edge, Rafe pulls away, causing you to whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Chuckling Rafe shushes you as he crawls back over your body. "Shh, shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise. But the first time I make you cum, I want it to be on my cock.” He smirks as he guides his tip to your entrance. All of the air is knocked out of you as you feel him slowly start to sink into you. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back at the almost painful stretch. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but he was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you a few minutes to adjust while kissing you passionately. When he started making shallow thrusts, you moaned at the feeling, spurring him to go faster and a bit harder. "God, Sunshine, look at you; you’re taking me so well.” The praise falling from his lips, along with the bruising grip he had on your hips and the exquisite feeling of him pounding into you, was pushing you rapidly towards your release. Rafe could feel your orgasm getting closer as you moaned louder. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” You feel his hand move, and his thumb starts to rub tight circles over your aching clit. You feel your walls start to convulse around him as your back arches and stars flash behind your eyes. You dig your nails into his back once again, triggering his release. You feel him spasm inside of your sensative walls as you slowly come down from your high.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Rafe carefully slips out of you and makes his way to the en-suite bathroom. Before you can start to feel awkward, Rafe reappears with a damp cloth and gently cleans you up, wiping over your sensitive pussy with the cool cloth. Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth somewhere in the room as he lays down and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm chest. Surrounded by Rafe’s woodsy scent and his heartbeat in your ear, you start to drift off. You know that you should talk about what just happened, but before you can say anything, sleep pulls you under.

Next

Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulouseness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe Cameron smut #rafe Cameron x y/n #Rafe x y/n

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126 @simplyfixated @sleepjam @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444 @lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn @lifeonawhim @soldirboy @liuope @brynanna @abramswife @xxannyxx @babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys #jensen ackles #soldier boy fic #billy butcher #the boys amazon #hughie campbell #the boys fanfic #jackles #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 30, Epilogue - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 634

Previously On...: You and Bucky are probably going to be okay.

A/N: IT'S OUT EARLY!

This is it! The last chapter! OMG!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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10 Months Later

“I refuse to accept this.”

“Well, unfortunately, Boss, it’s my decision to make, not yours,” you told Tony as you finished stacking up the last of your moving boxes. Sixteen years– almost half of your life, now condensed into neat stacks of cardboard, waiting to be loaded into the van that was waiting downstairs.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” Tony asked, dramatically flinging himself on your now bare mattress. “How am I supposed to survive?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not like you won’t see me every fucking day, dude,” you admonished him. “I still work here, for fucks’ sake. Besides, you refused to let your realtor show me any place you couldn’t see from your terrace.”

“I thought it would be nice if we could wave to each other during breakfast,” he said, his face drawn into a pout now, “that’s all.”

You sat down next to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s time to cut the umbilical cord, Tony,” you said. 

“But you’re still such a kiddo, Kiddo,” he sighed.

“I meant your umbilical cord, Boss,” you laughed. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll try it for a year or two, figure out I absolutely hate it, and come crawling back, begging for my old room.”

“Don’t press your luck,” Tony said, sitting back up. “I’ll probably turn it into a sauna, or an indoor golf simulator as soon as you walk out that door.”

“Ah, there’s the Tony I know and tolerate,” you said with a smile.

“I’m just going to miss having you around,” he said, his voice now laced with sadness. “Sixteen years together– probably the longest stable relationship I’ve ever had. It’s not going to be the same around here without you.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too. But you know I need this. After everything that happened last year with Carthage, and Barnes… me spiraling, losing a baby I didn’t even know about, getting shot, and the… complications; all that shit with Steve. I just think I need a fresh start, some place where I’m not reminded of her every time I walk around a corner. It’s the only way I’m going to truly heal.”

“I told you I’d move you to another floor. Hell, I’ll tear down the entire Tower and start from scratch. We can build a whole new compound Upstate or something. You’d never have to set foot in this hallway again,” he said. And you knew he was telling the truth– there was little Tony wouldn’t do to ensure you were comfortable in your old home, but you couldn’t rely on him forever.

“You’ve saved me so many times already, Boss,” you said, looking back at him fondly, “and you know I’m always going to be thankful for that. But it’s time I started working on saving myself.”

“Well, when you make it sound all empowering and shit,” he began, “I start to feel like a dick for protesting.”

You laughed as your phone beeped. Looking at the message, you told him: “Movers are on the way up. I guess this is really it.” You both stood and embraced, Tony leaning down to speak softly in your ear.

“You know you always have a home here, Kiddo,” he said. “Whenever you need it. Even if it’s just for a night, or if you decide you want to come back for good. Door’s always open.”

“And even if it’s not,” you said as the two of you broke away from one another, “I can always hack the system to break myself in.”

“I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“You think Mr. Mitchell’s still practicing law?” you asked with a grin. “I can definitely afford to have him represent me, now.”

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[puppetmaster13u]

For any of your cryptid batfam AUs. We know Batman thinks criminals are superstitious and cowardly. So how superstitious should most Gothamites be? What are some of the superstitions and things they do because of that? And what random BS do the Bat kids do to actively encourage the superstitions because they think it’s funny?

Vibrates in headcanons.

Okay, so, this is less just the criminals of Gotham- a lot of goons are just trying to put food on the table after all- and more of, Gothamites in general. Like they have good reason to be superstitious.

Like everyone already knows about the Court of Owls, if nothing else then from the Rhyme they use to get children to behave. But Gotham? Is Weird with a capital W even in canon. There are literal streets that disappear and only reappear on certain days, areas where on specific days gravity just doesn't work right, several portals to hell have been opened just in Arkham alone, and there's enough curses and cults to smother any other place.

Funnily enough I am actually currently working on a story that focuses a bit more on the superstitions of Gotham lol. Like a lot of this stuff? Not shit you're going to see in the more tourist-esque spots, but those are death traps already.

Now a lot of the habits and myths of Gotham start out as a thing about Survival. It started less with things about the Bats and more about the Rogues and how to survive.

Tiny plant boxes meticulously cared for, after one noticed how plants react when Ivy is around. They line the windows of almost every home despite the smog, and some even pray through them for their Mother to not attack today.

Small scarecrow dolls, made of grass balls and cloth hang from overhangs on roofs with rope like a hangman, a charm in hopes that the one walking the streets will leave them alone. It ends with some claiming that if you rip the head from the body of cloth, the Scarecrow will come for you.

Small candles and lanterns begin to appear on the windowsills of children, their own homemade batsignals. Some say if you're very good, gifts will appear beside it, while others claim that if you're very bad, the Signal will appear and take you away.

Tiny shrines appear on rooftops over the years, meticulously carved statuettes within. It started with one for the Second Robin, and some whisper about how the Red Hood emerged from it, was reborn through their prayers and gifts. Now there are more, offerings ranging from snacks to child's drawings to figures of clay. No one dares take things from it, the last time someone tried... well, let's just say it didn't end well.

The thing is? The Bats don't even have to do much to encourage this, and don't usually even do it on purpose.

Everyone knows what happened to the ones who tried to be a vigilante. They know of the first Batgirl, humanity slowly dripped away the longer she huddled in the Bat's shadow until she was twisting around just like it. Any child who had been making their own costumes, their parents burned it that night, terrified that the Bat would take their children to be its own next. The small child, everyone knew about him, a wee little thing with a camera clutched against his chest. They all saw him run after the Bats despite the protests, saw him run towards the Bat as bodies crumbled before it. They saw him grab its arm with such tiny hands, and the Bat, grieving, stopped. They all saw the Bat whisk him away, and once more whispered to their children to never follow the Bats into the shadows. They know of the girl cloaked in amethyst cloth, who chased after them despite the warnings and pleadings of others. She disappeared, and the faceless thing of chittering laughs that raced the Robin that appeared in her stead... Everyone knows what happens to those who offer themselves to the Bats, knowingly or not.

Robin can mimic voices, their own childish giggles and clicks echoing across the stone slipping into another's words. What is merely a game to them is horrific for anyone wandering the streets in the dark of the night. Some say that it can steal your voice permanently if it so wished.

Everyone in Gotham knows that the Bats aren't human. Oh they might mimic and pretend to be as such, or even had been at some point, but they're confident they aren't. Even if they put on an act outside of Gotham, corpse-like skin gaining hints of color like blood is actually rushing through veins, everyone knows that's what it is. An act.

The Bats themselves? Well, it keeps their civilian identity safe- and the shrines have helped them get children out of bad home lives and to safety, so they're not going to just... not encourage it.

#ask answered #gotham #cryptid batfam #cryptid batfamily #cryptid batman #batman #batman au #gothamites #gotham city #headcanons #i have so many more #though some depend on the timeline & like where you live in Gotham

[unseemingowl]

Saga Anderson, and Nordic rep in Alan Wake 2

Early on in Saga Anderson’s exploration in Alan Wake 2, she runs into Ilmo Koskela. Fiercely proud of his Finnish heritage, Ilmo gregariously makes note of Saga’s Nordic sounding name and the familiar design of her knitted sweater. Perhaps a fellow Finn?

Alas no, Saga’s mom is Swedish she informs him. Immediately Ilmo’s face falls. I’m not sure if it’s actually just the animated character defaulting to his resting face, but either way the timing is too perfect. Cue uproarious laughter from me. People in the Nordics are on friendly terms of course, but we gotta have the tiniest bit of… scornfor each other. All in good fun of course. It’s traditional.

Now, I’m Danish, not Finnish, but still, I feel right at home in the towns of Bright Falls and Watery in Alan Wake 2. All of the little nods to Nordic culture and mindset feel so wonderfully familiar to me. The melancholia, the irreverent sense of humor, the affection for the Finnish and Swedish quirks of the characters. The game feels all the stronger in tone and narrative for Remedy embracing the Finnish roots of the studio.

Which is exactly why it sucks that I almost immediately saw the charm of those narrative decisions weaponised against Saga.

I first watched the scene between Ilmo and Saga on a lets play when I was trying to figure out if I should finally dip my toes into survival horror and buy the game. Delighted by the writing I took a look into the comments to see if people were vibing as hard with it as I was. They were. But I also saw a comment that made me frown.

