#Angry Birds Blood And Guts

[smart-fire-werewolf]

Angry Birds Blood And Guts Art Revealed 😡🐥🤜🏻🕷🩸 (Art by Me)

#angry birds #Angry Birds Blood And Guts #nintendo #playstaion #mircosoft #Fanart #digital art #rovio entertainment corporation #Anime / Manga #kawaii

[munsonsreputation]

I SHOULD HATE YOU

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [22.3k]

warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, enemies to lovers, reader and steve use foul language towards each other (bitch, asshole, ect). blood (one of them gets hurt...but not bcs of each other), eventual smut (oral: both m and f receiving, fingering, piv, multiple o's,) minors gtfo before i superkick you!!!

summary: You and Steve Harrington hate each other’s guts…or at least you should, that is until a camp outing reveals everything that you both have been trying to hide.

You desperately wanted to see what everyone else saw in Steve Harrington that you didn’t. All those words of how he changed so much and had this entire redemption arc when he decided to finally stop giving shit about stupid high school social orders and commit his life to be the esteemed and reliable babysitter.

Hell, even Robin Buckley, the one girl who really couldn’t stand him a few years ago, was now his best friend, and Nancy Wheeler, his ex-girlfriend, could actually stand to be in his presence without wanting to cringe and vomit because she actually dated him. 

You just couldn’t see it in him no matter how hard you tried, not even the kids could convince you that Steve wasn’t all that bad anymore. If anything they gushed about how much they admired him. How he was the cool older brother figure that they all wanted and had wrapped around their fingers ready at their beck and call.

Everyone loved Steve, but to you it was just bullshit.

“Why the sad face, doll?”

Steve pouted feignedly, causing you to roll your eyes, slapping the flies away from your skin as you watched him pitch his stupid tent.

“I’m not sad. I’m more so annoyed.” You grunted out with a glare. 

“I told you to bring bug spray.” He reminded shaking his head, clearly amused seeing you get angry at the innocent flies.

“I did, but it doesn’t fucking work and for your information, I’m annoyed because you’re here.” You said through gritted teeth, slapping your neck as another one landed but flew away before you could kill it.

Steve snapped the poles into place, engrossed with his task.

“Well if it makes you feel any better,” he chimed in, standing with a straight smirk across his face, “I’m not particularly happy with your presence either seeing as though you’re not doing shit besides standing there being a bitch.”

Your eyes widened, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at him in disbelief. But by this point it shouldn’t have been so surprising granted that you and Steve never stopped bickering, even when you both should have known to ignore each other. 

“Oh, go fuck yourself, Harrington!” You shouted, turning on your heel and flipping him the bird as you walked away.

“Tell that to my right hand, sweet cheeks!” He called out with a whistle, reveling in the art of getting under your skin.

Nance and Jonathan exchanged amused glances, painfully familiar with how much you and Steve despised each other yet somehow got here alive without slitting each other's throats. But that didn’t seem like it was going to be lasting long seeing as though this was now the beginning to a very long night.

You plopped down onto the foldable chair, still wearing a scowl that didn’t seem to want to cease even with the distance you created between you and him.

“We barely got here and you’re already at each other's throats.”

Nancy shook her head not understanding why you both couldn’t be adults about this whole thing.

“He started it!” You insisted, pointing your finger in his direction.

Jonathan couldn’t help but jump in with a chuckle, feeling as if this was payback for all those times he and his brother Will gave his mom a hard time. Seriously, dealing with you both was identical to watching two toddlers tattle tale on each other for every little thing before toys and fists were thrown. 

“So now you’re playing the blame game?” He suspected.

You clicked your tongue, sitting up straighter, shoulders pulled back as you crossed your legs and placed your hands on top of your knees, ready to mock Steve and his privileged life that he just had to leave behind for the day. 

“Why couldn’t he just have stayed home in his stupid mansion, driving around in his stupid Beemer, where he could be stupid all by himself and leave us out of his stupid stupidity.” 

You seriously looked like you could end him with your bare hands — and if they didn’t know better they’d let you have a go at it just to see how far you would get. Surely Steve would put up a good fight too, probably make it quick and easy so he didn’t have to hear your voice anymore, but you would definitely be taking your time with him. 

“He’s the only one who’s ever been camping and if something happens then he’ll know what to do.”

Nancy attempted to reason with you, hoping you could see it through just this once, for just a couple hours.

You shrugged your shoulders, watching him in your peripheral vision.

“Whatever, as long as he stays away from me then I can make it through the next 24 hours.” You waved off. 

But Jonathan lugged up a box, plopping it before your feet with a loud clatter coming from inside of it, staring at you with a smile. 

“If you want to make it to at least tonight, I’d suggest you start getting to work.”

Cursing under your breath, you were beginning to rethink your choices of saying ‘yes’ to trip when you had not one outdoorsy bone in your body and surely no bone, not even a cell that could stand Steve Harrington.

But getting it pitched up yourself wasn’t all that bad considering the fact that the instructions were self explanatory and had images to make it easy to follow. It was that nagging, infuriating voice that belonged to Steve that was getting on your last nerve. Like a mosquito in your ear, he kept buzzing and buzzing and—

“Try again, you’re holding the pole backwards, smarty pants!” He called out, smirking to himself when you tried to ignore him by shutting him out and doing it at your own pace.

But ignoring him only fueled his determination to keep going, poking and prodding at your patience that was withering away by the second. Every snarky smartass remark was like nails on a chalkboard, causing your eye to twitch, teeth to grind, and self-restraint to grow weaker. 

“Your tent is gonna fly away in the middle of the night if you don’t make use of those stakes!”

“You shoulda listened to me, I told you that pole was in the wrong slot!”

“How about you put a little elbow grease into it and stop trying to put it together like you’re the goddamn princess of the camp ground!”

Your blood was damn nearly boiling, knuckles going white as you shoved the stupid pole into the other side, trying to get the frame to stay together. But your anger and rushing only made it worse, the wobbling frame threatening to give out on itself if you tried to force it in anymore than you already had. His whiny voice and every taunt that came with it just made you want to take the pole and use it for something else — silencing him.

Nancy and Robin had scolded Steve multiple times, knowing that your fuse with him was ridiculously short. Eddie and Jonathan, well-acquainted with your dynamic, kept their distance, observing from the sidelines not wanting to be caught in the impending storm between you two.

Eddie watched you carefully,  your jaw clenching, air pushing out of your nostrils and he was sure that if it was humanly possible there would be a hot steam coming from the top of your head. 

“Knock it off, man, she’s getting pissed.” He warned his friend, taking a swig of his beer, while he darted between you both.

Steve however, wasn’t threatened in the slightest, continuing to provoke you with another snide comment. 

“She won’t be pissed for long if a bear comes and mauls her in the middle of the night because she doesn’t know how to pitch a damn—”

That was the last straw.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You screamed, ripping off the pole and storming towards Steve not caring how insane you looked.

Eddie quickly got on his feet, dropping his beverage and intervening just in time. 

“Not so fast!” He lifted you off the ground holding you back as Jonathan managed to wrangle the pole out of your hands.

Steve was having a fit of laughter, hunching over himself and grabbing at his midsection.

“You’re so easy to piss off.” He cackled, shaking his head at you and giving himself an imaginary point for already getting under your skin in the first hour of being there.

“You’re such an asshole!” You fumed, continuing to struggle in Eddie's grasp.

He kept his hold tight knowing if there was any room left for you to get away, it would most likely end with warfare. And while he and your friends never liked to come in between your tumultuous relationship, they knew letting you both rip each other apart wouldn't do anyone good – even if it gave them some peace.  

Nancy had had enough — the trip was supposed to be peaceful, getting to be one with nature and finally getting away from the kids for once, but of course, that wouldn’t happen seeing as though you and Steve acted like children possessed.

“Enough!” She shouted, bringing temporary silence as you both could feel the seriousness in her voice.

“You’re right, Steve is an asshole and because he feels so sorry, what he’s gonna do is finish pitching up your tent while we go to the lake to cool off. Got it?”

She turned towards him, her eyes widening, signaling Steve to comply for the sake of peace just this once.

But instead, he protested, standing up defiantly, “Hell no! I wouldn’t even pitch her tent if—”

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.” Nancy interrupted, not leaving any room for negotiation because at this point it was futile.

Robin gestured to the partially completed frame with a small shrug.

“It’s the least you can do, half of it is already done.” She said, hoping to lighten his mood about it. 

Reluctantly Steve huffed, glaring as he made his way over to you, faces only inches apart as everyone began to sigh, seeing as though you’d both be starting again. Eddie gripped you tight, not even giving you any wiggle room to try anything.

“You’re lucky Robin’s staying in your tent because if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t even think about finishing it.” Steve rasped begrudgingly smirking because you were a prisoner in shackles.

But you jutted your neck forward as if you were about to headbutt him which caused him to flinch back, holding his arm out front of his body. That alone made you cackle, just a taste of what you could have done to get him to shut up.

“Get to work, boy scout.” You sneered. 

Throwing Eddie’s arms off your midsection, you brushed right past him going towards your bag to get out a bikini to change into while the rest of them whispered their scoldings, particularly punctuating the importance of Steve not messing with you anymore because they couldn’t stand it.

Jonathan nudged Steve’s shoulder, a pleading expression on his face.

“Would it kill you to not be such a dickhead to her for one whole day?”

Steve dramatically gasped, wrapping his arms around his own neck pretending to suffocate, “Y-yes… I-I can’t breathe, no oxygen!”

His best friend rolled her eyes, unimpressed with his childish behavior “You’re such a dweeb, I swear.” she said, smacking the top of his head as she walked past him and followed you to the bathrooms.

“You heard her, get to work.”

Nance snapped her fingers, pointing sharply at the tent hoping that for once he’d listen.

Jonathan and Eddie decided to serve as watch guards knowing that if no one was here to watch him and make sure he did what he was told, he would probably let you sleep with a half assed tent while Robin stayed with him and Eddie. 

Maybe all you needed was to get as far away as possible from him… for as long as you could.

Stepping into the lake, the water felt nice against your skin, cooling down the sizzling blood still rushing in your veins and easing your body to a state of relaxation. If you closed your eyes hard enough and let the sun bask down on your face, you could pretend as if he wasn’t just a few feet away from you, grumbling like a whiny child forced into time out to write a hundred sentences.

You honestly should’ve known better than to agree to come along the trip knowing Steve was going to infect it with his existence, but your friends had convinced you otherwise, selling it as an opportunity to get out of Hawkins for a weekend and just enjoy each other’s company.

If you had known that Steve was going to be even more of a pain in the ass than usual, you would have never even thought about getting into Eddie van and driving all the way here with no other means to leave.

“I just don’t understand how he’s nice to everyone but you.” Robin pondered aloud, trying to understand the mystery between your relationship.

“It’s because he wants me dead, Robin, simple as that.” You deadpanned, seeing no other explanation to it other than pure hatred.

“Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn’t want you dead.” Nancy laughed, brushing off your comment knowing that Steve didn’t hate you that much.

“Oh my bad, I meant that he wants me to suffer a long excruciating death by letting his ego take up all the space in the room.”

Your voice leaked of sarcasm, eliciting laughs from the girls who found humor in what you saw as the truth.

Robin and Nancy knew there was no way the both of you could really hate each other as much as you both liked to think you did. If you really did hate each other for real, then you wouldn’t even dare to tolerate each other's presence but you both did — and while sure most times it was for the sake of your friends, by now one of you should’ve been fed up enough to leave.

Their laughter faded, Robin staring at you with a mischievous smirk as you waded in the water, enjoying the temporary peace. Perhaps she could be out of line with the thoughts brewing up in her head, but it was just a theory — a possible reasoning for you and Steve’s differences.

“Did you ever stop and think that maybe you two might get along better if you liked each other in a different way?” She wiggled her brows before biting her lip. 

And like that, the peace was gone.

“Absolutely fucking not!” You shouted, rejecting it with clear disgust as you began splashing her in retaliation.

She giggled some more, trying to shield herself from the large splashes as Nancy swam off to the side, happy that at least you were having some fun now, even if the conversation still revolved around Steve. Robin swam through the splashes, wrapping her hands around yours to make them stop before you both began laughing, letting her hug you as an apology for her words.

“You’re so lucky I love you.” You grumbled, leaning closer to her to rest your cheek against her shoulder.

“Opposites attract, you know.” She continued to tease and you poked at her side, glaring half jokingly.

“Not him and I.” You declared sternly, gaze moving back up to the shore where the men still gathered near your tent.

It was nice not having to watch you stick your nose up and complain about the flies as if it was the end of the world. Without you in his ear and sights, he could finally enjoy just a smidge of the day, even if it was pitching his mortal enemy’s tent. If he didn’t think about it too much, he’d forget that it would be keeping you safe and you’d wake up the next morning, living another day to make his life miserable.

Tugging the tarp into place, he zipped it up and down making sure it slid smoothly before dusting off his hands and taking a step back to examine your his work. He tilted his head, shrugging his shoulders not in the mood to fix the lousy frame.

“Besides the crooked roof, it’s not that bad.” He announced, more so glad that his punishment was over.

Jonathan grinned, patting him on the back with a hopeful look as if this was the turning point.

“Well you should tell her she didn’t do a bad job then! Say something nice to her for once.”

Steive chortled looking over to him in disbelief before wagging his finger mockingly.

“Over my dead body.”

Jonathan sighed, sliding away from him and going to grab another beer for himself. Slowly but surely he was giving up on the idea of trying to get you and Steve to get along for the weekend. At this point, he and Nance’s plan was failing terribly, seeing as though neither of you said one good thing to each other all day and it probably would never happen.

Eddie rolled his eyes, resting his back against the tree as he watched you and the girls spinning in the water enjoying yourselves.

“Why can’t you both just put your differences aside and get along?” He wondered, seeing as though you were both capable of being happy, just why not with each other.

Steve darted his eyes up to his obviously, “She’s had it out for me since day one. Never liked me and never even tried to.”

Walking over to your bags, he picked them up along with Robin’s placing them in the tent, but he more so threw yours in, not giving a damn if the tent shook with it.

Eddie sighed, going over to fix it nicely into a corner when Steve turned away.

“To be fair, you haven’t tried to like her either so the odds were never going to be in your favor to begin with.” Jonathan pointed out truthfully.

How were the both of you ever going to get along if you held so much against each other without trying to see it through?

“You sure you don’t have a thing for her deep down? They always say that people who hate each other really just have to settle their differences in bed so they can see eye to eye.” Eddie snickered, patting his back stiffly. 

The thought alone made Steve sick. Kissing you? Hugging you? Actually enjoying your existence? That sounded like a nightmare from hell if he’d ever dreamt one. Eddie and Jonathan found it a bit comical, even taking notice of their friends silence, his mind thinking up all the dirty and—

A hard smack landed on Eddie’s arm.

“I don’t know where the hell you heard that from, but I wouldn’t even sleep with her if we were the last two people on Earth.” Steve sneered, nose sticking up with disgust.

Edide rubbed at the skin, he and Jonathan watched as Steve walked away, tugging his shirt off and beginning to make his way into the lake without another word. They knew it was inevitable, the hatred that was brewing in his bones for you, was just a ploy for something else — something you and him didn’t see quite but everyone else did.

“Twenty they finally kiss?” Jonathan challenged, turning to him with an open hand.

Eddie cackled, smirking smugly.

“Twenty-five they end up hooking up tonight,” he added to the wager and to the lines that you and him would cross.

“Deal.”

You rolled your eyes, detaching yourself from Robin catching the sight of Steve inching his way into the lake. Soon after Jonathan and Eddie followed suit, running in like chickens with their heads cut off and splashing all of you with their boy-ness.

It frustrated you more than the way it should have made you angry — the way all your friends could seamlessly get along with him as if he wasn't the worst person you ever met. He even embraced Jonathan in a bromance hug as if at one point in their lives they didn’t despise each other for the girl they both liked.

It was so… confusing?

You let them bask in the presence of Steve, knowing that while you didn’t enjoy time with him, you would never try to rob the rest of your friends from it. Instead you went off on your own, going in just a bit deeper for some privacy as they lingered a few feet behind you.

“Don’t go too far out!” Nancy called out to you knowing you weren’t the best swimmer.

“I know, mom!” You singsonged, looking up at the sky and taking it all in — random cloud shapes and the birds that flocked above.

The camp ground was two hours out from Hawkins, tucked away in a nicer part of town, of course, Steve was the one who suggested the place. Nevertheless it was actually breathtaking, a nice contrast to the small town that you all came from which didn’t have a lake that compared to this, just good ole’ Lover’s Lake and Sattler Quarry.

This would probably be your first and last time camping, so you were trying to make the most of it, not letting the little scuffle totally ruin your experience. You had wished you brought your polaroid along, wanting to snap photos of the view to remember it by but in hindsight it was better to live in the moment.

“Let’s play sharks and minnows!” Robin announced cheerfully, wanting to seize the moment and do something fun she remembered from childhood.

You didn’t pay them any mind, your silence serving as an answer that you’d be sitting that game out and enjoying watching them instead.

Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting loudly, “I call shark!”

They erupted in shrieks, splashing their way farthest from Steve, getting a head start since he was a skilled swimmer. 

Eddie, who was a distance away yelled out, “Ready, set, go!”

Steve didn’t even bother mapping out everyone else, they weren’t his prey, you were.

“Better get moving, princess!”

Steve wore an irritatingly smug look, catching your eyes before he dove under the water and made his way towards you.

Your eyes widened, flaring your arms back as you attempted to doggy paddle away from him but it was obvious that he had the upper hand with his skill set. The tips of your toes started to slip from the ground, water pushed up to your collarbones as you still tried to get away from him without drowning.

It was futile trying to lose him, you didn’t even dare to inch further back knowing by then the water would submerge you fully. Instead you opted to sweep the water against him the closer he got to you, though he was unaffected by it still swimming with ease.

“Steve, stop! Go away!” You shouted, kicking your legs trying to get him back.

“Gotcha!” He grinned, popping his head out of the water to stand up straight and wrap his arms around your midsection

You pushed at his chest, trying to get away. “You dickwad! I wasn’t even playing!”

“Too bad!” He stuck his tongue out at you, gripping your skin just a tad tighter and hoisting your legs around his hips.

“Steve put me down, I swear to fucking…oh my god!” You exclaimed, quickly moving your arms around his neck when you felt the woosh of water against your back when he moved you both deeper into the water.

You watched your friends over his shoulder become smaller and smaller, until they were little specks on the shore waving with shit eating grins on their faces knowing that Steve wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt you.

Despite how disgusted you were being so close to him, you had no choice but to hang on for dear life. Steve gave you a bit of height with you over his hips, and had it not been for that, you’d be drowning by now.

“S-Steve, please I can’t swim!” You begged, eyes finally daring to meet him and for once you weren’t looking at him with such disgust but with desperation.

His face contorted with surprise, eyebrows raised and mouth held wide open before tugging up into a lopsided smirk.

“Never thought I’d ever hear that word come out of your mouth… let me hear it one more time?”

His grip barely went slack as you whimpered, using your legs to jerk him back to you before you slapped his chest, fingers gripping his biceps under the water and letting your nails dig painfully into his skin.

“Get me back to the shallow! Right now!” You growled, watching as he winced a bit hissing in a sharp breath feeling the sting.

Seriously, if you were a better swimmer, you’d be out of his grasp by now and holding his head underwater until he floated like dead weight. He had the advantage over you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least put up a fight.

“What’s the magic word?” He teased, exhaling as your nails eased out of his skin yet somehow you still held on to him not wanting to take a risk no matter how revolting he was.

“I. hate. you!” You screamed, starting to thrash around in his arms hoping that your struggle would annoy him so much that he’d bring you back to the shallow just so he wouldn’t have to deal with you.

But instead, he loosened his grip again, using it against you because just as he suspected, you seized your movements immediately, looped your hands around his neck, clinging to him like a koala.

“Still waiting on that magic word.” He singsoned, not being too cruel this time around, wrapping his arms securely around your frame, not actually thinking he’d ever let you go.

You hoped your friends couldn’t read your lips from there or else you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“Please.” You gave in, whispering it against his neck.

The hair on the back of his neck stood tall, shivers creeping up his spine feeling a twinge of sympathy for you, but not too much to spare, when you cursed his name right after the fact. Satisfied, he spun around, guiding the two of you back to the bank where you were more comfortable.

Letting out a breath of relief, you relaxed your arms and slightly loosened your legs from around his waist, a little surprised at yourself for being able to stand his skin sticking to yours for so long. This was the most contact you and Steve had ever endured with each other. All of the previous encounters consisted of you smacking him and him chasing you with something gross like a dead roach.

“You didn’t think I’d actually let you drown, did you?” Steve asked, looking down at you.

You rolled your eyes, staring up at him past your lashes. “I don’t know, you’re quite the asshole so I thought so.”

He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, tsking disapprovingly.

“Such a shame you think so lowly of me,” he said acting hurt as rolled your eyes yet again, “here’s payback for earlier.”

His arms abruptly left your body, letting you actually slip out of his hold watching as you went down with a screech that quickly died. You shut your eyes tightly, arms pushing yourself up to the surface where you coughed roughly, his stupid laughter filling your ears when you came to.

“I still hate you!”

You huffed, splashing him once more before trudging towards your friends who watched with glee, thankful for the five minutes of free entertainment that didn’t involve them.

Steve stood where he was, arms crossed, face dripping with lake water, but still wearing a wide smile, more than happy with his little stunt and the fact that he got your blood pressure rising. Something about riling you up, filled him up with a sort of satisfaction, yet he wouldn’t ever admit that you were the only person who could get under his skin the same way he did you.

Surprisingly enough, he stayed away from you during the rest of the time in the lake. Instead, he bothered Eddie and Robin with his stupid ideas to race across the lake and find the biggest pebble to see who could skip it the farthest.

Thankfully for you, you got the bathe in the sunlight, enjoying conversation with Jonathan and Nancy who at first bothered you about the whole you in his arms thing, but eventually gave up when you gave them the death stare. You obviously were holding back something considering you never missed a beat to berate Steve, but this time around, you didn’t even want to get into it — they wondered why?

As the sun slowly began to tumble, casting oranges and pinks in the sky, you felt your fingertips becoming overly pruney, cueing your desire to get out and get freshened up for the evening.

“I’m gonna go wash up.” You announced raising a hand over your forehead to block the light as you stared out at them in the water.

“We’ll be out in a bit!” Robin called through her laughter, continuing her fun in chasing Eddie and Jonathan around in the water with a stick she had found.

You carefully tiptoed through the rocks, making your way up to the camp ground. The tent wasn’t half bad, and to your surprise Steve had actually followed through on his task of finishing it. You’d guess that if he wasn’t so intimidated by Nancy and her threats, he wouldn’t even think about doing it, nevertheless at least now you could say Steve did something useful for you for once, even if it was against his will.

Your bag was already conveniently placed in your tent, so you grabbed your toiletries, a clean towel, and your change of clothes before you walked over to the communal bathrooms where the showers were also located. Thankfully it was just you and your friends on the grounds, so it was fairly clean and had more privacy than usual which was always nice.

You pulled the curtains to one of the stalls back, assessing the area before putting your things down on the shelf and hanging your towel on the railing, stepping in and pulling the curtains closed. Stripping off your swimwear, you wringed out the excess water and hung them on the adjacent wall letting them air dry for the time being.

Cranking the lever, the shower head spritzed alive, letting semi-warm water sprinkle across your skin, rinsing you free of the lake water. You hummed to yourself, raking your fingers through the knots and tangles of your hair, doing your best to get them out before rubbing the skin over your neck and chest.

“You really should have picked the stall away from the sunlight.”

Steve’s voice echoed, halting his footsteps in the doorway as he stared at the figure behind the curtain, the only other person in here was you and he could definitely tell by your pedicured toes peeking under the gap of the shower.

Clenching your jaw, your hands stopped its movements over your body, turning your head over your shoulder as you were met with Steve’s shadow staring right on the other side. If you squinted hard enough you could make out the smirking features on his face, but to your obvious surprise all you could do was shriek.

“Oh my god!” You shielded yourself with your arms as if that would help, seeing as though the curtain alone wasn’t doing its job of saving you your dignity.

He held his hands up, gesturing his arm up and down at the curtain.

“Relax, I can only see your shadow because of the sun.” He explained nonchalantly, walking into the stall beside yours and switching the water on.

You swallowed, still not trusting him completely as you stepped forward, peeling back the curtain a bit to see if anyone else was coming that way.

“Are the rest of them coming? I need to save myself the embarrassment and move to another stall if they are.” You asked rapidly, really hoping that neither of your friends or any visitors would be greeted with your naked silhouette the second they stepped in there.

“They’re playing chicken in the lake so no, they won’t be coming any time soon.” He responded, sounding actually sincere for once, because while he enjoyed messing with you, he still respected your privacy enough to know setting you up like that wasn’t cool.

See… there were boundaries between your hatred, probably ones so low the bar was on the floor...but they were boundaries.

“Thank god.” You sighed, tugging the portion of the curtain closed and walking back into the stream of the water, squeezing some shampoo into your hands as you began lathering it through your scalp.

“By the way, are your tits pierced or were you just excited to see me?”

Your eyes widened, a gasp leaving your mouth while your fingers stopped. His incessant laughter bounced off the walls and rang in your ears like the worst kind of pain, wishing you had taken your chances earlier and at least tried to drown him.

“You’re such a pig!” You said, banging your hands on his side of the wall until his laughter died down scoffing.

He grunted, tapping your wall back harder. “Learn how to take a joke and stop getting your panties in a twist.”

“What’s a joke is that rumor about you being so largely endowed.” You began pretending to gag.

“I heard Stacy Burnham asked you if it was even in and when you said yes she was so disappointed.” You sassed sharply, hoping it would embarrass him enough to shut up.

“I didn’t even hook up with Stacy Burnham!” He retorted ridiculously, knowing that rumor was so absurd and untrue.

