#got maybe 1/4 of the things done? and have only 5 hours left to get a move on and finish the rest

[thebirdandhersong]

feel like I'm vibrating physically and also on the inside..... today is the Absolute Worst because there is a bajillion things due by late afternoon and I have none (zero) of the energy and stamina to do any of it...... but I need to get through it so that I can make it to the weekend without collapsing, spontaneously combusting, or throwing up (came close to it yesterday and would really like to not do so today)

#today is the day All the Things need to get done. for someone who likes having a hard deadline i am having a terrible terrible time #got maybe 1/4 of the things done? and have only 5 hours left to get a move on and finish the rest #and after work there's House Cleaning after house cleaning there's Socialization after socialization there's limited sleep #and then onto the next day of More Cleaning #okay will stop complaining now and will head off to do thing number 5 but YOWZA man i'd like to go about my day #without every nerve in my body jangling and making a ruckus #while the brain fog is getting thicker by the minute #slings and arrows of outrageous fortune in year 21

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 7)

Vol 1 Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 (Not Required) Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader

When Nanami goes on a work trip, his cute little housewife can’t help but miss him…

Word Count: 1.8k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, lightly suggestive, wearing Nanami's shirt...

A/n: I was feeling like writing something cute... hope you enjoy!

“Goodbye, my darling, stay safe,” were the last words you muttered to your husband, Nanami, before giving him a kiss as he left the house. Even to him, going on a trip without you was unfathomable, though it had only been three months since your marriage.

It was a work trip for three days, more or less to entertain the heads of a business Nanami’s company was hoping to partner with. It was not his intention to get chosen, there were plenty of other employees, but his standout reputation as a professional, down to business senior manager made him an easy candidate. 

Nanami wiped his forehead with the cloth you had packed with his lunch, something that he appreciated after hearing the news. His boss’s booming enthusiasm had him somewhat hesitant to downright decline the offer, especially the part about him being on the only one who could do the job. 

Maybe he was starting to like doing the bare minimum to keep on top of his work. Being a slacker wasn’t something to be proud of, but it sure was easier than caring in his case. His demeanor was far more dignified than the younger employees, and it’s not like he didn’t produce good results for the company. But the one thing he didn’t want, was for it to take away from his time with you, and any more attention on him from the higher-ups would do just that.

Instead, it was you who inspired him to go. Something about being able to plan a surprise for him for when he got back, the encouragement for him to do something that would hopefully make him get to know his coworkers better.

While you were happy to know your husband was doing well at work, you still got that sinking feeling when he brought the topic up. “Of course you should go, we don’t have anything planned this week and it isn’t that far away,” you fake smiled your way through the conversation, trying to come up with a reason. It would be the first time you were alone in the house for that long without him, you hadn’t gone on a trip since your honeymoon together. 

“Since this one is short, it could help you make up your mind on doing other ones…” you mumbled, carefully stacking the plates on top of each other and carrying them to the kitchen. “I know, but I still don’t want to leave you alone,” Nanami groaned, “Besides, I would rather not spend more time working than I have to.” You sat back down at the table. 

“Don’t you also get a few days off afterwords? We could do something together. I have been meaning to get some things done anyways…” you muttered, giving him a look. “Some things… do indulge me, my love,” he smirked back at you. “A surprise,” you shook your head as he laughed. “Fine, I’ll contact my department,” he stood up, sighing in exhaustion. 

Nanami left for his three day long trip, though not without a yellow scarf carefully tied around his neck, and a neatly ironed jacket. The weather had said it would be windy where he was going. After loading up his bags in the car, he was being picked up by a coworker, the two of you said your final goodbyes, and then he was gone. 

That was in the early morning when it still felt like a normal day. You went about your morning and afternoon routine, you had still packed him a lunchbox to take with him. The sun was shining, and aside from the absent-minded glances at your wedding photo on the table next to the couch, it seemed the same. 

Inevitably, the evening came, and by the usual 5:35 Nanami still wasn’t home. Of course he wouldn’t be, he was hours away. You tried to entertain yourself, first eating a dinner consisting of leftovers, and then sitting down on the couch to do the final touches on the new suit jacket you were making for him.

It wasn’t your best work, as you were more used to sewing simple dresses, aprons, and occasionally mending things, so it was the first undertaking of a challenge like that. Getting your husband’s measurements in an inconspicuous manor was a struggle as well, leafing through his closet in hopes of finding a note from the tailors. 

A light gray suit jacket, something functional he might be able to wear to work if it was taken to an actual tailors and fixed, but after two months of work in your free time, you were quite proud of what you had created. It was something Nanami could hold onto as a gift from his lovely wife. 

The next day was the first without him there at all. As you washed the dishes, all you could think about was calling him, though you knew he would be in meetings all day and would call you when he had the chance. But finally that day passed and it became the third, and you were truly grateful he would be home in the morning. 

You dressed yourself in a light pink nightgown, it was Nanami’s favorite. The two nights before had been the worst sleep you’d gotten in a very long time, missing Nanami’s weight behind you while he wrapped his arms around your waist. You sighed, pulling it off and hanging it up again, instead opting for one of Nanami’s sleeping shirts, one that was just worn by him briefly before he left. He would be home soon afterall, it would be a waste to wear it just for yourself. 

You put your hair up, sinking into bed. It only reminded you of that conversation the two of you had right after your marriage, trying to decide where the two of you would sleep. However, cuddling always seemed to dictate your spot on the bed, so neither the left nor the right side felt correct to lay on after all those months. You sprawled yourself out in the middle laying on your side, pushing a few pillows next to your back and taking Nanami’s to your face, and coupled with the shirt, it smelled just like him. 

Just as you were about to fall asleep, the phone finally rang, and you hurriedly picked it up. “Hello? Kento?” you asked, waiting to hear his voice. “Y/n, I’m sorry I couldn’t call earlier,” he spoke, you could hear his heavy breaths through the speaker. “We were with the clients all day, I don’t think I’ll be doing this again  if I can avoid it,” he voice was scratchy and tired. “I missed you, Kento,” you tried to speak quietly yourself, focusing on the sound coming from him. “I miss you too, my love,” he smiled hearing your words, even if he couldn’t see your face. “They had us turn in our phones, for confidentiality reasons,” he explained. “Makes sense, you’ll be back tomorrow?” you turned to lay on your back, holding the phone to your ear. “Yes, probably around 10:30,” he let out a long sigh. “I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you smiled, knowing your husband and you were tired. “I’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, how about that?” he asked as you put the phone on speaker mode and set it on the nightstand.

He started talking about his plane trip, and the struggle the group had when trying to find the hotel, they barely made it to the first meeting with the business representatives. By the third time he asked if you were still awake, you were sound asleep, he could hear your soft breathing through the phone. “Goodnight, my love, I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, before hanging up. Smiling to himself in the hotel room, he finished packing up his things for the early flight out, including the picture of the two of you he brought with and sat on his desk. 

When he finally got home, it was Saturday. Your gift was already wrapped and set on the table in the living room, and the house was already clean from the day before. Of course with the combination of your tiredness, and being used to sleeping in late on the weekends, it  almost lead to your absence at the door when Nanami walked in.

You ran to the door, Nanami walking in promptly at 10:30, and assisted him with his bags as if nothing was unusual. His smile remained as he eyed you, having not seen his cute little housewife in three whole days. More specifically, though, was the way you stood there, wearing his shirt. It was long enough to be a short dress for you, loosely covering your body as you greeted him with a soft smile and quick apology. “I’m so glad you’re back, Kento,” you helped him with his things as he hung up his coat. Nanami smirked, moving his hand to your cheek as he leaned down. “What a perfect surprise, my love,” he motioned to your outfit. Your face flushed bright red as you avoided his eyes, about to speak, though that was shortly cut off with a kiss. “I’m sorry, I slept in on accident,” you started, “your gift is on the table, I’ll go change,” he stopped you from moving. 

“I quite like it, actually,” his hand moved down to intertwine with yours. “I’ve never seen you wear my shirts before,” he opened the box on the table, moving the paper from on top of the jacket. 

“It’s not perfect, but I tried to make it to your measurements,” you muttered shyly, as he held it in his hands. “To think you’ve been working on this all this time,” he put the jacket on over his usual button up. “It fits quite well,” you always loved how your husband looked in a suit, and it was no different wearing this. “Should I take it to the tailors?” you asked, as he stared at the embroidery on the inside of the jacket. “I think it’s perfect, thank you, my love,” he pulled you against his chest. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you smiled. “I seem to have a new favorite garment, it came just in time,” he remarked, loosening his tie and folding the jacket back up. “Since I have that time off, we should go somewhere and show this off,” Nanami grabbed your hand, starting to walk towards the bedroom. “Though, right now, I’d just like to spend time with you, my love.” 

“I’m curious, why the change in outfit?” he asked once you entered the room. “Because… I missed you,” you mumbled, “and it smells good, like you.” Nanami gave you a smirk, picking up his pillow from where it laid in the middle of the bed. “And my pillow too, hmm?” you covered your face with your hand, embarrassed. “Well if you like my scent so much, I can certainly do something about that,” he chuckled, pulling you into a hug.

#nanami x reader #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento #jjk nanami #kento nanami #kento #nanami

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 5

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6

wc: 3.6k

warnings: angst, little bit sad (if y’all can stick thru this ONE part 🫶), fluff sprinkled in some parts (as always, lmk if there’s anything i’ve missed)

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. AU where nothing bad ever happens at the pizzeria.

A/N: this is gonna be the “hard” chapter, but it’ll all be worth it for part 6, the official finale of the series 🥹 no worries tho, i still plan on expanding the story once it’s over!!!

——————————————————————————

You could barely focus in any of your classes today. Your mind was full of thoughts about one person and one person only: Mike. All of the things that happened in such a short amount of time were eating you alive. You couldn’t take any of it anymore. In a way, you wished Abby hadn’t told you about her secret. You didn’t want something as silly as a “crush” to get in the way of your goal of keeping Abby and Mike happy.

As you drove home from your classes, you didn’t know what to expect that evening. You knew he probably wanted to clear up whatever had happened the other evening. Maybe he just wanted to tell you he was sorry for not paying you again. But then why did he want you there an hour early? What on earth could he want to talk about for a whole hour with you?

You only ever had two serious conversations with him in the two months or so of knowing him, the one the first night shift of babysitting Abby and during your walk with him just a few days ago.

There was that voice, all the way at the back of your head, that was telling you something completely different. There was a voice that was saying this had to do with Abby’s secret. You attempted to quickly get it out of your head, your hands getting sweaty at the thought as you continued driving home. You hated to admit this was making you more nervous than it should’ve been.

The thought of him waiting at his door until you got home crept into your head once more. The way he saw how you looked back one last time like you’d done every time before. How often did he wait at the door like that? Did he genuinely care about you that much to wait?

When you got home you had an hour until you knew you’d have to be at Mike’s house. Of course today was one of those days where your professors just knew you were having an off day and assigned what felt like 10x more work than usual. You hesitantly took out all of your textbooks and notebooks in an attempt to knock out a few assignments before you left.

As you sat down, something hanging on the headboard of your bed caught your attention. The black hoodie Mike had lent you was there. You truly intended on giving it back to him yesterday since you’d accidentally wore it home the other night. Whether you forgot it by chance or on purpose you couldn’t even remember anymore.

It sat there like a painful reminder of not knowing what was to come later. He said it wasn’t anything bad, but maybe he just didn’t want to stress you out. What if he had to quit the night job, therefore leaving you jobless? You didn’t want to leave them hanging. You didn’t care if you were getting paid consistently or not. You just wanted to be there for them. That was all that mattered to you now.

You continued to sit there, looking at the hoodie, thoughts racing through your mind with no signs of stopping. The textbooks and notebooks all over your desk were never opened, you didn’t have the energy now at least. Not when your leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and stomach was twisted into knots. You kept telling yourself “It’s just your imagination, everything is fine. Everything will be okay.” It was already almost time for you to go, so you threw all the books back into your bag, grabbed the hoodie, and made your way over.

The feelings were mutual back at Mike’s house. Mike wasn’t sure why he felt so anxious about having to talk to you. It really wasn’t a big deal at all. He just wanted to clear up last night and, well, some other things too. He was just as scared of the unknown as you were. The kitchen smelled like pasta cooking as he tried his best to distract himself by making Abby’s dinner. Just incase the conversation went really bad and you didn’t want to stay. Not that he was anticipating that it would go badly.

He stirred the spaghetti as the water bubbled, focusing as best he could on everything but his thoughts.

“Mike why are you making dinner tonight?” Abby interrupted standing by the fridge.

“Thought I’d give Y/n a break for one night.” he said, still looking down at the pot of boiling water.

“She makes it so much better than you do though.” Abby started whining.

“Beggars can’t be choosers Abs.” he said with a sigh.

“What does that mean?” Abby said with a confused tone to her voice.

“Life’s not fair, that’s what it means. You either eat my pasta or nothing.”

He could practically hear the girl roll her eyes in response.

“Well, I’m not hungry right now.”

Now she’s just being a smart ass, Mike thought to himself.

“Good thing Y/n can warm it up for you later when I’m gone.”

“I don’t want to eat it later though. It’s gonna be gross later.” she crossed her arms now, she knew what she was doing.

“Well you’re either gonna eat it now, later, or never. This is what you’re getting for dinner.” Mike was getting more impatient with her sudden attitude.

“Your pasta is gross Mike I’m not eating it.”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore, don’t eat it.” Way to ruin this evening Abby.

“Why do you have to be so-“

“Abby, just stop! I’m not having this today. Go to your room.” he didn’t realize how much he rose his voice at her. Arguing wasn’t uncommon for them, but he rarely, if ever, rose his voice this much at her. He looked back at her, the young girls eyes were welling with small tears. This evening already wasn’t going as planned and Y/n hadn’t even arrived yet.

“I hate you Mike!” Abby shouted before running to her room, slamming the door shut.

Mike took a deep breath, putting a hand over his face. Why did he always have to mess everything up? He should’ve never asked Y/n to come over early. If he hadn’t asked, then this situation would’ve never happened. He should’ve just let the situation go. He looked back at the pot of spaghetti, the water still bubbling, finally deciding to shut off the stove.

He looked at the landline phone hanging on the wall beside the fridge. It was almost calling his name to pick it up, dial your number, and tell you not to come by anymore. He stepped forward reaching out a hand to pick up the phone. Just before he could start dialing the numbers he heard a door slowly and quietly open.

He looked at the clock on the stove, quickly realizing what time it was. There was no escaping the situation now, for either of you. He walked out of the kitchen, now in the dining room as he watched you shut the door and set down your backpack.

“Hey.” you said in almost a whisper, your usual smile on your face to hide the nervousness that still lurked deep down.

Just like that, time felt slower than ever before for Mike. Honestly, every time he saw you it began feeling more and more like that. It wasn’t like you tried to dress to impress or anything like that. The only times you had a remotely “nice” outfit on were the first few days of babysitting and extremely occasionally after that. Even then, it was nothing more than a pair of jeans and a somewhat nicer t-shirt or sweater.

Your hair was in a low messy ponytail, loose strands of hair falling out of the scrunchie. You wore a t-shirt with your college’s name plastered across the front and extremely baggy black sweatpants. This was a look that was all too familiar to Mike. The days you wore outfits like this were days that school was beating your ass. Those were the days he’d come home and find you still finishing up work at the dinning room table far too late in the night.

The way that an outfit so simple and, for lack of better terms, lazy, could make Mike feel this way felt like a crime to him. He was convinced that any other outfit imaginable would not compare to this. There was no way to explain this, but this just felt different to him.

Maybe it was because of your determination and drive for success. It was something he didn’t see in himself. Maybe he envied that you had that in you and he didn’t. He saw how hard school was. He saw that no matter how hard it got, you were still there on time every time. He wished so much he had that level dedication in him.

That’s when his eyes turned to your hand. It was holding the black hoodie he let you borrow when you stayed for s’mores. He had honestly forgotten he even gave you it, but now he was wondering why you’d brought it back. He really didn’t mind if you’d kept it. Now thinking about it, he wanted you to keep it.

“You didn’t have to make dinner Mike, you know I’ve got it.” your voice, still quiet making sure Abby wouldn’t hear your presence, broke the thoughts in Mikes head and brought him back to reality.

“Yeah, um, about that…” he began, sighing heavily.

“We need to talk.” you immediately noticed the tension that was now forming.

“Yeah.” he pulled a chair out of the dining table for you, and you both quietly sat down.

You both sat in silence for a minute or so. You waited for him to start talking and you were going to give him as long as he needed to gather his thoughts. You focused on the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table.

“I’m sorry.” he finally spoke up.

“Why are you sor-“

“Let me explain before you try telling me I have nothing to be sorry about.” he interrupted, his volume significantly louder than before.

You didn’t say anything back, you were ready to let him say whatever he needed to say because clearly he needed it.

“It’s just-“ he paused again, putting his face into his hands. He took a deep breath attempting to gather his thoughts and emotions before he spoke again. He wasn’t going to let them ruin this conversation.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/n.” you finally looked up. Those incredible brown eyes met yours. They almost appeared to have tears forming in them.

“You do so much for us Y/n. You’re here on time every day, no matter how much you had going on during the day. You’re always willing to do literally anything with Abby. All of the dumb things I’ve said no to her about, you’ve said yes. You’re the mother figure she never had. She doesn’t act the same way around me as she does with you. She deserves this so much more than I do. She needs you, Y/n. I don’t deserve any of this. I can rarely pay you on time. I’m putting you in this horrendous situation where you go to class every day, then you come home for 2 hours max and babysit for the entire night. You’re working literally 2 jobs and you didn’t even want this. I accidentally threw you into it, you should’ve just not taken it. It’s not fair. And yesterday when I stormed out without explaining anything, that wasn’t fair either.”

“Mike-“

“You deserve more Y/n. You deserve the world. You have so much motivation and determination in you it’s actually insane. You’re always smiling, always trying to be kind and helpful. You put others before yourself. I just feel that someone like me, the complete opposite of you, doesn’t deserve to have you in my life. I have not even an ounce of dedication or care inside of me. You don’t deserve to have to put up with all my crap. You just don’t Y/n.” he stopped, still looking you in the eyes.

You really wanted to break down and sob. How could he think he’s worth nothing? How does he not see all the effort and care he puts into taking care of Abby? He’s trying a whole lot harder than other people who have half the worries in life that he has.

“How long have you felt this way?” you said quietly, you knew if you spoke any louder than a whisper you’d start crying.

“Since the moment you first came by to try out the job.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” small, but noticeable tears were now falling down your face. “You’ve felt this way for almost 2 months and you didn’t say a word?”

“Y/n, please don’t-“

“What do you mean ‘please don’t?’ How am I supposed to brush past this knowing you’ve felt like this for 2 months now?” You wiped the tears off of your face.

Mike was now looking down at the table, avoiding your face at all costs. He knew if he saw you that way, it would be over for him. It was never his intention to make you feel this way, he knew you would care, but he didn’t think you’d care this much.

“Mike, look at me right now.”

His eyes hesitantly met yours. Your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your head.

“You are the most thoughtful, caring, most determined person I’ve ever met. You sacrifice so so much for Abby and you don’t even realize it. When I talk to Abby, I hear all about a big brother who pours his heart out just for her to be happy. She is so incredibly lucky to have someone who dedicates so much of his time and energy just to make her happy. You didn’t ask for this and I know you’ve been through hell and back, but you do everything for that girl. No matter how much you think she doesn’t see it, you are genuinely her whole world. I have never, ever, met someone so caring in my life. You don’t have to do any of it, yet you are so selfless that you do it.”

“Then why does she hate me? Why does she always say so much about how great you are and how much she loves your cooking more than mine? Why are we always arguing over the stupidest things?”