Paraphrasing, it basically went, come on, like hell a guy like Ilmo would make the assumption that a black woman is Finnish. There are a multitude of reasons why I think that person was wrong, mainly that Nordic people love it when we run into each other in other countries, but it also just made me sad.

Saga being black does not negate her Swedish heritage. Formally, she is American, sure (I assume, not sure how that works in the US), but she’s raised by her single Swedish mom, of course she’s going to identify heavily with that part of her herself. It’s a profound and essential part of who she is.

But hey, I’m a white potato Dane, so I’m not gonna argue that I know much about the experience of being biracial. I’m gonna stick to what I know, which is that Saga is a very moving and beautiful example of something that I’m actually not used to seeing much of - a story about connecting with your Nordic heritage and roots. And it’s part of why I love her so much.

When Nordic people show up in big, international productions, it’s usually as Vikings, and sure, it’s fun to see our wild ancestors, but contemporary questions of Nordic identity and heritage is not something I often see explored. Not even in our own productions.

So much of Saga’s story is about family. Fighting for her current one, Logan and Casey (and sure, David too, lol), and rediscovering her first one. Tor and Odin.

Her discovering her ties to Tor and Odin is profoundly moving and made me teary-eyed several times over. And sure, a lot of those ties are fantastical in nature, but they still feel very much grounded - and what makes us Nordic if not the ties to our myths and legends that Tor and Odin have made themselves the living avatars of.

While Saga’s mom, Freya, had good reasons for leaving the Anderson seer magics behind, seeing them as part of what made her family fucked up, she also cut Saga off from the fullness of her capabilities. It is only through Saga reforming her family, healing its scars and fully embracing the Anderson heritage that she becomes as powerful a parautilitarian as she is at the end of the game. That’s beautiful.

And in fact I think Saga being black only deepens the richness of those themes rather than negate them or make them irrelevant. Because yes, Saga’s story would have been moving if she was a white character too, but I am very well aware that a lot of biracial people of Nordic ancestry can feel alienated from that part of themselves. Not least because questions of who gets to claim a Nordic heritage can get pretty ugly around here. There are most definitely people who share the racist mindset of that commentator. It adds an extra dimension. Which is why seeing Tor and Odin’s eagerness to claim Saga as part of the Anderson heritage is all the more moving. Through her magics, she’s just so obviously an Anderson, and they’re so damn proud to call her theirs and fight alongside her. Because they all got that wild Viking blood in them. They’re part of her and she’s part of them.

Roger Ebert, the film critic once called movies empathy machines. I think games, when they’re at their best, can be an even more intense variation of that. Which is exactly why it baffles me that some people can play through Alan Wake 2 and still think Saga is a stunt-woke character rather than someone fully and beautifully integrated in the narrative. A narrative which, at its most basic level – in my opinion – is about the mystical bonds we form with each other and the rest of the world through art and love and blood and family and heritage. All the great horror doesn’t negate that either, it amplifies it. Kind of like that clicker.

#I really didn’t mean to write like… a fucking essay #so this is probably gonna flop #but I love Saga so much #and as a Scandinavian woman #I feel so seen by her #and I hate that people are being so vile about her character #Saga Anderson #Alan Wake 2

[misc-obeyme]

🍄 coming in for laughs So imagine lucifer and mc switching bodies for a day. Satan needs to learn how to store the cursed tomes. Mc makes lucifer swear to behave like nothing happened. At RAD Dia obv figures out mc is lucifer for today, and so mc is excused from work. Meanwhile, lucifer needs to handle all his brothers touching, flirting, suggestions, secrets, not being able to be as intimidating, body is too small, where the fuck are my wings, why is your skin like that. At some point mammon even picks mc up on his shoulder and runs away. Attempted kisses. Total chaos. But he is too prideful to go back on his promise. At evening in the common room, they are back in their bodies, mc sitting on the couch, stifling a laugh, lucifer standing there embarrassed to his core, the rest come in, and find out the truth. A week later, Satan still hasn't come out of his room, Mammon can't look lucifer in the eye, Asmo gets flustered just thinking how close he was to lucifer having him on the table (in his imagination at least), Solomon wishes he asked mc for a pact while he could've, maybe it would work like that What do you think about the rest pf the characters? Ps. I love torturing lucifer, it's a hobby at this point

OH NO poor Lucifer!!!

MC being kinda mean by making him promise not to tell! They had to know he'd suffer at the hands of everyone believing he was them.

Then again, maybe it's good for him to experience a day being MC. He can finally know what it's like for MC to deal with this nonsense every day lol.

I love the idea that Diavolo figures it out almost immediately. Like MC shows up in Lucifer's body, ready to pretend to be him and get work done. At first Dia's like hmm okay.

But then MC does something too un-Lucifer like and Dia's like okay what gives. Who are you and what have you done with Lucifer. And MC just caves.

I can kinda see Levi just being unaffected. Like maybe he didn't even go to RAD that day and he's been holed up in his room playing some video game and missed the whole thing. 'Cause if he thought he was having some kinda sweet moment with MC and then found out later it was Lucifer, I promise the HoL will be flooded shortly thereafter.

Beel takes it in stride. He just goes over to Lucifer and says "Sorry for what I did when I thought you were MC." And Lucifer sighs and looks aggrieved, but he's like it's fine. 'Cause who could stay mad at sweet precious Beel?

Belphie is devastated, but like hell he's gonna let anyone know. Says he doesn't care and goes to sleep. Later finds MC and is like, here's what I did when I thought Lucifer was you. It was terrible. How could you make me suffer like this.

Barbatos would know, I don't think he'd be fooled at all. He keeps the secret, but he's just laughing about the whole situation on the inside.

Simeon is confused. Wait. MC was actually Lucifer? Oh. Oh no. He's gonna be apologizing to Lucifer for anything he did when he thought Lucifer was MC, even if he didn't do anything lol. Lucifer's just like please let us not speak of it.

I love that Solomon is disappointed he lost his chance to try for a pact. Lucifer is just like it's never gonna happen.

Satan receives an unfortunately long lecture about the correct storage of cursed books.

#torturing Lucifer is incredibly entertaining #Anti Lucifer League is like this is funny but we also hate it #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #🍄 anon #uh I know you're not on anon but I'm still using that tag lol #misc answers

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget Me

Gates Of Hell

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: mentions of death, violence, claustrophobia, lotsssssss of angst - i am the real monster, gun use,

steve is adorable as usual and y/n is... she needs help, my girl is going through it

[A/N: It's 3am and I thought it was a great time to rewrite the ending so if it's bad, that's why. In all seriousness, I am so thankful to everyone who has an insane amount of patience. I am currently on my last few months of uni so it's been hectic but I do still love writing this fic, I just haven't had time :( I hope the weeks of waiting were worth it?

To sum up this chapter... I have officially decided I am incapable of happiness... anyways, enjoy!]

Don't Forget Me

The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me. The pattern is me.

Ever since those words slipped from your mouth, the realisation was striking the remaining tethers to your sanity.

The radio had cut out a while ago, leaving a long strand of frustrating static in the air. You couldn’t find yourself to care about that right now. Something wants you here. Why?

As it turns out, you weren’t the only one wondering.

“This monster is running around making gates, and following you? Why you?” Steve had attempted to reclaim the radio signal once it had blared incomprehensible static, but he had no such luck. Instead, he turned back to you, feeling sick at the haunted look on your face.

“I don’t know.” You say quietly, staring down at the damp map lying on the rocky floor in front of you.

“It doesn’t make sense.” Steve states, squinting at the small building your finger currently rested on.

“I’m aware of that.” You sigh, rubbing your temple.

“But you still think you’re the pattern we can’t quite figure out?”

“I don’t know, Steve!” You suddenly snap before the colour drains from your face. You didn't mean to do that. “Sorry. It’s just… it’s too specific to only be a coincidence. I just don’t know why.”

Steve slowly nods, cautious of the way you were tucking your hands into your sleeves, obviously trying to hide their uncontrollable shaking.

“Is it to do with the virus?” He asks, the question tasting like poison on his tongue.

The virus is almost covering you now, creeping up your jaw. You couldn’t hide it if you tried, and Steve had already seen it. Already the venom was influencing you more than you had expected.

“I don’t think so.” You shake your head, mindlessly flexing your fingers.

“Then what’s different?” He looks at you with a soft frown, a look you’ve seen more in the past few days. “If not the virus, what else could it possibly want with you?”

You start to shrug, conditioned to feel like you were in the dark. Since finding the others in the lab, it had become increasingly clear that you were an outsider to their heroic group. You weren’t there when El was first discovered, completely unaware that the small girl adopted into your family was a superhero in her own right. You didn’t fight a demogorgon, or protect the kids from danger, and you especially didn’t save the world.

But this wasn’t about them anymore. This was about you. Your connection. And with all you’ve been through in the last month, you’re the only one who could solve this mystery.

Your breath catches in your throat and Steve finds your eyes, questioning.

“The dust…”

The giant shadow of a monster you had seen before was looming over what used to be the police station. It didn’t have eyes, nor even a face, but you knew it was looking directly at you.

And you felt paralysed.

You watched as it held out an arm… or was it a leg? Whichever, it pointed at you, something fluttered around its shape. Some kind of dust. Black dust.

Everything in you told you to run, but you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. The dust approached closer, slithering along the ground like vines. And you stared, heart jumping into your throat…

Wisps of wind trailed past your ears, unheard from the heartbeat thrumming against your eardrums until it became louder. It wasn’t just wind… it was voices. Incomprehensible murmurs swirling around you.

Until it wasn’t so incomprehensible any more.

“Tell her”

“Dust?” Steve frowns, tensing his shoulders. “You mean the Mind Flayer?”

“That night the shapeshifter separated us.” You start nodding, absent-mindedly moving closer to him. “I remember escaping the arcade and then…”

“Then?” He prompts, a hushed tone to both of your voices despite the privacy of the rocky ledge.

“I saw the Mind Flayer.” You say and he feels a chill run down his spine. “It- I couldn’t move. And these, like, scary images were in my head before I had this really intense nightmare. The next thing I knew, you were there and I wasn’t stuck anymore.”