You rolled your eyes and wished he could see you, “Not surprised, it probably didn’t feel like much for you either when you’re packing less than three inches.”

Steve scoffed loudly, knowing that was definitely not true and it wasn’t just his ego talking. 

“Oh trust me, you wouldn’t even be able to take half of what I’m packing.”

“A half inch? Yeah, cause I’d be too busy crying with disappointment.” You faked sobbed, flipping him off though he couldn’t even see you. 

He didn’t have a comeback, clearly not in the mood to argue about what he was packing because truly you’d only believe him if you saw it for yourself. And trust him, he’d burn himself alive before ever thinking about seeing you naked or letting you see him naked.

That was just totally out of the question… and like he told Eddie, it would never happen even if you both were the last people on Earth.

“Let me borrow some soap.” Steve muttered knocking on your wall, hand dangling above your stall waiting for you to pass it over.

“No.” You chuckled, smacking his hand before you grabbed your body wash and rubbed it against your palms to create bubbles.

“Why not?” He coaxed, not putting his hand back down into his stall as you sighed and went on about washing your body.

“You tried to kill me earlier and let me drown.” You reminded him.

“And what would you call that little stunt back there when you tried to stab me to death?” He retorted.

You were quiet, rolling your eyes knowing that he wouldn’t let this go any time soon, so in order to save both of your energies, you simply picked up the bottle of shampoo, thrusting it up into his hand as he chuckled to himself and grabbed it.

“See! Sharing is caring, now, if you need to borrow some brains you know where to find me.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You snapped, trying to enjoy the rest of your shower despite knowing that the only thing that separated you both was a wall.

You showered in complete silence, only Steve knocking on your wall to give you back the products, fingers tapping against his palm to silently ask you for the next. After a few minutes you had finished, finally shutting the water off as you dried down.

You slipped your legs through a fresh pair of underwear, letting it snap against your skin as you worked the fitted cami over your torso and then slipped on the shorts that you rolled over your hips to stop them from falling.

Whipping the curtain back, you didn’t wait for Steve to finish, simply leaving him as you went back towards the tents to hang your still wet swimsuit over a tree branch and stuffing your things back into your bag.

After a few minutes he came out, walking over with his towel around his neck, sporting a loose t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. 

“Well you’re definitely getting eaten alive by mosquitoes tonight.” He shook his head at your rookie mistake, laughing along with it. 

You looked down at yourself, much of your skin left exposed for the same flies that badgered you earlier to feast upon.

“Give me a break, I didn’t know there would be so many flies.”

He walked over to his stuff, plucking out the aerosol can and tossing it over to you, “Here.” 

You caught it, looking over the bottle label as he spoke, “It’s the only brand of bug spray that actually works.” 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, twisting the bottle open and misting it over your arms and legs, letting the product coat every inch with a light sheen.

You tossed it back, working it into your skin as Steve took his turn to spray it on his exposed arms and neck knowing from experience that waking up to a hundred fly bites was the most uncomfortable itchy pain to be in.

“How were the showers?” Eddie huffed, water dripped off his body as he made his way up to you both, the rest of them following behind.

“Fine, just don’t pick the stall directly at the entrance. Wouldn’t want anyone getting an eye full.”

Steve smirked as you turned beet red, tucking your face into your chest and walking to your bag to pretend to search for something.

Nancy wrapped her arms around herself, biting back the cool air that was coming in from the day winding down.

“Why don’t you guys get started on the fire so that way we can have dinner soon.”

Sunset was just nearly finishing up, only about a half hour of sunlight left before darkness would set in. Steve knew from experience that keeping the fire overnight would be the best bet at having means to some light and warmth.

He nodded, looking around for the items to get it going, “Yeah, sure, where’s the charcoal?”

“Charcoal?” Jonthan asked, confused, scratching the temple of his head, not remembering seeing it when you were all loading Eddie’s van that morning.

Steve nodded his head obviously, looking around at the group. “For the fire? I told you guys to pick it up.”

You sighed, standing up to face them with your hands on your hips. “Don’t tell me you guys forgot it.” 

“Are we doomed if we say we did?” Eddie spoke, a guilty inflection in his voice, because he was totally in charge of that but it had slipped his mind.

Steve shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just means that now we have to find some sticks and leaves. Do it the old fashioned way.”

Robin the ever so considerate one, starting snapping her fingers, pointing between you and Steve biting back her sneaky smile.

“So stop standing around and start searching! We don’t want to lose daylight before then.”

Taking a deep breath in you held back your comments of how you didn’t want to go anywhere alone with Steve since he obviously had a death wish for you. However it was obvious that this was going to be a group effort, and if you wanted to make it out of here alive, you would just have to suck it up and follow Steve’s lead.

He stared down at your bare feet, pointing at your tent.

“Put some shoes on and let’s go.” He said, before the others smiled contently, running off to the showers and leaving you both alone again.

“This is the last time I’m ever camping.” You grumbled sliding on a fresh pair of socks and slipping your shoes on, bending to tie them up.

Steve tapped his foot against the grass, shaking his head at you and your ability to nit-pick every little thing.

“You know, it would be more enjoyable if you’d stop making every minor inconvenience a big deal.”

You finished off the ties with a tug, walking over to him and glaring at his hypocrisy with an instance you were all too familiar with.

“Are you really one to be talking Mr. I got mad at Dustin Henderson for using up all my hairspray even when my date flaked on me?”

He hated that you remembered that even when it had been months ago since it happened. Neither you nor Dustin let him live it down because it was the first time he let a girl get in between his extraordinary ability to be the charming babysitter he made himself out to be. Dustin, so annoyed with his attitude, didn’t ask Steve for any rides to the arcade nor did he visit him at Scoops for a whole two weeks.

Instead, you took on the babysitting role, driving him to the arcade, dropping him off to school, and even picking the kid up at Star Court when all his friends caught a ride with Steve to be dropped off back at their place. Steve thought Dustin was being ridiculous about the whole thing until you pulled up in your car, wearing the biggest smile as you rolled down your window and sent him a cold smirk.

“Not such a great babysitter anymore, huh?” You laughed, watching as his face fell and Dustin got into the passenger of your car, waving goodbye to his friends while you sped off.

Safe to say, Steve apologized to the kid, terribly sorry and embarrassed by his behavior and even throwing in a bottle of hairspray and a free banana split every time he came into Scoops as an apology gift.

The two of you followed the trail a few feet out from the campground, trucking through an uneven rocky path and outgrown bushes. He was clearly more familiar with the area given his experience, knowing exactly where to go, taking a shortcut that passed cut through the bumpy trail and led you to a small area of dirt and trees.

“We’re looking for sticks about this size, but really any twig or stick will do.” He spoke, reaching down to pick up a large stick and show it to you.

You looked around, eyes peeled out for the sticks that were scattered in the area.

“And what about leaves?” you asked.

“Those too, but they’ve gotta be dry, almost crumbly.” He specified, walking off to start the collection process.

“Got it.”

You and Steve worked the best when there was no talking involved, perhaps that's why your friends always suggested going out to see a movie at the theaters instead of at each other's homes where you both would clearly not give a damn about causing a disturbance. But despite that, right then you both were going a whole ten minutes without insulting one another or making threats to see the other dead.

When you picked up the wrong stick of a leaf that wasn’t crumbly enough, he just grunted, shaking his head until you dropped it and found another that would suffice. That system was working well so far, so maybe that was the key: limited talking.

“Go drop that pile off and come back for more, we’re gonna need a whole bunch to last until morning.” Steve instructed, noticing that you had already gathered quite a bit in your arms.

You peered into his arms, his pile about the same size as yours, maybe a little smaller.

“Want me to take some of yours?” You suggested, wanting to save you both a few more trips up there.

He nodded, carefully stacking them on top of what you already had, steadying the pile and removing the bigger ones to ensure it didn’t tumble over while you were walking down. When you got all that you could carry, Steve gave you a cautious look.

“Be careful and walk slowly, the path gets rocky when you get closer to the camp. If you fall, just scream and I’ll hear you.” He was so serious about it, like a true camp counselor, or as you liked to call him...

“Heard you loud and clear, boy scout.” You hummed, turning around and making your way carefully down the trail.

For once you actually listened to what he said, taking your time and not rushing your way down knowing it wouldn’t do you or him any good if you ended up taking a spill and losing all the fire starter then scratching yourself up in the process. You remembered the shortcut he took, a right turn that he conveniently marked with a X in the dirt. Just a little more walking before the campsite came back into view and still no signs of your friends being done yet.

You dumped the sticks and leaves near the outside of the fire pit that was in the center of the camp. Dusting your hands off and taking a deep breath, you looked back up the hilly trail where Steve was somewhere up there waiting for you to come back.

“C’mon, princess.” You muttered to yourself, feet taking you back there with fast steps trying to beat the sunlight.

Clearly the outdoors just wasn’t your thing, easily becoming winded despite the fact that the trail wasn’t that steep. But you were trying to cut yourself some slack because for a rookie, you kinda got the hang of keeping your balance and not getting lost through the unknown woods.

“H-how many more piles do we need? I can’t do this five more times.” You huffed, hands on your hips as you caught your breath watching Steve dump a few more sticks in a pile on the ground.

He peered over at you, wiping the sweat that beaded on his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Probably one more, will do.” He answered, strolling further up, just to grab a bit more in case.

You honestly didn’t know how a small town city boy like him was so good at things like this — usually he was only good at picking up girls and making a doofus out of himself when he didn’t know how to talk about anything else beside him. 

Maybe it was those annual Harrington trips he took when he was a little boy or maybe he really was secretly a boy scout and been hiding it all along, either way, thank god it was him doing most of the dirty work and not you.

“Should I bring these down or do you want me to wait?” You shouted loud enough for him to hear glancing over at the piles he made while you picked a few more sticks up.

“You can— fuck!” He winced, clutching his palm in his other hand, starting to feel a sharp pain shoot in around the area. 

Hastily you dropped the sticks, abandoning the pile and racing to where he was while trying not to fall so that you could see what exactly was going on. There was a pained look on his face, teeth biting into his bottom lip as he turned away and tried to shake it off. But alas you reached for his wrist, bringing his hand towards you to access.

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” You whispered, bringing the injured hand closer to see if the gash was deep or not, but you couldn’t quite tell with the small pooling of blood in the way.

Steve jutted his chin downwards, showing you the jagged stone responsible.

“I didn’t see it when I went for the stick.” He explained. 

You nodded, releasing his wrist gently. “C’mon, we need to get it cleaned and bandaged before it gets infected.”

“I gotta grab the—”

“No!” You yelped, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt when he attempted to bend down for more sticks despite his injury.

He stopped, visibly stunned at your sudden attentiveness that was usually never present when it came to him.

“I’ll carry those, but you don’t pick up or hold anything else. If a splinter gets in there I’ll be the one needing to dig it out and it'll only hurt more.” You said sternly, shaking your head at him like he should have known better. 

“I thought you liked seeing me in pain.” Steve smirked somehow still able to be a little shit even with a fucked up hand. 

“I do,” You tilted your head, but sighed, “But I really don’t need the one person who actually knows what they’re doing to be the first one dead.”

“Fine by me.” Steve shrugged, forced to watch you pick up all the sticks and leaves by yourself, he followed behind you as you occasionally looked behind your shoulder to see if he was okay.

When you both finally made it back to the tents, you dropped the pile, pointing at the foldable chairs a few feet from the pit.

“Go over there.” You instructed, brushing past him with vigor as you went to your tent to retrieve the first aid kit you packed for emergencies like this, though you were really hoping you didn’t have to use it.

You flipped the case open, taking a look at all the materials it contained while you walked over to him, kneeling in front of him and deciding what you were going to do. Grabbing an alcohol wipe, you disinfected your hands before you tapped his knee.

“Show me.” You demanded, holding your hand out, until he reluctantly placed it in yours giving you a closer look at the gash.

The blood had stopped so you knew it wasn’t that deep of a cut that would require stitches or staples, but it most definitely needed to be wrapped up to prevent an infection and trip to the emergency room.

You reached into the kit for a fresh alcohol pad, ripping it open with your teeth as you steadied his hand in yours.

“Just get it over with already.” He muttered, head turning away anticipating the sting that was going to be worse than your nails digging into him.

“Don’t be a wimp.” You joked, swiping it gently over the area to get it clear from the drying blood and any outside contaminants. He didn’t pull back, only sucking in a deep breath from the mild burn but after a few seconds the worst part was done.

“See, not so bad, right, big boy?” You laughed, patting his knee again before throwing aside the bloodied napkin as he swallowed thickly, waiting for your next steps.

He watched you carefully, grabbing some sort of ointment, squeezing a small dollop onto your finger before you dabbed it over the cut making sure to coat it evenly. Then you placed two pieces of gauze over the top to keep it extra clean and enclosed. 

You repositioned his arm, letting his elbow rest upright on his knee.

“I’m gonna tape you up now, so try not to get it wet, but if you do I can always rewrap it.” You told him, getting the tape ready.

Steve was surprised by your skill, expertly maneuvering the tape through his fingers, across his palm and over his wrist, repeating it a few times to ensure that the gauze wouldn’t budge and would keep the cut sealed tight.

“Where’d you learn how to do this?” He asked curiously, watching as you smoothed out the creases as you went.

You shrugged, doing one last wrap around for good measure, “I had a phase where I thought I wanted to be a nurse.” You grinned, teeth wrapping around the excess tape to rip it off before you flattened the remainder over his wrist.

He nodded slowly, stammering out,“T-thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” You brushed it off, cleaning up the bloody wipes and putting the first aid kit back in your bag after disinfecting your hands once more. 

The sun was nearly covered by the clouds, painting the sky a darker orange shade as nightfall threatened to spill over soon. At this point, the fire needed to be started, now — no more distractions and no more arguing.

“So?” You shot Steve a look, then back down at the fire pit, “Wanna tell me what I need to do to get this thing started or what?”

Steve was more than capable of getting it done himself with one good hand, but seeing as though you were pretty stern in his efforts to not carry a single stick, not even a paper light leaf, he knew this would be no different. Instead he moved to stay beside you, acting as supervisor just so he could make sure you were doing the right thing.

“You’re gonna wanna start by making a bed with the leaves.” He instructed, watching as you dropped down on your hands and knees to get low enough into the pit as you threw them in, trying your best to make it as leveled as possible.

“It looks good,” He praised, giving you a tight smile when you looked up at him waiting for the next steps.

“You want to do it the old fashioned way or do you want to use Eddie’s lighter?” He chuckled, knowing he’d pick the easy way just like you were going to.

“Fuck that, I’m not a cave woman, where the hell is the lighter?” You strided towards his and Eddie’s tent, rummaging through the metal heads duffle bag until you felt the familiar body of the lighter.

You went back into place, flicked it on and looked at Steve cautiously until he nodded, granting you permission to set the bed of leaves on fire. Blindlessly you passed the lighter up to him, watching as the flames slowly engulfed the leaves and began to crackle.

“Now start adding a few sticks. We’re gonna need to add more throughout the night to feed the fire.” He said watching as you carefully threw some in, doing your best to cover the bed beneath it until only a little of the fire was exposed.

“Alright, that’s good enough.” He bent down patting your shoulder and feeling the warmth of the fire starting to get hotter.

“Well that wasn’t so hard.” You grinned to yourself dusting off your hands and knees, happy with your outdoor accomplishments thus far.

“Technically the lighter made the fire.” He shot back, flicking it between you both as you rolled your eyes and blew the flame out.

“Oh shut it.” You muttered, going to busy yourself with something else while Steve put the lighter back where it came from.

You propped open the rest of the chairs, randomly placing them around everyones tents and two extra ones right in front of the fire pit. Steve was watching the fire, making sure it didn’t get too big or burned too slowly — so far the bed of leaves you built were holding up and it didn’t seem like it’d be going out until morning tomorrow.

After a few minutes the voices of your friends came tumbling out of the bathrooms, seeing them all dressed in their PJ’s that somehow showed they were more prepared than you. All of them decked out in long sleeves, hoodies, and sweatpants — god, you wished you got the memo.

“Damn this is cool! I’ve only ever seen a campfire in movies!” Eddie enthusiastically ran closer, peering into the bright orange pit.

You looked over at all of them, dramatically holding your arms wide open.

“Were you guys having a foursome or something?! Steve and I did all the work and he even got banged up in the process.” You said, walking over to him to lift and show them his injured hand.

Robin gasped, running up to his side to check up on him, obviously worried for her best friend, “What the heck happened.”

Steve shrugged looking over at you with a somewhat grateful look, “Grazed a sharp rock, but it’s fine. She wrapped it up and we’re all good to go now.”

“Well shit, sorry we took so long,” Jonathan apologized half-heartedly, while his mind was celebrating that you both actually seemed to work well together when it was needed. 

“Eddie and Robin thought they saw a spider in the showers so we all had to take turns using one stall.” Nancy rolled her eyes, giving you an apologetic look, the both of you knowing Robin and Eddie were a tad bit dramatic at times.

“It’s fine, but you can make it up to us by cooking.” You grinned, you and Steve giving each other a sly look before you pointed at the icebox of food waiting to be cooked.

So you and Steve finally got to kick back… in silence of course.

You both sat in the foldable chairs, watching as the four worked diligently over the fire — Nancy holding skewers of hot dogs over the flame, Robin prodding at the potatoes wrapped in foil with a pair of tongs, Jonathan toasting the hot dog buns one by one, and Eddie feeding the fire with a few more smaller sticks.

He peered over at your silent figure, watching the way you zoned off into your own world, somehow right beside him yet a world away. You were probably thinking about something else, either all the remarks you wanted to snap his way yet were held back or maybe you were making a list of new ones to call him tomorrow. 

But he cleared his throat, attempting to get you back here with him, “Do you uhh, want a drink?” Steve asked, breaking the silence.

You blinked, turning to watch him flip open the cooler to grab himself a beer while he looked back at you waiting for your request. 

“Water, please.” You said, watching as he dug his non injured hand into the ice box to pull you out an ice cold water bottle, shutting the box closed.

“Thank you.” You said softly twisting it open to take a sip.

While doing so, you furrowed your brows, noticing the way that Steve struggled with the twist off since he was using his non-dominant hand. He almost went to put the bottle in his mouth to use his pearly whites as an opener before you quickly capped off your drink and stepped in.

“Give it here.” You said, taking the glass from his hand, and tucking the lid under your shirt to stop it from pinching your skin as you effortlessly twisted it open.

“Thank you.” Steve nodded with a small smile, taking it from you as you shook your head with a grin and went back to watching your friends.

Steve couldn’t wrap his head around how you could be so selfless but at the same time so selfish. You’d do anything your friends asked of you at the drop of a hat, maybe even without them asking to begin with — you’d just jump in and do it. But when it came to him, half the time you didn’t give a damn, ignoring every warning or piece of unwarranted advice he’d thrown your way.

It was utterly confusing, considering that you were the most selfless person to him today than you’d ever been before. You could’ve left him to deal with the cut by himself seeing as though he still had one good hand left, and honestly you could’ve left him to do the stick and leaf collecting all by himself… but you didn’t.

On a regular day if he even dared to ask for your help, the answer would be “no,” with no explanation other than the fact that you just didn’t want to have anything to do with him. So it struck a chord in his mind, wondering why now? It couldn’t just be because you both were in the middle of nowhere, he knew that much. 

Why all of a sudden was there this shift, the one where you helped him without receiving anything back?

“How is the food coming along?” You whistled towards your friends.

Nancy smiled widely, holding one of the skewers up, “It’s almost done! Maybe two more minutes!”

Robin pouted, snapping the metal tongs to get your attention, “The potatoes need a bit more time, they’re still hard as rocks.” she huffed, resting her chin on her knees.

“Did you poke them with holes?” You wondered as she frowned and shook her head.

“Was I supposed to? I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” She apologized ridiculously for something that wasn’t a big deal.

You shook your head shooting her a reassuring smile.

“S’okay! They’re gonna cook through, but sometimes poking holes just speeds it up a bit… It's okay! If anything, we can have them for breakfast.”

“Okie dokie!” She smiled, happy that she didn’t entirely sit there for nothing. 

He hated himself for watching you so carefully, taking notice of the bright smile you flashed against the moonlight and how your voice was so syrupy sweet. He never took notice of it before, but you had a radiance about you, something that everyone seemed to catch except him.

Maybe it was because half the time you were shooting daggers through him and screaming your lungs off, but now, for the first time, he felt like he was seeing a different side of you — the one he tried to fight off knowing for so long.

“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brows, waving your hand in front of Steve’s face.

He shook his head, snapping out of it and nodding awkwardly, “Y-yeah, I’m fine… you?”

“I’m okay.” You told him,  turning your attention back to your friends. 

Maybe it was your tiredness that was preventing you from being the bitch that you usually were to him or maybe you felt a little bad for him because of his injuries, but whatever it was filled the air with some sort of calmness that usually wasn’t around when he was in your vicinity.

Really, on most days, if you’d caught Steve staring at you, which most times he wasn’t unless it was full of revulsion, you would have snapped and told him to take a lap, but it was almost as if you could feel what his eyes were doing.

His gaze drinking you in slowly like the beer in his hands and trying to understand your craft. He didn’t stare through you, nor at you, but to you… trying to get under your skin in a way he hadn’t done before.

It felt…weird, so awkwardly weird. On a regular day the both of you could barely go two minutes without cursing each other out the second either of you spoke a word to each other. Now all of a sudden you both had your P’s and Q’s ready for each other along with genuine concerns about the other’s wellbeing?

God, you both couldn’t wait for it to go back to normal.

“Food’s ready!” Eddie called out, slicing through the unspoken tension.

You and Steve stood up, heading towards the food knowing you were both dying to have something in your systems after a long day. Beating him to it, you plated him a hot dog swiftly moving on as if the little gesture meant nothing.

“Condiments?” You asked, picking up the ketchup bottle, giving it a good shake before squeezing a dollop on your plate.

“Huh?” He asked confused, too wound up about your niceness.

“Do you want any condiments on your hot dog?” You clarified once more, raising your brow up at him.

He needed to stop reading into things so much.

“Oh, y-yeah” He nodded, watching as you squeezed some for him, “and mustard please,” he said, and you nodded, reaching for the yellow bottle and doing the same before you capped it off and left him in the dust when you went to sit with the girls.

Eddie snuck up from behind him, just nearly whispering into his ear lowly, “Aren’t you two being friendly for once?”

He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows when Steve looked back at him a bit startled. He rolled his eyes, walking over to the chairs near their tent and plopping down.

“She’s pitying me because of my hand.”

“Or she just genuinely wants to help you out?” Jonathan chimed in taking a seat beside him.

Steve shook his head, picking up his food, “I doubt that. She’s probably gonna use this against me for the rest of eternity.” He replied before taking a bite.

“I don’t think so man, I think she actually cares, and I think you like that she cares.” Eddie waved his finger in the air before poking at his cheek.

Steve snapped his teeth, pretending to bite the finger that Eddie quickly pulled away. Jonathan laughed at the banter because of course Eddie had to be the one to stir the pot when things were staring to cool and settle.

“She doesn’t give a damn about me….”

Steve started, trailing his eyes to where you were, watching you share whispers to the girls before you met his eyes for a split second.

“She still hates my guts.” He said as you snapped your eyes back to Nancy and Robin.

“Did we miss something while you guys were gone?” Nancy raised her brows, glancing back at Steve and the boys who were engrossed in their own conversations whilst they ate.

You shook your head towards her, swallowing your food before speaking.

“Nope, why do you say that?” You buzzed, wondering why all of a sudden she thought something had happened.

Robin chimed in swiftly, nudging your arm with a weak punch, shooting you a more than obvious look.

“Cause you guys haven’t tried to kill each other for the past hour and a half and you actually could stand to sit beside him without arguing.”

You tilted your head at her incredulously.

“I thought you guys wanted us to get along?”

“Oh, we do…” Nancy nodded enthusiastically, “we’re just wondering what made it happen considering you both tried to kill each other a few hours ago.”

Letting out a deep breath, you tried to give your best irritated look under your tiredness.

“We’re just tired that’s all. We’ve run out of insults and to be quite honest, I need to recharge my battery with some sleep before attempting to murder him tomorrow. Before you know it we’ll be at each other’s throats again.” You explained hoping they would drop it.

But of course they didn’t.

“Would it kill you to, I don’t know, be a little more positive on the outlook of you and Steve’s relationship.” Robin beamed hopefully.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you glanced over at Steve’s figure.

“He still hates me,” you said, meeting his orbs split, “I know it,” you muttered, tearing your eyes away.

Neither Nancy, nor Eddie, or Jonathan, and Robin didn’t believe a goddamn word that came out of your mouths when it came to each other. Clearly things were starting to unfold and whatever it was that happened when they weren’t around to see it was obviously just the catalyst.

So many things that went unspoken for way too long were lingering in the air and they all knew you needed the space to confront it.After a while of eating, Nancy dramatically yawned, gesturing her boyfriend over to her with wide eyes silently telling him to go along with what she was doing, without you or Steve taking notice.

“We’re gonna head to bed now.” She announced, tiredly clinging to her boyfriend's side.

Jonathan nodded, wrapping his arms over her shoulders.

“Yeah, we’ll see you guys in the morning.” He said, the two of them beginning to get into their tents while calling out their goodnights to you all.

“Wake us up if you need anything.” You called out as they both hummed and zipped up their tarp for the night.

You were going to turn in too, really you were more than tired, just needing a good night's rest so that you’d be ready to go in the morning. Throwing out your plate, you walked over to your tent to grab your toothbrush and other nighttime necessities.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” You said, walking towards the bathrooms.

“Wait up,” Steve called out, grabbing his own brush and jogging towards where you waited so you guys could go together.

Robin tilted her head towards your tent, as Eddie nodded, swiftly grabbing his lighter and pre rolls from his duffle bag and joining Robin inside the structure. That honestly wasn’t a part of the plan, seeing as though he was going to keep the blunt to himself, but now it was just convenient and would make the perfect excuse.