“That’s what siblings are for Mike.” you said with an airy laugh through your tears. “After I came over to hearing your argument I went to talk to Abby. She said how she thought you hated her, how you’re always working and never do stuff with her anymore. I told her to look at all of the amazing things you do for her, all of the toys and art supplies she is lucky enough to have. I asked her who gets her all of these things. Who works their ass off for her to have the greatest childhood ever? You do, Mike. She just doesn’t know how to put that into words or actions. We’re gonna work on that though, okay?” you reached across the table to grab his hands and held them in yours.

“You need to give yourself a whole lot more credit. All I want is for you guys to be okay.” you smiled, tears still running down your face. “I just want to help you guys in any way I can. I don’t care how much I get paid or how often I get paid, that doesn’t matter to me anymore Mike. I just want to be there for the two of you.”

After all he said, after his vulnerability showed the underlying jealousy he had for you and your kindness you did it once again. You put others before yourself. He didn’t realize you were not going to give up.

“This is exactly why I don’t deserve you.”

“Quit saying that, you deserve me just as much as Abby does.” you squeezed his hands, reassuringly smiling at him. “You’re not getting rid of me.”

All he really wanted to do in this moment was to get up and kiss you. You believed in Abby, and in him, when you didn’t have to. No one was forcing you to do any of this and to know you were taking it upon yourself from the kindness in your heart made Mike feel even crazier for you. You were one of the first people to show genuine care and love to him and Abby since their parents passed away.

“I love you Y/n.”

Those 4 words came out with no thought, no hesitation, no control. It just felt right.

You were both shocked, yet relieved to hear those words. Your next 4 words didn’t have much thought to them either

“I love you too Mike.” you said, not hesitating either. It didn’t feel forced in the slightest, it felt right for both of you. You honestly couldn’t believe what had just happened and neither could Mike. Neither of you would admit it, but you weren’t even sure what to do next.

“Well it took you guys long enough.” a small voice peeped from behind you.

You turned around to see Abby, standing with her arms crossed, a smug look on her face.

“Abby, how long have you been here?” Mike said, quickly letting go of your hand he still had in his.

“Long enough to hear you and Y/n say you love each other.” she said, smiling wide and giggling. “I am so happy you finally told Y/n you have a crush on her! Or did Y/n tell you she has a crush on you?” her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say that’s what happened but-“

“Oh, he definitely was the one who told me first.” you smirked after interrupting.

“But who decided to hold hands first?” he quickly responded, returning you a small smirk.

Your face began burning up as you buried your face in your hands for a moment, but you also couldn’t help but laugh. Leave it up to Abby to be little miss matchmaker. Of course she’d sneak her way in to finally see her hard work come together. Once Mike realized there was no point in hiding anything anymore, he grabbed your left hand again and held it in his. It felt almost freeing, like a weight was lifted off of him in multiple ways, to be able to hold your hand.

“Also, I’m hungry.” she chimed in quickly, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

You and Mike both looked at each other, knowing that the pasta he attempted to cook was probably off the table now. It was also almost time for Mike to go to work now, which he really didn’t want to do anymore, but there was no other choice.

“I’ll just order you guys a pizza.” he said with a smile, a genuine smile. “Y/n doesn’t need to be cooking for you after this, and I know you won’t eat whatever I can make in 10 minutes Abs.”

Abby began jumping around with pure excitement. Probably a little too excited after just offending Mike’s cooking, but that didn’t matter anymore. As long as she was happy and you were happy, Mike was gonna be happy. He was going to start changing his attitude about everything and he wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else than you. It wasn’t going to be easy, but was gonna try his very best.

“You sure Mike? I don’t mind cooking.” you replied.

“Really Y/n?” he said, sarcastically rolling his eyes.

“Okayyy fineee.” you said holding out the endings extra long, just for dramatic effect.

“Thank you Mike!” the Abby shouted, running up to his chair to give him a hug. Mike smiled at you as the young girl clung onto him.

“Thank you.” he mouthed to you.

You gave him a soft smile in response. You looked down at the black hoodie still in your lap. You brought it in the case he wanted it back, but after the conversation you two just had, there’s a good chance he’d want you to have it. Whether that was his original intention for you to keep it or not, you decided you would keep it. A constant reminder of who you were doing this for. Taking this job, you didn’t know what you were getting yourself in to. You also didn’t know why you were so nervous for this conversation. It couldn’t have gone any better. You were ready to go through whatever hardships and challenges you had to for your two favorite neighbors.

——————————————————————————

A/N: get ready for part 6 hopefully before thanksgiving 🥳🫶 also trust i see all of ur comments and i wish i could reply to ALLL of them, but i don’t wanna flood the comments! sending each and every one of u and virtual hug rn and love! 🫂 if anyone wants a little preview of what’s to come, check out of my first work my favorite prize, those r the vibes i am going for in part 6 🤗

jules jewels (tag list! lmk if u want to be added or removed 🤗)

@balesita @universi8 @browneyedgirly93 @marsmallow433 @prongsprincessworld @ajlareads @k3nnlolz @louweasleymalfoy @chompwoman @wasabidottie @queenie-official @emmaishere432 @curasimp @nevvdrinksteaa @rcailleachcola @scribblesandsherlock @iheartyouyou @prosteticsynthesis @novausstuff @dessxoxsworld @1-akira-2 @starringo @planetevermore @cherriebat @mxrvelouss

#fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy’s movie #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf fic #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt has my heart #reader and mike schmidt should kiss already 🫣

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 3

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, voyerism, masturbation, vaginal fingering, size difference, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7

“It’s two days, I’ll be fine.”

It became clear after the thirtieth attempt to reassure her that your promises were doing nothing to settle her nerves but you refused to stop trying. 

She was supposed to have left an hour ago but instead she’d been wandering around, checking that everything was in place over and over again. There was only so many times someone could check their warding before it became clear they were stalling. 

She pointed accusationally in your direction as she lifted a rug to check once more that the carving underneath remained intact. “I need you to swear to me that you won’t try and pull anything. Just keep everything clean and stay out of trouble, okay?”

You nodded. “Promise.”

She left you with one final rule that you knew you’d be breaking. “Don’t be stupid.”

You stared out the window as she left, chin perched on the windowsill as you patiently waited. 

She quickly exitted your line of sight, engulfed by the woods. When she did, you started counting. 

one. two. three. 

The wind blew through the leaves outside, the trees beckoning you forwards. They’d started to turn, shifting to bright reds and oranges. It suited them, like the bright colors poisonous animals had plastered across their backs. 

one hundred. one hundred and one. one hundred and two. 

You made sure to wait a beat between each number, refusing to accidentally speed through your counting. You wouldn’t get overeager. You wouldn’t blow this chance. 

nine hundred ninety nine. one thousand.

You sprung up, your self imposed deadline complete. A thousand seconds and no sign of Eden turning back or losing faith in you. Whenever she turned back, she did it quickly, quick-witted and self assured even in her about-facing. 

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting to summon your new second-favorite conversation partner with the frantic look you knew was in your eye right now. 

Deep breaths. You’d done this before, you would be just fine. 

You spoke the words slowly, with intention. Most of the waiting had already gone by, you could wait a few minutes more to make everything went right. 

Finally, your patience paid off and Lucien appeared before you once more. 

“Why didn’t you tell my witch about me summoning you,” you asked, skipping the formalities and rushing through your question, eager to reach the conclusion of the little script you’d been working over and over in your head. 

“I thought she wasn’t your witch?”

You’d known he was going to dodge that question, you knew him well enough to figure that out by now. It was more of a primer than anything, establishing the subject of questioning. 

“Are we friends?” It sounded a bit desperate but for the life of you you couldn’t figure out another way to phrase it. 

“No.”

“Oh. Then why?”

“Friends don’t imprison each other in summoning circles.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to get your line of questioning back on track. “No, not why aren’t we friends, why didn’t you tell her? I can’t think of any other reason than you not wanting me to get in trouble and stop summoning you.”

“Then you lack imagination. Why aren’t you whispering?”

“What?”

“You always whisper, even when she’s out,” he noted. “You’re not whispering anymore.”

“I just got excited.” Your tone was too defensive to be convincing, not that it would have mattered anyways. He had a knack for figuring you out regardless of how hard you tried to hide things. 

“Maybe. Do you know what I think? I think she’s left you alone and it’s made you braver.”

“You’re good at reading people.”

“Only when they’re easy to read,” he said offhandedly and you bristled at the comment. “So that’s it, is it? The cat’s away?”

“She doesn't mind, it's just a summoning.”

He tisked at you and you knew he didn’t believe you. “Keep lying to me and maybe I won’t cover for you next time.”

Maybe that was a hint for why he hadn’t told her. “If you’re trying to threaten me it won’t work,” you informed him. “Tell her if you want, you won’t be able to make me do anything.”

He appraised you and the confidence you were doing your best to put on. “I suppose we’ll see about that. Sweet of you to keep dragging me here and letting me try.”

That mocking tone was becoming ever so familiar to you. 

“I just-” Your words were cut off by a bang coming from outside the house. 

Your head jerked towards the door, where the echoing noise sounded like it had come from, and Lucien chucked behind you.

“Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought you were.”

The demon’s teasing was immediately forgotten in favor of desperately trying to figure out what was going on. It had sounded like it came from behind the front door but it was far louder than any knocking you could imagine. It almost sounded like someone was barrelling into it. 

The air was very still as you waited, staring the door down as if maybe if you looked hard enough you’d be able to see whatever was on the other side. 

You’d half convinced yourself you’d imagined it when it happened again, the sound of someone slamming into the door echoing throughout the room. 

Noone was supposed to be able to see this place at all, the warding kept anyone other than you and your witch from percieving it, let alone getting near enough to bang on the door. This wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be happening. 

Surely Eden had protected you against this, right? She would never have left you vulnerable, You’d watched her check every single piece of warding in the house, you were safe. 

The pounding at the door told a different story.  

You should dismiss Lucien. He was a loose canon in a dangerous situation, having him around could only be a liability. 

And yet you just stood there, frozen. 

No dismissing the demon, no moving towards the door, just standing absolutely still. 

At the sound of the next crash, you shrunk closer to the summoning circle without thinking, Lucien’s snickering getting louder as you pulled back and towards him, panic running through you. 

Lucien was doing exactly what you’d expected, he was taking advantage of the situation. 

You hadn’t even realized he’d begun talking, too focused on the pounding on the door. “I wonder who’s out there? You’re running out of options, better think fast.”

Your eyes darted around, looking as if there was anything in this room that you didn’t already know about, know exactly how it worked and where it lay. Nothing in here could help you. Maybe it could help Eden, or someone with some real power, but not you. 

He was right, you were running out of options. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have any. 

It was a stupid idea. Of course it was. But you liked your chances better with your demon than with whatever was out there. 

You dragged your foot across the floor, through the summoning circle, breaking the continuous lines Eden had so painstakingly drawn. 

For a moment he did nothing, staring down at you incredulously, completely unmoving. 

The inaction didn’t last long. His arm shot out and yanked you towards him, wrapping around you as you were pulled into his chest protectively. You couldn’t see anything, your vision shielded by his embrace. 

The banging stopped. 

The first thing you noticed when you pulled away wasn’t the sudden change in setting. 

The first thing you noticed was that you were hungry. No, not hungry, maybe you were tired? Or maybe you were lonely. You needed something, that much you were certain of. You were tired of waiting.

“How’s it hitting you?” He was looking down at you and only then did you realize you were still wrapped up in his arms. 

“What?”

“Hell. How’s it feel?”

Is that what this was? It didn’t feel like eternal torment or burning fires, it just felt like want.

He let go of you and you pulled away, stumbling backwards. A hand grasped your arm, stopping you from tumbling to the ground. 

He propped you up, gently leaning you against the wall so you could support yourself, hovering next to you to make sure you wouldn’t collapse again. 

“There you go, easy does it.”

He left you to catch your breath and sort through the flurry of sensations and you leaned against the wall, catching your breath as you took in your surroundings. 

Hell was cozier than you ever could have imagined. There were soft pillows and blankets scattered across the floor and you wanted nothing more than to curl up on one and fall asleep forever. 

Everything was bright and colorful, the floors and walls covered in deep, rich shades. It was an assault on your senses. You were practically certain that Lucien was the only thing in the room that came in a shade of gray. 

The colors were muted only by the lighting. It was dark, with an ambient glow like it was coming from candles but there were none in sight. Every time you tried to trace the glow it led nowhere, just drifting through the air as it pleased. It wasn’t dark enough that you couldn’t see properly but just dim enough that it made the room feel even cozier.

The wall you were leaning against was draped in a tapestry covered in the depiction of a bright, setting sun. You were close enough that you could see every stitch, your head leaning against a bright orange. 

“What… why am I here?” you managed, not sure you had anything but questions in you right now.

“Didn’t have anywhere else to take you. I didn’t think you’d actually free me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Do you want a tour?” he asked casually, like you weren’t experiencing the most confusing torrent of sensations that had even filled you.

You stared up at him incredulously. 

He rolled his eyes at your furrowed brow. “Don’t worry so much. Besides, if you faint the pillows will break your fall.”

Against all odds, that was mildly reassuring. No matter what happened, it did seem practically impossible to hurt yourself on anything in here. 

He hovered above you as you started to walk, making sure you wouldn’t immediately collapse. You managed to walk just fine, although every bone in your body was begging for you to just lie down right now and go to sleep. 

It was a quiet, small space, completely empty except for the two of you.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked, your voice instinctively hushed so as not to disturb the peace. 

“They’re all out there, this place is mine. I would stay in here if I were you, other demons might be less nice to a strange little human invading their space.”

It probably should have registered sooner that this was his home. You weren’t sure where else you thought he’d taken you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You aren’t. Just stay put, okay?”

Amidst the sea of soft things was a little table covered in food. Not just any food, it appeared to be exclusively sweets, dozens and dozens of them. 

He presented it to you. “This is where I usually take humans,” he said. “You tend to respond well to it.”

You didn’t even reply, your instincts taking over as you sat by the table and immediately grabbed some chocolate, nothing more important to you than eating in that moment. 

He stood across from you, just watching.  “I’m shocked sloth didn’t get to you first, you really looked like you were nodding off there.”

You looked up from your food. “What?”

“You were staring at the pillows and you seemed like you might take a nap. This place, it encourages you to act on your desires. It isn’t strictly limited to the sins but those are the most common things you humans deprive yourselves of so they tend to pop up here. Most people get angry or self-absorbed or horny or fall asleep, you seemed like the sleepy kind.”

You half absorbed his explanation. At the very least it drew your attention away from the food and onto him. 

“You’re really pretty, have I told you that?” you asked as you stared up at him. 

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe you’re stopping by lust first.”

“No, not in a lust way, just in a look at you way. You seemed very convinced I’d be scared of you but like, you’re super pretty. Isn’t that a thing, demons being pretty? Lucifer was gorgeous from what I can remember, that’s part of the deal isn’t it.”

“I’m not pretty, I’m scary.”

“You’re not scary, you’re just big. Big and gray and also pretty. And your teeth! They're so big and sharp, I think about them more than I probably should.”

“Alright you need to get some rest, you’re getting a bit too honest.”

He couldn’t stop you fast enough. “Do you know who else is pretty?

He jumped in immediately. “Don’t say her name.” 

You giggled. “Right, you’re not supposed to know that. Sweet of you to warn me. My sweet demon. I think I’m growing on you. She’s gorgeous though, have you seen her? And she’s incredible and smart and talented. She’s literally perfect, have you noticed that?”

“Not how I would describe her,” he spat, his resentment clear in his tone. “Don’t you feel a little bitter towards her? I’ve seen how she treats you. Or at least jealous of how much better at magic she is than you are.”

You shook your head adamantly. “No, of course she’s better at it than me, she’s perfect. Weren’t you listening? Perfect perfect witch.”

Lucien groaned. “Alright, I don’t know if I can stomach this much longer. You should try and sleep this off, you’ll adjust faster if you just give into it for a bit.”

You fell backwards onto one of the many pillows strewn about, giggling as you went down. 

You managed to catch Lucien rolling his eyes playfully between fits of giggles before you were being swept across the floor, the pillow you were laying on being dragged over to Lucien in the corner. 

Being moved across the floor didn’t bother you. You snuggled into the red pillow as Lucien haphazardly tossed a blanket on top of you. The way it fell, it was just draped across your midsection but you were warm enough already that you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

As he moved to stand, you grabbed at him, trying to keep him with you. You knew you couldn’t actually hold him there but your sleep addled brain insisted you try.  

“You should stay,” you said.

“It could’ve been anger,” he bemoaned. “That would have been so much easier to deal with. Why couldn’t you just get angry?”

Despite his protests he didn’t pull away, settling down next to you as your grip remained firm on his arm. 

It only took a heartbeat to fall asleep, it overtaking you the second you gave yourself permission to drift off and fall into a restful, dreamless sleep

The first thing you felt when your mind left its fuzzy, exhausted state was embarrassment as your ramblings from the day before came flooding back to you. It wasn’t the most dignified you’d ever been but you supposed there were worse things you could have done than go on a compliment rampage. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself to cull the tides of the self-consciousness. 

He was right, the sensations had settled down, or at least you’d gotten more used to them. They were still there, bubbling under the surface, making everything feel a little easier, but you felt like you could think properly. Like you were yourself again.

As your eyes cracked open you saw the same room you’d fallen asleep in. “I’m still here,” you muttered, the observation shattering the thought in the back of your head that perhaps this had all been an elaborate dream. You noticed Lucien looking down at you from beside you, your hand resting on his arm. “You’re still here,” you noted, somehow more surprised by him remaining next to you than by you still being tucked away in his little corner of hell. 

He tactfully ignored your second observation. “You’re stuck here until I get summoned again. I can’t go back to your little cabin otherwise, your witch’s warding made sure of that.”

You pulled your hand away from him but that didn’t stop his unblinking gaze. It almost felt like he was dissecting you. 

You stared back. He looked more lively here, his face brighter than it was in your world. He wasn’t on edge like he was when you usually saw him. This was his turf, it was your turn to be anxious and defensive. 

And yet you just weren’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to be, it felt too safe here for that.

“You’re harmless,” he muttered. “I can’t believe you’re really harmless.”

“I’m not harmless,” you responded playfully, wanting desperately to break the tension. “I’m so scary, the opposite of harmless.” You scrunched up your nose and barred your teeth in the closest approximation to scariness you were capable of. 

All he could do was laugh and watch as your thoughts drifted from your newfound scariness back to your supposed harmlessness. 

“What would the opposite of harmless even be?” You asked. “I’m… what, harmful? No, that's not right.”

Despite the lengthy nap, your brain still felt a little slow, trying to quietly convince you to drift right back off to sleep on the soft, plush pillows. It would be so easy, it was so warm in here, and it smelled nice too. Just a few more minutes and then you’d be well rested. That was all you needed. 

“Hell’s nice,” you noted as the room tried to lull you back to sleep. “It isn’t supposed to be nice, is it?”

“It’s not supposed to be anything, it just is. You shouldn’t be here anyways, it wasn’t made for you.”

“Then why did you take me here?”

“I told you, I didn’t have anywhere else to take you.”

“You could’ve left me,” you noted astutely. 

“It’s be a shame to lose a perfectly good ally” 

That didn’t sound right. “So I'm your ally now?”

”It’s starting to seem like it”

“Well thank you. For saving me. You really didn’t have to. I could be dead right now. Or worse than dead, and now I’m safe and warm and remarkably comfortable.”

“It was my turn to be a good host anyways.”

 You nodded solemnly. “Mmhmm, turntables and all that.”

“You’re really just sleepy, aren’t you?”

“Don’t say that like it’s weird. It’s not my fault you’ve built a house that’s basically just a big bed, I can’t help it.”

“Go back to sleep then.”

“No!” you insisted. “You’re actually answering my questions, I can’t stop now.”

“What more questions could you possibly have?”

“Plenty. For starters, why didn’t you let me say her name?” There were decidedly more poignant questions you could have asked but right now, that was the thing that made the least sense to you. 