“You were in some kind of trance. It took me a while to get you out of it.” He recalls, nodding slowly. Even the memory made his stomach clench. “What did you see? The images?”

“Hawkins.” You lower your eyes, slumping back against the hard rock, “It was… it was like it was on fire. Nothing looked the same. There was this giant gap and-and so many monsters. People… bodies.”

“An apocalypse.” Steve finishes for you and you nod your head, eyes squeezed shut.

“If we don't stop whatever it is opening these gates, Hawkins is going to burn.”

Your words struck a chill down his spine, the fear in your eyes evident even as you try and avoid looking towards him. There was a scared determination in the way you started down at the map. It was almost as if Steve could feel the waves in your brain radiating with an idea.

That's cute, Steve thought as you bit your lip in concentration. Adoring you felt better than the dread of an apocalypse.

“I'm going to the motel.”

Steve’s head almost snapped off his neck in the miniscule amount of time it took him to react, staring at you like you were crazy. You are crazy.

“Are you crazy?!”

He expected some sort of retort, or an ounce of an amused grin on your lips. But you only nodded.

“We know this thing is there. If I can catch it, kill it, whatever, I can save whoever is left. This is my chance to stop it.”

You were being reasonable, offering a calm take on the situation with a decision you were ready to face. Steve, on the other hand, took your proclamation as an act of war.

“If you think for one second I’m gonna let you get yourself killed, you’re outta your mind.” He says with a stern face, prompting your brows to scrunch together.

“Funny, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” You shot back and he shakes head in disbelief.

“Y/n, this isn’t just some fun little holiday where you can do whatever you want. You’re gonna walk into a literal death trap!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, but the panic was already settling in and taking control.

“There is something there that’s been following me, following us! Don’t you want to figure it out? End all of this?!”

“Whatever it is has been managing to rip a gap between worlds with its mind! It’s mind, Y/n!” He stressed, expressing himself with his hands, “I don’t want to be on the receiving end of that and neither do you!”

“What does it matter? I’m dead either way!”

You can see him pale in front of you, sucking in a breath.

“Don’t say that.” He whispers out, a quiver in his bottom lip and you hate yourself. Why did you have to hurt the people you loved?

“It’s true, Steve. I’m already out of time.” You tilt your head, a clash of lightning above illuminating the veins that slithered along your jaw. “I want to find whatever it is poisoning our town and I want to destroy it before…”

“Before what? It spreads to other towns?” He frowns, running a hand through his hair. “It’s made it pretty clear it only wants Hawkins-”

“Before it gets you.” You finish, staring up at him. If you looked in his eyes any longer, you would see your reflection, a reminder of what he was scared to lose, but that you were willing to sacrifice.

“We know there’s a pattern. And now we know it’s me. And… and I don’t know why, but it wants me. This virus is barely hours away from reaching my brain and honestly now is the perfect time to finally figure all this shit out and face it.”

“And if you get killed?” His voice cracks and you bite your lip, pretending like you didn’t know the answer when all you could think about for the past three weeks was the inevitable.

“Like I said,” You gulp, forcing yourself to hold eye contact. “I’m already out of time.”

“What about your dad? Robin? All of those little shitheads who clearly adore you-”

“They don’t need me, Steve.”

“I do.”

“No you don’t.” You shake your head, tears pooling in your eyes. “You’ve been doing this shit long before I was ever in the picture. If anything, I’ve just ruined it-”

“Why do you do that?” He cuts you off, flickering between your eyes with a look of concern. “Act like you aren’t someone important, when you most definitely are.”

“Steve-”

“No, I wouldn’t have survived this thing without you here. Neither of us would have survived...”

When his voice trails off, you watch him scrunch his face and take a deep breath. He walks away from you, running a hand through his hair. He was thinking, struggling to make a decision. But he always did, and it was always the right one.

“You’re not going to listen to a word I say, are you?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder. You silently shake your head, seeing no reason to prolong this fight. “Fine.”

“Fine?” You repeat, unsure you heard him right.

“I can’t stop you.” He shrugs, sniffing back the emotions lingering at the back of his throat. If he couldn’t convince you, he would just have to make sure you knew you weren’t alone. “But I can help.”

“Wait, no-”

“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”

A flash of surprise hits your face as Steve breathes heavy, not giving you another second to try and convince him to let you go. You had to understand that he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you go. No matter how many times he lived through that scenario in his head, replaying the scene as if you disappearing would leave his heart intact, he just couldn’t do it. Steve knew it was foolish to expect a different ending, but surely he was allowed to have hope.

Was it hope?

Or was it something he refused to see for what it truly was?

A delusion.

“If this thing is really opening the gates, why don’t we, like, make it open another one?”

Steve’s question hangs in the air when he shakes the thought away, realising the obvious answer before the last word even left his lips.

The ground coughed out a soft crunch beneath your footsteps, trailing beside Steve through the twisted crops of Merril’s farm. Even in the Upside Down, the field didn’t differ visually from the real thing. You remember when the crops started to degrade, Merrill grumbling about his neighbour poisoning them. The dispute had been entertaining to you. But now you knew the truth, it didn’t seem so funny anymore.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you trip over a vine, managing to regain your balance.

“What’s wrong?” Steve is by your side at an instant, brown eyes laced with worry scanning you.

“Nothing, just tripped.” You dismiss, frowning at the vine behind you. A shudder rolls down your back when you think you can see it moving, but the clash of lightning above was probably playing tricks with the light.

As you go to take another step, your vision blurs. You try and blink it away, rubbing at your eyes. There’s an unsettling rush of heat beneath your skin, scorching your nerves. It should be cause for panic. But you’ve been through this before. Your only fear was knowing you weren’t hiding it anymore.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve quickly grabs onto your shoulders and you blink as he catches you before gravity took you victim. You didn’t even realise you were falling. “Hey, you okay?”

No. Steve already knew that. How could you possibly be okay when the virus was slowly closing in on you?

“Just… give me a minute.” You catch your breath, trying every technique to stabilise your heart rate as you fall into a squatted position. You hated that this thing was slowing you down, and you hated being out in the open like this, knowing that because of you, the both of you were going to be in more danger than necessary.

Steve stands by your side, slowly sliding the bag from his shoulder to fish out his bat, hand wavering over the metal weapon resting below. No. That was for emergencies. This was just his paranoia setting in.

“Nice day, huh?” Steve offers when the silence became unbearable, making you laugh. He smiles. He loved making you laugh.

“I’ve seen worse.” You reply, standing back up and taking another breath, slow and easy. “Okay, I think I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“M-hm.” You nod, a small smile gracing your face as you adjusted your bag and found rhythm between your footsteps once again.

It was getting scarier, the time between your virus lapses decreasing more and more. You weren’t ready to turn into one of those things. No one could be.

How would I stop myself from killing?

Your eyes drift over to the boy next to you, his admirable determination guiding you both through the farm like it was his life’s mission.

What if you took his life?

You snap your head away, focusing on your breaths. One breath in. Hold. One breath out.

Will I have to watch myself murder innocent people?

One breath in. One breath out. One breath in-

“Y/n?”

Sometimes the dim light of the Upside Down was a blessing. The low exposure shielded you from seeing the way he looked at you; with concern, sadness, pity. You found it hard to be so vulnerable like this. You didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. You barely allowed yourself to be perceived unless it was for all the wrong reasons.

It was a stupid stupid habit to bear such hatred towards yourself for feeling. But this is how you been for years now. You weren’t sure how to be any other way.

“You’re suspiciously quiet.” Steve comments, attempting to lighten the dreary mood. “Not that I’m complaining. Finally, some peace.”

“Rude.” You reply almost instantly, unable to resist the smile pulling at your lips.

Steve hated how dark it was in the Upside Down. Without much light, he was unable to study your features in times like this, to watch the joy return to your eyes after weeks of torment.

But even in the dark, he knew exactly how much hurt you were hiding beneath that worn-out mask of yours.

“Seriously. What’s on your mind?” Steve asks you as he scrunches his face in disgust as the tip of his shoe brushes against the pile of inedible black mush that once was a pumpkin.

“Other than monsters, the apocalypse, and my general state of being?” You smirk at him, but he already sensed your hesitancy.

“Yeah, the important stuff.” He shrugs with a chuckle.

I’m scared if you don’t run away, I might hurt you.

You shake your head free of intruding thoughts, focusing on the ones that sparked unusual butterflies in your stomach.

“What? You want me to just sit around on this rock wondering if my girlfriend’s gonna make it back alive or if that’s the last time I’ll ever see her?” Steve lets out a breathy laugh, clicking his tongue. “No, I’m going with you. We do this together or there’s no point doing it at all.”

“Um, you said something earlier. Back at the quarry.” You force yourself to keep walking, trying to hide the smile in your voice.

“Like what?” He blinks innocently. A jolt of anxiety rushes through your brain.

Oh god, what if he didn’t mean it? He could have just gotten confused, or caught up in the intensity of it all and you were about to embarrass yourself for ever thinking differently.

As painful as it is, that option was probably the best one. Maybe then it’ll make it easier when the virus destroys you.

“You, um… you called me your… girlfriend.” You almost cringe trying to finish what you started.

Steve almost trips, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Oh. That.” Steve lets out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh… you know, it was just, uh…”

“Heat of the moment?” You offer quietly and he clears his throat.

“Yeah, right. Heat of the moment.”

“Yeah, of course. That’s- that’s what I thought it was.” You shake your head, wanting to move on from this subject as quickly as you could. “Just wanted to be sure.”

“Would it… would it be so bad if it wasn’t just the, uh, heat of the moment?” Steve suddenly asks.

You go quiet. Too quiet. And Steve clicks his tongue.

“Oh.”

“No, I didn’t mean-” You scrunch your eyes shut, footsteps slowing to a complete stop. “It just doesn’t feel right to say it.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Of course it does. Nothing has ever felt more right in my entire life, you want to scream, seal it in stained ink. But you had to look at the reality. You were going to die. You just wanted to make it as emotionally painless as you could.

“We’re not… we aren’t meant to be together, Steve.” You lie straight through your teeth, avoiding his eyes.