Steve didn’t bother to settle to the empty sink beside yours, instead he switched the water on letting you run your brush under the faucet first before he did his. You squeezed a strip of toothpaste over your bristles before doing the same to his guessing he forgot to pack his own which he totally did.

The both of you stood in front of the mirror, brushing in silence with the water trickling weakly. Your eyes drifted from his face to his hand that rested at his side stiffly. You knew it was probably still a little sore, but by tomorrow morning the pain should subside enough for him to move it a little more freely. 

“Do you want me to rewrap your hand?” You offered, mouth still full of toothpaste as you spoke mumbly. 

He met your eyes in the mirror, lifting his hand towards you, trusting your opinion rather than his own. 

“What do you think?”

You stopped your brushing for just a second, leaving the brush between your cheek and teeth as you picked up his hand and gave it a good look to see if there was any oozing blood or loose tape — which there was neither.

Putting his arm down gently, you shook your head. “Looks fine, I’ll just clean it and change the gauze in the morning.”

“Okay.” He mumbled, smiling softly.

Steve let you rinse first, leaning up against the wall as he watched you spit out the residue and wipe your mouth clean. You stepped away, letting him have his go while you reached into your small toiletry bag, placing your brush back inside and twisting open your lip balm to smooth over your lips.

“Want some?” You raised your brow, seeing him watch you while he swigged some water in his mouth.

He spat, turning off the water and looking at the tube, “Birthday cake?” He questioned the flavor on the label.

“Tastes like vanilla and strawberries.” You said as he shrugged, puckering his lips towards you as you applied a thin layer before capping it off and throwing it back into your bag.

He smacked his lips together, a bit of his tongue coming out to lick at it, “I can’t taste it?”

“You’re not actually supposed to eat it, Steve.” You chided, shaking your head as you both walked to the tents.

“Then why would they advertise it as birthday cake if I can’t taste the cake?” He retorted, still trying to lick at his slimy lips to taste it.

You didn’t want to get into with him over some stupid lip balm flavor so instead you held back, listening to his lips smacking, persistent on getting to try the artificial taste while you tried not to laugh. As you got closer to the tents, a different smell lingered in the air along with the smokey aroma of the fire.

“Do you smell that?” You sniffed the air, turning to Steve seeing him do the same.

He sniffled in a few times, deciphering the smell and after a few seconds, he knew exactly what it was, an unmistakable likeness to the back of Eddie’s van.

“It’s weed.”

You looked around, realizing the absence of Eddie and Robin who were just sitting near the campfire before you went to the bathroom. Now, you noticed your tent that was half unzipped was completely sealed and if you listened close enough you could hear the whispers being spoken from inside.

You stomped over to them, unzipping the tarp, pulling it roughly.

“Are you guys insane?” You hissed, tossing in your toiletry bag while staring at them in annoyance.

“Insanely hiiiigh.” Robin hiccuped with a giggle joined by Eddie’s snorts while he took another hit.

Steve peered in from behind you, his expression stern. 

“You’re not even supposed to bring that stuff onto the camp ground, you’re gonna get us kicked out, dumbass.” Steve scolded, ripping the joint from Eddie and putting it out against the ground.

“Hey! That was a special strain!” Eddie argued, attempting to reach for it but Steve pulled it behind his back, not letting up.

“I don’t care.” You said dryly, “you need to get out and go to your tent so I can sleep.”

You attempted to pull him out by the arm but he didn’t budge as easily as you thought he would.

“No, wait! Ten more minutes!” Robin whined, smacking your arm away from her friend, “You guys are letting all the good stuff out!” 

Zipping up the tent, you and Steve backed away defeatedly. You ran your hands through your hair, closing your eyes briefly trying not to let their little antics tick you off despite your exhaustion. 

“Ten minutes and I’m counting!” You warned, thumping the top of the tent before you flopped down onto the chairs hoping time would fly faster.

Steve looked at you apologetically, holding back his joking comment about how it didn’t matter that he built your tent, seeing as though you were locked out, but he didn’t want to make you more irritated than you already were… surprising right?

“Night?” He said, shooting you a remorseful smile when he stopped in front of your chair. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” You yawned, waving him off as you hugged yourself to bear the cold clad in nothing but your tank and shorts.

He nodded walking to his tent a few feet away, toeing off his shoes before giving you one last look until he zipped his tent closed. He reached for the small flashlight he packed, putting it on its lowest setting so that Eddie could see when he came in. Giving his pillow a pat, he laid back pulling his blanket over himself and attempting to close his eyes and rest.

Sleep should have come easy seeing as though he had been up since seven in the morning, yet he still couldn’t fall into slumber no matter how hard he tried. He knew it wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t in his bedroom because he’d been camping times before and sleep naturally came easy but tonight it just wasn’t budging.

He shifted uncomfortably, aware of the passing minutes that stretched beyond ten, and Eddie still hadn't joined him. He was totally sure he didn’t even hear you give them another warning from the outside, meaning that you were definitely asleep on that chair.

Sitting up to peek through the small gap he left open, there you were — head tilted back, eyes closed, arms hugging your body, seemingly oblivious to the bitter cold that was going to leave you with hypothermia. If he was really feeling like being an asshole to you, he would’ve left you out there to suffer the consequences of your actions, but he couldn’t.

Quietly stepping outside, Steve approached, bending down to gently nudge you awake.

“Psttt, wake up," he whispered, cautious not to disturb Nancy and Jonathan nearby who were dead asleep by now.

You responded with a sleepy mumble, lips curling up as you somehow shifted deeper into the chair that was not designed to sleep in like that no matter how tired someone could be.

He tried again, this time more rigid in his efforts by grabbing your hand and squeezing it, “Wake up.”

Feeling his toasty hand in yours, you groggily opened your eyes, dazed orbs looking into his.

“What?” You grumbled, eyes opening to be met with Steve’s filled with confusion.

Without much explaining, he squeezed your hand again, pulling you up, “You’re crashing in my tent tonight.” 

You had no choice but to let him pull you along, stumbling behind him as sleep still clouded your senses. 

“Why?” You groaned, rubbing at your eyes while he guided you to his tent where he widened the tarp, gesturing for you to enter.

“Because that special strain Eddie was talking about was for sleep. Neither of them are gonna budge till morning.” He informed you, resting a gentle hand on the small of your back to keep you up right as you lazily toed your shoes off.

“Well fuck me.” You muttered under your breath crouching when you stepped into the small space.

He snorted behind you, “In your dreams.” He said before zipping it up.

“Shut up,” you groaned, crawling towards the empty space beside him.

Now it was starting to feel like things were going back to normal.

You settled into what would have been Eddie’s side, a half fluffed pillow under your head and nothing else. Though their overall set up was way more comfortable than what you and Robin had going on in yours. Steve had layered a sleeping mat beneath the comforter, making the surface a little more plush that way no rocks or gravel could be felt under the tarp — plus it added an extra layer of warmth, something you desperately needed right now.

Laying on your back, you left a good distance between you both, wrapping your arms around yourself once again hoping that now you’d be able to sleep comfortably even if it was beside Steve. Closing your eyes, you focused on breathing trying to not think so hard about the shivers in your bones knowing you wouldn’t be able to feel them once you fell asleep.

“I can hear your teeth clattering.” Steve sighed, casting a glance towards you where you laid beside him, starting to rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt to generate warmth.

“I obviously wasn’t prepared for this, and my blanket is in my tent.” You muttered, eyes still closed and tucking your knees into yourself to find some semblance of comfort.

He made a thoughtful noise, lifting up his blanket and turning his body towards you. You could feel the space tighten, the fuzzy material of his blanket skimming your bare skin.

“Get under here.” He whispered, nodding his head when you finally opened your eyes looking at him with uncertainty and confusion.

You didn’t know what to make of it, if this was some kind of cruel joke he was playing on you, where he was actually going to hog it for himself and let you spend the rest of the night with your teeth clattering. 

But deep down he wasn’t all that bad, sure he poked fun at you and made your blood boil like no other, but when it came down to morals, he had some saved for you… at least for now it seemed like. 

Steve raised his brow at your hesitance, lifting the blanket up higher.

“What’re you waiting for? Do you want to freeze to death because by all means let me know.” He challenged pretending as if he wouldn’t care. 

You swallowed thickly, turning your back towards him as you cautiously scooted under the blanket, feeling its comforting weight draped over your body. His fingers funneled you over more of the material, letting you have most of it as you quietly thanked him, tucking the throw under your neck where your fingers held it tight.

This was totally out of character coming from Steve knowing it would’ve hurt his ego a lot less if he’d just given you the blanket for yourself and spent the night with no covering. But for some reason you couldn’t place the gesture, not knowing why he would go out of his way for you or if this was some ulterior motive to hold against you in the future.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind me dead.” You said, trying to find a way to ease the awkwardness that you felt in your mind when he was just inches behind you. 

“I don’t,” he laughed, his breath grazing the back of your neck. “But I don’t want to haul your frozen body in the back of Eddie’s van.” He added with a playful glint.

There was your old Steve, back.

“C-can we just go to bed?” You stuttered, clearing your throat as you rested your head deeper into the pillow just wanting to dream off somewhere, anywhere but right there in reality. 

“Sure.” He agreed, shifting slightly before settling down and closing his eyes.

Silence enveloped you both, just the sounds of crickets from the outside and gentle crackling of the fire that burned slow in the air.

Part of you wished he maybe would have left you out there to fend for yourself or maybe just threw his blanket over you for good measure, but somehow, being in here with him, tucked away from the rest of the world made you feel even more awake than before. It was obvious, neither of you were going to be falling asleep so easily, the tension so thick you could barely breathe through it.

Steve at least tried to fall asleep, focusing on something to dream about but you were overwhelming his senses making his nerves go into overdrive. Sure he already reeked of all of your products that he had borrowed in the shower, but now it was a combination of their scents attached to your skin and hair that was filling his nostrils. It didn’t help that you unconsciously let out those soft noises, as your body shook, not fully taking in the warmth just yet.

Shifting slightly, your back unintentionally met his forearms that rested behind you. His eyes snapped open, feeling the coolness against his skin, shifting up slightly just enough to see your face.

“How are you still freezing?” Steve yelped, pulling his arm back from your frosty skin. 

You sighed heavily, repositioning your body to face him with a grunt, throwing all caution to the wind and not caring about how intimate this was. Both of you had already crossed so many lines that defined your hate fueled relationship… one more thing couldn’t hurt.

“I’m a-always cold.” You whispered, jaw wobbling through the shivers taking deep breaths to try to relax yourself. 

Steve raised his eyebrows and stared at you worriedly, “So you dying is just inevitable tonight, that’s what you’re saying?”

It came out a bit too sarcastic than he meant it to be since he was just genuinely curious to know if you were going to make it out alive tonight or if you needed to get into Eddie’s van and crank up the heater. 

You rolled your eyes, whispering in frustration.

“I can’t help it alright! Had I been in my tent, I’d be fine!”

Steve brushed your irritation off, instead moving his arms under the blanket, hovering his hands over your waist.

“Well you’re not, so I’m gonna swallow my pride and do something about it alright?” He said slowly letting his hands slide over your cold skin, watching as your face twisted with confusion. 

“What are you… oh god.” You groaned realizing exactly where this was going – a mirror to earlier in the lake, but this time you weren’t so disgusted. 

He was practically a human furnace, pulling you closer into him barely leaving inches while the warmth from his body cascaded onto yours. You tried not to tense or move abruptly, aware that his bad hand was weakly grasping your back and the last thing you wanted was to make it worse.

Instead you froze, breathing stopped for a second as you searched his face trying to see how he was feeling about this whole thing. He didn’t look displeased or annoyed that he was doing this for you, instead he was calm, cool, and collected as if he wasn’t holding the girl who tried to stab him a few hours ago.

“Do you have a better idea?” Steve suggested, looking down at you awaiting to see your next moves: either telling him to fuck off or staying silent for the rest of the night.

To his surprise, you eased into his hold, hooking your own arms under his and closing the rest of the space between you. Your chest was pressed up against his, one of your legs fastened over his hip, while the other knocked against his thigh. It was a definite contrast to the hours earlier where he practically lugged you through the lake, if only you knew things would be so different now.

“We are not to speak about this after tonight. Not even a peep.” You warned, squirming impossibly closer to him before shooting him a  serious look.

He nodded, eyes shutting tightly like he was trying to dream it away.

“I’m erasing this from my memory as we speak.”

“Goodnight.” You whispered, closing your eyes, hoping that would be the end of it.

“Night.” He muttered back.

Third times a charm… or maybe not.

In this position you could feel everything and there was no way to escape it.

His warm breath fanning over your face, his chest rising and falling against yours, the soft thumpthump of his heart echoing beneath your ear, and the hair on his arms delicately brushing against your exposed skin — everything was him wrapped up in your arms. Literally.

Steve could feel it, the way you tried to control your breathing by taking a breath in when he breathed out. But you were trying too hard to time it perfectly, overthinking and making sure he didn’t notice when it’s all he could really do, your back heaving against his hands was all it took for him to speak up.

“Relax,” Steve murmured gingerly digging his fingertips into your skin with his eyes still closed

“H-huh?” You opened your eyes watching his serene features that showed he wasn’t as edgy as you.

“I can feel you…” He started, voice low and silky as he spoke, “you’re nervous.”

You shook your head as if he could see you, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I…I’m not nervous, it’s just—this is different, we don’t do this.” You explained only partially truthfully considering you were more than just nervous.

“It’s just for tonight.” He said trying to iron out your worries the best that he could.

“No, I know, it’s just that—”

“I can feel your eyes on me, you know?”

Steve chuckled, peeking one of his eyes open, catching you in the act of trying to pinch them closed before he noticed.

You crumbled, letting out a weak laugh as you just opened them, finding him doing the same. The two of you staring at each other, the only sliver of light from the small beam in the corner of the tent, accompanied with the moonlight seeping weakly past the tarp.

Steve lifted his head just a bit, gesturing back to his bag just a few feet away from where you both were in the middle of the area. 

“Do you just want to take the blanket? I have a hoodie I can use in my—” His arms ever so slightly loosed and you stopped him.

Your fingertips squeezed tenderly into back, your leg pushing down on his hip to stop him from moving any further.

“No, its fine, this is fine. I don’t mind sharing.”

“You sure?” He laughed quietly, resting his head back down on the pillow.

“Cause you don’t have to pretend you want to share? We hate each other so I’m very familiar with our dislike when we’re forced to be around one another.” He reminded you, his tone light hearted not exuding any malice this time around.

You swallowed, nodding your head reassuringly as you let up your tense hold on him.

“I know…I-I still hate you, but I can deal with this for one night.”

“And you’re okay with this? Us… cuddling?” He asked, just wanting to be extra sure because cuddling didn’t have to be a part of it if you didn’t want it. 

“Positive.” You hummed, giving him one last look before you fluttered your eyes closed.

“Okay… good, good.” He hushed, nodding more so to himself content that you seemed to relax a bit more.

He should’ve closed eyes and went off to sleep, but now it seemed like all he wanted to do was watch you. Make sure that you were comfortable enough in his arms and warm enough to brave the night until morning and then you’d never have to be this close to him again.

He never took his eyes off your face, taking all of you in at once — long lashes kissing the skin under your eyes, cheek cozily pressed into the fluff of the pillow, lips relaxing in a straight smile and under his touch your breathing was stable, synchronized with his. He couldn’t believe he was holding you right now, getting the chance to see you like this — it was his biggest privilege.

You could feel his eyes, he obviously sucked at taking his own advice and he was clearly proving your point that he was a hypocrite… but you already knew that. 

You knew a lot of things about Steve, mostly all of the bad and annoying parts about him, but you also knew the good parts. The ones you blocked off and stored way back in your head because you never wanted to associate them with him. 

The fact that he wasn’t all that bad under those preppy button ups and head of hair.

He loved your friends, just as much as you did, treated them with kindness and savored every moment he spent with them. He knew how to take care of six rascals all by himself while also being the one they ran to when it came to all their teenage problems. He never showed up empty handed to any hangouts, always doing his best to bring anything whether it was a plain bag of chips or the camping equipment he had hidden in his garage.

Steve knew how to push your buttons, and perhaps that was the very thing that frustrated you the most — the realization that he had an undeniable effect on you. And at the same time, it was the very thing you were terrified of knowing — that if things would have been different, maybe the irritation you both had felt for each other could have just been affection from the get go.

The thick and imposing walls of animosity you’d built up for each other, was just a defensive mechanism. A weak hollow barrier that tried to disguise what you really felt, something so strong that only now broke through the bounds and unleashed a flood of emotions.

What was one more line crossed, when you both already jumped bridges?

“Steve?” You called out to him, hoping he wasn’t pretending to be asleep.

“Yeah?” His reply came swiftly, and his eyes flickered to watch your lips form the next set of words.

“You still hate me right?” You suspected, running your tongue over the bottom of your lip as you waited.

He nodded his head obviously though you couldn’t see him.

“Y-yeah. Why?” He furrowed his brows puzzled by the sudden question.

“What do you hate about me?” You pressed on.

A deep breath fanned across your face, followed by the tsking of his tongue, “I don’t think we should—”

“Tell me, Steve… please?” Your hands pressed firmly against his back, a silent plea echoing through the touch, not because you wanted to hear the words coming from him, but because you needed them.

He swallowed thickly, watching as you waited with your brows raised up yet eyes still closed. He didn’t understand why you wanted this from him all of the sudden. Why now when all his mind could do was fill up with the parts of you that he wanted to forget? The parts of you he silently spent hyperfixating on because you thought more about the people around you rather than yourself and he wished he could be half the person you were.

He liked to joke that you were his competition, his rival of sorts, but in actuality, he could never measure up to your level of compassion and he was more than fine with that. Settling for watching on the sidelines with a convincing snarkiness on his face, while on the inside his bones weakened and his brain went haywire wondering how you could ever exist in the same lifetime as him.

There was nothing he truly hated about you, he didn’t think there ever could be.

Mindlessly his fingers moved along your back, rubbing small circles and sweeping across your soft skin before he cleared his throat from the roughness and finally spoke into the millimeters between you.

“I umm, I hate the way you never forget about something I did.” He started, mind wandering to the afternoon where you reminded him of such instances with Dustin. 

“Hmmm.” You hummed, nodding your head along and relaxing your features now that he was working with you.

“I hate the way you always remind me to slow down when I’m driving around with the kids.” He admitted, guiltily confessing to his occasional speeding when they were running late and so was he.

You grunted, snickering weakly, “I need them all in one piece.” 

He agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips, acknowledging your concern.

His fingers stalled against your back, taking a sharp breath in, letting the words rest on the tip of his tongue whilst he gave himself a moment. A moment to take you in, to see you as such, to give himself a little longer with the mystery hanging in the air wondering if you could feel what he felt and understand what he was about to say.

“And I hate the way you look at everyone except me.” He said it so quietly that if you weren’t listening close enough you would have missed it.

But how could you ever let something like that float away so easily?

You flickered your eyes open, looking up at him past your lashes, staring into his orbs for all he was worth. Like he was the only thing to ever exist before your eyes and all you wanted to do was memorize him. 

“Like what?” You whispered, never breaking eye contact.

“Like this…” He proclaimed, pulling his injured hand away from your back and bringing it forward to cradle your face ever so gently.

His thumb traced your cheek, your breath catching in your throat, letting him gaze at you in a way he never had before. It was concerning how quickly you established that from this moment on, Steve was the only person who would ever have the privilege of seeing like this. Stripped down in the confines of a stupid tent, that somehow felt like its own little oasis away from the rest of the scary world right outside.

It was just you and him and your own world.

“You look at everyone with these eyes, so eager and happy.” He said, trailing down to the corner of your lips, brushing his thumb across delicate skin.

“You smile at them like they’re everything to you.” he said, nearly letting his hand slip away as if he was unworthy of such a feeling.

But before he could, you brought your hands up, wrapping gently around his wrists to keep him there like your life depended on it. Wanting nothing more than to show him that he could — he was willing and able, and had all the permission from you to stay here, as long as you could get him to.

“I hate that you don’t look at me like that.” He swallowed, shaking his head more so himself, because all he ever wanted was this and for so long he pushed it away.

“I am right now.” You finally spoke, almost breathlessly, trying to reassure his anxieties about the past, the same ones you were feeling. 

“Hate that it took this long.” He confessed with a weak laugh.

You smiled half apologetically. “Me too.”

It was all the confirmation you both needed.

No more lines.

No more bridges burnt.

Nothing keeping you both from the truth.

He had bit the bullet and you had jumped into the deep end and there was no going back from here. Time wasn’t stopping for either of you despite the intensity of the moment. There was clearly a beginning, you and him having a rough one, but that didn’t mean that your ending had to be so treacherous. 

The gentle gesture of him pushing the strands of hair that fell over your face, sent shivers down your spine, a sort of electric touch that should have had you running away but all you felt was the need for more. He didn’t miss the way your eyes shot down to his lips, staring at them wondering his next moves before you met his again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay.” He whispered the words ever so quietly, leaving them to linger in the space as a delicate invitation hoping it was one you’d accept. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling his face inch closer to yours.

The first touch of his lips upon yours felt like sparks flying, holy ground beneath you both as you took your time, exploring everything in between — what you imagined it would be like and the unexpected that had you both going down the twists and turns just trying to familiarize yourself with each other.  

His lips moved against yours unhurried, gentle but deliberate, not daring to miss even an inch of you. You felt as if he was taking your breath away, leaving you to succumb to a sort of poise that usually never came this easily. With every press and swipe across your lips, you were jumping and falling into somewhere you never wanted to leave. 

You nearly wanted to cry when he pulled away, leaving you only to catch your breath, his chest moving up and down deeply, while you were ready to go again and again and–

“W-was that okay?” He asked, fighting the urge to kiss you again and make you go dizzy. 

You smiled like an idiot, lips blushing with a pink as bright as your cheeks.

“Perfect. Can we do it again.”

“Yeah.” He beamed, moving to hover up on his elbows with his face above yours, giving you the access to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you. 

The second kiss was filled with hunger, the both of you trying to make up for the lost time you had spent at each other's throats when you could've been glued to each other's mouths. But you were positive you would both be able to make up for it eventually, and tonight felt like it was going to be the first of many. 

His teeth barely grazed over your bottom lip, prompting a moan to rip through your throat before you pulled away breathlessly. 

“I—I want you.” You spoke, voice full teetering between desperation and confidence. 

Steve wasn’t expecting it at all despite the circumstances that just took place with the kiss. He’d be fine if all you wanted to do was spend the rest of the night making out like depraved teenagers or if you wanted to cuddle until you fell asleep. 

He swallowed, looking into your eyes searching for any hesitancy on your features but you were positive that there wasn’t anything you wanted more than Steve.

“Are you sure?” He implored, desperately wanting to hear the words fall from your lips. 

“With everything inside of me.” You nodded with a smile bringing your lips back to his once more, not being able to help yourself. 

You could feel his grin against yours, a self indulgent one that still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was kissing you with every fiber of his being hoping that with each press and slide it would compensate for how much of an asshole he’d been to you. 

He moved his lips, creating a trail of kisses over your jaw and down your neck, gently sucking the skin to pepper you in love bites. 

“P-please, Steve,” You moaned, moving your head to give him more access to the sweet spot on your neck, “Need more.” 

He licked over the hickey, pressing a quick kiss to the developing bruise before he unwrapped your arms from his neck, placing them on your sides. Nudging your shoulder a bit, you laid fully on your back while he moved onto his knees, staring at you with a look so promising and true.  

“You don’t have to beg, at least not for tonight. I swear.”

His fingers smoothed over your sides feeling the warmth coming to you quicker now. 

“I want you…so so bad.” You pouted, reaching for his hands to intertwine in yours. 

“You have me.”

He brought yours up, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand before he let go and hovered above the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I?”

You nodded, lifting your hips slightly as he glided them off your legs, stripping away one layer of clothing yet revealing another — a black, lacy, number that definitely wasn’t planned for tonight, but he wasn’t complaining, in fact he found it a little humorous taking into the account the occasion. 

“You packed a thong for camping?”

Steve snorted lightly, kissing the inside of your thigh as you blushed, tucking your cheek into your shoulder.

“I…I was rushing and packed it accidentally.” You told him, silently thanking the universe and your horrible planning that somehow got this perfectly. 

“Lucky me.” He rasped, toying with the lace around your hip bone, peppering kisses across your thighs, not making any move to strip you free of them yet as he wanted to worship all of you first. 

You sat up slightly, running your hand over his covered shoulder blade.

“C-could you take your shirt off?”

 “Course I can.” He nodded quickly, sitting up just enough to work his arms through the shirt.

The garment was quickly pulled off his body, thrown off the side wherever he had flung your shorts. 

“I can take mine off, too—” You started, moving up a bit more as you pulled at the bottom of your cami but before you could get any farther, he stopped you, squeezing your wrist gently.

“Only if you want to, s’okay if you don’t.” He assured you, wanting to know this was all about you being comfortable.

You smiled warmly and shook your head at his politeness, still trying to take all of him in, not just for the body before you, but for how attentive he had been towards you. 

“No, I do… I just—just wanted to feel more of you, that’s why I asked.” You explained with a light laugh. 

“You’re cute.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs as you pulled the material over your head discarding it.

Absentmindedly your arms wrapped around yourself, bashfully trying to hide away as if that would make Steve forget that you were topless in front of him. Finally he got to see what the slivers of skin that was hidden away beneath clothing or in this case, made an appearance just hours ago.

“Don’t hide. You’re so beautiful.” Steve spoke softly, reassuring you of whatever nervousness you were feeling, slowly lowering your arms down letting him see you completely. 

You could see and hear it in the way his breath hitched in his throat, eyes stuck on your chest before a smirk played on his features and he finally trailed them back up to your eyes. 