“Okay, we’re done here.” He turned to leave, it apparently being a bridge too far for him.

“No, please don’t go, you were giving me so many answers! Please tell me,” you pleaded with him

“Just think of it as a thank you for opening up my summoning circle.”

“Was you saving me not my thank you?”

The question was genuine but he seemed stricken by it anyways. He looked down, avoiding your gaze. 

“Listen, I need to head out for a bit. I meant what I said, you need to stay put, okay? Just take another nap or something.”

“Eventually, I will stop being tired,” you countered, knowing you couldn’t just keep taking naps forever.

“One would think, and yet here you are.”

Your yawn did anything but help your argument. He seemed to take that as his cue to depart, leaving you behind with no one left to protest to and instead opting to just take one more nap. 

Apparently you’d been correct, eventually your body did stop prioritizing sleep in favor of other wants.

Thoughts you’d been pushing down started to tug at the corners of your mind, demanding your attention. Your thoughts drifted where they shouldn’t. To Eden, her soft hands and sharp words. To Lucien’s teeth and his broad frame and shockingly sweet demeanor for a demon that she’s freed from the prison she’d put him in.

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up with thoughts like this but they were harder to push away here. You longed for your body to just beg for sleep again, that was a desire it was much easier to deliver on. 

No matter how hard you tried your mind continued to wander. Tossing and turning on the pillows did nothing to stop the desire that was bubbling up to the surface. 

Eventually it became too much to bear. Lucien was gone, it wasn’t like you’d be bothering anyone. 

Your hand snaked down under the waistband of your pants. Your amplified desire meant you were already soaking wet before you’d laid a finger on yourself. 

You knew it was the lust doing it, that normally you’d just force the thoughts away and pretend you’d never had an untoward thought about either of the only two people you cared about. 

The lust of this place didn’t come accompanied with the guilt that you were used to. 

Letting go felt good. It had been building up for too long, it needed a release and your body was determined to find one. 

Your fingers slipped inside easily. The two fingers curled up but they did nothing other than frustrate you. Your walls clenched and you wanted more, you wanted them. 

It smelled like him in here. It had been so hard to place earlier, just filling you with comfort, but now you couldn’t notice anything else. 

“Someone’s been busy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin as the sound of Lucien’s voice filled the room. You pulled your hand away from yourself, wedging your legs together in a desperate attempt to cling to some of your dignity. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

He shook his head dismissively. “Don’t let me stop you.”

You hesitantly let your legs fall open once more, not wanting to let go of the feelings that had overtaken you. 

He broke eye contact with you as you did. “I’ll leave you to tire yourself out.”

You whined out, “No, stay. Please” 

He halted his retreat, remaining propped up in the doorway, his eyes refusing to wander from yours. Part of you couldn’t help but wish he’d look away, that there was something else he might want to see from you right now. 

You’d expected more smugness from him. Normally it radiated from him anytime you showed any signs of vulnerability and right now, you were more vulnerable than you’d even been. 

But there were no traces left of it on him, replaced by curiosity and interest and something that you just couldn’t place.

“Who are you thinking about?” he pressed, breaking the silence. “It’s not like you have many options.”

Any sense that would normally make you keep your mouth shut had long since abandoned you. “Both of you.”

“Both of us? Greedy. Your eyes might be bigger than your stomach, little one.”

Your fingers weren’t enough. You wanted more, wanted to be filled, wanted him. 

You whined out again.

“Why are you complaining?” he asked, some of that incessant smugness returning. “I’m doing what you asked, I’m staying.”

You both knew what you wanted but he was going to make you say it. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be annoyed with him for it. 

“Ask nicely,” he goaded. 

“Please touch me.”

He didn’t make you ask twice, sinking down to your side and gently moving your hand away. 

The anticipation was burning through you as his hand rested on your stomach, slowly drifting down as if he wanted to let you get accustomed to his touch first.

His hand drifted even further down, his thumb caressing the inside of your clothed thigh as he stared down at you. Your breath caught in your throat as he finally touched you, his hand slipping into your pants and meeting the wetness that was seeping out of you. 

He slowly thrust one finger inside of you and you already felt filled, more than your fingers could ever fill you. The rough palm of his hand rubbed against your clit as his finger dove deeper inside of you and you bucked up in search of more friction. 

You went to move your hand back down instinctually and he pulled it back up immeidately, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head with his unoccupied hand. 

“You asked for my help, let me take care of you,” he insisted.

His eyes raked up and down your form as you lay writhing beneath him. 

“You are a pretty little thing, aren’t you. You should have freed me sooner, I would’ve been more convincing if I knew this was what you wanted. Just a little nap and for me to fuck you into the ground, is that right?”

A strained, “please” escaped you and he just chuckled. 

“Maybe some other time. For right now let’s just focus on you. Come for me, I know you want to.”

His thumb rubbed up and down your pinned wrists, as if trying to soothe you while you pushed your hips up into his hand. It was comforting, giving you something to focus on as he worked you over, his finger curling up while his thumb rubbed over your clit. 

Your walls clamped down around his finger as a pressure began to build up in your core. His movements on your clit stayed steady as he thrusted his finger in and out of you. 

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you reached your peak. More whines escaped you as your hips pushed up, entirely overwhelmed and yet still pleading for more. 

White hot pleasure raced through you, all that tension unwinding with a snap. He remained steady, working you patiently through your orgasm. 

It felt like it lasted an eternity, wave after wave of repressed need being released all at once. 

You were panting as you came down, your limbs feeling as if they were made of lead. You didn’t think you could stand up even if you needed to. 

Lucien pulled out of you as you lay there, recovering. He pulled his middle finger up to his mouth and you watched it, slick with your juices, pass right by his lips. His focus had finally shifted from your form, eyes shut as he tasted you. 

He wasn’t putting on a show for you like he normally did, like it was more for his sake than for yours. 

This place refused to let you stop wanting and before you knew it you were asking more of him. 

“Can you stay?” you asked once more, desperate in an entirely different way and trying not to let it seep into your words quite as much this time. 

He complied, lying next to you on top of the soft pillows that you were certain had seen far worse things than this.

You were more aware of how this place affected you now but you still could barely stop yourself from just speaking. That’s all hell really was, it seemed. Not torture and misery but confessions and honestly, real honesty.

“Thank you for staying.”

“You didn’t need to ask, I wouldn’t have left you.”

A little voice in the back of your head swore that couldn’t be true, that he was just saying it for your sake, and you were too tired to counter it. “Oh. Well, thank you anyways.”

“You know what? I didn’t think it was possible to hate your witch any more but after getting to know you I think I’ve managed it. You’re too used to being alone, it isn’t right.”

“You’re too hard on her.”

“You’re not hard enough on her. She’s isolated you completely, you can’t honestly tell me it doesn’t make you angry.”

You weren’t sure why he could seem to understand it, incapable of wrapping his head around your feelings for her when he was so good at reading you in practically every other way. “No. It makes me feel very very alone but it doesn’t make me angry. She does what she has to, I’m lucky I even have her. I don’t think I’d mind it so much if someone actually wanted me.”

“I’m sure you’re wanted.”

“I’m not. I don’t even think E- my witch wants me but at least she lets me stick around and takes care of me.”

He graciously let the near slip of Eden’s name pass by once more, instead opting to focus on what you’d said. “That’s why you keep summoning me.”

“Mmhmm. I told you that, not my fault if you didn’t believe me.”

“The lonely little apprentice. I should give your witch a piece of my mind, it’s inhumane to keep you in these conditions.”

You snorted. “I’m not her pet.”

“I think someone should tell her that.”

Despite the tone of his questions, you couldn’t help but miss her the more you talked about her. “How long do you think I’ll be here?”

He shrugged. “I suppose that just depends on when your witch gets back. Broken summoning circle on the floor, her little apprentice gone, it doesn’t take much to figure out what happened.”

It was a horrifying scene to imagine. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be worried about how upset she would be at you, the image of Eden walking into an empty house with a broken summoning circle on the floor and whatever else had been done to your home was all you could think about. 

“What if the people who were trying to break in are still there?” You hadn’t even considered the fact that they might hurt her when she got back. Guilt flooded through you as you thought about how carefree and happy you’d been while she could be in real danger. 

You felt his chest raise in a sigh beside you. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

His frustration at your concern for her was understandable but discouraging nonetheless. 

He’d started to connect with you but there was nothing you could do about the two of them. Your two favorite people, your two only people, forever at odds. 

He gently nudged you out of your thoughts, pulling your chin up to make you look at him. “You can overthink later. Sleep now while you’re here, while it’s easy. Who knows, maybe you won’t sleep for a full day this time.”

“Did I really sleep for that long?” you asked, barely fighting off a yawn.

“You did. It’s alright though, don’t worry, I’ll wake you up if you need to be up.”

You began to drift off, sleep coming quickly to you once more. 

You weren’t worried about anything. You believed him.

#terato #demon x reader #demon x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #demon #the witch's apprentice #this was such a fun chapter to write #the calm will not last but I love their little sweet moments

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for not telling my partner about the other people I'm with when I plan to break up with him soon?

I (19) and my partner (18) have been together for a few years. We are polyamorous, to be clear. His only thing is that he wanted me to let him know & let him meet any new partners of mine. However, for the past year and a half or so, he's barely been around. I'm lucky if I get to talk to him for maybe an hour per month. So in the past 4-ish months since I have had other people ask me out, I haven't gotten to tell him much more than letting him meet 1 of them and telling him there was others I wanted him to meet. And even there, I'm not entirely sure he got the memo that these were my *partners* and not just people I was close to.

However, I know this relationship isn't going to last longer. From the beginning, my friends, other partners (not the same as the ones I am currently with, although my other current partners also hate him) , and family + therapist have said my relationship is not healthy or even abusive and want me to leave him. But I never had the strength to walk away. I loved, and still love him, too much. He's made it clear that if I left, he would be completely alone, and feel isolated. That's not something I want to do to him. On top of that, although he hasn't done it in several years now, at the beginning of our relationship he would regularly tell me how finding me saved him from suicide, how he would be gone without having found me. Treated me like I was his reason for surviving. I know he didn't mean that in a bad way, but it still stuck with me, and a part of me worries for what will happen if I leave. Plus, he knows everything about me. I don't believe he would, but I know if he wanted to he could easily make my life hell, and that makes it terrifying to try to walk away from him.

So I'm not sure when we actually will break up. Just that we will. He's talked about breaking up himself before, but when I suggested we just get it over with since clearly neither of us where happy in this relationship, he said it "wasn't time yet". So I'm just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which makes me worry I'll be the asshole and cheating on him if I avoid telling him about my other relationships because I know ours is going to end. It feels heavy to tell him, between knowing we aren't going to keep being together, and the fact that he never reacts well to my other partners. Despite insisting he's okay with my polyamory and my relationships when I ask, he seems to almost always act aggressively when he meets my other partners. He acts rude towards them, and very possessive about me, often even siting how he was "here first". That's not something I want to put my partners through, especially not for someone I know is going to break up with me. Plus, a part of me feels guilty. Even though it's not going against boundaries, and I do really love all the people I'm with and do everything I can to make sure they all know that and feel loved and respected by me, it feels like I'm doing something wrong by being with so many people at once. It makes me feel ashamed to face my partner and go "hey so I'm with all these people too now! They all asked me out within the past 4-5 ish months yeah!" and like I'll have to find a way to justify it otherwise it'll look like I don't take our relationship seriously and am cheating.

WIBTA?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

[lenaellsi]

i've mentioned this before and it's a Hot Take maybe but. i don't think it's fair at all to characterize crowley's "you and me, what do you say?" speech from s2 as being equivalent to "fuck the earth run away with me to the stars right now" a la season 1

i guess i can see why it might come off that way, with gabriel and beelzebub having just left and crowley drawing the comparison to them, but a lot of people have sort of extrapolated from that this dichotomy where suddenly aziraphale is the one who cares about saving the world and crowley only cares about himself and aziraphale. and while i think crowley certainly prioritizes their mutual safety and is more likely to get spooked when faced with threats from heaven (i wonder why) crowley also loves earth?? he talks about it all the time.

the last time there was an apocalypse, crowley was the one who proposed saving the world, and he had to talk aziraphale into it. and like...he was planning breakfast at the ritz, wasn't he? he didn't want to leave. obviously "you can't leave this bookshop" meant "you can't leave me," but it also LITTLE bit meant the bookshop, and earth.

the circumstances of s1 were very different than the end of s2. crowley only wanted to run in s1 when 1) the end was about 4 hours away, 2) from his POV he and aziraphale had no idea where the antichrist was, so they wouldn't be able to stop anything even if they did stay to die with the humans, 3) aziraphale was about to Talk To Heaven the same way crowley tried to before the Fall, 4) demons were actively pursuing him for purposes of torture and annihilation. and in the end, he STILL stayed.

idk. if we're going to give aziraphale the benefit of the doubt for the Many Things he said in that convo, then i think we can afford to give crowley the benefit of the doubt that "we need to get away from them" and "go off together" might mean something more along the lines of "please don't go back to heaven, stay with me, it can be the two of us against them all." THAT was what crowley's emotional arc this season was leading to, with the flashbacks and his big revelation in ep 5, the same way aziraphale's was leading to leaving. every single one of the flashbacks had crowley choosing to help someone else at great personal risk--why would that lead to the conclusion that he actually wants to leave without trying to help? (of course, he did want to abandon gabriel. but I don't think that was even a little bit irrational after aziraphale's failed execution. walking away from the heavenly host who has done nothing but hurt both of them is not the same as walking away from earth. it's still a problem--ignoring heaven and hell will not, ultimately, fix anything--but again, it's not the same as abandoning humanity on a whim.)

TL;DR I don't think it's a fair reading to say that crowley's proposed solution to The Heaven And Hell Problem is "fuck humanity, let's give up." i think he was proposing working together against heaven and hell with the option of an exit strategy if everything went wrong, which is what he ALWAYS tries to do. (see: arrangement + holy water.) his need for an escape route and his tendency to prepare for the worst is something that is definitely hindering him in, for example, his relationship with aziraphale, but it also makes sense. because, you know. the last time he tried doing anything about heaven he got his wings lit on fire. so.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #crowley #good omens meta #call me a crowley stan but it's not fair to him to say that he doesn't care about anything but himself and aziraphale. he cares so much. #he didn't have to help job's kids. he didn't have to help elspeth. but he did #even though hell punished him for it when he got caught in edinburgh #he went back up and continued to do things his own way #but he also asked aziraphale for insurance. that's how crowley operates #push and push and push until you cross the line #and then run like hell to try to get out of the fire

[ellemfaoh]

Pinball, Hair, and Detention Pt. 1 | Vance Hopper x Reader

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Word Count: 2.9k

Categories: Enemies to Lovers (eventually lol), Rivalry, Angst, Fluff, mentions of past Bruce X Reader

Content Warnings: Swearing, Bullying, Mentions of Blood, Fighting, Female Reader implied

Summary: Reader and Vance have some sort of ongoing rivalry. You accidentally spilled your drink on his hair and he in turn gave you a “fresh cut.” You both end up getting detention together due to fighting. On the walk home one day— where you both live merely a block away, he barely misses your abduction and watches as you helplessly get carried away in a black van.

A/N: let’s pretend the grabber decided to start grabbing like a year or two later or smth cuz high schooler Vance and Bruce seems more plausible to me personally

A/N 2.0: Please excuse weird formatting like spaces behind paragraphs n shit. I wrote this on docs because my personal laptop is broken and my school laptops block tumblr—so all this uploading is done from my phone lol

——————————————

You never figured that walking into the Grab ‘N Go on a hot Denver summer day would have catalyzed as big a domino effect on your life as it did—and yet it did.

It was the middle of a Denver summer in 1977, the year before high school; and everyone was dealing with a week hotter than satan’s armpit. Most kids were either in their houses with the AC on full blast, in stores and the local theater, or away to go to the beach with their family. It explains why the town was just a little more empty this week. Both of your parents worked full-time jobs down in the city around an hour away, so you were confined to either your house or local entertainment attractions—the same ones you had been using since you could open your eyes. It was kind of old by the time you were twelve and stuck in your small town for yet another summer.

You were currently situated on your bed, reading last week’s edition of the Teen Beat magazine, flipping through the pages of celebrity interviews, dating tips, and latest fashion trends—which eventually got old, especially considering this was last week’s magazine. You checked the time. 12:53 PM. Probably the hottest part of the day. You only lived three blocks from the Grab N’ Go though, so if you biked or just walked quickly you probably wouldn’t get heatstroke just from being outside.

“Ugh.” You groaned, peeling yourself from the comforts of your bed. You had to change. “All of this for a magazine and some cola.” You muttered to yourself, sliding on the nearest (and hopefully clean) pair of jean shorts and exchanging your spaghetti strap pajama top for a plain white tee.

Getting out of your room and down the hall, you picked up the shoes you kicked off in the hallway yesterday and slipped them on, grabbing the $5 bill your parents left on the counter for you to order lunch with—which you were deciding to use for snacks. Maybe you’d pick up a small lunch thing on the way home. The money’s use was ‘to be determined,’ you decided.

Leaving your house and out into the Denver summer air, any amount of chill you felt on yourself before was wiped away completely. You needed to make this trip quick. What was a little jog compared to the instant relief of the too-cold Grab N’ Go?

Walking into the small convenience store was instant relief. Not too many people were around—and those that were wouldn’t bother you, the lady at the counter looked less bothered too, which was surprising since Vance Hopper was stationed at the pinball machine as per usual. Maybe it was because no one who would piss him off was there. Then again, anyone who bothers Vance must have a death wish.

Grabbing a soda and the new edition of Teen Beat, you walked over to the counter and slid the money over, opening the drink and quenching your thirst for a cold drink. Taking the return cash the lady gave you, you walked over to the exit, flipping through some pages absentmindedly. It was this exact moment where life seemed to have changed forever. An excited kid—probably an elementary schooler if you had to guess, ran into your arm, causing your soda to splash out of the bottle. You definitely had a death wish now, because your soda got all over Vance Hopper; the sugary drink now in his hair and on his back.

When the losing chime of the pinball sounded around the store and the blonde went still, the air in the mart tensed. Everyone was waiting. Watching. You didn’t bother to wait either, quickly speeding out of the store. Maybe he wouldn’t remember your face. You had never really talked with him before, the most you had done was look at him a few times in classes you had previously shared.

You had drank a little more soda and tossed it in the nearest trash. Sure you were running away from what was probably certain death, but you already bought the soda. Might as well finish what’s left before running away. You rolled up your magazine and tucked it into a pocket before moving into a slight jog to go back home. Or maybe you should go get something from a restaurant. Usually when you commit an unsaid crime hiding in unexpected places could benefit. You barely made it a block away before you heard Vance shout at you, his footsteps getting increasingly louder.

“Hey dumb shit! You just got your soda shit all over me!”

You sped up, breaking into a run and not responding to him. If you made it home in time then maybe he’d leave you alone. But what about school? You’d have to change your name and face and move across the country.

“I’m going to kill you!” Now he was running after you. He wasn’t unused to running after kids who fucked with him, so he was pretty used to this kinda thing. And he was fast at it too. “Gotcha!”

You yelped when you were grabbed and thrown down onto the grass next to the sidewalk. At least you were next to a park. Maybe God would be a little more merciful today, considering you could’ve been thrown onto the pavement. You really hoped that the next thing that would happen would be you getting saved right before he starts beating your head into the ground. You really didn’t feel like going to the ER today, and your mom would be pissed about how you knew you shouldn’t start shit with ‘Vance fucking Hopper.’ Your dad would probably beat you for a second time over the medical bills.

“I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You pleaded, choosing to explain yourself as he straddled your waist, keeping you in place between his legs as he grabbed at your shirt collar. Maybe he’d punch you softer? “Some kid ran into my arm! I promise I’d never bother you ever, Hopper!”