Steve scoffs, a hand on his hips as he looks at you in disbelief. “Yes, we are.”

“No. We’re not.” You say with a little more conviction, shaking your head. “This. Us. It’s not… how do we even know it’s real?”

When you avoided his eyes for a little too long, his hands find your face, cupping your cheeks to gently tilt your head to look at him. You just softly take them away, but he never lets go of your hands.

“If the gates hadn’t opened that day in detention… we never would have even looked at each other again.” You say, sadness coating your voice.

“But it did happen. And I’m looking at you right now. We got through it. Together.”

“We survived together. We- we relied on each other because we literally had no one else to.” You frown, shrugging it away as if your own words weren’t hurting you. “We went through literal hell and that’s what we bonded over. We don’t- How can you say this is real when we’ve been faking it all since day one? Let’s just be honest, it’s not gonna go any further so let’s save us both some time-”

“You’re doing it again.” He interrupts, his gaze on you unwavering.

“I’m not doing anything-”

“You’re pretending like you don’t care.”

You don’t respond.

“I care. A lot. Probably too much for it to just be a- a survival bond or whatever you said. And it’s definitely not fake.” He lets out a soft laugh, heart racing faster. “Actually… I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt something so real with someone before. It’s like- like breathing. You know? I can’t breathe without your stupid cute little face in my head or your annoying voice making me feel calm, or-or even this right here, your delusional belief that someone can’t possibly be in love with you which makes me want to just shake it out of you because it’s true, Y/n. It’s real. I’m in love with you, okay?”

Your mouth parts in silence, just looking at him, stunned. You were only trying to convince some excuses, to try and make it easier when it all inevitably ends. But you hadn’t really taken into account how much you both felt. And now everything was going to be so much harder.

“So, uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, releasing you from his hold and shrugging. “Just accept it.”

You both stand there for a moment, reliving his words. I’m in love with you. Steve doesn’t regret it, but he starts to feel nervous the longer you don’t say something.

“Can you… can you promise me something?”

Steve holds his breath. He knows what you’re going to ask. And he knows that no matter how many times he runs through that scenario in his head, he never pulls the trigger. He won’t take your-

“Don’t forget me.”

It wasn’t the promise he was expecting, brows furrowing with the intention of your words. He just wants to hold you, yell at you until you understood he couldn’t leave you behind, he wouldn’t let the virus take you. He’d find a cure, make one if he had to.

But he didn’t have time to figure out where to start because he was suddenly very aware you were both out in the open. And something was rustling the leaves, watching.

He quickly raises his bat, eyes focused. He can just make out a shadow, making him squint. Probably just another demodog, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

Except it’s taller. Almost… human?

And then he sees the glowing eyes, the gaping mouth. It was the screaming monster from the Radio Shack.

“Steve?” You frown once you catch it too, looking at him, waiting for his call.

“Once it screams, we run. Every monster and their mother is gonna hear it, and we need to get out of the open, fast.” He hisses between his teeth as he watches the creature weave its way through the trees, drawing closer.

“And lead them all straight to the motel?” You whisper back at him, and his face pales. There goes that plan.

“Shit.”

“What about that house?” You suddenly ask, tilting your head to your left. “The huge one on that hill? It’s the opposite direction from the motel and the closest thing-”

“Oh, god, no.” Steve breathes out, shaking his head with determination. “Remember what Robin called it? You do not enter a house called the murder house. Especially when you’re being chased by murderous flesh-eating monsters!”

“It’s pretty much our only choice right now.” You stress, the small hairs on your arm prickling the closer the creature gets. “We run through, slip out the back, and tail it to the motel before it’s-”

If Steve had any objections, you never heard them. All you heard was the terrifying scream rippling from the unhinged jaw of a ghostly woman.

“Run, run!” You yell, already feeling the effects of an ear-splitting pitch.

Steve immediately grabs your hand and you run, blindly trusting the boy you had assumed your enemy for 4 years of your life.

He wasn’t sure if you’d both be able to get inside in time, fully away of the hoard of monsters emerging from the shadows and chasing you down. It was a risky bet, this house. But you were right. It was the only option.

If Steve wasn’t so adamant on moving fast, he might have felt the soft tug of your arm as your body struggles to keep up, the stretch of the hill proving the laws of physics were never your friend. As long as your hand was in his, you were going to be fine.

The harsh creak of rotten floorboards as Steve barrelled into the room echoed menacingly in his ear. He quickly dropped your hand, pulling you behind him and making haste of tugging a tall and heavy cabinet down so it blocked the entrance. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it would give you both enough time to slip out unnoticed.

“That should keep them back, we gotta-”

Steve expected to find your hand as he reached back for you, but the space was bare. He spins around, stomach lurching when he finds you’re already sat against the wall, looking worse every second.

“No.” He drops to his knees and cups your head in his hands when you struggle to keep it up, swallowing his anxiety, “No, hey, sweetheart, hey. Look at me.”

Your weary eyes meet his and his breath hitches. The black veins were now creeping up your cheeks, spreading quicker in the past few hours than they ever had before.

A sudden chorus of thumping snapped his attention, the barricade against the front door almost shattering under the weight of its attackers. It wouldn’t hold much longer. He knew you weren’t in any state to run to the motel, and he had to think fast.

Steve loops his arm around you and pulls you to your feet, muttering a string of apologies as you wince. His eyes catch the bleeding moonlight from above, enticing an idea.

It felt like your whole body was on fire, any movement contracting your muscles to pain until you could nearly faint. But you had to try, you had to move. For him.

He could sense your determination as he moved you both up the staircase, your legs wobbling but making it to the top in a timely fashion. His admiration would have to come later. Right now, he needed you both safe.

The hallway was long and dusty, Steve’s eyes barely adjusting to the darkness. He’s unsure where to go next, a lengthy display of doors scattered either side of him as he helps you walk further into the house. Maybe there was another-

A giant crash echoed out in splintered waves, dread flooding his body.

They were here.

Picking the closest door, he drags you both inside and takes care to shut it as quietly as possible, knowing one loud sound could be the end. His nerves were on high alert, struggling to make the life-saving decisions his friends usually expected from him. But the stakes were different this time. There was no one to bail him out if he makes the wrong move, no Nancy or Jonathan to come save the day. It was just him, protecting you.

The door had apparently led to a bedroom, his eyes scanning for a chair or a dresser to block- No. No. That would just make more noise- But what if they got in?

Hide. You need to hide.

Pulling you close to him, he spots a large closet on the other side of the bedroom. That would have to do.

It omitted a soft creak, making him grimace. He carefully lowers you down, noting how you were forcing yourself to breathe in even intervals. You were fighting it as best as you could, and that was all he could ask for.

As he joins you, he manoeuvres you so you were situated between his legs, knowing this would be the only way to ensure you both fit in the small space. His bat is digging into his side as his arms are wrapped around you, his back pressed against the side of the closet as he watches the bedroom door through the crack of light, holding his breath.

He couldn’t hear anything, but that was the scary part. He had hoped to hear the creatures crash through the ground floor and somehow be tricked back outside, relieving his mind with the knowledge he made the right decision.

The space was becoming all too small, even with the door cracked open. And that’s when the fear came creeping in.

What if a demogorgon found you?

What if it tracks your scent, follows the trail up the staircase, opens the third door on the left?

What if it stalks into the room and starts listening closely, hearing his quickened breaths of panic?

What if the last thing Steve saw was the thing ripping open the closet doors, a set of giant claws caging you in, knowing there was no escape?

What if you both died in here?

He exhales a long breath, fading back into reality when he feels something gently squeeze his hand. Your hand. You had intertwined your fingers with his, head laying back against hisshoulder, sensing his anxiety.

Steve had known he was claustrophobic for a while now. As a little kid, he remembers when he and his friends would play in the woods, a hollowed tree trunk on the ground marking the final destination of their adventure. That was the first time he felt fear, he thinks, curled up halfway through the tight space as his shirt was caught on protruding bark. He remembers his friends laughing and leaving to go find his parents when it became all too serious, assuming they had abandoned him there.

The tunnels were far worse than his 7 year old self’s nightmares. When the demodogs came barrelling towards them, his sudden realisation that he would be dragged back into those tunnels and left for dead, he had never felt so hopeless. He couldn’t even fight, not really. He could only attempt to shield Dustin with his body, and pray they made his death quick.

He never really knew how to get himself out of these situations. His parents had enticed him out with harsh words and false promises, eventually dragging him out by his arms when his mind couldn’t stop imagining the tree collapsing in on him. The demodogs hadn’t attacked in the end, sparing them with pure luck and giving him no time to reflect on his darker thoughts, the kids needing him more than he needed closure from himself.

But one single touch of your hand changed everything. No words, no rush. Just a reminder he was still here. And you were here with him.

He felt your body tense the moment the floorboards out on the hallway creak, just quiet enough to let him know the creature was trying to be silent. Something was looking for you.

The virus had taken its toll on you, the past few minutes of your life flashing by in a blur. You don’t even remember climbing into the closet, waiting in suspenseful agony for a sign that the coast was clear. But all of a sudden, you had finally returned to reality, feeling Steve’s erratic heartbeat on your back.

You almost flinched when you heard something bang against the bedroom door. It was sudden, ricocheting an echo of vibration through the floor. And then it was complete and utter silence.

You must have been shaking because Steve holds you closer, forcing you to take a few quiet breaths. You’d be okay. It will be okay.

Another sharp crash blares out, but it’s further this time. Whatever it was outside of that door was leaving, finally. But that didn’t stop you both from sitting there for a little while longer, afraid to move from the safety of the wooden walls.

It was you who made the first move to leave, shifting in his arms and pointing to the door. You had caught your breath now, shaking away the virus’ side effects with strength Steve could only respect.

Steve pushes the closet door open and you are finally back on your feet, offering a hand to pull him up with you.

“That was close.” He breathes out with a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He retrieves his bat from the wardrobe and turns around to see you’re stood still with a guilty expression on your face.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper out, shaking your head. “We could’ve- it’s my fault.”

“What? No.” He crosses the room and pulls you into a hug, one you definitely needed. “No, it’s not your fault. None of this is.”