“So you’re always excited to see me, then?” He teased, reaching up to run his hands along your ribcage, feeling your laughter rumble beneath his skin.

“Shut up.” You chided, pushing playfully at his shoulder. 

“You got just the thing for me to do just that.” He tilted his head down and you nodded, giving him the green light to do what he pleased.

His lips wrapped around your sensitive skin, peak hardening in this mouth while the other was met with the flick and roll of his fingers. You were sure by the end of it, your chest would be littered with love bites of all shapes and sizes. Steve made the extra effort to glide across your chest, showing both breasts the attention they so rightfully deserved with his mark left behind. 

“Mmm, S-steve.” You moaned, arching up into him and nails grazing at the nape of his neck. 

“Gotta make up for lost time.” He mumbled against your, sucking another hickey but this time right above your sternum, completing the other half to make a lopsided heart that you’d see in the morning. 

“I want more.” You begged, finally getting the courage to pull him away, eyes peering down at him. 

He smacked his lips, nodding as he leaned up and pecked your lips, murmuring against them.

“I got you, princess.”

His kisses trailed down your body, taking his sweet time leaving your skin with a plethora of hickies, some small and subtle, and others that would settle darker by morning. Something about it, the possessiveness of it all added to the longing, knowing he was marking you as his — and he was the only person you wanted to belong to right now… forever even. 

Placing a final kiss above the waistband of your intimates, he looked up at you, toying with the fabric. 

“Let me get these off you, yeah?”

You hummed, letting your feet sit flat on the comforter, slightly lifting your hips up to help him. His fingers slipped under the lace, tugging them away from your core and off your legs, putting them off to the side. 

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, gently pulling your knees wider apart enough for him to slot himself between them and lay on his stomach. 

His eyes were fixated on your core, taking you in with such hunger but at the same time awe, as if he was admiring the most beautiful work of art just before he would dig his claws into it. No ones had ever looked at you like that, taking their time and drinking you in, it almost made you want to shoo him away with all the attention he was giving you. 

“Steveeee.” You whined, laughing behind your hands that covered your face. 

“Why’re you hiding?” He puffed out a short laugh, splaying his hands over your stomach rubbing gently. 

You pulled fingers apart, staring at him timidly. “I—I don’t know, I just never thought that we’d… you know.”

Stop pretending like we hated each other and confessed our feeling then deciding to fuck in a dingy tent in the middle of nowhere? Yeah he totally knew what you meant. 

“I know what you mean,” He placed a reassuring kiss on the inside of your knee.

“We can stop whenever you want okay? No questions asked, you say the word and I’ll stop and we’ll put our clothes back on and—”

“I don’t want to stop. Promise, just a little nervous.” You assured him, sitting up slightly to bring your hand to his cheek, thumbing the freckles peppering his skin. 

“Don’t be, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I promise.” He smiled, leaning into your touch and kissing the pulse point on your wrist. 

Steve nodded, silently telling you to lie back and let him fulfill his promise which you were sure he was going to over deliver on. And god were you right. 

His tongue swiped between your folds, shuddering beneath him you couldn’t help pinch your eyes closed trying to bottle up the feeling and keep it in your memory forever. 

“F-fuck,” You moaned, relished in the feeling of each pass and kiss, “Feels so good, Steve.”

His thumb swiped over your clit, breath fanning over your skin as he watched your back arch with a smirk on his face.

“Told you so, princess.”

He dove back in, tongue flicking over your sensitive button while he worked two fingers into you slowly. The stretch of his thick digits and the mixture of his warm tongue sent your hands flying, in search of something to grab and immediately you went for Steve’s hand. 

Somehow through the pleasure you didn’t feel the tape on his hand, that is until you squeezed and felt the layer blocking the contact of skin on his. The tape slightly crumpled in your hold causing your eyes to fly open, staring down at him. 

“S-shit, I’m so sorry!” You whispered, quickly letting go of his hand nearly backing away from Steve thinking that you hurt him.

His fingers abruptly left your core, quickly slinging his arm over your hips stopping you from moving away from him. The bad hand immediately reached out for yours, intertwining your fingers together despite your uncertainty that didn’t want to immediately hook between his. 

“S’okay, I’m okay, promise.” He assured you, kissing your mound before shooting you a wink as he squeezed yours.

“You can grab my hand, squeeze as tight as you want. The nurse who wrapped it up did a hell of a job, thing isn’t gonna hurt me.”

It made you giggle, kissing his knuckles, murmuring against them,  “Hmm, still, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, lips brushing against your center as he got back to work.

“Shhh it’s okay.”

Steve was always more of a giver, something he usually bragged about and you thought was absolute bullshit, but now you understood seeing as though he was definitely giving you something to come back for, in more ways than one. 

His tongue dipped lower, dragged up from your aching hole to your sensitive clit.

“You like that?” his voice vibrated across your sensitive skin, sending your body into squirms. 

“Yes…p-please, right there,” You moaned, gripping his hand tightly as he repeated the action. “Just like that, baby.”

“Say it again.” He demanded though it more so came out as a desperate plea. 

“Baby?” 

He let out a groan, nipping at the inside of your thigh, “I love hearing it from you…c’mon, let me get you there, baby.”

It was the end of the beginning from then on out with one goal in his head. Feasting on you like you were his last meal trying to savor your sweetness and all at once engrain the image of your blissful face in his mind and those addicting moans that dared to get louder with every second that passed. 

“I’m so close.” You whispered, trying to keep your voice down,  “I—I, Steve, baby, please.” 

Your thighs began shaking around his head, stomach heaving in deeper and twisting tightly, teeth digging into your lip trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure that wanted to escape, and your hand clutching onto his for dear life – the only thing grounding you while his mouth sent you into ecstasy. 

“Cum for me.” He vibrated against you, lips wrapped around your bud as he sucked and watched you explode. 

“Baby, f-fuck.” You gasped, looking down to meet his eyes before it was too much for you to handle. 

Euphoria washed over you, similarly to the colors of the sunset. Bright oranges and pinks flashed across your vision, painting your skin with the feverish warmth before it fizzled out into darkness, specks of white making their appearance as your body buzzed.

Steve didn’t pull away until you stopped moving your hips into and away from him, trying to chase and escape the pleasure all at once until you came down. Even then he didn’t dare to leave you just yet, taking his time to wait until you came down from your high. He pressed gentle kisses over your inner thighs, making his way up to your midsection, resting his chin there, your chest moving beneath him as you caught your breath. 

“Hey pretty.” He murmured, your eyes peeking open to see him — lips and chin coated with a sheen of you in the best way possible. 

You swallowed, giving his hand three squeezes and you cleared your throat from the hoarseness, “H-hi Stevie.”

Stevie. It was a stupid nickname you used against him all the time because he hated it, but right now it seemed to have the same effect on him as you calling him baby just a little while ago. 

Using his elbows as leverage, he scooted up to you chuckling as you pulled him down bringing his lips to yours as you tasted your essences on him. Your legs hiked up around his hips, bringing his clothed crotch down to your core, just a piece of fabric separating you both, but even then the tent in his pants wasn’t hard to pick up on. 

“Lay down for me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, poorly attempting to roll him on his back despite his sheer strength. 

He pulled away only slightly, furrowing his brows at you. “Baby, baby, we don’t have to if you—”

“I want to, so bad,” You pressed your hips up into him, inducing a moan to rip from his mouth, though still he didn’t roll over just yet. 

You frowned, loosening your legs, hoping you didn’t cross the line,  “Do you not want to?”

Quickly he shook his head, moving to hold your face in his hands. “I do, sweetheart, you don’t know how badly I want to have you. But I kinda feel horrible here,” He grimaced, face twisting with embarrassment. 

“W-was hoping to have our first time together in a bed, preferably mine but yours could work too, but–”

“Wait!” You cut him off with surprise, lips curling up.

“You thought about this?” You suspected with a grin, teasing him with a poke on the cheek.

He tried to play it off with an unconvincing scoff that didn’t cover the croak in his voice, “M-maybe?” 

You beamed, running your thumb along his bottom lip, batting your eyes up at him. “Well if you’re okay with it, we can totally use your bed the next time, and the next, and then the—”

“Of course.” He agreed quickly, making you laugh as you pushed his chest away

“Lay down for me, baby.”

He did as you said, taking your spot as you sat up on your knees pulling at the waistband of his sweats, working them off his ankles. His cock sprung up, the tip blushing with a bright read, aching and throbbing to be inside of you. 

“Commando? And you want to call me naughty?” You teased, licking the palm of your hand and wrapping it around his length, pumping slowly. 

He let out a shaky laugh, cursing at himself, “Kinda was regretting it earlier.” 

“Why’s that?” You began shifting to lay flat on your stomach. 

“Was worried you’d notice.” He mumbled. 

His hands reach out to run up and down your back, soothing your skin desperately wanting to touch you despite the closeness already. 

“Notice what?” You hummed gazing up at him. 

“How hard I got when y-you wrapped me up.” He admitted, shuddering when you licked a stripe from the base to his glistening tip. 

“Me serving you do it for you?” You half-joked, pepping kisses back down. 

“Fuck no, that wasn’t it…” He shook his head, sitting up slightly to watch you. 

“You just—f-fuck, you knew what you were doing and you took control and you…you fucking called me big boy and t-the way you bit the tape off.”

Clearly you wounded him up so much, something you never thought was capable, but alas the hate you both supposedly shared for each other had no bounds when it came to this sort of tension. 

“Make a mess for me big boy, and I’ll clean it up, yeah?” You winked, finally giving him what he wanted, wrapping your mouth around him. 

“S-shit, baby.” He hissed moving your hair towards one side to see you clearly. 

“Making me feel so good, princess.” His hips resisted the want to thrust up into your mouth, controlling himself knowing that good things always took time and you were already making him feel great. 

“So big.” You murmured, messily kissing the tip of his cock, giggling at the way his hips stuttered up knocking closer to your lips. 

“Just right for you though right? Only yours baby.” He groaned, throwing his head back onto the pillows. 

“Mhmm,” you hummed, wrapping your lips around the tip, sending vibrations up his sensitive length.

“Pretty too.” You whispered, pulling away teasingly. 

He let out a hoarse laugh, shaking his head ridiculously. “Can’t be when I’ve got the prettiest sight right here.”

The compliment went straight to your core, the need to make him feel good was the motivation in your movements. Your wrist moved over the part that you couldn’t quite fit in your mouth. 

“That's it baby, taking me so well,” He praised lowly trying to keep his voice quiet enough for just you to hear. 

His fingers threaded through the roots of your hair, neither pulling or pushing, just holding you there and letting you go at your own pace. 

“Shit, babe, y’gotta stop.” He hissed, tugging you off his length as you moaned, pouting up at him.

“Want to taste you…please Stevie?” You begged, mouth trailing down to his heavy sack, taking one of them in your mouth, before popping off only to mumble against them, “Let me taste you, please baby.” 

How was he going to deny you, then?

“F-fucking shit, yeah, okay doll, I’ll give it to you.” He moaned, nodding more so at himself, trying to starve off the orgasm as long as he could knowing he was going to burst any second now. 

You grinned, releasing his balls with a pop, quickly taking him into your mouth again. 

“I’m c-cumming, fuck—” 

He let the rest die in his throat, knowing that if he went any longer he’d wake up your friends and cause an even bigger mess that he nor you wanted to clean up right now. 

“How was that?” You grinned, swiping your thumbs over the inner corners of your mouth, sucking off the remnants of him. 

The act alone made his cock twitch, somehow springing back up ready for you. 

“C’mere, you minx.” He whispered with a smirk, threading his hands towards the back of your head to gently tug you up to his face. 

“Hmmm, Steve.” You giggled, letting it get cut short with his lips pressing deeply onto yours.

“You’re making it very hard for me to hate you.” He accused, pulling away from you with a playful smirk. 

“You or your dick?” You wiggled your brows, eyes lowering between the both of you where his hardness rested against his thigh. 

“I’m kidding… about the me hating you thing, not you making me hard.” He clarified, holding your chin between his forefingers. 

It was clear that the both of you couldn’t really hate each other. 

“You wanna be on top? I think it’ll be easier for you to control it at your pace.” He suggested, giving your hips a squeeze before letting his hands roam across your bottom. 

“Okay.” You whispered, forehead resting against his as he snuck a hand between you both, pumping his length one, two, three times before slowly lowering yourself on him. 

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes pinched closed, a gasp leaving your mouth feeling his breach your walls. 

“S’okay, baby, take your time.” He murmured, kissing the tip of your noses while his hands rubbed comforting circles over your hip. 

“Y-you’re so deep already.” You whined, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the stretch. 

His bottom lip jutted out, pouting at you with his eyes so soft, though his mouth spoke a tune so condescending and downright filthy.

“Aww baby, I know, but you’re taking it so well right?” He went a step further, resting his palm over your cheek, prompting you to look him in the eyes as you nodded quickly, wanting nothing more than to feel all of him.

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling it away from your cheek, “Touch me, please? I-I just need a little—” 

He understood immediately, dropping the cocky facade for just a moment to make you feel the most comfortable knowing the first time was always the most intense. 

“Shhh, I got you, I’m right here.” He swiped his tongue over two digits, working them between your bodies until he found your clit, rubbing gentle circles over the bud, just enough to help distract you from the initial stretch. 

“O-oh, fuck, Steve.” You keened, focusing on the pleasure and stretch jumbled all in one. 

“That’s a good girl.” He praised lowly. 

You tightened around his girth, eyes shutting blissfully at the overwhelming feeling and the praise that spilled past his lips. He noticed it right away, chuckling more so at himself because all of the times he had called you pet names for fun, perhaps you liked it more than you let on. 

“You like being called a good girl?” He challenged, his free hand tightening around your hips to stop you from rocking against him. 

You whined through a nod, opening your eyes and pleading for him to let you keep up the movements. 

“Words.” He urged, still not giving into you until he heard what he needed to hear. 

You swallowed thickly, lips parting as you whispered softly. “Y–yeah, like when you call me that.” 

He smirked, leaning up just enough to peck your lips, mumbling against them as his arm loosened from your hips and he settled comfortably on his back. Slowly but surely your hips proceeded where they left off, moving experimentally taking the time to adjust to his sheer size. 

“Atta girl, gotta tell me what you like so I can make you feel good baby.” 

“L-like it when you talk to me.” 

“You do?’ 

You hummed quickly, nodding your head, “So much.” 

Growing needier you lifted your hips up slightly before fucking yourself back down onto him. Your lips parted with a pleasurable moan while he growled, throwing his head back against the pillows. 

“Oh, there you go sweet girl. Fuck, already taking me so good.” He said, digging his fingertips into your hip bone. 

“F-full, m’so full of you.” You sighed, slowly repeating your movements trying to make it last as long as you could. 

“But you love it right?” He murmured, words soothing and arousing at the same time. 

You nodded admittingly, “Please don’t stop…S-steve please,” 

The shake of your thighs and the uneven grinding told him all he needed to know, and he was more than happy to let you sit back and give you your second fix of the night. 

He pressed himself off his back, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you close. Your limbs enveloping his neck while you rested your forehead against his, breathy moans leaving your lips as the new position pushed him deeper within you if that was even possible. 

Steve’s lips brushed yours, an oath tumbling past them, “I won’t baby, promise. Just wanna make you feel good okay? Be a good girl.” 

It was all you needed to hear before the waves of pleasure came crashing down with no breaks. You were practically putty in his hands, your hips moving against him the way he wanted you to. He set the pace and found the rhythm that had you nearly slumping against him. 

“So fucking tight, your pussy’s squeezing me baby,” He muttered, lifting your hips higher as his own thrusted deeper from below.

“Making me feel so good, princess. Does it feel good for you too? Just what you need right?” 

If you weren’t so blissed out with pleasure, perhaps you would have the ability to actually give him the words he wanted to hear, but you felt an entire universe away, so caught up in Steve and everything he was making you feel. His words were only taking you higher, adding to pleasure and bringing you closer to the end. 

You managed to take a sharp breath in, jaw shaking as your teary eyes blinked at him, “J-just need you now…only want you.” 

He moaned darkly, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tried to starve off his own orgasm that was teetering the edge. The only thing keeping him from letting go was making sure that you got there first, just so he could watch you unravel and hear the sweet sounds that could never be erased from his memory. 

“C’mere, sweetheart,” 

His thrusts slowed just enough for one of his hands to snake up towards the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss before guiding your head into the juncture of his neck. 

“It’ll go deeper this way,” He murmured, placing a quick peck to your cheek before continuing the onslaught of ecstasy. 

“Oh God…Steve….” You whimpered, nails digging into his skin. 

“You’re mine now.” He said through gritted teeth, fingertips practically bruising your back, “no one’s gonna get you like this except me, got that?” 

All you could do was nod against him, humming out an agreement as you tried to keep your voice down, finally aware that your friends would be able to hear you both if you didn’t try to get a semblance of control. 

“Fuck, shit babe, so perfect, just taking all of me inside you huh? You’re the only one who ever made me feel this— shit, so good.” 

He was just making it harder for you to keep quiet at that point. 

“O–only want you…I–I only want you like this.” You murmured, pulling your face away from his neck just enough for his eyes to catch yours. 

Steve couldn’t help himself, thrusting up into you with a slow yet deep vigor, bringing his lips to yours and stealing your breath away. He never quite imagined that this was the way you both would be confessing your feelings and begging to finally be each others’ but he wasn’t complaining — he just wanted to seal the deal and show you how real it was to him. 

“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and do it for me…just me.” He mumbled against you, feeling the tightening around his shaft, the convulsing of your walls signaling your release. 

“F-fuck! Oh my god, Steve.” 

Your body shook, eyes shutting tightly as your hips rutted against his stilled ones letting you ride out your orgasm as he held your tight and shushed your moans soothingly. 

You slowly opened your eyes, staring at him dazingly, “Wanna feel you cum, give it to me, please.” 

He nodded, letting your face untuck itself from his neck and instead grabbing his cheeks to keep his eyes on yours. Eyes silently begging for his release while your lips parted with shallow moans still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm followed by a small ripple of pleasure that came again. 

His thrusts became frantic, nose flaring with a deep breath taken, pushing his hips as far as they could go forcing you to collapse against him as he filled you.

“That’s it, baby…hmm, so deep.” You smiled lazily into his chest, nails raking down gently across his shoulders and down his arms as he came down. 

His heartbeat rang through your ears along with the uneven breathing the both of you were sharing, letting the 

“Well,” He huffed, staring down at you, smoothing your tousled hair down, “That’s one way to warm up.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his cheek with a soft pat, “Hypothermia wasn’t gonna kill me. You almost did.” 

“Did I really fuck you that good?” He smirked smugly. 

“Don’t make me start hating you, again.” You threatened with a yawn, eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into him. 

“Kidding babe,” He said, kissing the top of your head before patting the small of your back, “Let me get some clothes on you.” 

He pulled out of you, quietly apologizing for the emptiness before cleaning you and himself up. His t-shirt covered your body and he managed to slip your underwear back over your legs. Steve settled for his sweatpants, no shirt, just letting the blanket and your body heat keep him warm throughout the night. 

“We’ll talk about this more…in the morning? O–or when we get back home?” You proposed sleepily, snuggling deeper into his body, weakly throwing one of your legs over his hips. 

His big hands came down under the blanket, caressing your skin with soft passes as he hummed pulling you closer, “Yeah baby, we’ll talk about it, then.” 

There you and Steve Harrington were, spending your first night together but not as mortal enemies — you guys had practically fucked the hatred out of each other, but really... it never existed in the first place. 

BONUS SCENE: 

You did a one over at the trunk of the van, mentally ticking off every item and looking back at the campsite to make sure you all didn’t leave anything behind. Steve was busy checking the tires making sure they all had enough air for the drive back that way there would be no issues. You shut the trunk closed, making your way over to the passenger door that was kicked open with Eddie smoking a cigarette. 

“You’re in my seat.” You cross your arms over your chest, foot tapping against the asphalt as Eddie stared at you confused.  

“You’re mistaken…this is my seat.” He retorted with a chuckle, gesturing to himself before blowing out a puff of smoke into the air.

“Not anymore.” 

“It’s literally my van.” 

You rolled your eyes, lamely gesturing back to the site where the tents were once set up, “And you literally kicked me out of my tent to almost freeze to death, therefore you owe me. Now get out of my seat.” 

“I’m not moving.” He said, standing his ground. 

“Move.” You commanded, reaching to tug him by the arm though he didn’t budge. 

“Nope.” 

“Fine,” You huffed, dropping his arm before calling out, “Steve!” 

He came around the front of the van, dusting his hands off and jutting his chin towards the both of you.

“What’s going on?”

You pouted deeply, eyes sulking towards your friend who tsked and rolled his eyes at your feigned innocence. “Eddie won’t let me sit in the passenger seat.” 

“My van, my rules.” Eddie smirked, tapping the hood of the car. 

Steve stared at you both, shaking his head in amusement before turning to his friend, “Dude, c’mon, just let her sit up front this once.” 

Eddie’s face twisted in betrayal, obviously Steve was already wrapped around your pinky and he just couldn’t believe he was this easy. “You’re shitting me right? I thought I was your right hand man Harrington?” 

You snorted, eyes glancing up at Steve with a blush coating your cheeks, “Oh trust me he doesn’t need a right hand anything when he has me—” 

Eddie faked a gag, finally relenting and stepping out of the seat. He stubbed out his cigarette on the gravel and waved his hands in surrender. 

“Take it for all I care! Just keep your goddamn hands to yourself, and I mean it Steve, both hands on the wheel!” He shouted, whipping the back door open and cramming himself between the rest of your friends who laughed at him for thinking that Steve was going to save his ass. 

“You must be proud of yourself, huh?” Steve chuckled, giving you a hand as you stepped up the siding and slid into the seat comfortably. 

“Very.” You responded, bending out an inch to peck his lips not caring that your friends saw the act.

Steve smiled against your lips, hands coming to rest over your waist, practically lurching himself across your body as you whispered quietly for only him to hear. 

“Now come on… you promised we would use your bed the next right, remember.” 

His eyes widened, cheeks turning red as he swallowed and finally pulled himself away from you, “Oh I remember.” He smiled, tapping your knee before he shut your door, “Buckle up, princess.”

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

a/n: so this is my very first enemies to lover fics...(at least i think it is????), this was actutally supposed to be very short and brief, almost a one shot/blurb kinda thing but it turned into a feature length fic...is anyone surprised hahaha. anyways, i hope you guys like this!!! i don't usually write smut because I feel like i suck at writing it and describing it but i hope i was able to do this fic justice -- let me know what you guys think and thank you so much for sticking around <;3

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

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[sempersirens]

a bird in your teeth, III

masterlist

summary: joel deals with the aftermath of a traumatic experience

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. reference to past SA, trauma, nightmares, general symptoms of PTSD. eventual smut

a/n: hello lovelies! slightly longer part ahead. i've decided to make the next part the final installment of this mini-series, i wanted to explore some more intimate aspects between joel and reader that didn't quite fit here. i hope you enjoy! <3

word count: 3.5k

The sweet chirping of birdsong felt like Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke on you as you stood on the side of the street, arms hugged tightly around yourself. You felt as though the birds were laughing down at you, cackling at your wretched state, sharing an inside joke at your expense. As dawn drew in, her rosy fingers pulled at the remnants of the night's sky. The beauty of the orange and pink hues was wasted on you. To you, it served as a reminder that even as a new day rolled in, the memories swarming your mind wouldn't fade quite as swiftly.

When Joel's truck came hurtling towards you, all notion of time had faded away. You couldn't tell if seconds, hours, or even days had passed since you had lowered your phone from your face. Fifty dawns and dusks could've gone by for all you cared.

The heat from your pumping heart manifested into a blush that crept up your cheeks, and the consequence of your damsel-in-distress phone call settled in your gut.

Joel was here. You had called him, and he had come.

"What happened?" His expression was stern, hair disheveled, and flannel shirt almost comically misbuttoned. You would've laughed if you could remember how.

He grazed your bloody lip with this thumb.

"Sweetheart, what happened?"

"This was a mistake..." You became aware of his hands now on your arms. "Please, don't touch me."

The words tumbling out of your mouth must've sounded as limp and pathetic as you felt. Joel's eyes softened into confusion, and then concern. You didn't have the energy to pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eye anymore. You feared his gaze would open every locked door inside of you and allow the mess to collapse onto him.

He said your name, softly, removing you from his grip and opening the passenger door.

"Let me take you home."

As you had done all night, you silently obliged. Joel guided you into the truck, his hand hovering over the crown of your head. He closed the door gently and made his way into the driver's seat, starting the ignition in silence. Was he angry? You couldn't work it out. His knuckles were wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel they had turned white.

"Joel, please don't be angry with me."

"I'm not angry. I'm taking you back to my place, gonna get you cleaned up, and then when you're ready..."

"Is Sarah okay?" You interrupted.

"Sound asleep. I gotta take her to school in a coupl'a hours, but I'll come straight back to you."

This wasn't right. You shook your head in soft defiance, staring at your lap where your hands sat, fingers interlocked. As you thought of all the trouble you had caused him, you noticed your thumbnails digging into your hands so sharply that you had drawn blood. You turned your palms shakily onto your bare thighs to hide the fresh droplets.

"Honey, where are your shoes?"

Joel's soft inquiry snapped you out of your trance; you hadn't even realized you'd left those fucking cowboy boots on the bedroom floor in your rush out of the front door.

"I left them... I-I didn't think to..." Your breathing became erratic again, chest heaving with each rise and fall feeling like a weight was crushing into your ribcage.

"Hey, hey hey. Breathe. You're with me. You're safe with me, you know that." He reached across your lap and squeezed your still interlocked hands, filling his lungs with air and then exhaling slowly through his mouth like he was a midwife guiding you through childbirth.

You copied his rhythmic breaths, focusing on the emerging purple colors now littering the sky. It was cruel for the sky above you to be so warm and inviting.