Vance just started down at you, fist by his side, assessing your words. “Huh.” He said, letting your shirt go as your upper body fell to the ground. Now you were winded. Better than the alternative. “Guess I’ll just get a similar payback then.”

You watched in horror as he pulled out a pocket knife. What was he gonna do? Carve his name into you? Cut up your face? Oh god, he was gonna murder you. With a not-so-gentle hand, the blonde boy pulled your hair, hands threaded firmly in your locks. “What…?”

Vance cut off a good length of your hair, and you watched in horror (as best you could) at the hack job. What previously used to be your clean-cut hair was now resting on the floor or cut in the most uneven way possible. Maybe a bright side would be the fact you had the layers all of your hairstylists could never give you. After he was finished, he stood up and looked at the hair in his fist while you sat there crying. “Now we’re even.” He said, tossing the rest of your hair into the grass next to you.

That was the start of your burning hatred for Vance Hopper.

——————————————

High School had finally started a few weeks after your and Vance’s incident. At least your hair could grow into its new form for a little bit. To say your mom was angry when she came home that night to find your hair hacked up was an understatement. She was livid—ranting about, ‘how could you let this happen?!’ And, ‘We need to schedule you an appointment with Shelly immediately.’ You had to hand it to your mom and Shelly though; cuz they got your hair not looking as horrible as it did. Hell, they even kept the layers, which was actually really nice. As you walked through the halls, you could tell there were a few people talking about your hair. It made sense though, considering you ended school with longer hair.

You walked up to your friend, Bruce Yamada, leaning against his neighboring locker as you let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and annoyance. He just chuckled and closed his locker, slinging his bag over his shoulder and gave you a light punch in the shoulder. “Spur of the moment decision, or did you get caught in something?”

“Does Vance Hopper count?”

“Yikes.”

You quickly socked him in the shoulder, lips turned into a frown as you looked at him. Bruce just gave a light chuckle and apologized for the remark while rubbing his shoulder. You weren’t by any means a crazily strong badass, but you can pack quite a mean punch. Just not against Vance Hopper, or Robin Arellano. Though, after your run-in with Vance this summer, you did practice your swings and basic attacks—just in case, you thought,

“Whatever, let’s just go to class.” You sighed, grabbing Bruce by his backpack strap and pulling on him. You two were lucky to have three out of your six of your classes together, and they were in every other class period, so it wouldn’t be horrible.

Rolling into your first period, which was Biology, you were relieved to not see a certain blonde-headed dickhead anywhere around. Bruce chuckled at you when you let out a sigh of relief and dragged you to the last available seats that were next to each other. You both would be damned if you didn’t sit next to each other. Bruce wanted someone to help keep his ‘crazy fans,’ as you dubbed it, away from him. You? You just didn’t really wanna sit next to someone you didn’t know well. You really hated the awkward silence when the teacher asked you guys to do the ‘get to know your classmate’ activities.

“Class one cleared.” He whispered to you, getting a giggle out of you. That was the nice part of being friends with Bruce, is that he always knew how to keep the mood light. Previously, a few summers ago, you both dated. It wasn’t anything big, and it just felt like being friends. You both decided to just keep up with the friends thing, considering there was no romantic chemistry there. Now you were both the other’s special person. Bruce’s break-ups, your family issues, no secret was kept between you two.

——————

After Biology ended and you started heading toward English, your stomach lurched up your throat. Vance Hopper was right in front of you. Luckily he was walking forward so he didn’t see you, but you almost bumped into him for a second time. You didn’t need to be re-acquainted with his pocket knife again. You saw a small space in the hallway clear out and give you a direct ‘in’ into your English classroom, so you quickly ducked your head and hurried into the classroom, finding a seat in the back of the class next to the windows. Thank god this spot was still open.

You set your bag down on your desk and laid your head on top of it, listening to the buzz of kids talking with their friends as they entered the classroom. What was a short 5-minute power nap gonna do? Just before you could relax fully though, the buzz turned into a quiet hum suddenly. It was weird. Did the teacher walk in? Was it Mr. Manning? He was the worst teacher to have. You lifted your head up to see what the quietness was about, expecting to see a balding middle aged man at the front of the class, but you were met with Vance Hopper.

“Fuck.” You mumbled, watching him walk up to you.

“Hey dipshit, you’re in my seat.”

The kids in the classroom visibly tensed as he spoke to you, watching as you gave him a tired look. You knew the easy path would be to relinquish your seat and move, but you were particularly pissed at him. You didn’t want to give him the right to walk all over you. It was the middle of a school day—what was he gonna do?

“No I’m not. I’m in my seat.”

Vance gave you an angry look, standing right next to you. “Do I need to cut off your tongue next? I’m telling you to–”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet. I’m taking attendance.” Your teacher walked in, and what did you know? Mr. Manning. “Also, these are your seats for the rest of the school year, so enjoy.” Everyone looked up at him, waiting for him to finish with whatever paper he had in his hands. Please look up. Please notice Vance. “Hopper! I know about you. Sit your ass down.” He said, pointing at the seat next to you. Fuck. That wasn’t occupied?

Vance gave you one more angry glare before dropping his stuff and sitting down begrudgingly in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Well, at least Vance wouldn’t be able to torment you too much here. When you looked up though, he slid his finger across his throat. A warning.

You’re dead.

——————

“I’m telling you Bruce, he kept kicking my legs during class! It hurt like a bitch too. Have you seen his boots? I’m gonna die.” You finish telling Bruce, sitting at your table and chewing angrily on your sandwich. It was Friday, the last day of the first week of school, and you were just hours from 48 hours of freedom from Vance Hopper. “And I have to deal with him in history next.” Yes, you had Vance Hopper in two of your classes

“Wow. Good luck.” He says, trading you his apple for your peach. “I mean, good luck with getting through high school. With Vance in your classes and all.”

“Your support speaks volumes.” You say flatly, laughing along with Bruce. You couldn’t ask for a better friend—he just always made things feel so much better.

That was until you felt a cold substance coat your head entirely, slowly dripping in your hair to your clothes. Vance fucking Hopper just poured his milk all over you. Bruce just stared at you for a second, standing up instantly as you took a moment to process what happened and wipe the milk off of your face.

“What’s your problem with (Y/N), man?!” Bruce shouted at Vance, the blonde walking away with a cocky smirk.

“I mistook her for a trash can, my bad.” He chuckled, kids turning to look at the commotion building. “Maybe you shouldn’t hang around her so much, you wouldn’t want me to have to—“

Vance was met with a right hook to the face, not expecting you to fight back ever. The first time you had cried over a simple accident, but now you were swinging at him? Oh were you getting bold. He blinked in shock for a moment, pressing a hand to his face and looking at you. Maybe now would be a good time to back down and accept what you had coming, but you were feeling really stupid today.

He seized you by your collar, holding you close as he growled out, “You’ll regret that when you’re six feet under, you bitch.”

You spat in his face, kicking at his knee to get him to let go—which he did, and you fell back to the ground with all your body weight, watching him wipe the spit from his face as he wound back and gave you a good kick to your legs, a yelp caught in your throat. Now the entire cafeteria had eyes on you both, kids watching in horror, shock, and excitement. You’d love to see these kids go toe-to-toe with Vance Hopper the way you were now.

After a short while of fighting, you and Vance were on the floor. Scratches, bites, punches, hair pulling. Blood, and bruises, and welts. Vance’s arms were for sure fucked to hell and back, but he did a large number to your torso. You would totally believe it if you were told you broke a rib. It wasn’t long before Bruce had run back in with security and staff, watching the two of you get pulled apart.

Vance had a bruise already taking place on his cheek and his arms were visibly harmed—hell, you even got a hold of some of his hair. The previously fluffy but somewhat tamed mop on his head was now a mess of tangles and abuse. You meanwhile had a bloody nose, and you were holding an arm around your stomach, knees wobbly. While you managed to get back at Vance in your own way, you definitely took the brunt of the beating, and not to mention the milk in your hair was still there.

Vance fought against the grip on his arms like an angry restrained dog, while you stared at the floor, walking to the office with the teacher who was next to you. Looking over at Bruce, he mouthed a ‘sorry’ and you just gave him a small smile, shaking your head. You could always count on Bruce to somehow end up a hero in a sense. With a last look back at Vance, he also walked in defeat to the office, refusing to look at you. What a fucking asshole.

#the black phone x you #the black phone x reader #the grabber #the black phone #vance hopper x you #vance hopper #vance hopper x reader #vance the black phone #pinball vance #bruce yamada #bruce yamada x reader #robin arellano #finney blake #robin arellano x reader #finney blake x reader #brady hepner #mason thames #miguel cazarez mora #tristan pravong #blumhouse #fanfic #x reader fic #requests open #asks open #enemies to friends to lovers #fanfiction #ethan hawke

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 6

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

“Oh would you look who decided to acknowledge I exist?”

Steve didn’t hold back his eye roll at Robin’s words since she couldn’t see him. He’d decided to call her on the walk to his car after work, just to update her on things and make sure she was okay if he wasn’t home right after work.

“We just saw each other yesterday.”

“More than 24 hours ago, Steve.”

“We are two separate humans, Robin.”

“But only one brain. Look at you separating a whole brain. This is why I couldn’t concentrate today. You took it with you.”

“Are you done?” Steve sighed. “If you’re done, I need to talk to my best friend.”

“What’s wrong?” Robin’s tone went from slightly annoyed to concerned, which meant she’d never actually been that annoyed to begin with.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be home late.”

Please don’t ask, please just accept it, don’t ask, don’t ask.

“Why?”

Fuck.

“Just stopping by Eddie’s for a bit.”

He was met with complete silence. He pulled his phone away to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped. It hadn’t.

“Robs?”

“Steve. I’m saying this because I love you.” Oh boy, here we go. “I’m worried.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just hanging out for a bit and then coming home.”

“You’ve practically lived with him since Saturday!”

“Okay, just because I slept over…”

“Twice! In a row!”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Uh huh. It doesn’t mean anything except you have barely been home and you literally went to subspace and dropped and probably subspace again with this stranger who did one nice tattoo and suddenly you’re ready to fly to Vegas and forget me!”

Ah. Steve let himself feel guilty for a moment before he remembered her insistence just a few weeks before that he needed to find other friends besides her, be social, maybe find a boyfriend.

Well, now he was doing some of that and she had a problem?

“I’m just enjoying my time with someone new. This is what you’ve wanted me to do forever, right?”

“Not like this!”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not following your rules for my friendships.”

“This isn’t a friendship, this is some weird sexual situation that’s gonna end up messy and you’re gonna end up hurt. It’ll be Nancy all over again.”

That hurt. Robin had been the one to get him through the Nancy heartbreak, always offering whatever support he needed while he worked through his disappointment that turned into an identity crisis that turned into a bit of a change of personality. She never judged him for his response to it. She was the perfect friend.

Having her throw it at him like this left a sour taste in his mouth and a hollowness in his chest.

She’d never spoken to him like this, not even when they got into stupid little arguments about cleaning the common areas of the apartment that sometimes escalated more than they should. This felt like she was jealous and taking it out on him.

Jealous of what though? She never seemed interested in having an actual relationship, and she was out all the time, leaving him to fend for himself in their apartment.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Steve.”

“Yeah, well. I appreciate the concern.”

Steve hung up. It wasn’t the mature thing to do, he knew that. But he was hurt, and he didn’t want to make things worse by letting the hurt out on her. He would talk to her when he got back home.

They were best friends, platonic soulmates. They’d get past this.

But for now, Steve turned his notifications off on his phone, got in his car, and drove to Eddie’s house.

– - – – – –

He made it inside with no issues, putting the key back under the mat once the front door was unlocked.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket once he was inside, ignoring the many texts from Robin to send a quick text to Eddie.

Made it home. Gonna make spaghetti. That okay?

He was looking around the kitchen to find all of the things he’d need when his phone started buzzing.

Eddie was calling.

“Hey, thought you’d be with the client.”

“I am, but it’s a friend. She’s taking a break. How was the rest of your day?”

Steve didn’t want him to know about his fight with Robin, not when most of it revolved around how quickly he was becoming attached to him.

“It was fine. Um, spaghetti’s okay? I just figured you probably had stuff for it.”

Eddie didn’t immediately respond, and Steve tried not to let himself worry.

“Spaghetti’s perfect. What happened, sunshine?”

How did he know? Steve was notorious for hiding his feelings from people, he’d been a champion for most of his life out of self-preservation.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Steve was putting everything into being convincing.

Eddie was at work, he didn’t need to deal with Steve’s problems.

“Stevie, did something upset you? Do you need me to come home?”

God, of course he would offer to hurry back. He was so nice and Steve didn’t deserve it.

“Steve. I will leave right now and come back, just say the word.”

“No, no. I’m okay. Just had an argument with Robin. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry, sunshine. What will help?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t think he could really talk about it right now. He didn’t want Eddie to feel like he had to talk him through it when he was with a client.

He started to feel worse.

“I think maybe I should head back early tonight. Make sure I see her before she goes to bed.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll be done here in an hour. You don’t have to cook anything, I’ll just grab us something on the way.”

“No. It’ll keep me busy. Can I cook please?”

He didn’t mean to sound so whiny, or practically beg, but it must have worked because Eddie gave in.

“If you really want to, you can cook. But I want you to go change into my clothes first, okay?”

Thank God Eddie couldn’t see the redness of his cheeks spreading down his neck.

“Okay. Can I wear your hoodie?”

He knew it would smell like him, and he knew it was soft, and he knew it would make him feel a million times better.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s on the bed. I’ll text you when I leave here, but call me if you need me before that.”

“I will.”

“Good boy. See you soon, sunshine.”

Steve felt warmer, lighter, more like he could handle the feelings Robin brought up. He knew if he could feel like this for a little bit, he could easily handle whatever conversation they’d have when he got home.

— — — — — —

Steve was so focused on the sauce he was making, he didn’t hear the front door open or footsteps come through the living room and into the kitchen or Eddie walking up behind him.

He felt strong arms wrap around his chest from behind, a soft kiss placed on his temple.

He leaned back against the warmth of Eddie, the calm he exuded taking over the whole kitchen.

“Welcome home, Eds.”

“Mm. Could get used to that,” Eddie said as he kissed Steve’s cheek, then his jaw, his neck.

Steve was doing his best to stay focused. He was cooking dinner, right.

He started to lean forward, but Eddie pulled him back again.

“Babe, I have to cook,” Steve giggled.

“Not done,” Eddie said against his neck, teeth barely scraping against Steve’s pulse point and causing him to let out a moan.

“I don’t.” Kiss. “Want this.” Kiss. “To.” Tongue.

Fuck.

“You keep cooking, sunshine. I’m just gonna enjoy my appetizer.”

“But I made garlic bread,” Steve pouted, pulling away as much as Eddie would let him. “For an appetizer.”

Eddie pulled away and looked at Steve, blinking at him as if he were confused.

Then he broke out in a huge smile.

“You’re trouble, sunshine.”

And to Steve, that sounded like he was saying something entirely different.

— — — — — — —

They didn’t talk about Robin.

Steve put their food on plates while Eddie grabbed some beers from the fridge.

It was very domestic. Comfortable. Nice.

Eddie insisted on sitting right next to Steve, one hand on his thigh for the entire dinner. His thumb was rubbing back and forth, his fingers sometimes drew designs on his knee, and he tapped rhythms into his skin until it felt like Steve was part of the song.

It was easy.

They talked about their days. Steve gave him the full play-by-play of his meeting with Will and Eddie kissed his cheek when he was done and told him how happy he was that Will liked it.

Eddie told him about his appointment, Chrissy, who he’d been good friends with since high school. He’d shown her that tattooing was a way to love her body when she’d been diagnosed with an eating disorder. He promised her he’d do any tattoo she wanted for free if she went through the intensive rehab and therapy process, and four months later, she came by his shop and became his favorite client on top of one of his best friends.

Steve leaned his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he spoke, smiling to himself as he realized that Eddie was just a caring person.

He cared about everyone in his life in a way that Steve had not been familiar with before Robin.

He cared the way Steve cared, and he made Steve want to show it more.

He made Steve want to be bright in a way he’d never wanted to be before.

Eddie made him feel like he could shine.

He felt the impending rain cloud of leaving his side, though. Facing Robin would be a storm he didn’t want to weather tonight, feeling a bit overwhelmed already from his day of emotions.

It had started so good. It felt good right now.

“You got quiet on me, sunshine. What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?”

A lot. So much. He didn’t know how to answer without putting everything on the table, and he knew he couldn’t do that right now. He didn’t want to cry either and that was getting more likely the more tired he got.

“Just thinking.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Anywhere you want is fine with me, sweetheart.”

Steve could tell him a little. Maybe talk about how much he wanted to stay by Eddie’s side. Or how he didn’t know how he was already so attached, but the thought of not having Eddie around was already devastating.

How much he could love him if he was given the chance.

“I’m scared that Robin’s right.”

Well, that’ll spark a conversation he didn’t want to have.

Nice job, idiot. You’re gonna end up spilling your secrets.

“Right about what?”

Eddie’s arm was now wrapped around Steve’s shoulder, hand resting against his arm where his fingers were tracing designs that Steve would tattoo on his skin.

“She said this is gonna end bad. I’ll get hurt. She didn’t want me to come tonight.”

Yeah, that’s not giving too much away.

Eddie’s fingers froze against his arm.

“She thinks I’d hurt you?”

“I guess.”

And a part of Steve believed it too. That was part of why he felt so shitty. Eddie already held the power to hurt him and he didn’t even realize it.

“Stevie, look at me for a minute.”

Steve pulled away, letting Eddie’s arm fall, but quickly finding his hand to lace their fingers together for extra comfort.

“I know this is gonna sound crazy, and it’s okay if you don’t wanna stick around after, but,” Eddie’s eyes were shining. Was he going to cry? “I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I’ve never wanted to spend every moment with someone before you. I missed you so much today, it was like I was being torn in half. I know it’s crazy. I know. But you’re important to me. I don’t know what will happen, I don’t know what you want, I just know that I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you.”

Steve could feel his lip quivering. He knew he had tears in his eyes.

He was in deep and the only way out was through.

“I don’t know how to explain how much being around you has changed me. Just in the last two days I’ve felt like someone I didn’t even know I could be. Robin’s worried because,” Steve took a deep, steadying breath. He had to be honest. Eddie deserved it. “I jump into things quickly. I’ve always been like that. I commit hard and fast and I end up hurt every time. She was around for the worst one with my ex-girlfriend. She’s worried this will be like that and thinks you’re just using me for the sexual aspect of it. Well, she thinks we’re using each other, I think. And maybe if you were different, I would be. I’m not always a great guy. But it’s just that you’re you. You’re the kind of person who will always get the best me because you deserve someone who makes you feel the way you make other people feel.”

The words just didn’t stop coming.

Steve would’ve been more nervous about it if he wasn’t watching the fondness seep out of Eddie’s pores.

His every movement revolved around Steve’s own, his touches gentle and electric.

His hand was cupping the side of Steve’s neck, his eyes staring into Steve’s soul, even though he’d just laid it out on the table in front of them.

“You deserve to be the best you because it makes you feel good. But if I can help you find that, then I’m all yours, sunshine. As long as you want me.”

Steve leaned forward, resting his forehead against Eddie’s.

He closed his eyes.

His phone started ringing.

He planned to ignore it. He knew it was Robin and he wasn’t quite ready to face her yet.

But he knew if he didn’t answer, she’d worry. Maybe dramatically call 911 to do a wellness check.

He didn’t want to put Eddie through all that.

He grabbed his phone and answered, letting his head rest against Eddie’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“Steve. Listen. I’m sorry about earlier, okay? I didn’t mean that. I’m just worried about you. I want you to have someone who makes you happy, but I want you to be safe and-“

“Robs, I know. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Eddie’s hands were moving up and down his back slowly, adding pressure to his shoulders where he was most tense.