After a moment, he pulls away, sucking in a breath. “Now let’s get the hell out of here because this place is giving me the creeps.”

You nodded to his words, shivering as you observed the room you stood in. It looked like a master bedroom, possibly decorated for a couple to reside in. Everything was either covered in dust or cobwebs, a pang of sadness hitting your chest.

You knew the rumours of this place; a man going crazy and killing his entire family, their ghosts now haunting the place ready to collect more victims. But right now, you didn’t feel haunted.

A family had died here, the home clearly decorated with care and love from the people who never got a chance to live in it. And it has just been left like this, to wither and rot away.

Steve poked his head out of the door and listened out, making sure you weren’t just walking into a trap. He did the same as he leaned over the banister, clocking the wide open front door, now adorned in malicious claw marks.

“Fastest route?” He asks as you join him at the back of the house, squinting into the horizon.

There were only two options; along the road and out in the open, or through the woods with little to no light. You tried to think back to when you originally thought of the plan, retracing your steps.

“I’m thinking, uh…” Your voice suddenly cuts off and you turn to stare at him, a hint of a smirk on your lips. Steve frowns. “Do I remember you calling me sweetheart earlier?”

Heat rushes to Steve’s cheeks. “What? No. That would be weird. I don’t have a pet name for you. Or any name, actually. Other than your actual name. Maybe ‘asshole’. Not- not sweetheart- right, we’re cutting through the woods this way.”

He marches off before he becomes any more of a mess than he already is, hearing your laughter as it trails behind him.

“So… where the hell is this mysterious gate maker gonna be?”

You were both stood in the parking lot of Motel 6, eyes scanning each room as if a source of light would illuminate the monster you were hunting. If your theory was right, and it was all originating from here… how long has it been right under your noses?

“Maybe it’s like the gates.” You offer, shrugging. “What did Dustin say? In the heart, or something. The middle.”

“I hope not.” Steve states and you turn to where he was suggesting.

The heart of the hotel wouldn’t be one of the rooms, nor the office. And you had a suspicion Steve had thought correctly.

The basement.

Staring down at those two daunting metal doors, you feel your skin prickle. You take a glance over your shoulder, frowning.

In all three weeks you’ve been down here, you’ve never encountered a single monster at the motel. It had been a last minute resort for safety, ensuring you weren’t followed, picking room 303 as if it mattered. You were pretty good at sneaking around the place, but you never realised how truly odd it was that no monster ever followed you.

Maybe that answer was waiting for you behind those basement doors.

“Wait,” Steve gently places a hand on your waist as you move towards it, staring down with brown eyes of deep concern. “Are we sure we really wanna do this?”

“There isn’t another choice.” You say, yet you were still hesitant as you walked up to the doors, forcing each step you took.

No locks, no obstacles. Just a pair of metallic blocks on hinges. That felt worse somehow.

“If I had a nickel for every time I had to go down into a cellar to look for a monster…” Steve sighs to himself, catching your curious look. “Uh, I’d only have, like, two. But still. That’s two more than I should have.”

You can only nod in agreement, your breath caught in your throat.

Are we sure we really wanna do this?

The unsatisfying creak of metal echoes across the parking lot, Steve letting out a low whistle as he stares down into darkness.

“I’m sure this won’t be creepy at all.” He comments, taking the first step down before you had the chance. You’ve noticed that about him, always the first to enter an unknown room. A protector.

Light bleeds through a small window on the other side of the cellar. There was more space than you were expecting, but the strangest part was the fact there was nothing in here. Like it had never been used to store anything.

“It’s empty.” You announce, stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room.

“Maybe the landlord kicked it out.” Steve shrugs, silently relieved. He catches your fallen expression and places a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’ll find another way.”

And then the basement doors swing shut, the sound rattling through the dark cellar at an alarming pitch.

“Shit!”

Steve drops his bat and rushes back up the steps to push against the metal doors. Nothing. He drives his shoulder into it. It doesn’t budge.

“How is it locked?!” He grunts, giving it one last try before backing away, shaking his head. “There wasn’t any lock on it!”

Your stomach drops.

You both freeze, turning once again to the singular door at the end of the hallway, a snarl vibrating through the wood of it.

The door you had walked through swung itself closed with a loud bang.

Spinning around with no intention of being here any longer, you reach out and pull the handle towards you.

It didn’t budge.

You grab the other handle in your spare hand and pull harder, the doors rattling under your force, but never opening.

“Billy!” You yell, but he’s already pushing against the doors, eyes wide. “It’s locked! How is it locked?!”

“Shit!” He hisses, turning to ram his shoulder against it for extra strength, but he couldn’t keep it up forever.

It was all happening again.

You had just walked into another trap.

“It’s here.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Steve is on high alert, frantically looking around the basement. But it’s still empty.

“Nothing is here, Y/n.” He frowns.

“Not on this side.” You gasp when something suddenly echoes in your ear. You look at Steve, startled, but he doesn’t share the same expression.

“What?”

“You didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?”

You start moving around, trying to find a spot to make the incomprehensible whispers clearer. Steve’s heart is pounding louder.

“It’s that voice again.” You mutter to yourself.

“Voice? Y/n, you’re scaring me.” Steve manages to catch you for a split second, and you meet his eyes. His face drops.

The veins were creeping up your face, laying just beneath your eyes. He places a hand on your forehead. You’re burning up.

“Y/n, you don’t look so good.”

“It has to be here.” You shake your head out of his hold, stepping back. “The map- it has to be here!”

And then you hear it again, the voice. Except, this time, it’s so much clearer.

“Tell her”

You suddenly stop, letting out a gasp and Steve’s anxiety is sky-rocketing. You were both trapped inside this basement with something he couldn’t see.

He tries the doors again, thumping his fist against it like it would dislodge something. Nothing. Glancing over his shoulder, he clocks the window. Maybe…

Steve sprints over, dropping the bag off his shoulder and onto the floor beside him as he fumbles around for some kind of latch. Something rattles and he smiles. Bingo.

“Hey, we can get out through the window. Wasn’t rocket science, but I’m still a genius.”

He turns back to look at you over his shoulder, smiling. You’re currently near the far corner, your back facing him. You don’t seem to have heard him, breathing in odd intervals as you stare down at your hands.

“Y/n.” He tries again, louder. Your head twitches. Steve releases the latch on the window, fear flooding his entire body.

That same familiar feeling starts twisting in his gut, the same he always had when something is really really wrong. He never ignored it, never wanted to, because it was always right. But he didn’t want to believe it this time.

He slowly steps away from the window, his eyes permanently glued to the back of your head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

Trying again, his voice cracks under the pressure of speaking your name like it would warp the vicious reality he was living in.

“Y/n?”

You snap your head to him, and the colour drains from his face.

“No…”

He lost you.

The world bled to grey as tears start trailing from his eyes, staring into yours. Except, they weren’t yours. They were darker, soulless. Black blood was dripping from your chin, staining your lips.

Lips he had once kissed.

Lips he would never kiss again.

“Don’t do this.” He begs, unable to find the force to speak louder than a whisper. “Y/n, please. It’s not- I can’t hurt you. You know I can’t hurt you. Y/n...”

You snarled at him this time, your mannerisms unnerving. It wasn’t you anymore.

His eyes slowly drift to his bat, making him clench his jaw. It was closer to you than it was to him. He wouldn’t be able to reach it in time.

But he knew he wasn’t completely defenceless. He just wasn’t sure if he had the strength to use it.

You suddenly lunge at him and he instinctively dives for his bag, rolling away from your attack in the last second. He unzips it, staring down. He couldn’t do this.

Snarls and hisses spit from your mouth as you scramble up from the floor, blinking rapidly as you search in the dark.

Click.

Your whole body snaps to him in one sharp movement.

With a shaking hand, he stares directly into your eyes.

“Y/n, please.” He sobs, “Please, you have to be in there.”

Not even the mournful pressure against his chest felt as heavy as the gun in his hand, tears rolling down his face.

It was your idea to take a pistol from the cabin, knowing you couldn’t use it unless it was in moments of emergency, afraid the rippling sound of the bullet would alert every monster in the town. You both swore you’d never have to use it.

And here he was, pointing it directly at your head.

“Steve?” Your small voice prickles his hearing and he moves his gaze from your hands to your eyes, darting between the pupils in silent study. “If I… if it-”

“No.” He immediately shakes his head and you could almost sob. For what felt like days, you’ve been trying to have this conversation with him, but he always shuts it down, pretending like it wasn’t needed.

“You need to listen-”

“I am not killing you.” He says with conviction, and he feels your fingers slip out of his reach. “That’s not happening, Y/n, you can’t expect me to-”

“And what then?” You cry, standing taller, making his head crane to look up at you as you wrap your arms around your torso. “You’re just gonna watch me turn into a monster and let me stay that way?!”

“This isn’t just some sort of favour you’re asking for!” He frowns, shaking his head. “You want me to kill you. To end your life!”

He knew this was coming. You knew this was coming. You’ve been trying to warn him for weeks now, pleading to him. And he never listened. He never wanted to.

Three weeks ago, Steve would have shot you in that school hallway if you had turned after the bite, the memory bitter but his heart still intact.

Three weeks later, Steve would rather shoot himself then live with the memory of putting a bullet between the eyes of the girl he was in love with.

It can’t end like this. It can’t.

“It’s me.” He tries again, hoping his voice could break you free from the virus. “It’s me. Steve. Remember?”

He should have known hope was never his friend.

A voice completely alien to you rips out a screech from your throat, and hell comes to bludgeon him with the worst it had to offer.

Steve watches in horror as the skin starts peeling from your face, tearing it into pieces like a flower and its petals.

Like a demogorgon.

It was too late. You weren’t coming back to him.

You run at him, sharp teeth bared, mind forever gone.

Steve’s eyes shut…

… and he pulls the trigger.

“STEVE!”

Your throat was sore from relentless screaming, sobbing with your entire chest.

Steve had rushed over to the window just after you heard that voice. You had turned your back on him, distracted by what you thought was a shadow hiding in the walls.

You heard him call your name. But when you turned around…

His eyes were rolled back, stood deathly still.