You wished for an English February; for thick layers of ice coating the ground with black ice hidden underneath. You wanted it to be the cold that had caused your muscles to freeze, or the harshness of a dry wind to be clawing down your throat. You wished you could blame the weather for the way your body was reacting.

Of all people, you didn't want Joel to see you as weak. You internally reprimanded yourself for pulling him out of his home, away from his daughter to come and save you. Your body and soul had never taken to relying on others easily. Who had you become? You were supposed to be strong. You moved across the world all by yourself, for god's sake.

"What's goin' on in that head of yours?"

"Everything."

The remainder of the journey was silent.

Joel pulled into his driveway, soon exiting the truck and jogging to your side to help you out.

"Easy, darlin'."

He carried your handbag on one arm and looped the other to support your waist. With his free hand, he unlocked the door and closed it quietly behind him.

"Sarah's not gonna be up for another couple hours, you go make yourself comfortable in my bedroom, I'll bring everything y'need."

You gave him a pathetic nod before traipsing up the stairs you had watched Sarah scurrying up only six hours ago. Despite your years of friendship with the Millers, you had never actually gone into Joel's bedroom. You had snuck a peek or two inside whenever the door was left ajar if you passed on your way to the bathroom, but had never set foot inside.

His bedsheets were haphazardly thrown back, half dangling onto the carpeted floor. The fan on his dresser was still humming, sending ripples through his pillowcases. You were reluctant to make yourself at home as he had instructed, so perched on the edge of his bed eyeing the posters dotted on his walls. His bedroom looked like it hadn't changed since his 20s, reminding you of how young he must've been when he started a new life to bring up Sarah in a home he could call his own.

Joel appeared at the door, shutting it softly behind him. He was balancing a steaming mug and a first aid kit in one hand, and some pillows from the sofa under his other arm. He set the mug down on the nightstand beside his bed. Tears swelled in the corner of your eyes at what you recognized as the Yorkshire Tea he kept stocked in the cupboard, especially for you.

"Want you to sit back and get real comfy, alright?"

"Okay."

You hesitantly lifted your legs to rest on the bed, shuffling backward towards the headboard. Joel set the first aid kit at the foot of the bed and leaned over to place the pillows behind your back.

"That okay?"

You nodded your head without looking directly at him.

Wordlessly, Joel walked around to the other side of the bed, setting himself down with a barely audible groan. He brought the first aid kit into his lap and started sifting through the contents.

"You mind if I take a look at your lip?"

"No. I mean - that's fine."

You parted your lips slightly, Joel's fingers lifting your chin up towards him.

"Washed m'hands, promise."

He pulled your bottom lip down to inspect the wound, cleaning the now-dried blood from your chin. The silence in his bedroom made his touch even more intense. You'd felt his hand on your waist, or accidentally brush past your bare skin now and then, but this... You had never been touched by anybody like this before. His eyebrows were furrowed tightly as he put all of his focus into handling you with care.

You had been with your fair share of guys before; boyfriends, one-night-stands, whatever. But the way you felt under Joel's gaze in this moment, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger, made you feel like nobody had ever truly touched you before. Like you were brand new. It made you want to sob. You had to start regulating your breathing again to prevent your lip from wobbling, shattering your impenetrable exterior.

"M'I hurtin' you?"

Finding courage hidden somewhere deep inside of you, you leveled your gaze with his. This close to his face, you could've sworn you saw his pupils dilate.

"No. It's fine, thank you."

"You're doin' so well, honey. Keep breathin' for me." He moved his thumb to stroke your jaw as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Joel."

"Don't say that. This ain't your fault."

"How can you say that? You don't even know what happened."

"Don't need to. But, I'd be grateful if you'd be so kind as t'fill me in."

You sucked a breath in and brought your knees up to your chest. The birds outside the window began mocking you with their song again.

"You get in a fight? W'that friend of yours who picked you up earlier?"

Oh god. He really had no clue.

"No, nothing like that."

"Somethin' while you were out? Sweetheart, someone had t'have busted your lip like that?"

"I said no."

"So what, you don't remember? You taken somethin'? You're scarin' me, darlin'."

He was pleading. It was dripping all over his face, this deep despair searching your features for the answers your voice couldn't quite give him.

"No, I do. I mean- I said it, I said no. To a guy. O-one second I was falling asleep and then... he was just there, Joel. He appeared out of nowhere. I thought he had gone home. And I was saying no but he was all over me. He was everywhere."

Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks, a dichotomy of relief and anguish flooding through your veins so intensely that any hope of maintaining a stoic facade had long washed away.

You didn't make a sound as you sobbed. Your entire body jerked with each breath, snot ungraciously dripping onto your upper lip. It didn't matter. Joel wrapped you into him without hesitation, your face nestled against his shoulder. He rocked you in his arms, back and forth, back and forth. Your sobs intensified into his t-shirt, eyes squeezed shut. You could feel the tears clinging onto the material, but all he did was hold you tighter.

"Oh, baby girl. It's okay, I got you. I got you now."

"I'm so sorry, Joel." You choked the words out.

"Don't you dare apologize. You let everythin' go. Give all that hurt t'me. I'll take it for you."

Joel pulled you into his lap, your legs collapsed underneath you. He placed a hand on either side of your face, holding you inches away from his own. He had never seen you like this. It shattered his damn heart. He had to keep blinking to fend off his own tears.

“You did the right thing, callin’ me.”

Every inch of him wanted to go back in time to you lingering in the doorway and ask you to stay the night. Hell, he would've gone back to that first time he saw you and taken you in his arms like a sailor returning home from years at sea. The only reason he'd even had the courage to turn up at your front door, mumbling something about burgers, was because Sarah had caught him peeking at you through the curtains for the first few days of you moving in. If you like her so much, why don't you ask her on a date? She had asked so innocently. But she was right; it was that simple. He fired up the grill before straightening himself up and jogging across the street. A Glenn Campbell record had been echoing through your house, something he found even more endearing when he was struck by that accent of yours.

He wanted to tell you that the reason none of his first dates made it to a second was because none of them were you. He was setting these poor women up to fail; how could they ever compete with you?

But right now, you were here. Safe in his arms. He was going to do everything in his power to bring that light back into your eyes.

An hour or so passed like that. You pressed against his chest, falling in and out of a dreamless sleep, Joel's fingers grazing soothing patterns on your arm.

The sound of Sarah's bedroom door closing jolted you awake.

"Ssh, it's okay. S'just Sarah getting ready t'head out. Gimme a minute to go say good mornin'."

You nodded in response, mustering a small smile.

You felt tiny alone in his bed, the absence of his body leaving you feeling hollow. You pulled the covers up to your chin and drew you knees up to your chest, dreading to think what Joel would tell Sarah. She called me in the middle of the damn night, what was I s'posed to do? Maybe she'll get the hint and leave. Imagined narratives swarmed your mind.

Why was it so hard for you to accept his help?

"Oh my god," you gasped, sitting up. "Daisy."

In your state, you had left her there all alone. Mark seemed like a nice enough guy, but didn't they all?

You reached for your handbag hanging off of Joel's door handle and searched for your phone.

14 missed calls. You tapped your foot against the floor anxiously as the dialing tone sounded.

"Moooornin' Ms. Cocktease. How's ya head?" She chirped, the relief that engulfed you allowed your body to slack back onto the bed.

"I am so glad to hear your voice." You breathed.

"That's romantic. You gonna tell me what had you scurrying off in such a hurry at 3am? Y'left your damn boots behind."

"I was... really worried about missing my 9am. It's with my thesis supervisor."

"Sweetheart, a love you but you gotta learn to relax once in a while. Let off some steam! Unclench your jaw, woman."

"I know, I know. I'll work on it."

"How'd you get home, anyway?"

"Oh, um. I called a cab."

"I feel like you're lyin', and I intend to find out what's goin' on. I swear to god if you're fuckin' that old man I'm not gonna know whether to be proud or-"

"Listen, babe, I'm glad you had a good night. Give me all the gritty details over coffee tomorrow?"

"Oh fine. Enjoy your meeting."

The line disconnected as Joel re-entered the room.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm gonna drop Sarah to school, but I'll be right back. Need me to pick you anythin' up from your place?"

"No, that's okay. I should get out of your hair-"

"I'll be right back."

He walked over and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

---

Joel couldn't concentrate for the entire drive back to his place. He had to pass the street he had picked you up from hours prior to get to and from Sarah's school. The image of you standing there so broken, now knowing exactly why, filled him with grief for the version of you he knew and adored. He wished he had known there and then what you had endured. He knew how strong and capable you were of looking after yourself, so he had to fight every urge to raid each block of flats along the street to find the guy who had done this to you.

He flexed his knuckles back and forth over the steering wheel, forcing himself to go straight home. Back to you. However you decided to deal with this, whether it be today or in five years' time, he would be behind you.

What he would do to find that pathetic excuse for a man, that boy, and slowly take each finger off that he had dared to touch you with. He would make him hurt in ways he didn't even know he could feel pain.

Joel's mind flicked back to the image of you breaking down in his arms and he sucked a breath in to steady himself. He wished he could take all of your pain away and alter the course of the last six hours to have you waking up in his arms unscathed.

He returned home to find you curled up asleep in his bed sheets. He crept under the cover next to you, about to pull you back into his arms when you started thrashing your arms and legs.

"No, stop!" You murmured, still fast asleep.

"Sweetheart, it's me. Hey, hey, hey. It's me. It's Joel." He spoke, holding your face between his hands to try to coax you out of your nightmare.

"Wake up, darlin'. You gotta wake up. It's me, you're safe."

Your eyes finally widened, consumed with fear and confusion. You searched your surroundings and backed away from Joel's grip, still calculating where you were and what the threat was.

"You're okay. Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby."

"Joel... I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop apologizing, I'm sorry. I didn't mean t'scare you, honey."

You sat in silence for a few minutes, slowing your breathing back down and ridding the sound of blood pumping in your ears.

"Do you mind if I have a bath, please?"

"Anything. I'll run you one now. Sarah has some o'that fancy girl soap if you want?"

You smiled softly.

"Sure, that sounds nice. Thank you, Joel."

Before heading to the bathroom, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, lingering with his lips on your skin for longer than he had before. Your eyes fluttered closed as you listened to his footsteps out of the bedroom.

Part of you was desperate to scrub away Elijah's touch until your skin was raw. But, another part of you didn't want Joel's smell to fade from you. In his arms his scent had consumed you, replacing the smell of your laundry detergent with his.

You squeezed your eyes tightly and shook your head.

Stop this. You're projecting onto him. He's looking out for you out of the kindness of his heart and you're taking advantage of it.

You tried to distract yourself from the fixating on the feeling of Joel's lips against your skin by shedding last night's clothes and replacing them with his dressing gown. Which of course also stunk of him. Great.

"S'ready." He called.

Catching sight of you in his dressing gown, Joel had to remind himself to close his mouth.

"Suits you." He smiled.

The bathwater was obscenely pink, bubbles almost escaping over the side of the tub.

Joel stood uneasily as you smiled at the domesticity of the scene.

"I'll give ya some privacy. Make myself busy downstairs. You just holler if y'need me, alright?"

"Joel, wait. Would you... it's stupid."

"What is it, sweetheart?"

"Would you sit with me? I really don't want to be alone."

Joel’s response came so quickly you didn’t even have time to feel bad for being so forward.

"Of course I will. You get yourself comfortable, I'll wait outside the door."

You discarded his dressing gown onto the floor, sinking into the warm tub. You ran some more hot water, feeling unsatisfied until the water was hot enough to leave your skin red wherever it touched.

"Come in." You called, your torso submerged underneath the bubbles with just your collarbones and toes poking out of the pink waters.

Under any other circumstance, he would've dropped to his knees by the side of the tub and told you that he had never seen someone look so perfect before. Your flushed cheeks and hair bundled behind your head against the tiles made Joel feel like he was staring at an oil painting in a gallery.

He adored you. Fuck it, he was in love with you. From the very beginning.

Joel lowered himself onto the closed toilet seat, arms resting on his knees.

"Temperature okay?" Was all he could muster.

"I added a bit more hot, I hope that's okay."

"You women and your damn hot water." He teased. "S'absolutely fine, honey."

Neither of you spoke for a little while, you rested your head back and soaked in Joel's protective presence.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Of course, Joel."

"Did he..."

"No. It's funny actually, he couldn't get it up." You said dryly.

"But he tried?"

"Yeah, he tried."

"I'll kill him."

Joel's protectiveness overwhelmed you, feeling for the first time in your life that you had someone unconditionally in your corner. You lifted your arms from the water to cover your face in embarrassment, revealing finger-shaped bruises that had formed on both of your upper arms.

"Fuck," he breathed when he caught sight of the way you had been mistreated.

He knelt down beside the bathtub, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

"What can I do, honey?" He searched your face for an answer. "Tell me how to take all this away for you."

"Joel, you've done so much already. More than I could ever ask from you."

"I just wanna fix it."

By nature, Joel was a fixer. He patched up Sarah's knees and elbows after soccer games. He bailed Tommy out of jail more times than he would admit. Hell, he even fixed things for work. It was what he did.

"I want you to take me back there." You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you had been holding. "To the apartment. I need to go back."

"Y'sure that's a good idea?"

"I am. But I need to go in alone. I just want to know you'll be waiting outside for me if I need you."

"Sweetheart, I'll always come when you call."

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #my fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrostories #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #a bird in your teeth #a bird in your teeth fic #breakfastatjoels

[delimeful]

to know that song (and all its words) (10)

just like virgil, it's time we get to look at the raiders' attack from a few different perspectives :)

warnings: violence, blood and injury, implied minor character death, guilt, fear, lmk if i missed any

-

CAMERA LOG SF 7

DESIGNATION: LOADING BAY

20:34:27

“You hurt him,” Patton said, and he barely even recognized the sound that came out of him as his own voice.

The crowd of aliens was frightening, the way all aliens were to him, but there were some advantages to being monsters, and one of them was that aliens were scared of him back. They parted before him like leaves scattered by a leafblower, his steps unimpeded as he made his way to where a bundle of familiar feathers and fuzz laid. Unnatural, twitching movements spasmed through them, but they hadn’t gone deathly still– not yet.

Whatever the leader alien was saying was lost to the distant buzzing in Patton’s head. Logan’s response made it through, just barely. His voice had dropped into that icy pitch that meant he was well and truly angry, an ominous tone that made something primal and hunted in the back of Patton’s mind shiver to life.

Be ready, it said. We’ll have to fight soon.

He hated fighting more than anything else in space, even the tests. He hated seeing the fear set in, with bristling spines or flinching spikes or rolling, panicked eyes. He hated the way alien bones and bug shells gave way so easily, like they were made of hollow styrofoam or old eggshell.

Feathers’ arm was broken, snapped with a nasty, jutting-out bit of bone that made him feel sick to even see. Patton remembered the chalky taste of shock when he broke his wrist as a kid, the way the hurt had overwhelmed everything, the cautionary tales about grabbing little creatures or bothering baby birds, because they would die from the shock and the stress sometimes.

Aliens were so much more delicate than the little beings back home.

There’s a sob, somewhere in the back of Patton’s throat. He folded it down carefully, because he was surrounded by danger and because Feathers was still alive, and so he couldn’t just give up or break down, not even with all his fear and dread mixing into a horrible, pulsing mess in his gut.

Feathers had always been spirited, from the first moment the three of them snuck onto the little guy’s ship. Patton repeated this to himself like a mantra as he crouched next to them, feeling his lips wobble a little at the sight of their little head craning slightly to see him.

Their eyes narrowed into little crescents, and they made a small, warbling chirp that seemed to get a little tangled halfway through the sound. Feathers had made a lot of sounds, but none of them had ever sounded like this. The high pitched whistling breaths sounded a lot like almost-whines, like a hurt dog begging for help, but Feathers didn’t even seem to know that they were making them.

The alien leader kept speaking as Patton carefully slotted his hands under Feathers’ small, too-light form. The cadence of the words was songlike and mocking, and Patton could practically feel the way Logan’s ire sharpened to a honed point, aimed directly at them like the tip of a saber. Whatever the stranger had said, it hadn’t helped their case at all.

And that was saying something, considering that they’d already dug the hole pretty deep by hurting Feathers, who they’d all grown attached to despite Logan’s best efforts.

Patton has to blink back the automatic tears when he sees Feathers’ arm up close, trying his absolute hardest to lift them into his arms without jarring the injury. He had to hurry; the last thing they needed was for Patton to be stuck on the wrong side of the room with precious cargo during their plan.

Feathers was still conscious as Patton made his way back over to Logan’s side, the hair on the back of his neck prickling in nervous anticipation all the way. They seemed… out of it, their antenna flicking in strange little circles and their feathers puffing up and smoothing back down as waves of trembling pain seemed to work through their little body.

Patton clutched them a little closer, exchanged a brief look with Logan, and scrunched his eyes closed, knowing that he’d need the advantage once Roman flipped the switch. Next to him, Logan would be doing the same, only keeping the slightest sliver of vision to make sure they weren’t ambushed.

Even knowing it was coming, he still flinched away from the burst of noise when Logan whistled the signal.

The final whistle had barely faded into silence when the orange-pink of the back of his eyelids flicked to an unmistakable pitch black.

For a moment, Patton was back in the labs. He moved to grasp for Roman in the dark, knowing that the only way he could help him through these punishments was to grab on and hold tightly, prove that he wasn’t alone in the dark through whispered words and interlaced fingers.

The only thing his hand found was empty air, and next to him, the silhouette of Logan moved.

Right. He had a different friend to look after this time, and if he didn’t hurry, he’d be leaving Logan to deal with an entire ship’s worth of armed aliens on his own. The moment of disorientation would serve as an effective distraction for a few moments– but only that.

He twisted on his heel, ignoring the sicking crunch of impact from a few feet away to lunge back through the doors they’d come in through, turning and sprinting down the hall for onetwothreefourfivesix long steps and turn again, reach out and there was the little open shelf area built into the wall for storage.

This was where he tucked Feathers, the lowest part of the shelf, pushed to the back corner, his heart breaking a little at the pain they were so obviously in.

He left them there with a whispered promise to return, his heart pumping rapidly as he bolted back to where he could hear shouting and the beginnings of screaming, steeling himself as he picked up the heavy section of pipe Logan had left leaning against the wall outside.

They were in this together. No matter how much he hated it, he hated the idea of not standing between his best friends and death– or worse– more.

With a shuddering inhale, he plunged into the fight.

–

CAMERA LOG SF 9

DESIGNATION: CONNECTOR HALL 3

20:40:56

When the sudden darkness hit, Logan’s eyes had been slightly cracked, and so his vision was still partially impaired.

So, for the first few seconds of the fight, he worked off memory alone.

While the pointless, infuriating conversation he’d had with the raiders’ apparent boss had done their opponents absolutely no favors, Logan had never been one to waste an opportunity. He’d spent the duration of it scanning the room, taking in the aliens closest to him, the ones between him and the boss, and the ones with long-range weaponry held ready.

He went for the ones with paralyzing guns first, because the risk of being hit by a stray shot outweighed the potential of letting them fire off their weapons blindly in a panic, and because it gave him higher odds of hitting targets that weren’t immediately lethal, like hands or arms or even tails.

In his experience, flight was a much stronger impulse than fight for most aliens. Seeing as they had far less adrenaline to numb the pain of an injury and allow them to keep fighting through it, Logan understood why.

He also understood that it made diving into the middle of a herd of opponents much less dangerous. The moment the first few cries of pain and crunches of wrenched limbs rang out, there was a frantic scattering away from the center of the room, like a bowl of marbles dropped on the floor.

Good. The less casualties between him and his goal, the quicker this would be over with.

Even as he twisted around the attempted strike of a heavy, lumbering alien, his thoughts still felt like a looping record, dragged back again and again to those moments before they walked in.

He’d been the one to hold up their sign for wait, paused as though he was assessing the situation even though he knew from the cameras that the Ampen had already been taken hostage.

It had been to satisfy his own curiosity, to justify his own paranoia when it came to their surprisingly resilient impromptu pilot.

The other two hadn’t been in space as long as he had, hadn’t been exposed to the depths that aliens would sink to when it came to humans. He’d taken pains to try and keep it that way, though it sometimes felt as though they were undermining his efforts with how friendly they were, even after everything.

He knew why. Roman and Patton both had far more sociable natures than him, and a willingness to believe the best of others that had been stamped out of him. It was only natural that they would be curious about the first alien they’d met that didn’t hold any sort of power over them.

Logan had attempted to warn them— an attack could stem just as easily from fear and ignorance as it could malice and greed. Feathers, as Roman had so creatively dubbed him, certainly seemed terrified and spiteful enough from the very start.

And yet, even he’d started growing lax in the face of the unexpected kindnesses that the Ampen had granted them. Guidance on the food stocks they had, explanations on the facilities, and a slow but steady easing of tensions the longer both parties went without hurting each other.

They certainly seemed to alarm and bewilder the little alien at every opportunity, that much Logan was more than practiced enough in alien body language to pick up on, but there was understanding there, too.

And it certainly wasn’t greed that motivated Feathers. They’d balked at the Dren canister as though he’d been offering them a severed head on a plate, rather than a rare resource that many aliens were willing to commit atrocities to obtain.

It was the best outcome Logan could have asked for.

It was too good to be true.

So, he’d heard the leader offer Feathers a way out, coaxing them with promises of pest removal, and he’d waited.

Because he wanted proof that he’d been right to keep his distance. Because he’d been so sure that this was it, this was the moment that he was betrayed again, except now it wasn’t only his life at risk, but that of the other two, as well.

Because nobody in space cared what happened to a few humans. Not when ‘human’ was synonymous with ‘monster’.

“I don’t… give starscourge pirates shit,” Feathers had spat, words vehement even as their body refused to do more than dangle limply from their captor’s grasp. “Nobody on this ship… ‘cept me, anyhow.”

For the first time since he’d left Earth’s atmosphere, Logan realized that his worst fears were unfounded.

He’d been stunned. Almost too dumbfounded to think, let alone move.

And somewhere in that unforgivable moment of hesitation, Feathers stalwart refusal to give them up made them expendable.

“Useless,” the leader had hissed, the vitriol dragging Logan’s mind back online just in time to hear a splintering crunch.

The high-pitched shriek of pain only lasted for a handful of seconds before it cut off, and Logan had forced himself to move before his lapse in judgement cost their smallest crewmember any more than it already had.

Only half of his mind was on the conversation, the other half spinning wildly out of control as he watched Patton retrieve Feathers and knew from his tremulous expression alone that it was bad.

‘Bad’ for a human was fatal for an alien, more often than not.

“Logan, eight o'clock!” Patton’s familiar voice snapped him back into the present, and Logan stuck a hand out to smoothly receive the pipe Patton tossed his way.

He forced himself to focus, grounding himself with the sensation of his fingers around the cool metal of the makeshift weapon. Patton was at his side. Feathers had been safely removed from the situation.

There was only one matter he could afford to worry about now, and it was ensuring that he and his companions remained free and safe.

Logan stepped forward and swung, aiming to win.

—

CAMERA LOG SF 3

DESIGNATION: MAINFRAME ROOM

20:49:16

Waiting for the all-clear signal had been one of the most painful things Roman had ever had to do.

Up until now, every battle they’d faced, from their daring escape to boarding Feathers’ ship, had been with all three of them fighting together.

To sit in the dim red glow of the emergency light, holding a sharp twisted bit of scrap metal and his heart in his throat, ears straining for any sign that his only friends in the whole of space were alright— it was torture.

Even so, he sat.

Roman would be less than useless in the darkness that played such an instrumental role in their plan, his body responding to the threat and locking down regardless of what his mind had to say. He would become a liability, and the absolute last thing he wanted was to be used against them.

When the whistle finally came— one long call, and then two short bursts— he wasted no time before flicking the lights back on and sprinting down the halls.

Something tight and terrified in his chest loosened the moment the lighting fixtures flickered back to life, but it didn’t fully release its grip on him until he turned a corner and saw Logan, whole and unharmed.

Only Logan.

“Patton—?” he started the moment Logan turned fully to face him.

“Still in the bay,” Logan replied immediately, and for once Roman was grateful for his utter lack of any sense of drama. “He’s helping some of the more critically wounded with tourniquets and the like. They surrendered after I dispatched their leader and the more stringent bodyguards.”

Looking at the way he was splattered heavily with blood, one hand still white-knuckled around the equally-splattered pipe, Roman could imagine why.

“That’s Padre for you,” he replied, trying to remain upbeat even as he detected something distinctly wrong with Logan’s expression. “Is Feathers with him?”

Logan’s face closed off even more, and it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing all the air out of Roman’s lungs.

“They were injured. The severity is…,” he stopped, looking pained. “I need you to guard the main door so I can retrieve them and assess the damage.”

“Go,” Roman said immediately, reaching out and tugging the pipe from his grasp. “Don’t just give up, Specs. I mean, we don’t just have our resources now, right? There’s an entire ship full of supplies right here, and another connected to it. How often do you want to bet space pirates get injured on the job?”

Logan nodded, jerky at first and then smoothing into something more determined. “Right.”

Without another word, he headed down the hall, and Roman took a few deep breaths. He could keep it together for everyone. It didn’t matter if the composure was fake, so long as he acted it out well enough.

By the time Logan returned, he was put-together enough not to balk at the sight of Feathers cradled in his arms like a corpse.

The first thing Feathers had negotiated for was the right to walk for themself. They hadn’t let anyone else hold them since then, still snapped at fingers if Roman tried to pet them even a little.

There was a faint chirping, interspersed with a few nonsense syllables that might have been trying to be words, and Logan drew to a stop immediately, peering down at his passenger.

“Are you with us?” Logan asked, carefully moving a hand to hover over Feathers in an attempt to keep the bright overhead lights from blinding them.

They flinched a little, and then opened their eyes a little further and slowly moved their gaze to stare at Logan.