“Are you gonna be home soon?”

Steve resisted saying that he was home.

He realized he’d said it twice to Eddie; This felt like home. He’d never really had somewhere that felt like home. Even with Robin, he knew they were roommates because neither of them could afford rent on their own.

But here, he felt like he could safely recharge, relax, be himself, float away and find his way back. And he could do it all with Eddie.

“Yeah. I’ll head out soon.”

Robin was silent as Eddie started playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt.

“You could just stay. If you wanted. I mean I have your location and you’ll text me in the morning so I know you’re alive.”

Steve considered that this might be a test, that Robin was seeing if he’d give in easily and not explain anything else.

But Robin isn’t the type of friend to test him like that. She was never anything but honest and straightforward, never would expect him to make a choice like that to win her love. That’s just not who she was.

“I could stay tonight.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, who was smiling and nodding down at him, hands never stopping their comforting movements on his back.

“I’m gonna stay tonight.” Steve smiled into the phone as if Robin was able to see. “But tomorrow, I’m coming home after work and we’re having a long talk. We’re gonna order pizza and we’re gonna drink enough cheap wine to have the worst hangover ever on Wednesday morning. Okay?”

Robin let out a quiet chuckle. Good. Laughter is good.

“Okay, dingus. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You got it, Robs.”

When Steve hung up the phone, Eddie pulled him tight against his chest, letting Steve find his place with his nose against his collarbone.

He breathed in his scent, smiling to himself at how quickly he relaxed into it.

“Sounds like things went well.”

“Mhm. Things’ll be good.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head.

“Let me clean up the dishes and then we can go to bed.”

“No, wanna stay here.”

“Here, in this chair?” Eddie snorted. “I don’t think either of us actually want that, sunshine.”

“Don’t wanna move.”

“How about I carry you?”

“Yes, please.”

For some reason, Steve didn’t exactly expect him to actually lift him in his arms and carry him. But he did.

He had him in his arms like he was a new bride being carried over the threshold, and Steve was blushing from his head to his toes.

Steve looked up at his face, taking in the way Eddie had a near-constant smirk when he was doing things like this. Like he was having fun and liked doing it.

Eddie dropped him in bed, laughing at the ‘oof’ Steve let out from the impact of hitting the mattress and pillows.

He stared down at Steve with that soft look he gave him before. Like Steve was actually making his life brighter, like it was a beautiful thing to have and know Steve.

No one has ever looked at him like that.

“Stevie.”

“Hm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

Steve gulped.

“I really want you to kiss me.”

Eddie didn’t question it or wait, and his wet lips were against his with a passion Steve had never experienced in his life.

He forgot about everything except the way Eddie’s lips fit perfectly against his, slowly opening his own up so he could lick into his mouth.

He ran his tongue along Steve’s bottom lip, smiling into the kiss when Steve let out a loud moan.

Eddie’s hand was in his hair, tugging on the ends just enough to keep Steve present as his other hand ghosted down his side and squeezed his hip.

Steve could stay just like this forever and it wouldn’t be long enough.

He’d never have enough of Eddie touching him, kissing him, caring for him.

He wanted it always.

He let out another moan when Eddie’s teeth bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth and lips like he was trying to eat him.

Steve would let him.

But just when he thought he was going to stay like this all night, Eddie pulled away, nipping at his bottom lip one more time before he separated from him completely and stood up.

“Gonna go clean up. Be a good boy for me and stay right here. No touching yourself.”

Steve hadn’t really thought about doing so until he watched Eddie walk away and glanced down to see that he was hard. Incredibly so.

Suddenly, his only focus was on getting relief from how hard he was. How had he gotten there from a kiss?

It was like every touch from Eddie was equal to 1000 touches from anyone else. If Eddie touched his cock, he was done for. He’d embarrass himself beyond belief.

Maybe if Steve didn’t think about it, it would go away and it’d be fine.

Maybe he could just give himself a little touch. Eddie wouldn’t know. It’s not like he was watching.

But Eddie said not to.

Steve had to listen to Eddie.

He could distantly hear Eddie washing dishes in the kitchen, dishes clanking around while the water ran from the faucet.

He could feel the heat of the sweatpants and hoodie he was wearing, causing him to break out in a sweat.

Eddie didn’t say he couldn’t take his clothes off. He just said he couldn’t touch himself.

So Steve removed the hoodie and sweatpants in record time, unable to focus on anything except the cool sheets under him and the hard length nearly poking out of his boxers.

He hoped Eddie would touch him when he got back. He couldn’t sleep like this.

Too on edge, too close to falling the wrong way off the cliff.

He didn’t even register when Eddie entered the room again, his thoughts stuck on how good it would feel to have Eddie’s hands on him again.

Then Eddie’s hands were on him again. They were cupping his cheeks and forcing him to make eye contact with him.

Eddie was shirtless already, straddling his lap.

Steve didn’t care how he got there, just that he was.

He couldn’t help the whine he let out when Eddie’s cock brushed against his.

Oh, he wasn’t wearing pants either.

Steve hoped this was going where he wanted it to.

“You look so beautiful like this, sweet thing. Like I could eat you right up,” Eddie said before leaning in to leave a trail of kisses down his neck.

He paused right where Steve knew his freckles were and let out a small laugh against his skin.

“These are the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

Steve whined. He needed Eddie to kiss them, kiss him, kiss anywhere. He needed his lips on him every second of every day.

As if he could read his mind, Eddie gently kissed his freckles. Steve could feel his smile against his skin.

“Please kiss me,” he let out, needy whimper following his words.

“Am kissing you, sweet thing.”

And he was. Technically. But Steve needed to taste him again, needed their mouths connected so he could feel his breath in his own lungs, taking and giving oxygen Steve so desperately wanted to give and receive.

“Need you, please,” Steve added, as if that would make Eddie do anything else. “Please, please.”

Begging was not what he thought would happen tonight, but his mouth no longer had a filter as he felt Eddie’s hips roll against him.

The friction was almost too much.

Steve was going to cum. Right there in his boxers after barely making out and like, two barely there touches against his cock.

“Love hearing you beg,” Eddie said as he trailed his lips and tongue and teeth down Steve’s chest. He licked at one of his nipples, blowing cold air on it after. Steve shivered, but not from the cold.

“Feels so good,” Steve managed to get out.

He could tell he was becoming more incoherent, his moans getting louder despite Eddie hardly doing anything at all to him. He’d be embarrassed if he didn’t know how hard Eddie was above him.

Suddenly, Eddie’s lips were back on his own. He sighed into it, relief at being given what he wanted letting him relax further into the bed.

The relief only lasted for a moment, though.

Eddie was pulling away and laying down next to Steve.

No.

“No,” Steve said, turning his head to pout at him. “More.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him.

“That doesn’t sound very polite, Stevie. I can’t give you what you want if you don’t ask nicely,” Eddie sounded bored. Was he bored?

No, he wouldn’t have gone from interest to bored that quickly. Would he?

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You listening?”

“Mhm.”

“Good boy. You’re gonna get on my lap and you’re gonna get yourself off. No hands.” Steve was already moving, but Eddie put his hand on his chest to hold him still. “No boxers. You use your safe word if it gets too much.”

Steve didn’t know how this could be too much, but he was too far gone to do anything but agree.

“Okay.”

Eddie removed his hand and didn’t stop Steve this time when he got up and straddled Eddie’s thighs, the reverse position they’d been in before giving Steve a head rush. He helped push Steve’s boxers off, holding him steady when his legs nearly gave out when he kicked them off.

Eddie didn’t touch him at first, letting Steve find the position that worked best for him and watching as he tried to find the perfect level of contact.

He couldn’t though.

“Oh, sweet thing, you can’t get it right can you?”

Steve whined and shook his head, feeling tears of frustration building behind his eyes.

“You want me to help you?”

“Please, yes, help,” Steve got out between pants.

Eddie’s hands were on his hips, warmth spreading from the place they touched Steve’s skin throughout his body. His grip was strong, nearly leaving fingerprint bruises in his skin. Steve wished he would.

“More.”

“More what?”

“Fingers. Harder.”

Finding the right words was hard. Steve was doing all he could to keep his eyes locked on Eddie’s face, vision going a bit blurry from the cloudiness in his head.

Eddie understood though.

His fingers gripped harder, and Steve knew he’d be done for soon regardless of the friction on his cock.

“You want help getting started, sweet thing?”

“Mhm. Mmm,” Steve was incoherent. He knew it, but he couldn’t do anything but let Eddie have full control.

Eddie used his strong grip to move Steve’s hips back and forth a few times, the feeling of Steve’s bare cock against Eddie’s clothed one nearly enough to send him over the edge right away.

He was moaning uncontrollably.

“I’m not doing it all for you,” Eddie said, letting go of Steve’s hips and watching as Steve stuttered in his movements. “C’mon. You were so desperate for it before.”

Steve didn’t think about how he was naked and Eddie wasn’t, how his dripping cock was getting Eddie’s boxers messy, how Eddie was smirking at him as he struggled to keep up the pace Eddie had started.

He only thought about how he had to get relief and make Eddie proud of him for doing what he asked.

Steve’s hips moved back and forth, rolling down every time he pushed forward so he could feel Eddie’s length against his own.

It was too much and not enough and Steve didn’t know how long he could keep this up.

Eddie was watching him, talking him through it, but not touching him.

“That’s it, sweet thing. Doing so good for me,” Eddie let out a moan when he started moving faster. “That’s it, sweetheart. Making me feel so fucking good.”

Steve wasn’t even registering his own pleasure anymore, only able to hear the way Eddie’s words were getting breathier, moans louder.

“Gonna cum for me? Want you to make me messy, sunshine. C’mon,” Eddie started tilting his hips up to meet Steve every time he rolled his hips down.

It was so much.

There was nothing but Eddie. His voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket as Steve felt the pull in his stomach letting him know he was close.

“Mm, Eddie, Eddie-“ Steve was babbling and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t care. He didn’t think Eddie did either. “Gonna. Gonna be good.”

Eddie let out a loud moan and sat up enough to kiss Steve’s lips.

Steve was done for.

He came so hard he almost couldn’t even feel it, the pleasure making his vision go black and his body go numb.

He could feel Eddie rut against him a few more times before he let out a groan.

He couldn’t open his eyes to see, but he knew Eddie must’ve finished too.

“So good, sunshine. Did so good for me, can’t believe I’m so lucky,” Eddie was whispering into his ear, soft breaths making Steve shiver against him.

Steve felt Eddie moving him so he was laying down in bed.

Then cold air shocked him into opening his eyes and letting out a pained whimper.

“Shhh, sweet thing. Just grabbing a washcloth. Gotta clean you up and take care of you, yeah? You did so good for me,” Eddie said as he pecked a kiss to his forehead.

Steve wasn’t quite floating now, but he recognized that he’d been on the cusp of it before Eddie walked away. He still wasn’t aware of most of what was going on, just that he’d never felt so good in his life and he hadn’t even had hands on him.

Whatever Eddie had done to take Steve apart was incredible.

When Eddie came back with the washcloth and gently wiped his stomach and chest, Steve tried to speak.

“Love that,” was all he was capable of, but it was a start. Eddie would get the gist of it.

“I’m glad. Loved doing that with you,” Eddie said softly as he got into bed next to Steve. He immediately pulled Steve on top of him, and Steve nearly gasped at Eddie being naked under him. “Feeling okay?”

Steve nodded against his chest.

He’d never felt better.

As he drifted to sleep to Eddie’s soft whispers, Steve thought about how he could possibly love someone so much so quickly.

Chapter 7

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine @bejeweledbaby @bisexualdisastersworld @eddiemunsonswife @sadcanadianwinter @messrs-weasley @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch @maya-custodios-dionach @sleepyboosstuff @novelnovella @jestyzesty @f1ct1onwh0re @croatoan-like-its-hot @adaydreamaway08 @shrimply-a-menace @crazyhatlady86 @izzy2210 @phirex22 @crypticcorvidinacottage @yourebuckingkiddingme @sydthekid2004 @lovelylilbadone @abydell921 @wildflower-faun @lydi-cyan

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #grumpy sunshine trope #tattoo artist eddie munson #guidance counselor steve harrington #dom eddie munson #sub steve harrington #ao3fic #myfic #chapter 6

[doggoboigaugau]

Stray dog (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Long story short: my old acc got terminated for no reason so I'm reposting all this💀👍

Summary: Soap invited Male Reader to join Ghost and his favorite documentaries about dinosaur fossils :D (Ghost very loves dinosaurs y'all cannot tell me otherwise).

Word count: 1950

Warnings: Nothing. It's all fluff this time.

You lost track of time and ended up stopping only when your whole body screamed at you to rest. Looking up from the training gears, you realized that there was no one left in the room. It was a habit of you to ignore everyone and everything surrounding you when it is not necessary, or maybe it’s more like a coping mechanism, since this little tricky skill prevented you from taking in redundant information, such as a close group of men joking around with each other.

This very common sight in the military and especially in the training ground always succeeded in rendering you uncomfortable, and a vague but stingy feeling prevails over your chest, sometimes so badly that it even made breathing difficult.

No matter how hard you tried to brush it aside, dismissing it as something trivial and irrelevant, you knew damn well the cause of it: You once wished to belong to a group of friends that were so close that you all would spend time doing everything together, going on mission, training, drinking, and getting drunk together at the bar. Obviously, it had never happened. It never would, judging from how every time it was only you who got left behind, drowning yourself in overpriced alcohol and your own overwhelming emotions.

It was pitch black outside as you left the training centre. You dragged your fatigued body back to the base of your Task Force, but surprisingly, in contrast to your current physical state, your mind felt empty for now. In a good way. No burdening streams of thoughts, not a single fuck given about how others saw you. You felt kind of free.

‘Guess it’s a good point for not being around people.’ On your sweat-strained face drew a genuine smile. Some people would think that it was weird to smile over something like this, not having any close people around you and just spending your entire day loitering around, doing something you considered to be productive but by no means enjoyable. To them, you were not living a life. You were only surviving through it.

Not that you would complain though. Nor were you in the position to be able to complain about it.

Your blurred vision and the dull pain in your chest reminded you that you hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, which was almost 10 hours ago. Slowly making your way to the kitchen, you decided to turn a blind eye to the kitchen sink and approached the fridge, hoping that they’d be kind enough to leave you some leftovers.

What greeted you in the fridge confounded you as you looked at a carefully prepared dish wrapped in aluminum foil with a sticky pink note on top of it.

‘want to call ya 4 dinner earlier but ya seem to enjoy the training a lot. plz eat this when ya done with the training~’ was written on the piece of paper together with a little ugly and distorted heart shape, which made you chuckle. It was not difficult to guess who left this for you. You shook your head in amusement while putting the dish into the microwave oven.

Sitting down at the empty table in the dimly lit dining room, you slowly enjoyed the meal that Soap had saved for you. Then again, amid the quiet atmosphere that was free of any stimulations, your mind began to do the thing that it excelled in, drifting away. Your unusually calm thoughts appeared like a grainy film rolling before your eyes, replaying every delightful moment that you had shared with the Scottish and other team members, like when you, Soap, Gaz, and Roach pulled a whole prank on Price during your team’s vacation while Ghost sat behind and watched with amusement in his eyes. Or when you and Roach hid one of Price’s hats unknowing that it was a piece of memorabilia of his old teammate, and as result, making that poor old dad all stressed out finding it everywhere. Or when Price decided to catch you two and make you face the consequences of your actions that time and you were so scared that you never run that fast out of battle before. Or when you had no choice but to hide behind Ghost as he was watching his favorite boring documentaries, and he looked down at you obviously contemplating whether he should help you or not as you tried to convince him with your big puppy eyes. Or when you disobeyed Price’s orders to turn back and save Soap when he fell into the enemy’s trap and was pushed into the corner.

You laughed to yourself at this point, remembering vividly what a mess that time was. You two almost blindly fired your guns at the swarm of enemies circling you. As you barely escaped, Soap cursed very loudly in Scottish while his hand threw bombs toward your enemies. It was a mission that you would never forget, a piece of memory that you’d take to the grave, not only because of how badly injured you were and the prolonged period of time you had to spend in the hospital, but also because of how Soap looked at you. After that near-death experience, whenever your eyes and his met, his eyes evidently softened, and you enjoyed every little second of it. It made you feel like, eventually, you were special to someone, like you weren’t just anybody, but someone unique that was closely linked to a hardly forgettable remembrance. It raised your hope–something that you had thought to never regain, since at least when you died, there would still be one person who would keep the image of you inside one of their billion fragments of memory.

Of course, after the certain mission, both you and Soap were heavily reprimanded by Kate and Price, you for the obvious reason of disobeying orders, and Soap for his stupid addiction to blowing things up, which worsened you two’s already horrendous injuries because at the time of the explosion you were still too close to the spot.

“What are you smiling about?” You jumped at the sudden voice that broke the room’s silence.

Soap laughed at your reaction, “Why are you so tense?” He sat down, being so near to you that your thighs touched each other. He threw his big muscular arm over your shoulder, grinning broadly, “Temme, what is so fun that you smile like that?”

“It’s nothing.” You blushed at how close you two were, silently praying that the light of the room was too feeble for him to notice.

He pinched your face, causing you to grimace, “I don’t believe ya. It’s so rare to see ya smile so cutely like this. Must have some special reason.”

Definitely you could not tell him that you were thinking of the team, and especially him, so you decided to keep silent and enjoy your meal. Maintaining eye contact was like torture to you, so your eyes were just glued to the plate until you finished. Therefore, you also missed his eyes, along with how he looked at you.

From Soap’s point of view, all that he could see at that moment was how lovely his boy was. The way his big puppy eyes widened when he suddenly talked. The way his body which was athletic but so slender when compared to Soap’s trembled slightly as he jumped. How the faint blush quickly deepened and then spread from his handsome adorable face to his delicate neck. The nice and warm feeling that Soap’s fingers felt when he pinched the boy’s cheek. And also how his long eyelashes shadowed his eyes as he looked down at his plate of food. It was so lovely that Soap volunteered to be trapped in this moment forever.

As you’d done eating and washing the dish, you came back into the dining room and saw Soap still sitting there.

The Scot chuckled at your expression, “What is that face, Y/n? Are you that annoyed because I’m still here?”

You unknowingly pouted, which only made you look even cuter in his eyes, “No.”

“Ghost is watching his stupid boring documentaries again. Wanna join?”

“You came here from the TV room?”

“Yeah. Now do you come or not?”

You scoffed, “Are you inviting me nicely or just gonna coerce me into it anyway?”

Soap didn’t reply, just amusingly shrugged his shoulders.

“Fine, I’ll come.”

“That’s my boy!” The older man approached you, then threw his arm over your shoulder again. Judging from how you barely kept up with his pace in this awkward position, he definitely coerced you into this by all means.

When you two arrived, the light in the TV room was turned off, and the only source of light left was the TV screen. Ghost was sitting on the sofa alone, eyes glued to the screen that was playing some kind of dinosaur fossils, while Price was sleeping in his favorite spot–the single couch. You swiftly looked around to see if Gaz and Roach were here or not, only to find the two idiots hugging each other on the carpet, drooling and snoring loudly.

Ghost turned his head to look at you and Soap as you were literally pushed into the room by the Scot. His out-of-nowhere eagerness strangely made you laugh.

“Daddy chill.” You jokingly said and sat down beside Ghost, completely overlooking how Soap’s flippant expressions froze for brief seconds.

“Finished your dinner?” Ghost suddenly spoke up.

You were taken aback simply because the masked man hardly ever cared what others were doing with their life outside of missions, particularly for some trivial things like taking care of your daily needs.

“Y-yes, Sir!”

Soap burst into laughter, so hard that he fell to your side, hugging his belly.

“LMAO! What was that, Y/n??? You’re scared of Ghost that much???”