“Steve! Wake up!” You keep trying to shake him out of his trance, watching as a trail of red bleeds from his nose. “No! No, wake up! Steve!”

More and more whispers echo around you, building up until all you heard were the same repeated words.

“What do you want?!” You scream into the dark, cheeks stained with relentless tears. Steve was dying, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

In a desperate attempt for help, you crouch down by the window and start rifling through his bag, batting the gun to the side to grab the radio.

“Hello?! Is anyone there?! Please!!”

You cry out in frustration when all that responds is the piercing static.

“That won’t help you.”

The radio slips from your hand in shock, clattering against the concrete as your wide eyes fixate on the image in the corner.

Something was forming from the shadows, pulling together pieces of the dark like it was dust. Your body floods with ice. The basement had never been dark. You were just surrounded by the same black dust that haunted every single nightmare.

Your shaking hands swipe the bat from the ground and grip it tight, shielding Steve’s body with your own. You hear his breaths become shallower.

“You were never meant to find me.” It spoke in a dark voice, fading in and out like a weak connection.

A gasp slips from your mouth when the particles build its final form. A silhouette of a man, featureless yet distinctive. Of all the creations you had envisioned, you didn’t expect the monster to be so… human.

A man.

“What do you want?!” You yell at it, raising the bat like it would scare it away.

“I tried time and time again to get you to understand.” He spoke, drifting closer to you. “I gave you the future. Visions. A simple task.”

Something like a sob escapes Steve’s lips and you whip your head to him, feeling completely and utterly helpless. You weren’t going to defeat the monster like you said you would. And now you were going to watch him die, knowing you were the only reason he was down here with you.

“It was the only way to make sure you listened.”

You turn back to the monster, a scowl twisting onto your face.

“Let him go.” You warn, but you knew your threat was meaningless.

“You have no power here.” He states, and you could almost feel the shadow smiling at you with malicious intent. “I make the rules.”

Goosebumps return to their path along your skin, trailing up your arms and prickling at your neck, making you shiver.

“I will let him go… Once you carry out one important task.” He nods, closer once again. You shift your body protectively in front of Steve, holding your breath.

“What…” You blink away tears, feeling suffocated by his presence.

You understood why the other monsters were so afraid of the dark.

Your arms didn’t feel attached to your body when they suddenly start to lower themselves, a shadowed hand reaching for your face.

“Bring me the girl.”

You frown, shaking your head. Girl?

As if he heard your thoughts, he leans close to you, speaking one word.

“Eleven.”

“El?” You gasp, and he steps away from you, observing. “Why- what do you want with her?”

“Bring her to me, and I will let him go.” The figure doesn’t answer your question, tilting its head. “Once you leave this place, you’ll find her, and you’ll bring her to me. That is all I want.”

“And if I don’t?” You raise your chin, regaining the feeling in your arms.

He slowly raises his hand, pointing it to the boy behind you. At first, nothing happened. And then you watch in despair as Steve’s body starts to slowly lift from the ground, a strained yell of pain.

“Stop!” You beg, and the shadow obeys, Steve’s feet touching the ground.

One little action and it was so simple it was terrifying. If you don’t bring El to him, he’ll kill Steve.

This monster knew you. It had been following you around since the dust you encountered, observing the things that made you tick, the things you loved, hated, needed. He knew exactly what would make you listen to him.

He was the Voice that had been haunting you for weeks.

You look back at Steve, almost crying out when you notice he’s lost more blood in the time you’ve taken to decide. You couldn’t do that to El.

But you also couldn’t watch Steve die.

“Fine.” You sob, nodding. “Just let him go.”

“You’ll know where to find me”

And then the shadow is thrown back into the darkness, hitting a wall and sinking back into it, dispersing the dust in scattered patterns on the surface.

Steve gasps behind you, and you spin around to catch him as he stumbles forward.

“Steve!” You cry in relief, wrapping your arms around him as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Y/n?” He sounds surprised, almost sad, observing every little detail of you as if he couldn’t decide if you were real. “Wait, you’re… what happened?”

“I-”

You try to reply when a loud hum starts building behind you, your attention needed elsewhere.

The middle of the wall starts to burn away, splitting apart and blackening at the edges. The humming only became louder, a dark red hue casting your shadows.

The Voice was creating a gate. For you. To pawn your sister’s life for Steve’s. Once you stepped through it, you’d be signing a death warrant.

If you stepped through it.

“What the fuck is happening…” Steve blinks at the gate, aware of the tightened grip your hand had on his.

In his vision, he had shot you. He had committed the most unspeakable act he had time and time again refused. The worst part of it, was he thought it was real. He made that decision.

But it was all a lie, and you were here, holding his hand with a look on your face he couldn’t decipher.

“You have to go.” You say to him, your words hazy to his ears. He still wasn’t entirely sure he was back in reality, struggling to make sense of the walls around him. “Steve, listen to me. You have to go.”

“No.” He shakes his head, trying to focus. “What about… what about you?”

A booming chorus of thumps against metal suddenly arose from the basement doors. Your stomach dropped.

The creatures weren’t afraid of the dark anymore.

When the gate had spread into a human-sized portal, you start pushing Steve towards it. His sneakers were just touching the edge before he realised what was happening.

“Hey, hey! No!” He stops, and you’re not strong enough to overpower him.

“Steve, you have to go! They’re gonna break through any minute!” You cry, watching the ever-growing dents in the metal above the staircase. “Please, you have to go!”

“I’m not leaving you, Y/n!”

“It’s already too late.” You sob, wiping away your tears. Tears that felt hot, burning against your skin.

The skin littered with black veins.

“I’m gonna turn any minute now.” You place your hands on his cheeks, making sure he was listening to your every word. “And I don’t want my last memory to be crossing back into our home knowing I won’t make it 5 steps before the virus kills me. Okay? So, you’re gonna go through the gate and you’re not ever gonna look back. Please. Don’t come back for me.”

“I can’t-” He cries and you bring his forehead down to rest on yours, nodding.

“I know.” You whisper, leaning forward to leave a feather-light kiss on his lips.

His eyes are still closed when you pull back, studying him one last time.

“Which is why I’m sorry.”

Steve’s eyes snap open just in time to watch your hands find his chest and shove him as hard as you can, his body ripping through the gate faster than he can experience.

His back hits solid concrete, making him groan. It takes a second for him to blink away the dots in his vision, slowly sitting up. He can see your figure clearly, your sad eyes, the smile gracing your lips.

And then the gate starts to sew itself shut.

Steve scrambles to his feet, tugging at the dangling pieces of membrane to try and stop the process.

“Y/n!” He yells at you, the unwelcome fear striking his nerves when he hears a loud crash from the other side.

Judging by the look on your face, it was exactly what he thought it was.

“No! No! Y/n!”

The gate is getting smaller, but his screams are only getting louder, fingers desperately trying to pry it open like a set of doors. But it was useless.

He can just make out a rush of silhouettes, your retreating form.

And then he was clawing at a concrete wall, body shaking with the intensity of his tears.

“No, no, no, no!” He yells in rage, his fingers scraped and bloodied.

For the last three weeks, all he wanted was to be on the other side. And now he was here, without you, it felt worse than hell.

He barely heard the creak of metal doors open behind him, or even saw his shadow suddenly cast onto the space he lost you forever.

Steve didn’t notice anything until a voice calls out behind him, causing him to turn and squint against the beaming light.

“Steve?” Hopper frowns, squinting. “Steve.”

He rushes down those steps and drops the flashlight, both hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“Hey, kid, you alright?” He asks, but Steve can barely speak. “Kid, look at me.”

Steve looked at him, a torn and broken version of the boy Hopper had seen last. He can feel Hopper’s hands tighten, a look of horror clouding his eyes.

“Where’s Y/n?”

Don’t forget me, you had said to him. A bittersweet promise of a memory.

Steve wasn’t ready to make you a memory.

“She’s still back there.” He finally said, swallowing the bitter lie that was about to coat his tongue. “We got separated.”

He lowered his eyes, unable to look at him, trying to ignore the guilt eating away at his chest. It was cruel, to lie to a father so desperate to get his daughter back. But he was afraid the truth would show you were like your father in more ways than one.

Steve needed to do this. No matter the consequences.

“She wants us to find her.” He finally says, nodding. “She wants us to bring her back.”

To be continued...

[A/N: GOH will return for yet another installment! I'm separating the story into parts so I can trick my stupid brain that only gives me writers block into thinking it's only a short story. I honestly plan for this to last forever. Or at least until I run out of ideas lmao.]

taglist:

@toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose .

@palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 .

@iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby . @totally-bogus-timelady

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x you #apocalypse au

[edosianorchids901]

You're Home

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "rushing train"

Cw: panic attack

Crowley tried to take a deep breath, but it was already too late. His chest had seized up, and his lungs wouldn’t work. The panic attack rushed him like on oncoming train, and he didn’t have time to get off the tracks.

He barely had time to crumple onto a low rock wall in the garden. Gasping for breath, he clutched at the stones as everything spiraled wildly around him.

The world blurred out, and Crowley groaned. Typical, so bloody typical. He and Aziraphale had plans.

“Why now?” He could barely even get enough breath to complain. “Okay. Okay. Calm down.”

He didn’t manage to calm down. Trembling rushed through him, and he let out a strangled scream as he thumped the wall. All he accomplished was hurting his hand.

Several failed attempts to breathe later, he slid off the wall and crumpled to the ground. He pressed back against the cold stone, solid and secure. No one was about to grab him. No one was even here.

Unless they were. What if Heaven and Hell had finally decided to attack? What if he’d picked up on it subconsciously?

Hyperventilating, Crowley twisted around. Was Hastur behind that tree? Maybe there were angels hiding on the other side of the fence. Maybe—

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called. “Where are you, my dear? We’re going to be awfully late for dinner if we don’t leave soon!”

Ohshitohshitohshit, Aziraphale was here. He was in danger.

Crowley shoved off the ground, stumbled sideways, and nearly fell over his bag of gardening tools. He pulled himself together—except for the frantic hyperventilation—and forced himself to move. “Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale, coming down the stone path, tutted are him. “There you are, you old serpent. Whatever have you been up to? Why are you breathing so hard?”