“You’re badly injured,” Logan told them bluntly in Common, a frantic edge to his voice. “We need to know what sort of treatment will work for you, what kind of medicine— and what amount, as well— is safe for Ampens. It’s very important, Feathers. Can you tell me?”

Roman couldn’t even find it in himself to tease Logan for giving in and using their nickname, too caught up in scanning Feathers’ tiny face for any signs of comprehension, any hope that they would be able to properly treat their wound.

After a few long seconds of blank staring, Feathers straightened up slightly and pushed their head up to butt against the palm of Logan’s hand, like an affectionate cat seeking attention.

Logan went still, like he was being held at gunpoint, and exchanged a desperate, pained look with Roman.

Feathers made a few tiny peeps, more vulnerable that they’d ever let themself be around them before, and Roman struggled not to be overcome by the feeling of his heart sinking right through the floor.

Hesitant and desolate, Logan smoothed his hand over their feathers as carefully as he could. Feathers crooned quietly and slowly settled back into unconsciousness, tiny muscle spasms still rolling through them every so often.

“Find their medic,” Logan said, and when Roman looked up, he found that his friend had settled into the harsh, sharp-edged version of himself, the one he used to harden himself to what they needed to do if they wanted to survive.

They’d all found a little of that in themselves, over the months spent in captivity. Logan had tried to use it to keep a protective shell between himself and their fluffy, stressed out pilot, but Roman was more than willing to use it on Feathers’ behalf.

“I’ll have Patton bring the first one we find to the medical room,” he agreed with a nod, already turning to head into the bay. “Once we’ve got the other ship locked down, we’ll meet you there. Take good care of them until then?”

Logan’s expression twisted the slightest amount, before firming into something determined. “I will.”

#sanders sides fic #alien au #humans are deathworlders #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #tktsaaiw #to know that song and all its words #my writing #writing

[nothing-personal-posts]

"I'm The Crazy One?" (Batfam x Batsis) Final part

Summer: There is a saying. "Die a hero. Or live long enough to become the villain" You refuse to be both. No, you decided to be vengeance itself.

CW: Mental health issues, torture, stalking, violence, mentions of death, cursing, past trauma, mentions of self harm, underage drinking, bad ending

Tag list: @rosecentury @agent-nobody-knows

People call Superman, Batman and The Flash, hero's. While Joker, Luthor and Deathstroke are called, villains.

Rather simple to simple minded people.

But do you want to know the difference between these hero's and villains?

The Hero's have an unsaid code for no killing, a common moral honestly. Because thats not what heros do. Hero's protect, symbols for safety, peace and hope. So they take down the bad guys, and put them away.

While the Villains, they have no code, no morals. They simply want to control, spread chaos and dispare to whomever and whenever. They are killers. So when they are put away to prison or whatever, they brake out. And kill again, spread chaos and dispare to whomever and whenever, again.

And the hero's come to put them away. . . again.

It is a cycle, an unending loop that only stops for a second before starting up again.

But how do you end this cycle? This, usless and rather annoying cycle. Well, it's simple. Take down the Villains. Officially.

Now, some must be thinking. That the hero's can't do that, it was just mentioned that hero's don't kill!

Yes, the hero's can't kill. And simple minded people never really think of putting the Villain's to death due to the huge amount of reliance on the hero's.

So who has the guts to kill a villain, to willingly rid the world of a killer whilst becoming one themselves?

Luckly(and rather sadly), the answer to that question. Is Y/n.

A young girl who had suffered by Jokers schems. A young girl who prays for the night tarrors and panic attacks to stop.

A young girl who sees the man in her dreams, in the mirror, in the dark corner of her room at night. Hears the man's laugh when it gets far too quiet.

You wanted it to stop. To end it all. There were two options you had. End it yourself, or end it yourself.

You took the first option, which lead you to the top of a building. Half empty bottle of tequila you stole from the cellar and nearly dried blood staining your sleeves.

You stumble while aproching the edge. Humming and giggling at your scrambled thoughts.

Mumbling lyrics to a song you had forgotten the name of. None the matter, not like you needed the title of that name anytime soon.

You took one last gulp from the bottle in your hand, finally finishing it. You peeked over the edge.

"That. . . looks far." You hummed and dropped the empty bottle. Waiting till it crashed to the ground. Once you saw the bottle scatter into peices. You hummed and smiled drunkenly.

You stood on top of the edge. Spreading yoir arms open like a bird about to fly out of the nest. Before you even jumped.

You were tackled. Taken far away from the edge.

"Owwww! That hurt!" You pout and whined. You looked up to the person who had tackled you, and instantly smiled and started to giggle.

"Oh Du- ops. Bat signal! Hehe, you saved me~" You were about to say Duke's name. But reminded yourself that he was in his suit.

Duke took in your condition and frowns. He sighed and spoke "Batmans going to kill you." Duke can already hear Bruce's words of displeasure. God, Dick too.

You began to giggle "Silly~ Batman doesn't kill~" you started to giggle even more. Before slowly stopping ". . .batman doesn't kill. . . ."

"You know what I mean--" you blocked out Duke's words.

Because here, is where you relized that Batman- Bruce wouldn't kill Joker. Not for you. Not for anyone. Batman wouldn't permanently take down the one who had caused both you and Jason the worst event in your lives.

And it hurt you. Angered you. You weren't angry at Batman. Just angry that you relized no one could kill Joker. No one.

A few weeks of after that event. You were thinking. And thinking whilst in the condition you were in, wasn't really good.

You had decided to go for option two. End it yourself.

And to do that. You had to make sure that Bruce wouldn't be suspicious of you.

"I think. I need to go back to the mountins. . ." You gave Bruce a speach of how you know that you need help. Need to be alone with your thoughts and learn how to overcome them.

Bruce, of course agreed. He was proud that you made this decision yourself. And not having him painfully send you away unwillingly. You would of course had a tracker on you. Just in case.

You were saying your goodbyes. The last one being Damian. Whne you stopped at Damian. You couldn't help but to get emotional and hug him tight as you felt tears building up.

Damian was your little brother. Even with no blood relation, that is what you saw him as. You always wanted a younger sibling, the thought of spoiling them and protecting them was something you felt proud of.

And now, your leaving him. Knowing what your doing, you mostlikely will never see him after what you are going to do. Probably brake his small heart and trust after too.

But hey, this was for him. For all of them.

You got to the mountains. You took the tracking chip out of your arm and left it at the temple. Took out the tracking devices in your phone, cloths and other things you needed.

You were back in Gotham. And suprise suprise. The Joker was out of prison.

You sighed in disappointment. In your new suit, watching over the city. Knowing you cant act now. No, you had to wait. Watch, and gain the information you need.

So you watched.

Observed every criminal related to Joker. Every gang, every dirt cop every think that you could know about the Joker. You did this for half a month before finally taking action.

You were in the Joker's hideout. Hiding in the shadows. Eyes never wavering off from him. You wanted to do it now. Kill him. Make him suffer. But you couldn't do that. Not yet.

Just a few more hours. A few more hours till he leaves and is unguarded.

Once the Joker was away from anuone else, out of his safe zone. You striked.

You landed on the ground near him. The Joker turned to see someone who was in a suit and mask. He couldn't identify the age nor gender of the person.

The Joker laughed at you. Started up witty comments about how you must be someone who admires the Batman.

You walked closer, fully engulfed by the dark of the night and the shade of another building that blocked the street lamp.

The eyes of your masked glowed a neon purple. You tilt your head, a clicking sound coming from your ask.

Without warning, you grabbed the green haired man by his face and smashed his head against the brick wall.

You assalted the man for a good minute before dragging him by the hair to a dark corner.

The last thing the Joker remembers before knocking out, is your glowing eyes and that clicking sound.

Phase one was to observe and gain info. Check.

Now, phase two. Stalk the Joker and his every move and attack him when he's alone and defenseless. Continue to do this till he doesn't feel safe in places he's supposed to be, with people who he trust.

Unknown to you, phase two was working after showing up to Joker three other times, he's been seeing those glowing eyes in the shadows when you weren't even there.

And when it got too quite. He would hear that clicking sound. It was driving him more crazy then he usually was.

You had fun. Your not ashamed to say it, that you enjoyed watching him show sighns of suffering from afar. Hurting him in unexpected ways that made you smile.

There were times when you would unexpectedly run into your family. Batman tried to take you in, but you escaped. Giving him no words but a head tilt and the clicking sound you make.

It wasn't long till the media took wind of you. Your actions and swiftness reminded others of an owl. So they so cleverly called you "The Owl"

You decided, that youve had your fun. And it was time to end the loop.

So, for your last visit to dear old Joker, you attacked him in his hideout. No one was there. Just him.

So you tied him up, dressed him in his most classic clown clothes. Added a little flower in his chest pocket for decoration.

You circle around him, making those same clicking noises. Watched him replace his fear with weak chuckles and empty threats that turned to bribes them back to threats again.

He was a mess.

He watched as your suite suddenly popped out claws. You hummed and got closer to the man. The look he had on his face made you chuckle. And for the first time, he heard your voice.

"Why so serious?"

You laughed after saying those words. Because, it was something the Joker himself used to say.

You got closer to his face, lifting your claws to the each end of his lips.

"Come on now. Give me a big smile~" Your claws dig deep into his pale skin, slowly tracing the red paint that formed a smile and forcing his lips to go upward as well.

"Ah! Look at that. Such a dazzaling smile. . . now, let's keep that smile there."

You pulled out a big needle and thread thick enough to go through skin.

You took your time sewing up the smile so it could stay still. You hummed to a melody that just stayed in your head. Happyily sewing like you were patching up a doll, blood trickling sowing the man's face, mising with his sweat and tears

You leaned away and smiled under your mask.

"All done!" You made your hands clap rabidly in an excited and hyped gester.

Something wasn't right. The air in Gotham has been stilled. Like the big crimes and crimanals hace been put on a pause.

And Bruce noticed this quickly. And it has something to do with this: Owl, person.

They showed up out of nowhere. Beating some of the criminals half to death, and drag said crimanals so they could, 'play' with them. The only reason Bruce got this information was because of Selena.

She watched one of Owl's attacls go down. And it was brutal.

Even Damian, at school. All the kids talked about was 'the Owl' and how cool they were. Besides from that, Damian found out a few rumors.

How the Owl might be female. And how the Owl might be conected to the Joker going missing.

Yes, missing. The Joker hasn't been active ever since you came into his life. But the public doesn't really know your the reaon why Joker has been inactive. So the assumed he had gone missing.

But, most of the big bad guys in Gotham know. . .they know why. They had many reasons not to interfere.

And now, they will never even think of it.

It was all over the news.

Joker found dead on the outskirts of Gotham

The details, were probably too much for a lot to take in on the condition of Jokers body. Or what was left.

It wasn't long till Bruce and the others found out it was the Owl who had done it. And saddly for them, took less time to find the now poorly hidden identity of the Owl, for the Owl had finished their main goal. And no longer cared.

You were on a balcony in the Wayne manor. Thw last place the others would think to find you. But Bruce did. It seemed like he always knew.

Dick and Jason were right behin Bruce as the three watched you stare up into the sky.

"Y/n." Bruce spoke. Your lips curled into a smile.

"Batman. . ."

Bruce frowns in your response. "Did you do it." His voice firm. You frown. Was that seriously the first thing dear old pops say to you?

You began to chuckle out of frustration.

"Do what?" You turned around and gave them an innocent look.

"Kill Joker!" Jason shouted. Dick was there to hold Jason back just in case. You leaned on the railing and crossed your arms.

". . . You mad Jay? Don't worry. Made him suffer before killing him." Yeah, like that would make the man any happy.

You began to chuckle to yourself. "You guys wanna know something funny" yoir chuckling slowly ecalated to loud laughing.

"He called me-- he called me Crazy!"

The three watched your laughong combined with small sobbing. It was sad, and deeply discerning.

"I'm the crazy one? After all the shit IM CRAZY!?"

It seemed like everything was hitting you all at once. Falling to your knees. Your laughter being overtaken by crying.

Bruce sighed and went over to embrace you in a hug.

This had them thinking. Maybe they were too late. Maybe they never truly saved you that day. The you that they knew, had already died without them knowing.

#batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #barbra gordon #bruce wayne #damian wayne #duke thomas #jason todd #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #platonic love #found family #angst #bad ending #death

[gingertumericlemon]

When Last We Met

@pearlypairings sent along a sweet little prompt for "crashing the party" and here we are. A stupid little bonbon for the Hellcheer crowd❤️

The captain’s quarters looked empty but by now she knew that meant nothing. Instead of rushing inside, she took her time to peer intently around the room.

The walls were lined with hide-bound books and maps to skies she did not recognize. The few spaces on the shelves not packed with texts showcased arcane curios and dazzling artifacts–few she recognized; but their intricacy and value was apparent to even those who had not traversed the Holy Seas and the Nine and Twenty sky channels besides. In stark contrast to these trophies of taste and sophistication were the instruments of murder mounted on the wall–blades and rifles frugal in design, the easier for claiming lives. Their simplicity spoke of their danger. Her starry, lavender gaze landed on the bay window framed by cobalt velvet curtains behind the wide desk (strewn about with telescopes and astrolabes and a cinnabar opium pipe) through which nothing but clouds could be seen. If she looked through, she’d see nothing but clouds until the faintest smudge of earth some 15,000 feet below. A beautiful emerald-green bird with elegant curling tailfeathers sat contentedly on a perch beside the desk, looking at her with a curious expression. Beneath her feet was a persistent but not unpleasant hum–the tell-tale sign of the pumping pistons and firing steam engines which kept this magnificent, mysterious vessel afloat above the unwitting citizens of Faerun. 

Cosette raised her wrist to her flushed lips and whispered into the little topaz token embossed with her party’s totem. “The coast is clear.” Then she tugged her blouse up. It somehow kept riding down beneath her corset. 

Luthandriel entered first, his radiant broadsword at attention as he scanned his flank for more pirates beyond those they’d already left gutted in the galley. Dumas followed, his halfling form obscured at first to Cosette by a massive globe depicting a far-off celestial landscape. He whistled in admiration as he absently strummed his zither, trailing silver sparks of enchanted music behind him. “Good taste for a barbarian,” he muttered as he pocketed an hourglass of fine dwarvish make. My’thias came last, his massive golden wings barely squeezing through the door such that he had to kind of half turn-out and scooch sideways to fit.  He wiped pirate blood from his snout with a scaly claw. “Is it here? The codex?”

The Beggar’s Mercy spread out and began to search. All except Cosette who was made to stand by the door and keep watch because she. Well. Because they all told her she was the best at it, she guessed!

She shrugged her shoulders (pale, shimmering like quartz in the light) and sighed. Somehow the top of her bodice had gotten all pulled down again amongst the hooks and stays of her corset which was brocade and the color of a new dawn. You could almost see her nipples for um Tyr’s sake! She turned her gaze downward for just a moment to adjust herself and froze. There was something cool and violent positioned at the nape of her neck. 

“You would do well,” a voice like charred and honeyed meat dripping with fat murmured into her ear, “To leave your garments as I fancy them.” 

She did not move. There was the subtle but unmistakable click of a flintlock pistol. “Should have been more thorough in your search, pet,” the voice continued. A hand–huge and calloused and covered in rings–seized her by the waist….

Weakly, Cosette bleated, “Um, guys….” Luthandriel, Dumas, and My’thias turned and groaned. 

“Did you investigate the room?” Dumas didn’t sound angry. Just deflated. Cosette blushed. “I did, I mean–I thought I did–”

My’thias flapped his wings in draconian agitation. “Passive perception isn’t the same thing, we TOLD YOU–” but Luthandriel cut him off. “The lady is new to our land and new to our laws,” he said in a lofty voice. “You would do well to extend her grace and courtesy.”

Against her neck, Cosette could feel the captain smirk. She squirmed in his incredible mighty  powerful grip but no matter how hard she fought she couldn’t break free! “Your paladin speaks sense. I’d pay him mind. Now. Let us be reasonable. We’re all men of business here.”

“You’re no businessman! You’re a murderous sky-pirate!!!!” Cosette thought that sounded pretty good!!! 

Into his fist My’thias could be heard to mutter, “Sky-pirates aren’t even high fantasy, they’re steampunk,” and dodged a caltrop aimed at his eye by the captain in return for his insolence. 

“All men have their price. What’s a pretty rogue like this trade for on terra firma these days?” The captain punctuated his query with a hot swipe of his tongue along the side of Cosette’s face. She liquidated and swooned in his grasp. The party stared in flat-eyed disbelief.

Luthandriel whispered, “Nasty.” 

Then the halfling, the paladin, and the dragonguy thing went into a huddle. 

As they conferred, the captain rumbled in her ear, “Love the corset.” Cosette frowned. “I messed up the–the spying.” He laughed and rubbed his–no she wasn’t gonna say that part!!!!!!!–himself against her. “Little one, that’s half the fun.” 

The huddle ended and Dumas stepped forward. He had an unconcerned expression on his face, like, he was actually pretending to clean his fingernails!!! 

“What use have we for such a silly rogue? She brings us nothing but misery and ill-fortune. Take her. Have your way with her. All we ask is safe passage from your quarters and use of a lifeboat.”

Cosette gasped. “You…you little WORMS!!!” She stamped her foot! What the FUCK! She’d barely even gotten to DO ANYTHING! 

The captain threw his head back and laughed, drawing Cosette ever closer against him. Her nipples were basically entirely exposed at this point, like there was some force outside her control drawing them out as if with a magnet. “I have her already within my power, halfling! You presume you have leverage? You’re lucky I don’t slit her throat where she stands.” Which, like–no. But also, like—hmmm! 

Dumas sighed. “I thought you might say that. To sweeten the deal, we’ll throw in this.” He reached into the pocket where he’d stashed the stolen hourglass except now it looked like a freaking enormous diamond which twinkled and shone just like that one in The Rescuers! Cosette gasped. There was a pause. She could feel the captain settle and consider as he stared at the diamond. She wriggled a little against him, just once, just in case he like. Forgot his hostage!! Or something! 

The captain tilted his head which she knew because the plume from  his hat tickled her face. “That’s a fine stone, halfling. What’s to stop me from taking it from your cold fingers right now?”

Dumas tried to stand a little taller. “It’s four against one, Dreadnought.” Cosette felt a pink sweet thing uncurl in her chest at being included as one of the four. She should have known! Good old Dumas! The captain made a faux-thoughtful noise. “You’re right. Seems hardly fair.” And he snapped his fingers and three sky-pirates rushed into the room!

Foul and heartless they were, these pirates, with not one wink of compassion gleaming in their dull and greedy eyes. These were no mercenaries, who might be bargained with for a higher salary. These were bloodthirsty men, hardly men at all, expelled from the earth’s warm soil to the cold and bitter reaches of the heavens to better indulge their lawless appetites for treasure, ale, flesh, and murder! Their leader of sorts headed up the pack with a cutlass in his hand–in his horrible grin, the party could glimpse he had razors for teeth (ew!) which flashed with malice in the candlelight of the quarters. His companions each boasted pistols which they aimed at the party. 

The Beggar’s Mercy sort of jockeyed for position amongst themselves, and Cosette took advantage of the distraction to wrest herself free from the pirate captain’s grip! Yeah!!! She heard him grunt once in surprise and maybe something else, oh my GOSH ANYWAY she was free. Then she reached to her belt (oooh it was pale deerskin from a market in Neverwinter and studded with silver coins from her finest heists!) and withdrew Shiver by her ebony handle. She steadied her hand and remembered her extremely tragical backstory in the dew-drenched woods of Collum’s Close. Then she took aim and threw Shiver directly into the heart of the farthest pirate! It was a deadeye hit! Her best shot ever!!!! Luthandriel and Dumas cheered. The pirate made a noise like “AURGH!” (everybody always kind of sounded the same when they died…..) and slumped to the floor. Viscous black blood began to drain from his lifeless body. 

Dumas’s eyes went wide with glee. “Does that mean he’s–”

“He’s not undead,” the captain interrupted. Cosette could see his face now and it was VERY handsome :)  “For the last time. These are not fucking undead pirates. Black blood is just cool.” 

Dumas played a pissy little riff on his zither and pouted. “I think undead pirates are pretty cool too but what do I know….”

“She doesn’t have a bonus action,” My’thias said.

Everybody was like, um. 

“She used her whole–”

Dreadnought popped one fearsome eyebrow. My’thias went sort of pale around the edges of his scales and corrected herself.

“She used all her strength to escape from you. She can’t–it doesn’t seem NARRATIVELY PLAUSIBLE–” and here Captain Dreadnaught nodded like you may proceed, “That she could do both things at once.”

The dead pirate’s head lifted off the ground by a half-inch, with one eye cautiously open. The other two lackeys exchanged a look. 

Cosette knew who she was attacking the next chance she got. 

Sheepishly, Shiver withdrew herself from the chest of the pirate with a noise like schlorp, shook off the black blood like a wet dog, and floated back to Cosette’s hand. The rent flesh and shattered bone at the center of the no-longer-dead pirate’s chest knit themselves neatly back together and he scrambled to his feet. Cosette caught Dreadnought’s black and wild eyes and mouthed sorry. 

“Nothing to apologize for,” the emerald-colored bird squawked from the perch. 

“Happens all the time,” flapped an ancient open caster’s tome with dry pages.

“It’s called a learning curve!!!” Three pewter goblets with lids of horn chorused from the captain’s shelves. 

“ENOUGH OF THIS NONSENSE!” My’thias snarled. Smoke poured from his nostrils and tongues of flame flickered along the edge of his snout. “GIVE US THE CODEX OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!”

Dreadnought laughed. “You know, our galley’s amateur theatrical society is looking for someone to play Faithful Madeline in MY WANDR’ING TIEFLING’S HEART. If you’re auditioning.” 

“Oi’m playin’ Sweet William,” offered the pirate with razors for teeth. 

More smoke–dark and sulfurous–leaked into the room. “I GROW WEARY OF YOUR GAMES!” My’thias’s snarl grew to a full-throated roar. His scales began to glow white-gold. “I CAST–”

“Do not even THINK ABOUT IT–” Luthandriel shouted at the same time that Dumas groaned, “Are you fucking kidding me dude–!!” but all this was drowned out by My’thias’s screech of, “FIREBALL!!!!!”

In the split-second before the explosion, Cosette saw the faintest glimmer of a smirk pass over Dreadnought’s face. He made a complicated little sigil with his fingers. She braced for her own incineration, but instead there was an enormous shattering of glass and a feeling like whiplash as suddenly she was jerked towards the bay window at the end of the quarters, which was no longer a bay window at all but a massive, gaping hole in the ship’s side. There was a horrible roaring, whooshing noise, loud enough to deafen all other sounds. Then a terrible pounding in her ears as she desperately clung to a chair which luckily seemed to be bolted to the floor. The air was freezing and wild, yanking her without mercy towards the yawning chasm of clouds. She tried to breathe but could not–the air was sucked from her lungs by the change in pressure. Her yards of lilac hair were ripped from their extremely adorable braided buns festooned with ribbons and charms, and now whipped painfully behind her as she clung with a weakening grip to the armrest. She turned towards Dreadnought, silently pleading, her lips were turning blue–!! 

And suddenly she fell to the floor. It was still. It was warm. Strong hands, calloused hands, drew her up gently from the ground. “Steady there, little one,” Dreadnought murmured. “Take your time. Find your breath.” She looked up into his eyes and felt her heart shimmer. He had a scar running from his right eyelid to his Cupid’s bow. Oh wow. Like. Haha! WOW! He held her aloft as she breathed for a moment. 

Then she looked down. Her tits were completely out. 

The captain shrugged. “Call it my savior’s fee.” The beautiful bird had somehow found sanctuary too. It was perched on his shoulder. “SAVIOR’S FEE, SQUAWK!” it echoed. It did not sound very much like a bird at all, actually. 

WHATEVER. She looked over her shoulder and saw there was a thick veil of golden mist sealing her, the captain, and the rest of the ship from the charred ruin which was once his quarters. There was no sign of Dumas–he must have been instantly sucked into the sky. Poor dear Dumas! He never was very strong. Luthandriel was holding on with what little constitution he had left to another bolted-down chair, as My’thias twisted his claws into the splintering wood for grip. “THIS IS PUNITIVE!” he screamed, but it was muffled as if shouted through a thick sweater. “YOU ARE RAILROADING–”

A ballast beam ripped from the side of the ship and hit him in the face. 

“But Captain Dreadnought, what of all your fine treasures?” Cosette trembled as the beast advanced hungrily upon her.

“IF YOU SAY SHE’S ALL THE TREASURE YOU NEED I’LL–”

BONK. Another beam.  

“You heard the dragonguy thing,” Dreadnought pushed a lavender curl behind one of her lovely, slender, pointed ears which had two diamond earrings and a couple really sweet silver hoops pierced through it too! “The time has come for me to claim my bounty.” When he kissed her he tasted like caramel rum. (This part was private too but when he pressed her body to his her nipples rubbed against the rough flax of his unlaced shirt and it was like ooooooh it was so NICE!!!!!) 

Just before My’thias lost his hold entirely and vanished into the void, Captain Dreadnought broke away from Cosette’s warm and tender (aw!) embrace. “By the way, lads,” he mentioned. “The bird was the codex.”

“AWK! I contain the key to all mythologies!” the bird said. “Ok, that’s pretty cool–” Luthandriel tried to add but was lost to the sky. “I HATE STEAMPUNK, I HATE IT SO MUCH!!!” My’thias screamed, but then he was lost to the sky too.

“Now, little one,” the captain whispered in Cosette’s ear. “Have you ever heard of an acrobatics check?”

“Oh my GOD–I mean TYR–” Cosette tried to roll her eyes but then he was kissing her once again so she had to check if she got a bonus on splits or anything like that. 

It turns out she did and everybody except them got mad about it!!!