“What? What???” You frowned in confusion. You were even more confused when you heard a soft chuckle from the masked man that was sitting on your left.

“Why are you two laughing? There’s nothing funny!”

“It is funny! Do you see how you shudder like a puppy under Ghost’s glare? I wish I had recorded it!”

“Gosh! I hate you Soap!” You growled under your breath as you launched your whole body into him while Soap was still barely able to put himself together from his stupid sense of humor.

You two soon began to fight each other, giggling like two mischievous kids, completely forgetting that there was Ghost right next to you, who probably got accidental punches and kicks continuously by the unaware manchildren. However, the masked man was not mad at you two for disturbing him from enjoying his favorite show at all; instead, he often stole glances at you two with pure delight in his eyes. Seeing you finally being able to relax among the team was a sight that he wanted to witness all his life. It would take more time for you to pull down the walls you had built around yourself and let them come inside, but for now, this was already enough.

After a while, the giggling and fighting noises abated. You were sleeping soundly, face on Soap’s broad chest and arms around his waist. Soap’s eyes softened as he looked at how peaceful you were at the moment, before looking up to meet Ghost’s. The two men stayed in their position, didn’t move an inch, until Soap fell his eyelids become heavier and fell asleep as well, and Ghost turned off the TV, thereby extinguishing the only source of light in the room. He rested his head on your lower back, slowly drifting off.

To be continued...

#cod x male reader #ghost x male reader #soap x male reader #male reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod roach #terminate my acc once more time i'll kys #cod angst #depression #mention of trauma #fluff #cod fluff #ghost loves dinosaurs #soap is simping over male reader #uwu #price is a tired dad #i need to stop messing with price lmao #💀💀💀 #ghost cod #soap cod #ghost mw2 #gay #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty mw2 #ghostsoap #stray dog

[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Chapter 6

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things. Word Count: 4,257

Cheong-san plunged the edge of the phone into his left eye and he screamed in agony. While distracted with his pain, Cheong-san followed his instinct and threw him into the mob below.

Please forgive me, (Y/n)...

You had sat in the same spot for about 10 minutes when you decided you had gotten tired of sitting still and needed to move around a bit, even if you just paced back and forth. You’d figured out when you first came in here that the wild piano playing was from a young girl trapped underneath the piano on the other side of the room. She was a zombie, of course, and you couldn't help from feeling bad about how she’d been unable to even have a chance at escaping.

You’d been pacing for so long the wooden floor was starting to have skid marks from your rubber soles on it. You thought of different plans desperately, trying to find one that would be able to get you out of this situation and back to your friends.

Back to Su-hyeok.

You couldn’t believe it when you heard the door open, fearing the worst and not bothering to turn around even when you heard the soft and hesitant footsteps.

“(Y/n)?” The voice said and you swiftly turned around to see Cheong-san there with a hesitant and terrified face. Once he’d realized you weren’t a zombie, his face transformed from one of being terrified to one of extreme relief with a hint of guilt for some reason. He rushed toward you and brought you into a hug that you instinctually returned. He held you tightly in a friendly embrace upon your reunion and you held him back just as tightly, glad that even if you couldn’t completely keep your promise to On-jo, he came out safe and sound.

At least you thought so.

You pulled away and looked him over, turning him around so you could see his back and then back around again when you realized he was indeed safe with no serious injuries or worse, bite marks.

“Oh, thank god,” he exclaimed as he also looked you over to see you were safe. “I was so worried I’d lost you forever there.”

“Yeah, to be honest, me too. I wasn’t sure if I would make it out alive and I have no idea how I was able to make it here without getting hurt. How about you? How the hell did you make it here? I thought you went downstairs?” You interrogated and slapped his arm at his stupid actions.

He took a deep breath before determination set on his face and he stared you directly in the eyes. “(Y/n), I need to tell you something-”

A soft squealing noise from the speakers interrupted him and you both looked at it in confusion. After a few seconds, you heard voices coming through

“Anyone?” A voice that sounded like Joon-yeong sounded out softly.

“I've never done it before,” a voice like Dae-su’s called out and a smile grew onto your face at the sound of your new friends’ bantering.

“Somebody do it. Dae-su?” Another voice spoke, this one more feminine and sounding like either On-jo or Hyo-ryung.

“Here goes nothing… Uh, mic test. One, two. One, two. Cheong-san and (Y/n), are you there? We-”

“What are you doing?” A voice that you recognized instantly as Su-hyeok’s spoke and the grin on your face faded to a small smile of relief. It seemed like so long ago that you had heard him even if it was maybe only an hour ago.

“Hey, (Y/n), Cheong-san, do you hear us?”

“It's Su-hyeok,” you spoke softly and Cheong-san gave you a smile.

“It's Su-hyeok,” Su-hyeok repeated and you and Cheong-san laughed a little at the coincidence. “We'll come to you, so stay put. Got it?”

“Hell no, not happening-”

“Don't come, moron. You're gonna get bit-”

You and Cheong-san spoke at the same time, protesting to the speakerphone.

“I know what the both of you will say, but we can't hear you here.”

“What the hell are you doing, Bare-su?” Cheong-san whispered and you just shook your head as you walked towards the door, looking through the window to see if it was clear.

“So don't go anywhere. Wait for us. You really can't go anywhere, okay? We'll come now.”

Just as you were about to open the door, seeing that there were no zombies nearby for the time being, his next words stopped you in your tracks like a deer in headlights.

“(Y/n). I know you’re stubborn and never take any of my advice, but please. Please stay where you’re at. For me?” He whispered the last part and you leaned your forehead against the glass of the sliding door, debating with yourself on which you would do: stay and wait for the group, or go to them.

You didn’t really get any say in the matter when a zombie suddenly ran up to the door and slammed against it, its blood covered mouth smearing along the glass.

“Yeah, nope…” You concluded and went over to take a seat on one of the chairs in the room. You ignored the rest of what the group was unintentionally saying into the microphone and laid your head down when suddenly On-jo spoke directly to Cheong-san.

“Cheong-san. Please stay still. I know you never listen to me, but please do it this time.”

You saw Cheong-san stop in his tracks from where he too was about to open the door and run out. He walked over to sit next to you and you both sat in a comfortable silence.

“Time for meditation,” a sudden and unfamiliar voice interrupted the silence and you shot up, confused.

Tranquil music started playing and your confusion turned into an amused smile.

“Once again, another fun day at school,” you laughed at the voice and leaned your face on one of your hands while the other wrapped itself around your waist.

“Everyone, close your eyes… and calm your hearts.”

You turned around to look at Cheong-san and immediately bursted out laughing at the annoyed smile he had on his face.

“They couldn’t have picked any better music?” He asked with distaste.

“Aw, come on Cheong-san, you don’t wanna meditate?” You teased and sat on one of the desks with your legs crossed and your hands placed palm up on your knees. “Let us meditate together, my young padawan.”

“You’re so stupid,” he laughed and you pouted at him before falling backwards so you were lying down on the desks.

“Yeah? We’ll you’re just an ultra big meanie,” you insulted childishly and flipped him off which he snorted at.

You suddenly heard a bunch of growling and shot up again, getting back on your guard as you saw dozens of zombies run down the hallways towards the corridor speaker.

“Now that’s why they did it! That’s smart,” you complimented and Cheong-san nodded in agreement.

You sat there for a minute until the door burst open and the group came trampling in.

“Oh, shit,” Dae-su exclaimed as he walked over to where the two of you were and pulled you both in for a hug. “Where were you guys? Idiots.”

“Where's On-jo?” Cheong-san asked worriedly and seconds later the girl came rushing in. “On-jo!” Cheong-san shoved himself out of Dae-su’s arms so he could rush towards her and Dae-su focused his energy on squeezing the life out of you.

“(Y/n)! I never would have thought I would miss your glare so much!” He cried out dramatically and you laughed as you returned the hug, basking in the embrace of a friend.

“How did you guys know we were here?” You heard Cheong-san ask and turned around just in time to see him get kicked in the back of the knees by On-jo.

“I told you not to go! Why don't you ever listen to me?” She complained with a voice ready to start crying.

“Hey, save the lovers' quarrel for later,” Dae-su stopped the argument and went over to help lift Cheong-san up.

“Let's go!” Wu-jin directed, panting to get his breath.

“Where?” You asked, still stuck on how they even knew where you and Cheong-san were.

“We have to get to the roof before the meditation music ends.”

You looked behind On-jo in worry as you didn’t see either of your best friends anywhere in sight.

“Let's go. Hurry!” Dae-su urged but you stopped their movements when you spoke.

“Wait! Where’s Nam-ra and Su-hyeok? They were with you guys… right? Where are they now?”

On-jo looked stunned, just now realizing the same thing as you but you didn’t wait for her to react as you quickly opened the door and rushed outside.

“Where are you going?” Cheong-san anxiously asked as you rushed out.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Dae-su called out after you as both he and Cheong-san ran after your retreating form.

You stopped running and sighed in relief when you saw Nam-ra and Su-hyeok running down the hall, Nam-ra holding her arm in pain and Su-hyeok running behind her to make sure she didn’t fall behind with blood splattered across his face.

“Are you crazy? Don't go by yourself!” Cheong-san commanded when he and the group caught up to you.

Your look of relief vanished as you saw the concern and sternness on both of their faces as they came closer.

“Go in! Go inside!” Su-hyeok demanded and everyone turned around to see the zombies that had once gathered at the speaker were now chasing toward them.

“Shit! Go back!” You yelled.

“They're coming!” Dae-su yelled as he ran back into the classroom, everyone following close behind with Su-hyeok to be the last one there and the one who closed the door behind him.

“They can still see us!” You expressed nervously and speedily ran towards one of the curtains that hung across the wall with the doors in the room.

“Yes! The curtains. Come on!” Joon-yeong told everyone and they all ran to cover the windows with the curtains before pausing to take a deep breath of relief.

Nam-ra ran towards the windows facing the outside and closed those curtains before turning towards where the zombie stuck under the piano was.

“There's a zombie there,” you started as you walked towards her. “Don’t worry, though, it’s caught under a piano, so it can’t go anywhere.”

She nodded and you brought her into your arms for a tight hug. She sighed against your shoulder and you squeezed her harder before letting her go and giving her a tight smile. The both of you leaned back against two desks with your hands interlocked as the group started talking again.

“We can't… go to the roof…” Hyo-ryung stated sadly and your head turned to her. “We're trapped again, aren't we?” Although the sentence was a question, it was stated like a fact.

“There are zombies out there, so…” Su-hyeok started to explain and your eyes locked, you could feel your eyes burn by how he looked at you; with so much pain and regret and guilt and relief that you couldn’t handle it. You smiled at him before turning your head back so it was facing forward. “Let's just think a little.”

“This is so annoying,” you heard Nam-ra whisper irritatedly from beside you and you rubbed your thumb over her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her while also comforting yourself.

After a few beats of silence, only interrupted by the group’s heavy breathing, Hyo-ryung suddenly stood up and she looked at you and Nam-ra, horrified.

“Hey. Hey, Nam-ra,” she started and your gaze finally found its way to her face. “What happened to your arm?” She pointed towards your best friend’s arm while backing up. “That's a bite mark, isn't it?”

As everyone started to stand up and back away from the two of you, you just looked down at where her “bite” was and sure enough there was a bite there. Not moving or letting go of her in any way, you just stared at the bite in silence, biting your lip as tears sprung in your eyes and your nose stung.

“No. No, no, no. Please no! I can’t lose you!” You whispered as you begged whatever god was listening to hear your prayers and leaned your forehead onto Nam-ra’s shoulder. Su-hyeok came rushing up to defend her when Cheong-san charged forward with a music stand in his hands.

“No. That’s not it,” he tried to explain but Cheong-san was insistent.

“Move. Step back, Su-hyeok.”

“That's not it, asshole,” Su-hyeok explained harshly again and turned back to Nam-ra who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder to comfort you.

“Tell him. You weren't bitten by a zombie,” he begged her but she stayed silent. Your tears subsided as you heard him say that and now you just looked confused. “Say something!” From out of your eyesight, Dae-su and Wu-jin had snuck towards you and ripped you out of Nam-ra’s grasp, holding onto you tightly as you thrashed to go back to her.

As Su-hyeok stepped towards you at your cries in order to help, you saw Cheong-san dash forward with the music stand again and you screamed. “No!”

Su-hyeok rushed back to stand in front of Nam-ra and stop Cheong-san from delivering any blows.

“Gwi-nam! He bit her. It wasn’t zombies,” he explained. Your struggles died down in surprise and you just gaped at him in a state of shock.

“Who?” Cheong-san asked in confusion.

“Gwi-nam. The bully.”

“Yoon Gwi-nam?”

“Yeah,” Su-hyeok confirmed and Cheong-san turned to Nam-ra.

“Nam-ra. Did Gwi-nam really bite you?” She shot a glance at you but you didn’t notice from how you continued to stare at the boy who brought the heartbreaking and unbelievable news to you all. She nodded slightly.

“Say it clearly,” Cheong-san demanded.

“It’s true,” Su-hyeok had confirmed in Nam-ra’s stead since she was continuing to remain quiet.

“Gwi-nam was bitten by zombies,” Cheong-san told him and he scoffed in disbelief.

“Bullshit.”

“I saw him get bit. If you get bitten by zombies, you turn into one,” he explained what all of you already knew as if Su-hyeok had forgotten it. “So if Gwi-nam bit her-”

“He's not one of them!” Su-hyeok yelled and the zombies behind the curtains started growling louder and banging on the doors and windows. “Gwi-nam wasn't a zombie,” he stated more quietly but still in a stern and convinced tone. “He wasn’t. He literally talked to me,” he turned to Nam-ra for help but she hadn’t taken her eyes off of you. “You saw him. He wasn't a zombie at all.”

…

…

…

“What?”

Your soft voice cut through the air like a knife and everyone’s attention turned to you where you were still held onto by Dae-su even after you had stopped struggling. Su-hyeok and Cheong-san both looked at you with guilty eyes filled with remorse and regret.

“My brother did this? My brother bit you?” You asked as you looked at Nam-ra and she looked devastated. “A-and he’s… he’s a zombie?” You continued as tears streaked down your cheeks unwillingly. You turned to Cheong-san. “You saw him get bit? When was that? Why didn’t you tell me?” You let out, your breathing staggering and growing uneven as you continued to mentally comprehend all the information that was thrown at you in the past 2 minutes.

Su-hyeok let out a sigh of anger and regret. He couldn’t believe he had said all those things in front of you with no hesitation or tenderness. He carefully walked over to you and Dae-su let you go. Your knees buckled from the overwhelming sensation of your emotions rampaging but Su-hyeok caught you in his arms just in time before you fell. He whispered apologies into your hair as your tears soaked through his blazer despite how your body showed no other signs of you crying.

Nam-ra turned back to look at Cheong-san before standing up. “Are you sure he was bitten by a zombie?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his eyes only flickering away from you for a second to answer her question.

“So I'll turn into a zombie,” she concluded.

“No!” You screamed out and left Su-hyeok’s arms to rush over to her, grabbing her upper arms and squeezing as you looked her dead in the eyes. “You won’t. Su-hyeok said that Gw...” you stopped when your voice broke. “That he wasn’t a zombie, at least not a full zombie,” you turned around to look at the group, specifically at Cheong-san. “I’m not saying you’re a liar but I also believe that Su-hyeok had seen him and he wasn’t a zombie. She won’t turn. She won’t. I know it,” you stated confidently.

Nam-ra grabbed your hand and squeezed it, getting your attention and turning you back towards her. “(Y/n)...” She brought you into a proper hug and you sobbed once. “Thank you… I’ll never forget your friendship,” she whispered in your ear before pushing you away gently and walking towards the classroom door.

“Nam… please!” You begged and she stopped in the middle of the room, turning back to look at you.

“I always loved that nickname,” she turned back around to walk towards the door but you rushed forward to grab her hand.

“You won’t turn. You won’t,” you told her as convincingly as possible before wiping your tears aggressively and walking back towards the group, dragging her behind you as she struggled to free herself from your grip. You elbowed Su-hyeok lightly to continue with his defense and he started immediately.

“She won't turn into one. Don't you trust me?”

“I saw when Gwi-nam got bitten,” Cheong-san’s eyes flittered to you as he spoke and they were filled with guilt that seemed to increase with every pass over your face. “It happened after fighting with me.”

“I fought him, too. Believe me,” Su-hyeok grabbed your free hand with one of his own as he spoke and squeezed three times, the usual thing you two did to non-verbally express an apology. “I know.”

Squeezing Su-hyeok’s hand tightly, you shook him off and dragged Nam-ra over to the window where you yanked open the curtains and opened one of the windows, turning back around to face the group, your hand still holding onto hers.

“There. Problem solved. If she turns I’ll just push her out of the window and none of you will be harmed in the process. Okay? So put the fucking music stand down and back the fuck off,” you told all of them with a sharp glare.

“(Y/n),” Nam-ra tugged on your hand and brought your attention down to her. “You shouldn’t do this.”

You gaped at her, mouth opened slightly in slight disbelief. “Nam-ra. You are my best friend. Like hell am I letting you get away that easily.”

Your slight joke fell upon deaf ears as your serious tone covered it up.

“(Y/n),” you heard Cheong-san say to you and so you turned back to him.

“Back the fuck up.”

He lifted the music stand so he was holding it like a baseball bat and you glared at him, an act that unfortunately had no effect on him.

“I’m warning you, Cheong-san. Don’t come any closer,” you threatened but he just shot you back a glare of his own as his eyes filled with protectiveness.

“Screw you, (Y/n). I warned you first. Gyeong-su was enough, I won’t lose any more friends.”

You took a deep breath before spitting out your words with venom coating your tongue.

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing we’re not friends. Isn’t it, Cheong-san?”

His glare hardened and he rolled his eyes. “You and I both know that fact has changed over the past day. You’ve made friends with everyone here no matter what you want to believe. We all care for you, which is exactly the reason why I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.”

“Well too fucking bad, because you can’t fucking stop me,” you told him, not bothering to speak about any of the previous things, knowing you would lose that argument.

“Get out of my way,” he demanded.

“Cheong-san, stop it,” Su-hyeok tried.

“Get out of my way!” he yelled again but your hold just tightened on Nam-ra’s hand while you stayed silent.

Su-hyeok pushed Cheong-san away and they started shoving each other when Nam-ra suddenly screamed out, “Stop it, both of you!”

They pushed each other away as both of them turned back to look at the two of you.

“If I feel strange in any way… I'll just end it quickly.”

You wiped away the stray tear that fell from your eyes at her words.

“Sorry, but-” Cheong-san started, about to convey more doubts about her condition until she interrupted him.

“No need to be sorry. I'm actually not sorry, not at all.”

“... sorry,” he continued and looked down in shame.

“Su-hyeok,” Nam-ra called out to him. “Kill me if I turn,” she turned to look at you. “I know you won’t be able to.”

“Hey, wait!” You called to her and tried to yank her back as she hopped up to sit on the ledge of the window but she just pulled your hands into her lap while her free one was holding onto the window frame to support her balance.

After a while, when you were leaning against the window and rubbing your fingers against the knuckles of Nam-ra’s hand while avoiding the eyes of Su-hyeok, you felt other eyes on you. You turned to look at Nam-ra only to see her staring intently at your neck. You smiled sadly as you knew what most likely was happening and not wanting to accept it.

“Nam?”

She grabbed your neck and pulled you closer to her just as you saw Cheong-san rush towards the both of you.

“(Y/n)!”

You turned your body so you were standing in front of Nam-ra to prevent her from receiving the blow, intending to take it yourself. You clenched your eyes tightly and waited for the pain to come but when the sound of the music stand hitting somebody’s body came, you felt nothing.

“Get out of the way!” Cheong-san yelled from behind you and you turned to see him with the music stand still in his hands except now it was broken and the top piece was across the room.