“Trying to outrun a train,” Crowley choked. He grabbed Aziraphale and shoved him behind an old oak tree.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale struggled against his panicked grip. “Goodness, whatever is the matter with you? Did you spend too much time in the sun and get delirious again?”

“Nuh.”

“You certainly seem delirious.”

“M’ not.” He was increasingly dizzy though, and he lost hold of Aziraphale. “Look. Look. It could happen, couldn’t it?”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. “What could?”

“The…” Crowley tried to inhale, and this time he didn’t get any air at all. “The… whatsit. Them. Blam!”

His vision fuzzed out, and he fell over.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale caught him and eased him to sit on the grass. “Dear chap, you must tell me what’s wrong. Are we in danger?”

Crowley wheezed in response.

“Are you certain we’re in danger?”

Crowley wheezed less certainly.

“Hmm.” Frowning, Aziraphale rubbed his arm and looked around. “Well, I certainly don’t see any trains. And if by ‘Them’ you mean giant ants, I shall reiterate my statement that you’ve been watching far too many horror films before bed.”

That was so insulting that Crowley almost managed to reply. But he couldn’t get enough air, not yet.

The immediate panic was starting to die down, though. The pressure on his chest eased, and he managed a labored gulp of air.

As soon as he got a little air, his mind started to clear. Which meant he immediately winced with embarrassment. “Er. Hi. Sorry. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” With a worried smile, Aziraphale took his hand and patted. “Although I do hope you feel up to explaining. Your claim that there was a train was rather alarming.”

“Sorry. Metaphorical train.” Heart still racing, Crowley leaned back against the tree and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand. “Dunno. I just…”

“Had a panic attack?” Aziraphale asked kindly.

“Nrng.”

“Was it about anything in particular?”

“Nah. Nah. I don’t think so.” He looked around nervously anyway. “I was just planting marigolds, and then wham. Couldn’t breathe, freaked out, whole nine yards.”

The frown returned to Aziraphale’s face. “We only have one yard. Granted, it is quite extensive, but…”

“Figure of speech.” He definitely didn’t have the energy to try to explain that or anything else right now. Except there was one thing he did have to explain. “Er. Angel. I don’t think I can do dinner. Sitting in a restaurant is eurgh.”

Terrific. That was a really eloquent explanation. 

Aziraphale sat beside him under the tree and put an arm around his shoulders. “I understand.”

“Gosh, really?”

“Of course. If you’re having sudden feelings of dread in our very own garden, a restaurant would be intolerable.” Ducking down, Aziraphale met his gaze through the dark glasses. “I truly don’t believe there’s anything to fear, you know. You’re home and perfectly safe. There’s been no indications that either of our old sides have any interest in us.”

“Right. Right.” Gulping, Crowley tried to drag his mind around to that concept. “I’m home.”

“Yes, you are. We both are.”

Crowley took a deep breath. It came more easily this time, which was a relief. Technically, he didn’t actually need to breathe, but that didn’t matter in the throes of a panic attack.

He curled up against Aziraphale’s side and just relaxed for a while. Enjoying the cool afternoon breeze, the smell of flowers, the utter lack of anyone trying to kill them. No more oncoming metaphorical trains.

“Okay. Okay,” he said when he was sure he’d recovered. “We’ll try dinner out tomorrow, maybe. You wanna head in and we’ll cook something together for tonight?”

Aziraphale beamed at him. “That sounds so lovely.”

They helped each other up, and Crowley glanced around once more. Then, since all was well, he and Aziraphale joined hands and strolled back to the cottage together.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #book omens #crowley #aziraphale

[disabled-dean]

Told my therapist (who is trans) that I was working on adopting more "masculine" mannerisms to improve my social anxiety so I'm not like, wondering how people are perceiving my gender and trying to figure out how to act in response to that

And she was like, do you know the different kinds of bro head nods

And I'm like- literally bestie I do not what are you talking about??

So she showed me the different ones (there is more than one??) and explained when to do them and was like- alright for therapy homework I want you to go to a hardware store and practice doing the bro nod to challange your comfort zone, which is the exact OPPOSITE of my primary objective of existing in public spaces (not being perceived) but also it was cute as hell

#mtf ftm solidarity #transgender #transmasc #personal

[gabessquishytum]

tw stepfamily fantasy, age difference. Human AU.

I promise this is Dreamling, stay with me lol

When Time dies, Night is eager to find herself a strapping young husband. Enter Hob, who has heard that the widow Endless is filthy rich. Don't get him wrong, Night IS a beautiful woman, but it's the money he's after. He charms her easily enough, and in less than 6 months they're married and living together in her huge mansion... it's only then that Hob gets to know her kids.

He knew she had 7 of them, of course, but, well, this is a lot. The eldest two seem well-adjusted enough, sort of, but they're early 20's and out of the house already? The youngest boy ran away from home and no one bothered to look for him. Del and Despair aren't getting any mental health care they seem to badly need. And then there's Desire and Dream.

Desire is beautiful and charming and smart as a whip, but they change sexual partners more often than most people do underwear and they're only 16. They love their twin but are awful to their other siblings and downright cruel to Dream.

And Dream... he's a piece of work, yes. But he's pretty. Just as pretty as his sibling, if not more. He's got a bratty cruelty that echoes Desire's but could still be corrected by a firm hand... He mocks Hob mercilessly for his humble origins and because Hob married for money, and to Dream's heartless mother of all people! He's so closed off to affection, shouts at Hob even while bursting into tears when Hob tells him Hob could at least be a friend to him, since 34 is a bit young to be a father figure to a teen. But oh, Hob can tell: this boy is so, so lonely. Dream wishes someone would take him, even if only for money...

Desire, of course, immediately figures out that Hob isn't actually in love with Night and promply tries to seduce him. Hob gently rejects them, of course, but they try again. And again. And again. And... well. And it's hard. It's really hard to resist them. They're really really beautiful, of course, and they're so good at this... but Hob's one braincell that's still getting blood knows better than to fuck a 16-year-old with that huge a cruel streak. That's just asking for trouble. And besides, Hob likes a challenge. Desire is just... too easy.

Dream, however... what a little temptation he is. He's so reserved. He tries to focus on his art. He tries to pay Hob little mind, but can't help to listen and smile at Hob's tales. He's gotten his heart broken more times than anyone should have any right to at his age, and is just as depressed as Despair and only marginally better at hiding it... Now, that's a challenge. And such an easy target at the same time. Seducing him would be so fun! Hob can just imagine how outraged Dream would be at first... but Hob can be convincing, and Dream so badly needs someone to want him. And Hob is so horny, with Desire touching him all day, whispering filth in his ear, trying to sext him and send him nudes. You see, Night has a pretty low libido, too low if you ask Hob, and Hob's hand is a poor substitute for sex with another person.

Hob doesn't want Night to divorce him, of course, so he's wary of looking for sex outside the house, afraid to get caught if he's out too long with no explanation (he doesn't need to work now after all) and he wouldn't stoop so low as to take advantage of the house staff...

Isn't it so convenient that Dream just turned 18?

-PA

(reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated)

Oh fuck oh FUCK this is hot. AND HEY PA ANON I MISSED YOU <333

Hob feels like he's living inside a powder keg, honestly. He thought that marrying for money and living a life of luxury would be wonderful, but now he even longs for a job that would just get him out of the house. He's trapped in horny hell and he's sure that he's going to do something terrible and/or stupid. As a last ditch attempt, he sweetly suggests to Night that the two of them could take a little vacation - just the two of them, to the gorgeous little tropical vacation spot that the family owns. Death and Destiny can watch over the kids, and Night can have a well deserved break!

Alas, she just smiles and kisses Hob’s cheek. Unfortunately she's far too busy for a holiday right now. But she encourages Hob to go and soak up the sun - he's starting to look pale and stressed, and she can't have her toyboy husband looking under the weather. Her one request is that Hob should take Dream with him. She's noticed that Dream and Desire's fights have been getting more and more serious recently, and she's tired of the screaming matches. Some time apart will be beneficial for the siblings. And it will make Night's life a lot quieter.

Hob can't backtrack now, so he agrees. And he's even more glad to get away, because when Desire finds out that Dream has been sent off on holiday with Hob, they throw an absolute fit. Naked. In Hob’s bedroom. Hob’s single braincell really needs to get out of there.

It's not like Dream is even pleased to be forcibly packed off on holiday with his "step-father". He spends the whole journey in snide silence, occasionally muttering under his breath about Hob being a total creep. (And he's right, because Hob is still shamefully horny about the beautiful 18 year old. He nearly embarrasses himself completely when Dream grabs his hand because they hit turbulence.)

But it's funny how you can hate someone and still want to fuck them. Older men were always Desire's territory, but Dream is starting to see the appeal. He's starting to think that his mother is a fool for letting Hob out of her sight. When he catches his first glimpse of Hob on the beach in his swimwear, Dream makes up his mind: he's going to be a bad person.

Hob fucks him for the first time on the beach-house balcony. There are stars above them, possibly - Dream doesn't really recall. He's sure that Hob recalls even less. He's desperate, primal, unhinged. He cums, and just keeps going until both of them are exhausted. Obviously somebody needs to take care of him properly, if this is how wound up he gets.

Well. The Endless family have always been fucked up. This is just another chapter in the story. Maybe Night will even be grateful to her son, for keeping her husband happy...

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw toxic relationship #cw dubcon #cw dubious consent #cw stepcest #cw age gap #tagged dubcon because of age issues only.

[dumbass-hyperfixations]

I started watching 911 recently (and I’m not gonna lie, it’s mostly because of Buck’s coming out because I wasn’t gonna start watching yet a show with a very potential queerbait in the middle of an otherwise very diverse and interesting looking cast) and I’ve been loving it, and even though I’m only on season 3 now, I really want to contribute with an idea on how the show could start up Eddie’s own coming out journey (which is hopefully in the cards)

Now, I don’t know how much closer Michael Grant gets to everyone else on the show (since I’m on season 3, I haven’t really seen him interact much with anyone but Bobby and Hen from the 118, and idk if that changes or if his relationship with other characters deepens over the years), but I would really like him to be present at Chimney and Maddie’s wedding. And maybe Tommy and Buck are being cute on the dancefloor, and then the camera pans to Eddie, who is seated to the side with Marisol, looking at the pair a little wistfully (just enough for us to know that maybe sitting there with Marisol isn’t exactly what he wants to do). And then, the camera would go to Michael, noticing Eddie’s look, and Marisol’s sort of dejected and bored expression. And he sees a couple that not only appears unhappy with each other, but also sees a whole lot of himself in Eddie.