#edward “eddie” munson #christine “chrissy” cunningham #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer #i am very good at dungeons and dragons actually and know exactly how to play it with no mistakes and a high score #your honor i'm stupid but extremely cute

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Thank you all so much for these kind words. Especially to the person who's been binging my stuff lol. I truly hope you enjoy this next part

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

A Bird in the Hand, Part 6

The villain’s gardener, it seemed, had a sense of humour. Red roses like blood, angel’s trumpets heady with poison, black halloween pansies littering the ground. It was precisely what the civilian would have come up with if they’d been asked to design a landscape that screamed “evil.”

“Are you cold?” the villain asked.

Of course the civilian was cold. It was autumn, and they were in a t-shirt. But they weren’t going to say as much. These walks on the grounds were all they had left.

There was a movement, and they looked up in surprise. The villain had removed their jacket, and placed it on the civilian’s shoulders.

“You need to tell me when something’s wrong,” the villain said, pushing their wheelchair forward. “How else am I meant to reward good behaviour?”

There was another plant, kept in the villain’s greenhouse – the sundew. Brightly colored, and vibrant, bathed in a glistening substance reminiscent of morning dew. With its beauty and sweetness, it attracted a variety of insects. By the time the insects understood that they were trapped in the sticky substance, there was nothing to do but writhe, as the thing’s tentacle-like arms slowly wrapped around them. Digestion took several days.

The civilian looked between the villain and the jacket, and slowly wrapped it around themself. They’d been procrastinating on asking their question, afraid of the consequences. But maybe it made no difference. Maybe they were already stuck.

They slowly took in a breath, and released it. “I make you stronger, don’t I?”

The villain stopped pushing the chair.

There was a beat of silence. Two. Three. The civilian opened their mouth to apologize –

“How did you figure it out?”

The confirmation slammed into the civilian’s gut like a sledgehammer.

“It was your fight.” They worked to keep their voice even. “I couldn’t figure out how you won. [Hero]’s always been so much stronger. And then I realized, the only thing that changed between the two of you was, um, well . . . ”

“Was you.”

The civilian nodded.

The villain moved to stand before them. They didn’t look angry, but the villain had never needed to look angry to hurt them. The civilian struggled to not glance away.

They shouldn’t have spoken. But they hadn’t thought they’d actually be right. They were never right. What was the villain going to do now? Would they think this information gave the civilian an advantage, and punish them for it? Did it give them an advantage?

Maybe.

Maybe, if they could just figure out how they were giving the villain strength, they could . . .

“I can see you, you know,” the villain smirked. They drew closer. “Trying to work out all the little knots.” They placed both hands on the arms of the civilian’s wheelchair, and loomed over them. “I hope you realize, this changes nothing.”

The civilian swallowed, and leaned back away from the villain. “Of course.”

“You think I don't know you?” The villain crouched down so that they were eye-level. “You're imagining that if you figure this out, you will have leverage over me. That you may even be able to free yourself. But don’t you see, [Civilian]?” They ran a hand into the civilian’s hair. “That is never, ever going to happen.”

The civilian closed their eyes, and held back a frightened whine. “Yes, [Villain].”

“Always so, so clever,” the villain mused. “It makes me picture all the different uses for such a clever little mouth.”

The fear was a knife blade racing up the civilian’s skin. They held still, and waited for the shoe to drop.

And then, a thought occurred to them. Their clever mouth, their speaking, their . . . They opened their eyes.

“It’s my voice.”

The villain froze.

The long conversations. The late-night singing. How had it taken the civilian this long to put two and two together?

Did it strengthen all powers, or just the villain’s? Did it have any other effects? Maybe, just maybe, if they resolved to never speak again, they could weaken the villain until –

The villain yanked hard on the civilian’s hair, eliciting a yelp.

The villain smiled, savouring the sound. “And what if it is your voice, love? You’re never going to go quiet on me. I know all the best ways of making you scream.”

The civilian took in the villain’s gleeful stare. Horrible dread washed over them, as they finally accepted the one fact that had been so plainly obvious from the very beginning.

A day was never going to come, in which the villain didn’t want them.

The civilian’s watery gaze met the villain’s. They couldn’t, wouldn’t let themself cry. “Can we at least tell my family what happened to me?”

Suddenly, they heard a soft thunk. Both the villain and civilian turned to look.

Embedded in a tree, not far from the villain’s head, was a familiar cerulean blue dart.

“[Hero],” the civilian gasped, barely above a whisper.

The villain jumped up, summoning their shadows. They searched the trees with wild flickering eyes.

The civilian’s heart swelled with hope for the first time in days. The hero had come back for them. The civilian was going to be rescued. They were finally going to be –

They felt a sharp prick.

“Oh.” The civilian slowly reached up. Touched the space just above their collarbone. Pulled out a dart. “Not a rescue.”

The villain glanced down to them, and their expression washed with terror.

It was the last thing the civilian saw, before they titled forward.

Part 7

#villain x civilian #heroes and villains #whump #whumpblr #kidnapping #captivity #whump drabble #whump series #civilian x villain #hero x civilian #civilian x hero #villains and heroes #writeblr #writing snippet #whump writing #villain #hero #not a prompt

[yuudisnymph]

I tried to make a fanfic about twst Disney wonderland, there maybe grammatical errors so spare me but I hope I did great at my first time.

•••••••••

You quickened your running pace as your veil skimmed through the forest. You discerned a person running after from behind. You refuse to turn your head. Except, not for being scared of who they are for you already know who are they. Yet, you're afraid to glimpse back that can only bring revisions to your mind to go back to where you are supposed to belong.

"Prince--"

"Neigh!!!!"

You stopped running after the sensation of your feet gaining pressure from gravity with a brew of apprehension that vacated you frozen, incapable of any movement. While overseeing a huge horse and its forelimbs in the air as if an individual manipulated it to stop.

"A black carriage?! Retreat!" wardens wailed behind me that had the guts to chase a royal blood but can't face a black horse. You heard feet of alarmism as they scurry out. While you are left with nowhere to escape.

As its forelimbs are dropping off where your head is at direct hit, everything went black.

When you woke up where you remembered you didn't closed you're eyes or even fell senseless. Nonetheless, now, you found yourself at a dark narrow space that fit perfectly at your shape. But you felt suffocated after a while and tried to whack the solid smooth wall. But your fist is too soft that you ended up being hurt instead of whatever that thing you are hitting for. Now decided to kick it or else you'll end your body breathless here. Then raised your legs with a hand posture like a karate youngster then roared "Wayahhh!!!"

Preferably sun rays must greet your eyes. Still, dull chandeliers, and greenish lantern candles gave light upon you at the creepy surroundings as you barged out. It fell on a gray tile then you examined where are you earlier which made you shiver. When you glimpsed back then looked down "Who on earth would put a human alive in a coffin?!!!" as you cried out.

But instead of one response, rumors plagued around. Now you conceded you are not only conversing with one person, you don't even know if you are talking to your identical kind. You inspected around using both your eyes, some have furry ears, fangs, tails, weird hair, weird makeup, tattoos on cheeks, or odd fashion wear under their hoods. Regardless, you can sense unclear energy from them.

"Getshhsjx ofskxjnsnxjs" someone uttered underneath the coffin cover from where you're standing.

"Did he just come out by himself?"

"Did you just hear what he spoke up, he's a human?"

"Did he just stepped on the head master?!"

You heard various rumors but the last statement that echoed in your mind resulting to a wide eye expression.

Headmaster?!!!!!

You vaulted out of it then leaned ready to lift it but you stepped on a foot from behind you. Out of anxiousness you dropped the coffin cover that hit once again to the head master and turned around to apologize whoever you stepped on to.

"My dear, your oath to embezzle the desire of being a center of attention more than the fairest of thy all" he explained with a beauty of accent from his voice. You almost mistaken him as a girl for her hair is like, well fit for feminity. Let's just call her fancy pants

You find him creepy so you turned again ready to lift the coffin instead. But a scarlet-haired someone stopped you while a pen with a ruby stone attached pointed at your face. He stomped his feet echoing the place and left the room quietly, then yelled.

"Don't endeavor to move, or you'll beheaded at once!"

Now this is angry bird

After it, someone pounced from the chandelier similar to a lion and then landed beside us.

"I'm ain't letting you all attain entertainment. I wanna join, let's tie him up then toss to a wild fire. Now we have a feast"

He looks like a lion, he's.....

Lion Kingkong

"Shut up, rule breakers are meant to split their heads!"

Someone tapped my shoulder and there a man with glasses negotiated.

"Alright mortal, We can tolerate this as long as you grant something sufficient in return.

Since when was he here? Let's name him mole glasses

"Geez, lets cool out a bit. Greet him first a slaying welcome" said some other guy with a shaggy spiky flaming blue hair.

Now he's Blue highlighter.

Another guy ran towards us but stumbled when he didn't step suitably on the stairs before you reach the stage. He immediately stood up to avoid discomfiture and then called out to someone to act naturally.

"These stairs are a handy trap, I tested it and it's a trickster for intruders" he excused akwardly. Then continued, "Hey Malleus!, Throw that isolation of yours. Make an effort to mesmerize yourself, let's all have fun! " some brown skin with white choppy hair called out.

While this is umm..... brown monkey

"We shouldn't mess with freshmen" some kid suggested. He kinda looks like a girl and kinda short. Yet I like his hairstyle especially his slant bangs.

I'll name her little slant.

"Silence!" someone shouted and all heads turned onto where the voice came from.

There's a mirror almost in front of me that levitates above the ground. But what made it impressive is its reflection has a mask in a green shade. No eyes, no teeth but has spoken.

"Light bestowed upon her. Chosen are never mistaken, thy shall dwell amongst us"

The mirror proclaimed and then vanished its image.

••••••

I will be delighted to recive any comments and hearts. Let me know if you want a part two or be tagged, for now I'll be with the shadows.

#disney twst #twst wonderland #twst x reader #twst #Twisted wonderland #Disney twisted wonderland #Disney twisted wonderland fanfic #Twst wonderland x reader #Twst x you #Azul x reader #Riddle x reader #Lilia x reader #twisted wonderland lilia #riddle rosehearts #twst fanschool #twst fanfic #twst vil #vil shoenheit x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #kalim al asim #twst kalim #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst nrc #nrc #twst fanfiction #Malleus x reader

[smart-fire-werewolf]

The Angry Birds Show: Blood And Guts Date Reveal??!?!

#Angry Birds Blood And Guts #angry birds #sega #nintendo #nintendo switch #ps4 games #ps5 games #xbox series x #xbox1 #rovio entertainment corporation #digtal art #my art #bandai namco entertainment #fanart

[cowboymenace]

The So Called Rub of Jericho

I wasn’t always a full time AEW viewer, in fact I began watching regularly in the summer of 2022. What attracted me was Eddie Kingston. 

Eddie had the physique of a plumber, the gear of an indie guy who forgot his main attire at home so he scrapped together what he could find, and the speech of an angry New Yorker who spent the days yelling at kids on his stoop. That is what makes him so appealing. At the time, Kingston was feuding with Chris Jericho and his faction The Jericho Appreciation society. This faction had some of the guys from the previous Jericho stable, The Inner Circle, with some new additions in 2.0 and Daniel Garcia. The gimmick: Sports Entertainers who hated wrestling. If it sounds like an obnoxious WWE parody, then you’re right it was. You got the joke immediately and did not have room for expansion, they were guys who dressed in goofy matching outfits and “entertained” that’s really it. Kingston would get back up from the Blackpool Combat Club and LAX (Santana and Ortiz). They would do Anarchy in the Arena and Blood n Guts. The feud had strong moments with Kingston walking down the ramp during AitA, blood on his face, a cold dead stare, and a canister of gasoline and Kingston and Co. winning the BnG match. 

However it would have the stankest, wettest fart of an ending where Jericho and Kingston would have an abysmal barb wire match that saw Jericho winning with botches a plenty. Kingston would go on to get in a backstage altercation with Sammy Guevara who provoked him. He was in the wrong to get physical with someone who is an aggravating little turd, and he would tell you that himself. A suspension would follow and Kingston gave a half sincere apology on the short lived AEW reality tv show to which I do not care enough to look up the name. 

This is what feuding with Jericho does to an M. F. 

Kingston is not the only victim I saw fall to Jericho, Daniel Garcia is another name that comes to mind. Garcia was the young blood of the JAS. Originally under the tutelage of 2.0 and then absorbed into the JAS. He’s a gifted technical wrestler, but was a SANADA type, who did not really have any personality but was good at the graps. The goal, at least what we the viewers assumed was the goal, was to make Garcia a new bright star. He became the center of the JAS vs BCC feud, with Danielson wanting him to join their stable as he saw the potential in him. Garcia would get a clean win over Dragon and even went after the ROH Pure Title. The Dynamite where he challenged for the belt saw him get a special entrance coming out to DR BIRDS by Westside Gunn (the Jack Nicholson of Wrestling [thanks Olly!]).

 This was in his hometown, and he got the victory, this should’ve been his star making moment. Until the swerve happened. What we thought was going to be him breaking away from Jericho he would continue to be his underling, he lost the belt back to Wheeler Yuta, his momentum came to a screeching halt, but hey at least he dances funny now! Garcia has been mostly another guy with a dumb gimmick that makes him meme worthy. This misusage can be pointed at Jericho, but Tony Khan is equally as guilty.

Jericho would also go on to win the ROH World Title. Weirdly, he would have straightforward clean wins over previous ROH champions/regulars and one Tomohiro Ishii. Among these matches Jericho would have another worst match of the year contender with Colt Cabana. One that is meant for the boys.

 A rib directed to a extremely disgruntled CM Punk. To be fair, Cabana was wearing the wrong socks which messed up his flow (be patient he’s only been wrestling for a few measly decades) but for Jericho what was his excuse? Jericho would get a “win” over Danielson, Castagnoli, and Guevara at Full Gear (140,000 buys) but then unceremoniously lose it at ROH Final Battle (25,400 buys hm wonder why he would drop it on such a low buyrate) to the guy he beat for it rather than put over someone new. Going by Cagematch Jericho would only lose 4 singles matches. Sure you want to keep someone like Jericho strong, especially since he's a former world champion. However, that number is insanely protective of a 53 year old guy who’s at the tail end of his career. 

Jericho would try to make up for this, spending 2023 losing more than winning. It was not great. 

Right after losing the ROH belt, Jericho would put over an unknown Action Andretti in a shocking upset.

 Action Andretti in 2023 is 10-16 and most of his matches are in ROH. Ricky Starks would have an amazing showing in his world title match, and to follow that up he would have to do his time with Jericho. He would beat Jericho on his first encounter and then go on to beat him once again at Revolution. It felt like a waste of time, the matches were not spectacular, Ricky was going downhill and thankfully Collision would save his heat, but there’s strong rumors regarding his departure for the WWE. 

His next victim was Adam Cole, and Keith Lee who already struggles to get on booked on TV had to lay down for Jericho to sell this program. Jericho would team up with (read: try to get in on Saraya’s heel turn heat) The Outcasts to beat up Britt Baker to give Cole some character motivation.

 The segment where The Outcasts and JAS hate-crimed Baker and Cole was strange to me, because the JAS have two female wrestlers in their ranks. It is as if Jericho simply forgot about them. To give Cole and Jericho’s matchup more juice, TK brought in Sabu and the match was made an unsanctioned match (but was aired on PPV?). The match was bad, and the feud forgotten. Luckily for Cole, he is so over that he moved onto to have one of the best programs with MJF. 

Following this Jericho would face off against Sting for a mini feud, but the Jericho Rub could not harm Sting because he is Sting. Simple As.

Enter Don Callis. He betrayed Kenny Omega during the BCC vs Elite Feud and replaced him with Takeshita as the wrestler he would be the personal manager to. He became the most hated heel in the company and having personally sat in the crowd where he had his first town hall as a heel, I can confirm the boos were deafening. Callis would then reach out to Jericho to join the Don Callis Family faction and Jericho was going to join. Jericho would team up with Takeshita and cheat to beat Guevara and Garcia. This would lead to the break up of the JAS, where all members sans Jericho and Guevara would continue to team with each other almost like they just became the *AS. 

Then Callis saw his cronies give a beat down on Jericho, which I must applaud Jericho’s ability to find himself working with the most over acts in the company, he always finds a way to involve himself. Hell he even pitched a program with a returning CM Punk which I no do not doubt would have been the worst wrestling match ever put on American broadcasting! Jericho is a shark and if there’s blood in the water he will find it. Jericho joined the Elite vs Callis feud, and even faced a Will Ospreay at All In. The build to this match was baffling. Ospreay is practically a heelish face in NJPW. He was the face in the match against Kenny at Wrestle Kingdom, and mostly works face. However he’s heel in AEW. Sure he worked heel vs Kenny at Forbidden Door since Canada, but the build to All In saw him be a heel. Then at All In he’s a face since London! What is going on! Jericho just turned face! Now he’s doing heel tactics and even said at the aftermath Dynamite he should have cheated??? Who wrote this?? At least Ospreay went back to NJPW and is finishing up his run there.

Jericho and Sammy would have tension teasing some kind of split. Now before I go any further, I must preface: I do not like Sammy Guevara. He is an overused, overexposed, mishandled and misbooked worker who represents zero IQ wrestling psychology. He’s a terrible promo and has terrible character work. He has attempted to turn face only to go back to heel because when he tries cutting a face promo and you can hear the simultaneous clicks of remote buttons to change it to Family Feud. 

Having said that, even I thought it was egregious for Jericho to beat Sammy. How does one man spend all year losing draw the line at his understudy? Guevara suffered a concussion during this Jericho and Kenny vs Don Callis, and is out on paternity leave. Who knows when Jericho will do him right, perhaps never. 

Jericho and Kenny have been teaming, they beat the Young Bucks for their Title Contendership and are now facing Ricky Starks and Big Bill for the Tag Team Championship. Starks and Bill have been giving beatdowns to Kenny and Jericho to build for the match. They even had the worst, and I mean this with all my heart, the worst in ring promo battle I have ever seen. Awful jokes, no selling insults, and doubling down on lines that did not land with the crowd. The look on Kenny’s face screams that he is checked out. 

However, as of writing this, Kenny is now out on injury for an indefinite amount of time. Jericho is now lost in the wind and I imagine both Starks and Bill are relieved. 

Jericho has proven this past year to not be any benefit to anyone he works with. He finds out who is the most over and tries to get in on their overness despite it making sense. All of his programs seem slapped together, as if Tony allows him to plan out his angles without any pushing back. I imagine he pitches these to guys who may want to have the opportunity to work with someone with decades of experience, but they do not see through him as a clout vampire. The goal of Jericho is how can I keep myself on TV, he has DEMO GOD plastered on himself for crying out loud! 

His character is supposed to be an aging rockstar who desperately clinging on for dear life, but it does not help when that is just who he is in real life. With Kenny out, what is next for Jericho? Hopefully retirement. 

Ah crap how did this get here how do I delete pictures.

#chris jericho #aew #daniel garcia #the jas #jas #jericho appreciation society #kenny omega #ricky starks #adam cole #pro wrestling #all elite wrestling #wrasslin #Youtube

[my-white-canvas]

"Bloody Mary" (porcelain!AU)

Warning: fem!reader, this fic has implications on dark gore and blood baths because the reader is based on the figure "Mary the 1st" and "Elizabeth Bathory", so if you don't like the reader torturing and killing people then I suggest you go on

Dubbed an imposter, they ran for their life in such a delicate state and were excommunicated by civilization just for looking like their "dead" god.

"So what do you think I might do" she taunted at what was once an angry mob ready to shatter your head at any given moment.

A pool of blood scattered across the floor littered the guts and organs of those who dared to triumph over her remaining patients.

The fear and overwhelming stress she has gained throughout what felt like years of running away turned into unrivaled and bottomless anger and vengeance.

A smile hiding the corrupted ideals of their forsaken God lingers through their eyes, that is until their god had carried an order that was beyond what is called sane.

Small villages that participated in the hunt for the "imposter" were suddenly burned down by flaming arrows but their god who does not know how to wield a bow properly wouldn't do that.

"You're right, I didn't know, so the little birdies helped me"

Birdies? Did their god call upon a Phoenix just for something so small? Or could it be that they... used birds as a messenger of flaming rain.

With the faces of the "loyal acolytes" drained of any hope that their god would forgive them, as deranged and insane they were they still thought the god they so hoped to be a blessing, but after their foolishness, it would be the beginning of the end.

And it didn't get any better for them. In fact, it only got worse.

They started to torture those who dared to whisper rumors criticizing the creator's motives and those who were caught, well even uttering their name might get them detained.

The General of the shogun's army was hiding from Her Grace's eyes and found herself in the powder room under a vanity, and there she saw things that made her want to gouge her own eyes out, a tub filled with blood with its stench filling up the room and after some time of sinking in what she saw a leg emerged from the wine-colored ichor, and then another, and then fingers, arms, and finally the head. The head of the creator whose hair faded into the red ichor.

Her eyes opened to look at the ceiling while making herself comfortable in her pool. The general watched in horror knowing those who were taken away were used as this but all she could do was be a witness to this.

"Hiding there won't save you" her voice singing in the general's head, she looked at the figure in the tub once more but she disappeared appearing beside her. She stumbled to her side away from the deity in fear knowing her life could end here, no, it will end here, with that god's anger she is sure to die.

The god leans close to the general and whispers in her ear "look at me, and tell me you're sorry, and I will let you go" the God's voice sugarcoats her intent but even so survival was just in her reach. She looks into the eyes of her god, her once teary and human eyes were nowhere to be seen, only the eyes of an insane bloody monster.

#sagau brainrot #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin au #isekai genshin au #Tw gore

[solmints-messyocdiary]

Tw: Animal death, suicide mention, blood, gore, torture mention, violent ideas

[Mismatched excerpts ripped off from Finley's Journal. The dates have been scribbled away with a black pen.]

It feels weird writing on a journal. Like something a teenager might do instead of a grown ass man who works from 9 to 5.

But I needed to destress and let it out on some pages after talking with my mother on the phone. I hate hearing her shrill voice on the other side of the receiver. The only thing she can do is complain and complain and complain about the same thing over and over again. I don't want to see that man either... I hate him more than her.

I can't handle her and to think I have to go and visit them on Thanksgiving and Christmas I feel like I am going to lose my damn head.

At least I can let things out and still practice my writing if needed, so that's a plus. I haven't had much time to update my book, and that's making me a bit sad. Hopefully, I'll be able to write a bit.

Might treat myself and go the diner to get some choco pancakes and a milkshake. Those will surely cheer me up.

Really want pancakes and milkshakes...

-

The longer I stay on this damn job, the more I feel like I am going to lose myself. I've been spacing out every 5 minutes whenever someone talks to me. It's hard. (Hehe)

I had to stay 2 more hours overtime, no pay for my hard work the 3rd time this week. I had to wake up earlier, too. I arrived around 8 instead of 9 because the computers were acting up at my workplace and needed me, the IT guy, to fix them.

Not to mention, the printer too... If I have to fistfight the printer again, or hear any of my coworkers complain, particularly Brandon, I am going to strangle them. I am really going to snap!!!

I wish their heads would just explode into a bloody mess. Just Carrie them off with my mind powers whenever I feel annoyed of them. They surely deserve that, particularly Brandon and my boss. Fuck those two. The world would be better if they didn't exists. We don't need red flags walking around the office... only me! Haha!

-

I promised myself to do it again, but alas, old habits die hard as the saying goes.

Went to the beach for a dip and found a baby bird on the sand. Ants surrounding its small body and biting pieces away to bring it to their lair. Lucky for me, I always have my camera with me. Never the one to miss a chance.

I guess I should be sad but that's how nature is.

Cruel.

I wonder how others would react if they saw my ant-bitten corpse...

-

Finished rewatching Scream 2 and...

Damn... Why is Mickey kinda...?

Like... you know? If I was a girl I'd be into him and have his poster hanging over my bedroom wall haha.

Still angry at Scream 2 for killing Randy, tho. He was my favorite.

Rented Carrie, Slaughter High, Graduation, Prom Night, for tonight. Felt a bit nostalgic for some reason. Getting shoved in a locker every tuesday really does something to a guy. Going to have a nice movie night with myself while I think of my high school times.

Totally good for my mental stability, yup!

-

I wonder how my old high school friends have been doing...

Do they remember me with disdain? Are they happy with their life? More successful? Managed to marry a nice gal or guy and have many kids together? A stable job and nice suburban house?

...

Fuck them.

-

Death still scares me.

I thought that if I forced myself to witness the worst of the worst. Every torture imaginable, researching hours and hours and hours of how a body decays, how long does it take for it to rot, shrink, turn into dust.

Live footages of people getting decapitated, stabbed, run over, split in half, drowned, squashed to death, gutted, burned alive, choked, flayed.

I'd grow out of it.

It's not that hard to look for stuff like that as long as you know where to find it and you're patient.

Will I ever be able to look at their loved ones in their eyes. Admit that I saw the last moments of their brother, mother, a cousin? The light leaving their eyes?

I thought I've become numb enough to just stare attentively, not blinking for a second.

People I know will die one day. Complete strangers, lives of theirs I will never know, are dying as I write this.

And yet, I remain wide awake. Imagining how it'll feel for my body to reach nothingness. The maggots feasting on my insides, eating away little by little. Gourging themselves on the bile and flesh and pus from my organs till they become fat, squirmy little bugs. Eating, mating, dying, rinse and repeat over and over and over again.

My skin itches thinking of it. Like they have already managed to crawl deep inside.

Even a death as boring and not spectacular like an illness terrifies me.

-

How long do I have left? Have I wasted my life? Is it too late for me?

When will I die...

-

I miss my friends from high school... some of them I've forgotten their names...

I sometimes think about Chelsea. No, I am always thinking about her...

If I contact her... will she ever forgive me?

It's too late to cry over spilt milk.

-

Seems I've been thinking about death a lot lately.

I went to go see a movie to try and fend of the feelings of dread and paranoia that have been seeping in me.