“Stop it!” Su-hyeok yelled at him from his place right in front of you where he was behind you just seconds before, and you finally connected the dots.

Su-hyeok took the blow for you.

Just as Cheong-san rushed forward, intending to strike again, Su-hyeok charged at him and slammed him on his back against a desk while raising a clenched fist in the air as a threat. “I said to stop it!”

“Stupid asshole!” Cheong-san yelled back and punched him in the face, successfully getting him off of him as they tussled around the room. You quickly moved to help Nam-ra as she weakly fell from the window sill and sat her into a chair while the boys fought on the other side of the room.

She breathed heavily and clenched her eyes shut as if fighting off something in her head. You heard different voices yelling over each other as they tried to break up the fight and turned back to see On-jo standing in front of the two of you and Su-hyeok holding Cheong-san back.

“Get out of my way! Let go of me!” He screamed as he resisted.

“Stop it. Are you blind? Look at Nam-ra,” On-jo surprised you as she defended your best friend. “She would have blood on her mouth if she bit her. Does she?” There was a pregnant pause as everyone looked at Nam-ra. “And she's not bleeding, right?” She defended more.

“It's true. There's no wound,” Dae-su pointed out as everyone then looked to you, no blood or wound from a bite anywhere on your body.

“But if Gwi-nam bit her-” Cheong-san started again.

“She's still fine, which means you'll be fine,” On-jo’s eyes shifted down to where he still held tightly to the music stand. “Come on, put that down. Stop being stubborn.”

The boy started to shake Su-hyeok off as he was still holding him. “Let go. I got it. Let go. Fuck,” he groaned.

“Why won't you drop that?” On-jo insisted.

“That's my business,” he told her and she rolled her eyes before turning to crouch down beside the two of you.

“Are you okay?” She questioned Nam-ra who stared forward blankly.

“Why do you care?”

“What?”

“It's just… it’s weird,” you started. “You've always hated us, so why are you suddenly starting to care now?”

On-jo looked down, “Sometimes, I still do,” she looked back up to stare you directly in the eye with an empathetic look. “But what's wrong is wrong.”

“She seems fine. Let's…” Wu-jin voiced after a silence once again settled over the group.

“She would've definitely turned by now,” reasoned Joon-yeong.

“No,” Nam-ra stated and stood up, you following her soon after to help her keep her balance while standing up straight, your hands separating in the process. “I'm not okay. I wanted to bite (Y/n).”

You stared at her in silence with a sad smile, knowing she was right and not being able to refute her words in any way.

“I really did,” she said again, still looking straight ahead, unable to meet your eyes. “I wanted to bite her.”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Cheong-san asked stupidly and you would have mocked him in any other circumstance.

“I mean… I wanted to bite her.

~~~

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

~~~

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#all of us are dead #aouad #suhyeok #lee suhyeok #lee su-hyeok #lee cheongsan #lee cheong-san #onjo #nam onjo #nam on-jo #all of us are dead suhyeok

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 13

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 ao3 link

*Eddie*

When Eddie woke to a cold empty bed he immediately knew something was wrong. 

Which was silly, right? It was only the second time he and Steve had spent the night together in the same bed, so how did he know that the other boy wasn’t just an early riser, or one of those people that had to get right up once they were awake?

Because he just knew. 

In the same way that he knew so many other things that he really shouldn't, he knew that Steve was a lingerer, that he loved the feeling of being wrapped up, warm and cozy, and would stay in bed to the last possible second just to enjoy it for as long as he could.

Still, Eddie hadn’t yet learned to trust himself, his other senses, his instincts, his powers, whatever you wanted to call it, so he pushed the feeling down and tried to unwind the panic coiling in his chest. It was very early in the morning, he could tell by the quality of light coming in through the window. There was no need to wake everyone up in a panic– yet.

He tiptoed out into the living room, rightly assuming that all the boys would still be asleep, though uncle Wayne was no longer sprawled out on the couch. He checked the bathroom first, its door wide open revealing the obviously empty space, and a quick peek next into the girl’s room told him what he already expected. Steve wasn’t in there either. 

He closed the door softly and rounded the corner leading to the kitchen, where Wayne sat nursing a cup of coffee. 

He looked up in surprise at Eddie’s arrival, no doubt wondering why the hell he was up at this god-forsaken hour.

“Have you seen Steve?” Eddie asked, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Wayne shook his head, carefully setting his mug down on the table as he studied Eddie’s face. “I ain't been up long, don’t panic,” he added quickly. “Maybe he’s out front.”

Eddie nodded but found himself hesitating to move, almost afraid to check. Until he actually looked outside and got confirmation of his fears, he could pretend that everything was okay, that Steve had just stepped out for some air, and would be coming back inside any minute, but that thing is the back of his mind was still screaming at him that something was wrong, and it had only gotten louder since he first woke. 

Despite his own easy words of reassurance, Wayne was up in a flash, and both of them shoved their feet into shoes and slung on jackets before heading outside.

Steve wasn’t on the porch. 

He wasn't anywhere in the immediate vicinity of the cabin, and it was all Eddie could do to not let the panic completely overtake him. Freaking out wouldn’t get Steve back. He had to stay calm– had to think. He needed to wake up the others and come up with a plan, now.

–

Eddie was worried at first about how they would be able to let Hopper and Claudia that something was wrong when he knew the phone in the cabin was dead, but to his relief it turned out the chief had left them with a ham radio, set to a frequency he’d be listening out for in case of emergencies. So, Wayne got on the air to let the Hop know Steve was missing, as Eddie woke everyone else and got them up to speed. 

When he was done with the boys he took a deep breath, preparing himself to face El and tell her that her brother, the person she loved and trusted most in this world, was gone without a trace. He knocked this time, waiting for the first grunt of, “come in” from what sounded like one of the older girls, before pushing open the door. 

Something must have shown on his face because Robin was instantly on her feet at the sight of him. 

“What happened, what’s wrong?” She asked.

He looked to the bed, glancing at El who was just beginning to stir from the noise, before quickly looking back at Robin, fighting not to let his face crumple. 

“It’s Steve, he’s… “

“Eddie?” El’s voice rang out thick with sleep as she rubbed her eyes. 

He crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to her. “Steve, he’s…missing, and I don't know how long he's been gone… If he left, or was taken. I just woke up and he wasn’t there and he’s…”

El sat up suddenly and threw herself into Eddie's arms just as he began to fall apart. He’d meant to put on a brave face for her, but it was all too much to think about Steve being gone again so soon after they had just found each other. 

She gripped onto him fiercely, and he held her back. More arms wrapped around them a moment later as Robin, Chrissy, and Max hugged them both, offering what comfort they could in this stolen moment before regrouping with the others to figure things out. 

-

An hour later the cabin was full to the brim. It was standing room only as Claudia, Hopper, Nancy, Jonathan, and surprisingly Joyce, all filed in. She had apparently put her foot down after the school meeting the night before and demanded that Hopper tell her what the hell was going on.

She looked a little shell shocked on arrival. Eddie sympathized, he knew the feeling. She greeted Wayne and hugged each of the younger boys before turning to him and embracing him as well. 

He stiffened for a moment before hesitantly winding his arms around her in return. He knew Joyce liked him well enough, even if it was only because he watched over the kids and kept them busy, but he was pretty sure she had never actually hugged him before. 

She pulled back and patted his arm, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Oh, honey. Hop told me everything. I just need you to know it doesn’t change the way I feel about you, not at all. You’re still one of my boys, got it?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to be able to speak.

To make matters worse, her phrasing, her acceptance of him for being– different than she’d always known, reminded him of how he and Steve had planned to come out today. To tell all of the people in this room about their relationship. The idea had been a little scary to think about at the time, but he’d give anything for that to be his biggest fear right now. 

“Alright. I think we should do one more sweep of the woods. I know Eddie and Wayne did a cursory search this morning, but now that we have more bodies we can span out a bit further in each direction. How about– “

“I can try to find him.” El said, just loud enough to be heard over him.

Everyone turned to look at her once, confusion colored the adults faces but the boys whooped, exchanging glances and smiles, likely at the prospect of getting to see her powers in action.

“Like, look look?” Eddie asked, miming the action of tying a blindfold around his face.

She nodded.

“And quiet right? You need quiet?” Mike asked.

“Yes.” She answered, but pursed her lips and quickly added, “Well, some noise. Like water, or– ”

“T.V. static?” Dustin supplied excitedly.

She brightened, smiling. “Yes, that will work.”

Eddie retrieved a bandana from his room while Dustin and Mike fiddled with television, adjusting the dial until the screen was full of snow. White noise filled the room as everyone held themselves silent and still. El sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor allowing Eddie to tie the makeshift blindfold around her eyes and block out the world. 

The minutes ticked by, two, ten, fifteen, and Eddie was starting to get antsy. The only indication El gave that anything was even happening were a few muttered sounds of frustration. At the twenty minute mark she tore the cloth from her head and threw it to the ground in front of her.

“He is nowhere!” She shouted. “I look, and I look, but it is like he is nowhere at all!”

“Maybe her radar’s broken.” Lucas suggested.

“Don’t be stupid.” Mike said. 

Dustin tapped his chin, thinking. “Maybe she should try to find someone else, just to test it.”

“She can hear you, dumbass.” Max said, smacking him so hard in the back of the head that his hat fell off. “Stop talking about her like she isn’t right there!”

“Sorry.” Dustin at least had the grace to look embarrassed.

“What about Jason?” Will said.

“Yeah!” Mike agreed. “Could be a good idea to see what he’s up to anyway.”

El shrugged and placed the bandana back over her eyes and only a minute or two after she started looking, she found him. 

“He is inside a house. There are other boys with him too, all wearing the same jacket. They’re talking about Eddie, looking for him. Jason went to find Chrissy at her house this morning but she was not there. So they think he took her.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Of course they fucking do,” he said. Not that it mattered, he had bigger problems than some blonde jock inciting a witch hunt. 

“This is such bullshit, someone needs to do something!” Mike shouted.

“Yeah, can’t you arrest him for making threats or something?” Max said, turning to Hopper.

“One problem at a time, kids,” the chief said, gruffly.

“So her radar is working, clearly.” Lucas said.

It was Dustin who finally posed the question. “But if it’s working, and she can’t find Steve, what does that mean?”

There was one very obvious answer to that question, but Eddie refused to even consider the possibility. Besides, if the unthinkable had happened, she still would have found his body… right?

Eddie crouched down next to El where she still sat on the floor. “What about the Upside Down?”

She tilted her head questioningly. 

“The other place? Where Vecna, uh, Henry is?” He explained.

A look of fear crossed her face but she smoothed it away quickly and nodded, squaring her shoulders with a renewed sense of determination. 

Almost as soon as she put the blindfold back on and had settled in for the search, her nose began gushing blood and she fell back forcefully, as if she’d been pushed.

“He is blocking me. He… forced me out.”

“Who?” Eddie asked, though he already knew the answer. 

“Henry.”

“That’s a clue in itself, isn't it?” Robin said next to him. At some point she and Chrissy had joined him on the floor for moral support.

“Vecna’s got him. That has to be it.” Dustin said.

Hopper held his hands up.  “Just, hang on a second, we don’t know that.” 

“What else could it be?” Dustin said.

Hopper blew out a long breath, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know, but just ‘cause he– kicked her out doesn’t mean– “

Eddie interrupted, tired of wasting time squabbling. “Did you mean it before, El, about my memories? You can help me get them back?”

“I think so.”

Robin laid a tentative hand on his arm, no doubt recalling his hesitancy on the subject only the day before. “Do you think that will help?” 

Eddie looked at her and sighed. “I don’t even know what I don’t know.” He said, throwing his arms up. “And at this point we’re out of time to find another leg up against this guy. If he’s got Steve, then we need to learn as much as we can so we can fight, get him back. I need to know what I'm capable of, how it works. Anything that might help.”

-

At El’s suggestion the two of them went into one of the bedrooms where it was a little quieter and more private, and she had him sit on the bed across from her so that they were facing each other. 

“Close your eyes.” She said, and he felt one of her palms pressing flat against his forehead. 

“The elevator, in the lab. The one you escaped from, picture it in your mind.”

“But I don’t remember that, I only know because Claudia said– “

She gently cut him off. “Pretend. Concentrate, let your mind make it real.” She took his hand. “I will be right here with you.”

He did his best to imagine what the elevator in a place like that might be like. Gray commercial carpeting on the floor of it, harsh fluorescent lighting at the top, its glare bouncing off the sleek cold metal walls. 

It was simple, basic, a service elevator. No muss, no fuss, no decor needed for something only the cleaning staff and a few guards were ever going to see. No need to put forth the effort to front like they did with the rest of the common areas and the main lobby, where someone of importance might catch a glimpse. 

The more he focused on the details, the more real it became, until suddenly he felt the floor below his feet vibrate. He opened his eyes and he was in the elevator. It was just as he imagined, save for the panel of buttons being on the wrong side.

His heart hammered in his chest. What was even happening right now? He started to hyperventilate, then heard Eleven’s voice echo through his mind. 

“You are safe. It is not real, it is only memory. You are safe, in the cabin with me. Promise.”

“Okay.” He said shakily, unsure if he’d said it out loud or only in his head. It didn’t seem to matter, she heard him regardless. 

The movement of the elevator stopped, a ding sounding as the doors slid open. He stepped forward expecting to find himself in a hallway but instead he was in a small room. He looked back confused, but the elevator was gone.

“Are you ready to try again, Five?” A familiar voice called from the side.

Five.

Eddie turned back and was suddenly staring down at a pair of huge brown eyes set into the thin face of a scrawny little boy dressed in clothes eerily similar to those Steve and El had been wearing when he met them at skull rock. 

He knew those eyes. Intimately. They were the same ones that looked back at him through the mirror every goddamn day.

Sitting across from the boy– the boy that was him, was a white-haired older man dressed in a sharp suit. 

Eddie shuffled backwards, desperate to get some distance between himself and this man whose mere presence made his skin crawl. Neither the man, or the child version of Eddie paid him any notice.

Right, this was a memory. They couldn’t see him. 

He couldn't hurt him, not in the present, not anymore.

Papa.

Dr. Brenner, his brain supplied, just before the little boy began to speak. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Papa. Can I go back to the rainbow room now?”

Brenner smiled at the boy but the expression screamed of faux sincerity. The corners of his mouth may have been turned up but his eyes shone brightly with disappointment. “Not until we’re done here and you can give me a clear and accurate vision.”

“I’m trying.” The boy said grumpily, slumping down in his seat. 

“Not hard enough.” Brenner said, heaving a sigh. “I think maybe I've been too soft on you, Five. Letting you play, letting you read those books you seem to like so much. It was– shortsighted of me to allow you to indulge in such fantasies. You can’t keep your head out of the clouds, that’s the problem. Your imagination is your enemy, it muddies the waters and makes your predictions unreliable”

“I said I'm trying!” Eddie shouted definitely, pounding his little fist down on the table. Everything on its surface went flying as if caught in a shockwave, papers and pens sent scattering to the floor.

And oh Eddie remembered this day. Papa had been at him for hours and he was so exhausted.

His lessons had always been very different from the others, fraught with tension. The other numbers all had powers that revolved primarily around telepathy and telekinesis, abilities that Brenner and his cronies had some familiarity with, some basis of knowledge with which to model their training after, but Eddie– Five, he was unique. The first subject in the program's history to display the powers of precognition. They wanted him powerful, badly, but no one knew quite what to do with him, how to help grow and hone his power.

Brenner, unfazed by the display, gave the boy another disappointed stare and shook his head. “You could be our greatest asset, If only you would apply yourself.”

“I do not want to be an asset! I want to play! To go outside and see what’s past the fence!”

Even as a child Eddie knew asset was really a codeword for weapon, and he didn't want to be that. He was tired of this place and its rules, knew there had to be something better out there. 

This was the day he decided he needed to escape, to take her and run.

El…

Eleven, his favorite little sister. He remembered her now– not as the girl who was sitting with him on a bed in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, but as the little girl from his childhood. She’d been having such a hard time lately. Some of the others were bullying her, had grown jealous, scared of losing Papa’s favor now that she’d shown them all how powerful she was. What she was truly capable of.

The light in the room flicked, dimmed, and the scene in front of Eddie grew dark for a moment before the light suddenly returned. 

He was in a hallway. 

A hallway littered with bodies, its walls painted with blood spatter, the sound of screams and gunfire not too far off. 

The little boy that was him suddenly ran past, heading not away from the danger but toward it, towards the sound of his brothers and sisters dying. 

He’d had a vision, a strange one, almost dream-like in its quality. He knew the orderly was planning something. He knew the man had a secret, and was pretty sure he knew what it was. Henry was like them, powerful. Papa had done something to separate Henry from that power. Eddie didn’t know all the details but he knew Henry intended to throw off his shackles if he could and escape. 

Eddie did too. And so he said nothing. He kept his eyes and ears open, figuring that when Henry made his move it would cause a significant enough distraction to allow him and Eleven to escape as well. 

Had he known…

Had he known what Henry intended to do he would have said something. He would have told Papa, would have warned everyone. 

This was all his fault. 

They were all dead, and it was all his fault.

Eddie ran after himself, catching up just as the boy burst into the rainbow room to find Henry and Eleven locked in a battle of wills, and the small girl was floating several feet up above the floor. Eddie’s heart sank, then and now.

Henry glanced from El to the boy as he entered. An odd look flashed across his face, but was gone before Eddie could decipher it, too distracted as he was by the sight of tiny, wounded Eleven. Her face was a pale ghoulish mask, blood poured from her eyes, nose, and mouth as she struggled against an invisible hold. 

The boy threw his arms around her and tugged, trying to pull her to the ground, but she would not budge.  

“Let her go!” He screamed at Henry, hands still locked around his sister's legs.

“You cannot help her now, my son, it’s too late. She made her choice. I offered for her to join me, to join us, but she refused.”

“Son?” The little boy squeaked.

“Yes, Five. I think it’s time you learned the truth about where you came from. Didn’t you ever wonder why you were so special?”

“No!” Eddie and the little boy shouted at the same time, the boy’s head shaking back and forth furiously. 

This wasn’t a memory it was a fucking nightmare. 

Eddie wrapped his arms around himself, wishing he knew how to end this. He’d seen enough. He remembered, and he knew what was coming, what he’d done. 

“Back away now, Five. Let me finish her and we can walk out of this place together.”

And that little boy? That terrified child who just wanted to grab his sister and run? 

He did. 

He backed away.

And, seeing no way to fight against a monster of this caliber, truly believing that it was too late to save Eleven, he kept backing up until he hit the double doors, then turned tail and ran. 

Eddie didn’t follow, he didn’t need to see what the boy did next. He recalled navigating the hallways blindly, eyes swimming with tears until he made it to the service elevator. Instead he stayed to watch as against all odds El gained the upper hand and sent that creep packing to another dimension. 

-

Eddie woke from his trance gasping and sobbing. 

He shoved himself off the bed and away from El as fast as he could, backing himself into the corner of the room before sliding down the wall to sit in a heap on the floor. 

“I knew it, I fucking left you there! That bastard had you and I just fucking ran. And he…” Eddie cut himself off, suddenly feeling like he couldn't breathe. “He’s my… oh god.”

El got off the bed slowly and took a few steps towards him. 

“Don’t.” Eddie said, shrinking even further into himself as she continued to get closer. “I’m… bad. Can’t you see that? Don’t you remember, weren’t you watching?! I’m bad. Why would you want to be anywhere near me after what I did to you?”

Eddie felt her small hands grip him firmly on either side of his face, tilting his head up so he was forced to look her in the eyes. “You. Are. Good. Eddie Munson.” 

He whimpered, trying to look away but she wouldn’t let him. 

“People lie. Henry lies.” 

“But what if it’s true? What if I'm just like him?”