So, as the wedding reception is coming to a close, Michael is at the bar as Eddie comes by, looking for one more round as the bartender announces the last call. And as he waits for the drink, Michael strikes up a conversation with a bit of small talk (again, idk if they’re close enough to have a deep conversation right off the bat), and then goes, “hey, did Bobby or Athena ever tell you why we got divorced?”

And Eddie stumbles over the answer a bit awkwardly, like yeah, it was because, well, um, you know, because you’re …

And Michael chuckles, putting him out of his misery with a “a flaming homosexual? Yeah. No sense in beating around the bush about it. At least not anymore. You know, I was so deep in denial I never even kissed a man until I was in my fifties?”

“Really? So you’ve … only been with women until you came out?” Eddie asks and Michael nods. “And you’re sure you’re not bisexual?”

To which Michael laughs and reassures him that no, not bisexual, just a very very repressed gay man. Then, he drives his not-so-subtle point home by saying:

“And even still, I don’t have many regrets about my life. I got two incredible kids out of it, and I can’t imagine my life without them. My only regret, though, is that I spent fifteen years with a woman I couldn’t love the way she loved me, and I wasn’t even man enough to give her a chance to look for someone better. Fifteen years. That’s a hell of a lot of time to take away from someone.”

And while he speaks, we see Eddie glance across the room, to Marisol fussing over Chris. And, inevitably, to Buck laughing along with something Chimney said on the other side of the room. And when he looks back at Michael, he sees a very knowing expression on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” Eddies asks, still guarded as hell, to which Michael chuckles.

“Nothing, man. I guess I just officially entered my lonely gay drunk at the bar days. But if I can pass a little wisdom. If can already you feel it in your gut that you’re not with the right person, maybe don’t be like me and spend the next fifteen years trying to figure out what you already know.”

And then he leaves, and BOOM, Eddie is forced to realize things he would much rather keep repressed.

#i know im new to the fandom but gosh #michael and eddie’s stories parallel each other in so many ways #ESPECIALLY IF eddie is going to come out as gay at some point #and i would just die to see michael having his paternal guiding hand in his coming out #it doesn’t even have to be the wedding it could just be a family fire house gathering #just let michael tell his story to eddie and maybe wake him up to non-comphet possibilities in life 😭😭 #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 show #gay eddie diaz #buddie #911 buddie #eddie x buck #buck x eddie #eddie diaz x evan buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz

[bigball-thefrog]

The Mighty Sand Dragon And The Maiden:Crocodile X Reader pt3

______________________________

Pt1 Pt2

The third and final part of the dragon Crocodile series. This was probably one of my favorite things to write. I hope everyone enjoys it and I'll be back again next week

Warnings/Tags:

Fluff

Mentions of blood and injuries

Mentions of cauterization

Fantasy AU

______________________________

Reader POV

It had been a year since I first fought Crocodile and I have been training hard to finally take him down. I have been thinking about our previous fights to try and think of what his weakness could be and I think I might have figured it out. It must be water! Because of his powers as the sand dragon, he can turn into sand, and water makes sand clump together and makes it harder for the sand to move around so freely like it does when the wind blows! It must be he weakness as well. So for my journey I packed my usual supplies but this time I also kept a secret bottle of water under my clothes so I could catch him off guard.

I made it to the entrance of his cave and put my bags down, gripping my sword and keeping the bottle of water strapped to my leg I walked closer. I was about to call out for him when I heard sounds of a struggle coming from inside the cave. I put away my sword and walked inside. Not too far from the entrance I saw Crocodile on the ground, bloodied and bruised, and a knight standing in front of him. I walked closer and spoke up, "What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted at the knight. He was startled with my sudden presence behind him but spoke, "Ah, young maiden. I am just slaying this dragon that has put you under his spell!" "Spell?! What spell??" "Oh, you poor thing. Everyone in town has noticed your disappearances every couple of months and everyone has noticed that you always leave in the direction of the Sand Dragons cave. So you must've been put under his evil spell and for he past year, have been forced to do his evil bidding!" "BULLSHIT!!! I'VE BEEN COMING HERE TO DEFEAT THE DRAGON MYSELF BECAUSE I WANT TO CHANGE MY OWN DESTINY OF BEING A POOR HELPLESS MAIDEN!!!" The knight was shocked at my reason for coming here. He then started laughing right in my face, "That is hilarious! See, you are clearly under the dragons spell, no maiden has the strength to defeat a dragon!~ Worry not maiden, I shall defeat the dragon and escorts you back home safely, maybe you can even reward this handsome knight by being my little bride~" The knight winked at me and held up his sword to deliver the final blow to Crocodile. Quickly taking out my sword, I got in front of him and blocked his attack. The knight looked shocked again and became frustrated, "Stand down maiden, stop defending this evil creature and let me kill it!" "No! This is my destiny and I am not going to let you take it away from me!" "This behavior is traitorous! I'll have you executed with this dragon!"

Crocodile POV:

I layed on the ground, holding my wounds as I watched the maiden take on the knight. They are a brave one for risking being a traitor to their kingdom just to kill me. Something in me felt uneasy seeing them in a serious battle this time, all the times I fought them I just did it to amuse myself, but now this was an actual battle, one that could end in their death. I didn't like the fact they could die but the pain from my own injuries prevented me from getting up and helping. But then that damm knight raised his sword and slashed them across the face, and that made me see red...

Seeing the maiden fall to the ground and crying out as they held their bleeding face gave me a burst of rage fueld adrenaline, I got up and growled. Sand surrounded me and I transformed back into my dragon form. Once the sand disappeared I roared loudly and caused the ground to shake, the knight fell and looked up at me in fear. He didn't even have time to gain his confidence back before I stood on him and crushed the lower half of his body. He screamed in pain but I didn't move, I began to use my powers to suck every last drop of moisture out of his body. His body slowly began to shrivel up, all the moisture in his body gone like rain on the dessert sand. Within a matter of seconds his body was nothing but a husk and armor, I stood over him and this time I completely crushed him, when I moved my hand there was nothing but dust, I bent down and huffed and the knight was gone...

I looked back at the maiden, still bleeding and my face softened a little and I turned to them. I transformed back to my human form and knelt down next to them, I used my hand to hold them up and wiped their little tears away with my thumb. I looked down at the injury and smirked a little, a scar right across the face, just like mine.... Hearing their soft cries of pain snapped me out of my thoughts and made me start to think of how I could help, I looked at my hook and got an idea. I brought the hook up to my face and gently began to blow fire on it to heat it up. Once it was red I looked back at the maiden, "I'm gonna help, but it's going to hurt like hell, do you promise to try and keep still while I stop the bleeding?" the maiden nodded and gripped onto my arm for support. I carefully placed the tip of the red hot hook on the cut and started to cauterize the cut. They screamed and cried more but thankfully didn't move much as I continued to stop the bleeding. I managed to stop the bleeding on her face and removed the hook. They stopped crying and was just breathing heavily now. Seeing them no longer injured I let out a sigh of exaust and collapsed next to them.

Reader POV

My eyes widened when I saw Crocodile collapse next to me, they look exhausted and were still injured as well, if he didn't receive any medical attention soon he might die. Remembering my supplies I brought I quickly ran out the cave to grab my bag. I kneeled back down next to him and got out all the medical supplies I brought. I took the water bottle out from under my clothes and used a towel to clean him, ironic that I brought this extra water to kill him and am now using it to save his life. After cleaning him I took out a needle and thread, disinfecting ointment and began stitching up what I could. He grunted, feeling the needle piercing his skin and looked up at me, "What on earth are you doing? Isn't this what you wanted? For me to die.." "Well yes but I wanted to kill you myself remember? I didn't want some stupid knight to do it... So I'm saving you know so I can kill you properly later.." He chuckled and leaned his head back to try and relax while I stitched him up. "Thank you... For rescuing me from that knight." "No problem. He had no right to injure a maiden such as yourself.." I smiled a little and spoke again, "Kind of ironic that it was the dragon that saved me and not the knight." we both chuckled and went quiet again. After patching him up he sat up again and we just stared at each other, eventually I got the courage to ask a question I've always wanted to ask, "Why is it that dragons always kidnap maidens? And they usually come back unharmed, even after days of being with the dragon, why is that?" Crocodile pondered for a second then sighed, "Truthfully, we're lonely. Creatures are scared of us in our dragon form, and in our human form we're still fear because of the wings and tail. Other dragons are assholes and we don't get along with each other.. We're usually just looking for a companion that won't leave us... That's why we go after maidens because they're usually described as kind and loving creatures..." my heart went soft and I got closer to him, "How come you haven't taken a maiden? Aren't you lonely?" He scowled, "I don't need a companion. I've learned to not let people come close to my heart..." I frowned and looked down, "How about I stay with you?" He looked at me confused and was about to say something but I cut him off, "I stay here and train to fight you and you don't have to worry about getting close to someone because you already have a heads up that we're going to fight. That way you know not to get attached and you have some company!" Crocodile looked at me still skeptical so I added in, "Also, if I go back home without the knight, I'll probably be executed so you're stuck with me." He rolled his eyes and sighed before muttering out, "fine..." I raised my hand to shake his and he gripped my hand tightly and shook it, "You have now officially been taken by the dragon, it is now your duty to set yourself free from my clutches or else you'll be mine for the rest of your life, deal?" He asked. I nodded, "Deal!"

And so started my new life with the dragon I was going to kill..

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I'll post next week and to those that have made requests I'll get you next week probably but I promise you I will write your request and post it, it just may be a week or two before I get to it. I love you all and see you next week

Kelly🐸

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