Stale popcorn, overpriced and oversized. Check.

Watered down soda. Check.

Badly directed horror film? Check.

Annoying and talkative patrons? Double check.

The blood effects weren't as cool compared to others, but at least the lead was hot even if she couldn't act to save her life.

-

Why am I even trying?

-

I made a blog.

I post all the pictures I've taken from dead animals and roadkill.

-

I feel numb.

-

I haven't been feeling real as of late. I even dared touch one of the spilt out guts of a cat behind an alleyway. I wanted to feel something. See if I was still here. I pushed my fingers in, feeling the slimy and sticky organs. It burned and I janked my hand away.

It felt surreal.

I can't feel my hands or face at times. Like they weren't even there to begin with.

-

I think I might go to a therapist.

-

I want to die...

#oc: finley madigan #final boy: finley madigan #my writing #my oc #final boy #wip #tw animal death #tw torture mention #tw gore #oc lore #angst

[curvingsunsets]

A Kiss To Remember

A/N: you guys remember when I used to write? Me too. Here’s a Tom!Peter x Reader I started days after NWH came out and only just finished. (i’m. so sorry.) I’m a sucker for silly tropes and a firm believer that a silly kiss will solve everything. Also, I am trying my best to get back into writing! Please be patient with me!

Summary: After the events of NWH, you’ve moved on with your life, forgetting entirely about your boyfriend. Peter, on the other hand, has never let you leave his mind. After a nasty fight, he decides the only place he can go to is you.

Warnings: Blood mentions and cleaning wounds.

The weather wasn’t exactly the friendliest that night. The wind was howling and even with the coziest blanket you could find, the air still somehow nipped at your skin. It was probably the shitty window seal the builders left years ago when the dorms were built. But, you were too cold to even think about complaining, just turning the small space heater closer to you.

You tried to bury yourself deeper into the warmth of your sweater while still trying to focus on the homework that taunted you.

Peter didn’t know where to go. The dark void he’d just faced was something he’d never experienced before, especially with such little technology on his side, something he knew he had to start getting used to.

As he swung through the city, he thought of what he should do. He couldn’t go home since the wounds on his back would leave him restless and angry. The only other spot he could think of was you. So that’s where he went. He made his way to the MIT campus and landed on the fire escape of what he hoped was your dorm, if he remembered correctly.

A thud on the fire escape pulled you away from the countless mathematical equations running through your mind. You weren’t willing to inspect the cause of the sound, probably a bird anyways, you’d assumed. It wasn’t until you heard a muffled groan through the glass that you were lured out of bed.

Opening the thin curtains, you found none other than the infamous Spider-Man huddled over in what looked like incredible pain. You gasp lightly and unlock the window, sliding it open, being slapped with a sharp gust of wind. Something in your gut told you that you had to help him. So, you held out a gentle hand. “Come inside,” you say kindly,” it is way too cold for you to be lounging out on my fire escape.”

He looked at you for a moment, recalling everything that happened before Stephen cast that spell. His chest stung in an emotional pain, rather than the physical. Your concerned face almost calmed him. He remembered the days where he’d come into school and you’d notice a small wound on his forehead and make him stay still as you cleaned it.

He shakes himself out of the daydream and laughs softly, the first thing you heard come out of him other than guttural pain. He takes your hand and slips into the room, immediately sighing in relief at the change in temperature. “Thank you,” he says through chattering teeth, desperately trying to warm himself up.

You lead him to sit down at your desk, immediately draping the abandoned blanket over his shoulders. You open one of the drawers of the desk and pull out a small first-aid kit your mom packed you “Just in case!” You lean closer to the wound on his stomach, figuring out what way you should approach the situation.

“Wh-what what are you doin’?” you hear the masked hero ask.

“What, you think I’m just gonna let you in and not patch you up?” you laugh slightly and begin wiping up as much blood as your small towel would allow. You look up at his suit itself, noticing the difference in hue and emblem than you remembered. “New suit?” you ask.

He looks down momentarily and stutters out, “Y-yeah…wanted to try it out.”

“Have all of your suits been this thin?” your words kind of spill out before you can really think them over. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t really be asking that.”

“No no no! It’s alright, I swear.” Even through his mask, you could somehow tell that he was being genuine. “Something happened a few weeks ago, I sort of…lost my old suits.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say kindly, beginning to poorly sew up the laceration on his stomach. “Now, I’m no medic, so this might not be your best fix,” you explain, paying close attention to your task.

He watched as your tongue poked out from your soft lips as you fixed him up. He knew he couldn’t say anything, but it reminded him of the time he’d tore a hole in his shirt in Italy and you’d offered to patch it up for him.

The two of you fell silent, him from pain and you from not knowing how to start a conversation with a literal superhero. Nothing was said until you finished patching up his stomach. He looked down at your work and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Even through the mask, you could see something in his eye that was almost studying you. The way the silence filled the air left him room to ponder.

“What?” you ask quietly through a breath, finally realizing the very little distance between the two of you. “Oh.” You can feel your face heat up before you pull yourself back and make distance between you and the superhero.

He looks around your room, probably trying to find some sort of conversation starter. He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and notices a small teddy bear on your desk adorned in an MIT shirt. “MIT, huh? Okay, smartypants,” he quips, a small and somewhat familiar laugh falls out of his mouth.

You shake your head and smile at him, “It’s not that impressive.” You take another look and notice a pool of blood on his forehead. “You’re bleeding,” you say and place a gentle hand near the wound…just like that day in highschool. “I don’t know if I can get into the mask to fix this one..” you explain.

He hesitated for a moment. He wanted you to know, He wanted you to be able to remember everything and the regret was burning in his chest.

“Y/N..” he lets out softly, immediately grabbing all of your attention.

You’re quiet for a moment, looking over him for probably the 50th time that night. Memories in your mind playing over, just slightly blurred it seems. “I know you,” you begin, “more than I think I do.” You reach for the edge of his mask, hesitating slightly.

He doesn’t stop you, almost sighing in relief when you pull the fabric off of his face. He looks up at your eyes for some sort of sign that you know who he is.

You say nothing, just continue studying him as if he were the rarest crystal in the universe. Something pulls you to him, making you cup his chin slightly. You knew who he was, you’d both shared Dr. Osbourne’s lectures in the main hall from time to time. But something made you think you knew him in a more…personal sense.

Peter’s mind is racing. He noticed a glimmer in your eye for a moment before he reached to hold your hands. “What’re you thinkin’?”

There's something nagging at the back of your mind. Endless moments frozen with a blurry haze begging to be released. Silent moments in the middle of the night while studying for tests, the quiet buzz of the space heater being the only noise. A failed attempt at a pottery class, gentle hands guiding yours over the wet clay.

Your body moves faster than your mind as you gently cup his face, leaning in closer.

He gives you a silent nod before you break the distance and place a soft kiss against his lips. You feel him let out a held breath and his hands find home in your hair.

Every memory, every moment begins flooding back into your mind. The magic that withheld them fizzling away as the two of you kiss. From the first day of fifth grade when he so graciously got his juicy fruit bubble gum stuck to the new sweater your grandmother knit you, to the night after the homecoming dance where you so graciously discovered his other identity. The most recent one just so happened to take place at the statue of liberty, the sky looked as if it were tearing apart at the seams.

And that's where the memories stopped. You don’t know how, but you ended up here, barely knowing the boy you were in love with for a majority of your life.

He didn't give you any more time to think before he pulled away from the kiss.

“Peter, I-” you begin, but the boy cut you off.

“You know me?” he asks, his eyes nearly bursting out of his head.

You nod, a sigh of relief escaping your mouth as your hands found his shoulders. “My Peter.” You note the relieved smile on his face. “But…how?” your eyebrows knit together. “How could I have forgotten?”

He lets out a playful scoff, “I may or may not have asked Doctor Strange to make the entire universe forget about Peter Parker…” his words trail off as the sentence finishes. He looks up at your eyes, scanning them for any anger or hurt, but all he could see was relief.

You shake your head almost in disbelief. “You’re lucky I love you, Pete.”

He runs his hands down your arms, taking yours in his own. “And I love you, too,” he’s kissing your knuckles, exhaustion starting to eat at him.

“Stay with me?” you ask quietly. “We have a bit to catch up on, anyways.” After his sleepy nod of approval, you peel away from him to grab a change of clothes. You toss them his way and get situated on your bed

Once he’s changed and comfortable, he joins you, resting his head in your lap. It’s something he always used to do and it brings him an overdue feeling of safety. Your hand finds comfort in the messy knots at the top of his head. Before you can say a word, his breathing comes to a slow, a soft snore leaving his parted lips. You smile down at him and find your own comfort, drifting off soon after.

The weather wasn’t exactly the friendliest that night. The wind was howling and even with the coziest blanket you could find, the air still somehow nipped at your skin. It was probably the shitty window seal the builders left years ago when the dorms were built. But, you were too cold to even think about complaining, just turning the small space heater closer to you.

You tried to bury yourself deeper into the warmth of your sweater while still trying to focus on the homework that taunted you.

Peter didn’t know where to go. The dark void he’d just faced was something he’d never experienced before, especially with such little technology on his side, something he knew he had to start getting used to.

As he swung through the city, he thought of what he should do. He couldn’t go home since the wounds on his back would leave him restless and angry. The only other spot he could think of was you. So that’s where he went. He made his way to the MIT campus and landed on the fire escape of what he hoped was your dorm, if he remembered correctly.

A thud on the fire escape pulled you away from the countless mathematical equations running through your mind. You weren’t willing to inspect the cause of the sound, probably a bird anyways, you’d assumed. It wasn’t until you heard a muffled groan through the glass that you were lured out of bed.

Opening the thin curtains, you found none other than the infamous Spider-Man huddled over in what looked like incredible pain. You gasp lightly and unlock the window, sliding it open, being slapped with a sharp gust of wind. Something in your gut told you that you had to help him. So, you held out a gentle hand. “Come inside,” you say kindly,” it is way too cold for you to be lounging out on my fire escape.”

He looked at you for a moment, recalling everything that happened before Stephen cast that spell. His chest stung in an emotional pain, rather than the physical. Your concerned face almost calmed him. He remembered the days where he’d come into school and you’d notice a small wound on his forehead and make him stay still as you cleaned it.

He shakes himself out of the daydream and laughs softly, the first thing you heard come out of him other than guttural pain. He takes your hand and slips into the room, immediately sighing in relief at the change in temperature. “Thank you,” he says through chattering teeth, desperately trying to warm himself up.

You lead him to sit down at your desk, immediately draping the abandoned blanket over his shoulders. You open one of the drawers of the desk and pull out a small first-aid kit your mom packed you “Just in case!” You lean closer to the wound on his stomach, figuring out what way you should approach the situation.

“Wh-what what are you doin’?” you hear the masked hero ask.

“What, you think I’m just gonna let you in and not patch you up?” you laugh slightly and begin wiping up as much blood as your small towel would allow. You look up at his suit itself, noticing the difference in hue and emblem than you remembered. “New suit?” you ask.

He looks down momentarily and stutters out, “Y-yeah…wanted to try it out.”

“Have all of your suits been this thin?” your words kind of spill out before you can really think them over. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t really be asking that.”

“No no no! It’s alright, I swear.” Even through his mask, you could somehow tell that he was being genuine. “Something happened a few weeks ago, I sort of…lost my old suits.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say kindly, beginning to poorly sew up the laceration on his stomach. “Now, I’m no medic, so this might not be your best fix,” you explain, paying close attention to your task.

He watched as your tongue poked out from your soft lips as you fixed him up. He knew he couldn’t say anything, but it reminded him of the time he’d tore a hole in his shirt in Italy and you’d offered to patch it up for him.

The two of you fell silent, him from pain and you from not knowing how to start a conversation with a literal superhero. Nothing was said until you finished patching up his stomach. He looked down at your work and nodded.

“Thank you,” he said softly. Even through the mask, you could see something in his eye that was almost studying you. The way the silence filled the air left him room to ponder.

“What?” you ask quietly through a breath, finally realizing the very little distance between the two of you. “Oh.” You can feel your face heat up before you pull yourself back and make distance between you and the superhero.

He looks around your room, probably trying to find some sort of conversation starter. He pulls the blanket tighter around his shoulders and notices a small teddy bear on your desk adorned in an MIT shirt. “MIT, huh? Okay, smartypants,” he quips, a small and somewhat familiar laugh falls out of his mouth.

You shake your head and smile at him, “It’s not that impressive.” You take another look and notice a pool of blood on his forehead. “You’re bleeding,” you say and place a gentle hand near the wound…just like that day in highschool. “I don’t know if I can get into the mask to fix this one..” you explain.

He hesitated for a moment. He wanted you to know, He wanted you to be able to remember everything and the regret was burning in his chest.

“Y/N..” he lets out softly, immediately grabbing all of your attention.

You’re quiet for a moment, looking over him for probably the 50th time that night. Memories in your mind playing over, just slightly blurred it seems. “I know you,” you begin, “more than I think I do.” You reach for the edge of his mask, hesitating slightly.

He doesn’t stop you, almost sighing in relief when you pull the fabric off of his face. He looks up at your eyes for some sort of sign that you know who he is.

You say nothing, just continue studying him as if he were the rarest crystal in the universe. Something pulls you to him, making you cup his chin slightly. You knew who he was, you’d both shared Dr. Osbourne’s lectures in the main hall from time to time. But something made you think you knew him in a more…personal sense.

Peter’s mind is racing. He noticed a glimmer in your eye for a moment before he reached to hold your hands. “What’re you thinkin’?”

There's something nagging at the back of your mind. Endless moments frozen with a blurry haze begging to be released. Silent moments in the middle of the night while studying for tests, the quiet buzz of the space heater being the only noise. A failed attempt at a pottery class, gentle hands guiding yours over the wet clay.

Your body moves faster than your mind as you gently cup his face, leaning in closer.

He gives you a silent nod before you break the distance and place a soft kiss against his lips. You feel him let out a held breath and his hands find home in your hair.

Every memory, every moment begins flooding back into your mind. The magic that withheld them fizzling away as the two of you kiss. From the first day of fifth grade when he so graciously got his juicy fruit bubble gum stuck to the new sweater your grandmother knit you, to the night after the homecoming dance where you so graciously discovered his other identity. The most recent one just so happened to take place at the statue of liberty, the sky looked as if it were tearing apart at the seams.

And that's where the memories stopped. You don’t know how, but you ended up here, barely knowing the boy you were in love with for a majority of your life.

He didn't give you any more time to think before he pulled away from the kiss.

“Peter, I-” you begin, but the boy cut you off.

“You know me?” he asks, his eyes nearly bursting out of his head.

You nod, a sigh of relief escaping your mouth as your hands found his shoulders. “My Peter.” You note the relieved smile on his face. “But…how?” your eyebrows knit together. “How could I have forgotten?”

He lets out a playful scoff, “I may or may not have asked Doctor Strange to make the entire universe forget about Peter Parker…” his words trail off as the sentence finishes. He looks up at your eyes, scanning them for any anger or hurt, but all he could see was relief.

You shake your head almost in disbelief. “You’re lucky I love you, Pete.”

He runs his hands down your arms, taking yours in his own. “And I love you, too,” he’s kissing your knuckles, exhaustion starting to eat at him.

“Stay with me?” you ask quietly. “We have a bit to catch up on, anyways.” After his sleepy nod of approval, you peel away from him to grab a change of clothes. You toss them his way and get situated on your bed

Once he’s changed and comfortable, he joins you, resting his head in your lap. It’s something he always used to do and it brings him an overdue feeling of safety. Your hand finds comfort in the messy knots at the top of his head. Before you can say a word, his breathing comes to a slow, a soft snore leaving his parted lips. You smile down at him and find your own comfort, drifting off soon after.

#Peter Parker x Reader #tom!peter x reader #peter parker imagine

[sauronxgaladriel]

Sauron x Galadriel Smut Fic Recs

Saurondriel/Haladriel fics with amaaaazing smut! Some are one-shots others are not. Though honestly, I haven’t read any fics for this pairing with smut that isn’t perfection.

A Stressed Tiding by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks

Summary: 

Galadriel offers him an accord. 

One night and one day.

shining like a fiery beacon by The_Duchess_of_Fiction

Summary:

Set after the Finale.Galadriel has left Eregion, has ran as far from the Southlands as the map allows.It was fitting that she wanders to where her search for her enemy (her almost) had last ended, on the opposite end of this Middle Earth in the northern wasteland.She doesn’t remain alone in her exile for long.

Mortal Laws by Helholden

Summary: 

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, recalling all the scents in the air at once. Separating them in his head was easy, from the daffodils to the Oak trees to the dwindling roses and the crisp, clean splash of fresh water trickling over smooth river rocks that held a brief tinge of salt upon their surface. Other beings took these things for granted for they could barely sense them at times, but he knew their scent with his eyes open or closed, and he could detect their direction in turn.

Even as he held her wrist, keeping the blade from striking him, he could pause long enough to absorb them before using them to his advantage, to slip into her head like a serpent and twist her thought to his own world. As long as he touched her, he could change her perception—and into a dream they fell, a dream much like her childhood in Valinor. For there was no one Galadriel trusted more than her brother, Finrod, and he knew he had to use that against her if he was ever to win over her influence. With calm perception, he took the form of her brother, white-cloaked and humble, one she would not question if she saw with her own eyes.

Takes places during Episode 8: Alloyed. Canon divergence.

A Moment of Wanting by Draconic_Grace

Summary: 

One-shot following episode 1x05.

"Come with me," he whispered, "and share with me a moment. A moment of quiet, if you will. Quiet your mind for the dawn that soon rises. Stay with me?"

The First Goodbye by SomeBird

Summary:

Set immediately after Episode 8, Galadriel finds that her foe hasn't left. This is a response to the prompts for an angry reunion that I've received from the lovely readers of my last fic.

Buried in Bone by Invisible_Hand

Summary:

Truly taking on a form was, in no small part, to lose himself in that vessel’s way of perceiving and thinking and feeling: blood and gut and brain were wily and pernicious masters. When he took the form of a bird, he longed for the wind beneath his wings. When he was a mighty wolf, he savored the blood of Elves on his lolling tongue.

How humbling it was to force every bit of his vast and ancient being down, down, until it was trapped inside the bones of a vulnerable human frame, and then expect it to stay there, confined. As if he hadn't already been humbled enough.

When he dove into the water after the Elf, he asked himself why, even as he slipped beneath the surface, as his lungs burned from lack of air, as he risked that last, paltry link to the corporal world for her.

#saurondriel #haladriel #sauron x galadriel #halbrand x galadriel

[comatosebunny09]

untitled.

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Mild Violence, Language, Word Vomit, Angst

Music Inspo: Face My Fears - Utada Hikaru

Started off as a potential love confession and a prelude to this. Went in the opposite direction. Sorry not sorry. Thank you for reading!

Blood.

So much of it speckles the pure, powdery snow beneath your feet. Intermingling with your own, viscous crimson coasting down your arm. You grip your katana with bone-white knuckles, afraid it might slip from your grasp. Grit your teeth with your eyes screwed shut, tensing as she rains another slew of attacks on your face.

“You little bitch!” the old woman spits, her cry so shrill, the birds overhead scatter. She’s a stark contrast to the gentle person she was hours prior. Bore kind eyes with a genuine smile. Giving hands that offered you solace and a place to lay your head. Those very hands are now balled into fists, thumping against your chest. Shoving, scratching, slapping. “We trusted you, and you betrayed us!” The malice of her voice sends your heart plummeting to your feet.

Your cheek stings in the wake of another slap, throbbing an angry scarlet. You could easily overpower her. She’s nearly thrice your age, half your height. Old, feeble, weak. You were merely protecting her. Upholding your duty. You had to; you were trained to.

You peer over her shoulder, her tear-stricken face fading in and out of focus. A Gaussian blur of emotions. You watch as a purl of inky smoke builds behind her. Hisses and pops, stretching toward the sky with its pungent odor. Releases a sigh of a life petering out. A demon. Her husband. Or what once was. It tried to kill her; wanted to eat her. You were merely…

You were…

You—

“Get out of here!” she shrieks, slicing through the fog of your conscience. You flinch. The blood in your veins crystallizes to ice as she bunches your haori in her hands and pushes. You don’t budge. Rooted to this spot, sight filmy with the threat of your own tears. “Leave this place, you coward!” She’s crying. You’re crying. You did this.

You did—

The snow crunches. The old woman’s on her knees now. Her shoulders tremble, choked sobs leaving her throat. “How could you?” she weeps, clawing at the ice. “How could…” A pained, bloodcurdling scream follows, the sound like that of a wounded animal awaiting its slaughter. Her wail holds your heart in an agonizing vice, your gut fastening itself in knots.

You’re not really thinking. Body moves of its own volition. Running. Phasing in and out of sight, your feet and skill carry you through the forest. Farther and farther away from that once warm cabin. The arctic wind kissing your tear-stained cheeks. You don’t have a destination in mind; just let your instincts take you. Heart guiding you, lungs aflame.

When familiar blue rooftops mar your vision, you finally come to your senses. Skid to a stop at the entrance, the snow a billowing mist around. He is there in the clearing, seated on his engawa. Of course he is. Sunshine amid the rain. A golden wildflower growing through the cracks of asphalt. A campfire kindled on the coldest day. You can’t breathe. No matter how hard you try, how much air you greedily suck in, you just can’t—

A call of your name. Worried brows, concern etched in his features. Kyojuro drops his book, cautiously taking steps toward you before breaking into a sprint. Extends a hand, your name at the curl of his tongue again. He moves closer. Uncomfortably close. Overwhelming so. You can’t remember how to breathe. He’s so warm, and his earthy scent is crowding your senses.

He’s holding you. Shaking you, strong hands burning through your haori. You’re hysterical. Can’t recall how to talk. Your voice is lodged in your throat, your eyes darting about with paranoia coloring your veins. He’s calling your name, his voice sounding from all angles.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, gently forcing you back, optics scanning over you with alarm. You hate yourself for how pained he sounds. Don't deserve such kindness. “Are you alright?” And then the calluses of his battle-worn hands tenderly press into your enflamed cheeks, bending your head back. Amber eyes melding to flames in your bleary vision. You don’t know when you’ve started crying again. Just feel a wail rolling from your throat like a tumultuous wave. Feel your body quake with unbridled emotion. “What’s wrong?” he demands, bending until you’re at eye level, his tone as anguished as your heart.

You don’t know. You really—

He draws you into his embrace as if it’s second nature. Holds you firmly to him, his heart thundering beneath your cheek. Fingers, soothing and compassionate, combing through your unkempt hair. Gentle coos and shushes vibrate your ears, and he kneads the space between your shoulder blades as you tremble with a new rush of despair.

Your hands are so small, balled up in his hakama. You feel pitiful. Wailing, blubbering, sniveling. He's shushing you. Chanting "I've got you" into your tresses like a mantra. Holding you to him, refusing to let you crumble. Somewhere between the sympathy in his tenure, the heat of his form, and the adrenaline draining from your limbs, your vision's fading. Transitioning to black. Your name yelled in the distance, your body slackening. The sensation of you being lifted into powerful arms until...

Nothing.

#rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #my works #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny reader insert #rengoku angst #kyojuro angst #tw: blood #tw: angst #tw: language #tw: violence

[the-white-void]

“BLOODY MARY” (PORCELAIN!AU)

Warning: fem!reader, this fic has implications on dark gore and blood baths because the reader is based on the figure “Mary the 1st” and “Elizabeth Bathory”, so if you don’t like the reader torturing and killing people then I suggest you go on

Dubbed an imposter, they ran for their life in such a delicate state and were excommunicated by civilization just for looking like their “dead” god.

“So what do you think I might do” she taunted at what was once an angry mob ready to shatter your head at any given moment.

A pool of blood scattered across the floor littered the guts and organs of those who dared to triumph over her remaining patients.

The fear and overwhelming stress she has gained throughout what felt like years of running away turned into unrivaled and bottomless anger and vengeance.

A smile hiding the corrupted ideals of their forsaken God lingers through their eyes, that is until their god had carried an order that was beyond what is called sane.

Small villages that participated in the hunt for the “imposter” were suddenly burned down by flaming arrows but their god who does not know how to wield a bow properly wouldn’t do that.

“You’re right, I didn’t know, so the little birdies helped me”

Birdies? Did their god call upon a Phoenix just for something so small? Or could it be that they… used birds as a messenger of flaming rain.

With the faces of the “loyal acolytes” drained of any hope that their god would forgive them, as deranged and insane they were they still thought the god they so hoped to be a blessing, but after their foolishness, it would be the beginning of the end.

And it didn’t get any better for them. In fact, it only got worse.

They started to torture those who dared to whisper rumors criticizing the creator’s motives and those who were caught, well even uttering their name might get them detained.

The General of the shogun’s army was hiding from Her Grace’s eyes and found herself in the powder room under a vanity, and there she saw things that made her want to gouge her own eyes out, a tub filled with blood with its stench filling up the room and after some time of sinking in what she saw a leg emerged from the wine-colored ichor, and then another, and then fingers, arms, and finally the head. The head of the creator whose hair faded into the red ichor.

Her eyes opened to look at the ceiling while making herself comfortable in her pool. The general watched in horror knowing those who were taken away were used as this but all she could do was be a witness to this.

“Hiding there won’t save you” her voice singing in the general’s head, she looked at the figure in the tub once more but she disappeared appearing beside her. She stumbled to her side away from the deity in fear knowing her life could end here, no, it will end here, with that god’s anger she is sure to die.

The god leans close to the general and whispers in her ear “look at me, and tell me you’re sorry, and I will let you go” the God’s voice sugarcoats her intent but even so survival was just in her reach. She looks into the eyes of her god, her once teary and human eyes were nowhere to be seen, only the eyes of an insane bloody monster.

#sagau brainrot #sagau #sagau isekai #sagau idea #genshin sagau #tw gore #isekai genshin au #genshin au #horror reader