“Even if it is true, if he is your– father, you are not like him. You are like Wayne, like Steve–” Her voice cracked a little on her brother’s name and she paused, swallowing thickly before continuing. “Like me. And we are not like him.” 

Eddie wanted to believe her but with the return of his memories came a seed of darkness, buried deep in his gut and growing by the second as it was fed by his guilt and shame.

He nodded anyway so she would let him go, and scrubbed at his face while he tried to pull himself together. He still had a job to do. As disgusted as he was with himself now, he could not let that get in the way of rescuing Steve.

He understood a little more of what he could do now, but he still lacked the skill to focus it. He could see all kinds of things from the past, present, and future. As a kid, and even now he supposed, the visions came on their own, unpredictable and often in dreams, though if he tried hard enough he could cause them to happen at will. He just didn’t know how to control what he saw. If only he could see what had happened to Steve, they might have a better idea of what to do to get him back, if he really was trapped in that place with Henry. 

“Just think of him.” El said, as though reading his mind. And maybe she was but it was also likely that she had simply followed the same train of thought. “Like the elevator.”

“But that’s… I thought you did that?”

“No.” She said, shaking her head. “I helped. Gave you a push and, uh, piggybacked in your mind, but it was you, the power. You got your own memories back.”

“Oh.”

“Close your eyes.” She said again, directing him as before and he compiled without hesitation. 

“Picture Steve, as you last saw him.”

Despite everything Eddie felt himself begin to blush, trying furiously not to think about what he and Steve had been up to before going to bed and only concentrate on the after– when they were cuddled together close in the dark, in the minutes before falling asleep. It was still incriminating as hell, but at least it was P.G. 

“El, can you, um… see?” He said, trying to hold on to the image as he spoke. It was like trying to stand in two places at once.

“Yes.”

“And are you… okay with it? Me and him?”

“You love him.” She said simply, part statement, part question.

All things being equal, and if their world and situation were a little more normal, Eddie would argue with her that it was far too soon for words like that, but if he was honest, his feelings for Steve were big, undeniable, powerful things, and so he responded in the only way that was honest. 

“Yes.”

“He loves you too. You make him happy. Why would I not be okay with that?”

“Oh.”

She made it sound so simple. It wasn’t, for a lot of reasons, but now wasn’t the time to explain societal hang ups, or the fact that Eddie wasn’t sure he was good enough for Steve anymore, had hardly thought he was good enough even before finding out about his potentially evil parentage.

“Focus on him, how he looks, feels, the details of his face, the room.”

Eddie did as she said, letting himself sink into the scene the way he had with the elevator, and when he could feel the wooden floor with its threadbare throw rug beneath his feet he knew he was in. 

It was surreal, watching from a few feet away as he and Steve shared a few final sweet kisses before settling down, their breath evening out as each of them fell asleep.

He willed time in the vision to speed up as he continued to hold onto it tightly, fighting not to let his mind wander anywhere but the moment he was in. 

It worked. 

Seconds later Steve was sitting up, staring at and speaking to empty air, his words lost, garbled as the vision became hazy. 

Shit.

“Why can’t I hear him?” Eddie mumbled aloud. Wondering about both himself now and his still sleeping form, then.

“I do not know.” El replied.

Eddie pulled the vision back into focus as best he could and managed to follow Steve as he ventured out of their room, still talking to thin air and eventually went outside. 

How did he make it all the way to the front door without waking anyone up? It had to be Vecna, he’d done something to mess with Steve, to trick him and keep the rest of them from noticing. 

Eddie kept watching, following Steve as he ran through the woods and continued running all the way to the lab. 

That fucking lab.

Which still had an old gate in its basement. 

A gate Henry must have reopened. 

He let the vision fall away and opened his eyes to find Eleven wearing the same expression of worry that he knew was echoed on his own face. 

It was true. Steve was in the Upside Down. He had walked right in on his own two feet and probably right into Vecna’s clutches. 

“We will get him back.” El said, a steely determination in her voice that left no room for doubt. “We will save him, just like the superheroes in your comic books.”

Eddie wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that, for the first time regretting having let her and Max pilfer his collection. Heroes might save the day but they didn’t always live to see the next one, and El was entirely too young to be thinking about sacrificing herself for anyone else. If they were really going to do this, venture into that place to get Steve back, he’d have to keep a close eye on her or find a way to get her to stay behind. 

A hot trickle ran down Eddie’s upper lip and he wiped at it without thinking, assuming his nose was just running from all the crying he’d done earlier, but the back of his hand came away smeared with blood.

“You need to rest now. Recharge.” El said.

“We don’t have time for me to rest. We need to go in there and get him out!”

-

Eddie was overruled. 

When he and El returned to the rest of the group and explained what they’d seen, it was decided that they needed to stock up on firepower before going anywhere. 

They hadn’t told the others about the past and what Eddie had seen in his memories, agreeing without needing to discuss it that it was his decision if and when he chose to share those details with anyone else, which he was grateful for. After everything they had been through, he wouldn't have been able to bear it if this was the thing that finally made everyone look at him differently. El seemed to forgive him, or at the very least wasn’t holding any of it against him, but there was no telling if the others would feel the same. He was having a hard enough time convincing himself that it didn’t change anything.

So, while Hopper, Joyce, and Jonathan made a trip back into town to stock up on weapons and any other supplies that might come in handy, Eddie allowed himself to be banished to his bedroom and tried to rest. 

It was impossible to sleep surrounded by the memory of Steve, their mingled scents still embedded in the sheets. Though he was exhausted, he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve being in that place, afraid to close his eyes lest he fall into a vision of it. He was also struck by the way everyone was still rallying around him, each of his friends and family as hell bent on getting Steve back as he was, but he didn’t like the idea that anyone else might get hurt on his watch. 

He was also terrified to let El go anywhere near Vecna, afraid of what he might do to her in retaliation for banishing him. 

Maybe…

Maybe Henry would make a trade. If Eddie was, in fact, the monster’s son, maybe he would be willing to let Steve go, to stop attacking his people, if Eddie agreed to join him in his place. It was the only way he could see out of this mess without risking anyone else. 

He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could and got dressed, at the last minute digging through his bag to find Steve’s letterman jacket, shrugging it on before adding his battle vest on top. It was probably silly, but he thought having a reminder like that of Steve and what they shared would give him strength. 

The last thing he grabbed was a pocket knife, stuffing it into his jeans. He didn’t bother worrying about taking any other weapons. This wasn’t going to be a fight. It was barely a negotiation. He just had to hope Henry would accept his offer.  

He clumsily snuck out the window, thankful that the boys and Max, as far as he could hear through the wall, were keeping the remaining adults busy by arguing against being left behind when the time came. For once he was on the side of the adults.

*ELEVEN*

After Eddie was sent to his room, Wayne insisted that Eleven should get some rest as well. She wasn’t actually feeling very tired yet, she had spoken the truth when she said Eddie had done most of the work, but she liked Mr. Wayne. He was kind, and smart, and if it would make him happy she would try to nap, but only after making him promise to wake her up and not leave her behind when they went to the Upside Down. They would need her, she was sure of it. She didn’t know how useful their weapons would be against something like Henry, but she had almost defeated him once, and for Steve, she could do it again.

El tried and tried but sleep would not come.

It was just… Eddie had been so sad earlier. He carried so much guilt now that his memories were back, and she didn’t know how to tell him that he was wrong. He thought this was all his fault somehow, but it wasn't. It was hers.

She was the one who set Henry free, tricked into giving him back his powers.

She was the one who’s failure to put him down properly had landed him in a world where he somehow became even more powerful, enough to come after her and others from a world away.

And then she’d drug Steve into things.

Just thinking of him made her heart hurt.

If it wasn’t for her, he would have never even heard of Hawkins lab, and would certainly not be in danger now. And Eddie? Eddie would have gone on with his life, happily having no idea of his own tragic beginnings. 

She’d caused this and now it was up to her to fix it, and she couldn’t let anyone else be hurt by her failure. 

She put some shoes on and wrapped one of Mr. Wayne’s flannels around herself, considering her options. She couldn’t tell the others, so simply walking out the front door wasn’t possible, they would never agree to her plan. They saw her as a child, a powerful one, but still a kid that needed protecting.

The window in her room was high, but El was able to slide a box under it to use as a step stool to pull herself up. She went through and landed hard on the other side, holding herself still once she landed until she was sure that no one had heard her rough landing. 

She didn’t exactly know the way to the lab from here, but she remembered the general direction from Eddie’s vision of Steve, and when she concentrated she could feel the pulsing of the gate calling to her. 

-

Too late Eleven realized it was maybe not the best idea to do this alone. She had made it to the lab and through the gate just fine, but the growls and snarls that could be heard in the distance were a terrifying reminder that Henry wasn’t the only monster in this place, and it wouldn't do Steve any good if she got eaten before she could offer herself up to as a trade for his life. 

The growls came closer and Eleven got spooked, taking off at a run while she looked back to make sure nothing was on her trail, and ran smack dab into Eddie’s back. 

Chapter 14

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @newtstabber @goodolefashionedloverboi @adaed5 @buckleybarnes @soaringornithopter @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @bestwifehaver @5ammi90 @sofadofax @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @hardboiledleggs @mentallyundone @epiclazershark @herebedragons404 @estrellami-1 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @the-s-is-silent @brbsoulnomming @goinsteddie @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @thestarslittleking

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve and el sibling supremacy #good uncle wayne #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #ao3

[artificial-red-head]

Hell Bent For Leather Part 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Minor Steve Rogers X Natasha Romanov

Summary: You're on the run from your old motorcycle club and abusive ex-boyfriend. You run into a man with the most beautiful blue eyes who somehow finds out who you're running from. He offers you protection and reunites you with someone who you thought was dead.

Tags/Warnings: Biker AU, Paste Abusive Relationships, Dialogue Heavy, Brock Rumlow is a dick

A/N: There is little reader descriptions--only things mentioned is that reader is smaller than Bucky and has hair long enough to braid and be put in a ponytail. Tittle and chapter titles come from the song Hell Bent For Leather by Judas Priest.

Chapter 1:  Seek him here, seek him on the highway

You had ridden out of there as fast as your motorcycle could take you in the early hours of the morning, unsure where the roads would take you. How could you know? You were never allowed off of the property of the clubhouse unless it was for work or if he was with you. After months of slowly saving up money from your job, you had enough to finally get out.  

Two years. Two long years you had been in that damned club. 

Two years since you had lost the only family you had left. 

The road seemed to have stretched on for miles. You wanted to get out of the territory of the club and at least a few towns over. But you needed to stop, you were getting tired. The sun was beginning to set.  

The sun had gone down when you had finally found a place to stay. An old motel right off the road right before an intersection. The sign by the road read ‘Maximoff’s Motel’ in big red painted letters. The open sign out front had flickered slightly as you pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. 

The boy behind the counter eyed you suspiciously. He looked you up and down a few times. You eyed him back. He was small but lean; his bleached hair looked almost silver under the lights. He looked young, too young to be running a motel alone late at night. 

 “How can I help you, ma’am?” He finally spoke after looking at you so intensely. 

His Eastern European accent shocked you a bit. You were used to the country and southern accents and the dialog that came from your old club that made you think that they were uneducated. Most of them probably were. 

“One room, just for the night,” Your voice came out harsh from not speeching all day. You grunted a ‘please’ at the end. 

He asked if you wanted a single or double bed, to which you replied with single. Your voice still sounded harsh as if you were crying. Which you had been hours ago when you first left. 

He handed you a room key after you paid him for the night. You thanked him and he nodded in reply. He was pressing numbers on an old telephone as soon as you turned around to find your room.  

You were unable to sleep. The fear of him finding you and dragging you back prevented you from sleeping for more than about three hours. 

He would not have noticed that you were gone until he got back from work a little after 4 PM. Even then, he usually did not come to find you until later in the night when he wanted physical intimacy from you. Only then would he notice that your motorcycle was gone. That had given you enough time after he left in the morning to get as far as possible without leaving any clues in which direction you had gone in. 

He would not send the entire gang to go find you. He would have done it himself. But he only had so much time outside of the club.  

You finally turned over to look at the time on the analog clock after refusing to look when you first awoke. 5:47 AM. After groaning and changing into the only other change of clothes you brought, you left to go back to the check-in. 

 There was someone else behind the counter this time. A young woman with auburn hair now sat in the boy's place. She looked roughly the same age as the boy, maybe younger. She looked more lively than the boy looked last night. You did not blame him though considering how late it was. 

She greeted you with a friendly hello in the same Eastern European accent and asked if you needed anything. You asked for another night in your room, in which she happily allowed after you placed the cash on the counter. After some hesitation, you asked her where the nearest town was to find a job. 

You must have caught her by surprise because she blinked a few times before answering, “Turn left at the intersection. There’s a small town about 5 minutes down the road. The diner is still requesting help.” 

You thanked her kindly. Her face seemed to have softened before replying with a you’re welcome and a sweet smile.

True to the young woman’s words the diner had been looking for hires. The older waitress who you had talked to looked wearily at you. Everyone in the diner had seen you roll in on your motorcycle. Hell, the entire town had seen you come in. 

You must have looked desperate because the woman had given you the job and uniform and asked you to come in the next day. 

You were unable to sleep again that night. Whether it was the jitters to have to start a new job or the fact that he could have caught up to you by now, you were unsure. 

The clock beside you told you that it was a little after five in the morning. You were not going to get any more sleep and you had to be at the diner at six. 

You relished under the hot water in the shower for a long time. The water at the clubhouse was always cold and the men never seemed to have minded. You never had time to enjoy showers anyways, you did not trust the men in the club when you were most vulnerable. 

You rushed to get ready, unaware of how much time you had accidentally spent in the shower. 

Stopping by the check-in again, both the young woman and the young man were there. They had been conversing with one another before you had stepped in. You asked for another night and you thanked the girl again for recommending the diner. 

She beamed at you and the man’s facial expression seemed to have softened when he saw the look on her face. 

Working at the diner was not too hard. You had worked at a bar when you were back at the club; bartending was not too different from waitressing. Most of the customers were elderly and did not seem to have minded if you made a mistake with their order. Despite this, they still tipped you well, which you greatly appreciated. While you for thankful for the job, it was not the best pay. 

You had been working at the diner for about a week. You rode in on your motorcycle every morning and returned to the motel every night. The routine made you forget what you were running away from. It had not bothered you because you knew that he would have caught up to you by now.

Instead of asking for another night every morning you had asked for another week at the motel, paying with the tips you saved up from the week before. The young woman gave you a deal since you were planning on staying for a while. You thanked her endlessly and she gave you another one of her bright smiles. 

It was suspected to be like any other day at the diner: clock in, prepare for the day, take orders, and do your job. What you had not expected was the man that rolled into the diner with a scowl.  

“Who’s bike is outside?” His voice roared over the quiet chatter of the customers, silencing them all. 

You turned around and were met with a gruff-looking man. His bright blue eyes swept over the diner, undoubtedly looking for someone.  

“Mine.” You answered. You knew by now that you were the only person who owned a motorcycle on that side of town. 

His eyes stopped on you. The scowl on his face disappeared. You knew you were not who he was expecting. He stalked up to the counter you were standing behind. He asked in a softer tone this time. “You in a club, sweetheart?”  

You frowned. That was not the type of question you were expecting. Hell, you were not sure what you were expecting when he came in and started yelling about your motorcycle. And the use of a nickname at the end made you frown deeper. 

“Not anymore.” You replied truthfully with a frown still adorned on your face. 

“And why is that?” He asked, leaning forward on the counter and frowning as well. 

Another question. “I got out.” He gave you a weird look, “For a good reason.”

“What’s a good reason, huh?” 

His continuous questions were starting to piss you off. He had no business to ask you these questions in the first place. It was not a topic that you wanted to discuss with anyone. Let alone a stranger. You were trying to forget your past and the man at the counter in front of you, who you still have yet to learn the name of, would not leave you alone. 

“Do you consider kidnapping me and killing my sister a good enough reason?” You answered in a low tone, but the anger in your voice was evident. 

His eyes widened and he leaned off the counter. He was silent for a moment, thinking before speaking. 

“Shit, honey I’m sorry.”  

He looked genuinely sorry. It took you by surprise. He backed off and walked out without looking back at anyone. 

You ignored the nickname and watched him leave. There was a motorcycle parked next to yours. You watch him as he swung his leg over it and rolled out of the parking lot. 

Your manager who had watched the entire encounter told you to have the rest of the day off after that.

#bucky barnes x reader #biker au #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers #natasha romanov #howling commandos #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #brock rumlow

[therealgchu]

WIP Wednesday - Seven Days

today's WIP sneak peek is actually for chapter 5. i'm kind stuck on a section in chapter 4, so there's delay. it's one of those funny things where i've gotten about 1/2 of chapter 5 written, 3/4 of chapter 6, and chapter 7 is done. just this one little section in chapter 4 is giving me fits.

friday will see Iris published as part of the To the Shore shorts. it's a gonna be spicy.

tagging the coemancers! show 'em if you got 'em!

if you want to read Seven Days from the beginning, it's over here.

my other works are also here.

the sneak peek goes down hard

content warning: attempted murder, mentions of suicide. this might be triggering, so the entire thing is under the cut.

This time, his hands found their mark - his left hand gripping her tank top, and right hand around her throat. With all his strength he squeezed her neck. She was so small that his hand easily fit around her neck. It was just a matter of closing that gap between his thumb and middle finger…

All the while she didn’t move or speak. Her eyes were closed and she hung limply in his hands. At no point did she struggle. Her face started turning purple, yet she still didn’t move. “I can’t do it, I can’t kill someone in cold blood,” he grunted, releasing her. She dropped like a ragdoll and lay there, unmoving for several minutes. He backed away from the bars, staring at her unmoving body. He finally heard her taking deep, gasping breaths, and rolled over. After another couple minutes, she managed to get on her hands and knees. She got herself to a sitting position, and rubbed her neck.

“It’s probably a good thing you didn’t kill me,” she whispered in a raspy voice. “When Starborn are killed, we, and everything on us, are dissolved into stardust. The key to your cell is in my pocket.”

“Did you plan this?” he asked weakly.

“No, and it wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. Your release would have only been delayed. I have orders in place. It just would have taken longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Only a few hours, maybe a day”

“Oh.” Sam crawled back to the side of the bed and sat with his back against it. He looked at his hands, but felt numb. After some time had passed, he asked, “Why didn’t you fight back?”

The woman was sitting in the same place where he’d dropped her. She didn’t respond immediately, but was also looking at her hands. “I was kinda hoping you’d succeed,” she finally answered.

“You know, you could do that yourself, and then I wouldn’t feel like such shit.”

“I’ve tried. I chicken out in the end. It’s why I keep going through the Unity.”

For some reason, what she said affected him more than anything else in the last five days. He felt tears start falling. “Is that all there is to this? Is that how it ends for us? Go through the Unity and become a monster like you?”

“You could always choose not to go.”

“I could, but,” he paused, and hung his head low in shame, “you were right about me. I don’t think I could escape the lure of seeing the multiverse. Despite the cost.” He stood up and faced the bars. “Even now, part of my mind is wondering what’s out there, what new worlds, new mysteries. And, I want to see it. I’d wait till Cora was grown up, but I’d still go. I know I would.”

She nodded.

“And, I hate myself for feeling that way. Look at you,” he motioned, “you could have had a chance. You could have fought for Cora. You could have stayed. But, you chose this. And, I gotta wonder, if the same thing happened to me, if I lost everything like you did, would I choose the same?

“God help me, but I think I would,” he said, answering his own question. “If I had your background, yeah, I would,” he ended softly. After a long pause, he whispered, “Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

#starfield #sam coe #fanfic #fanfiction #seven days #starfield au #starfield oc #oc #content warning #wip fanfiction #wip wednesday #coemancers #the coemancer crew #starborn

[liketheinferno2]

few disconnected things about xvi:

The big eikon fights are all LONG like bare minimum ten minutes I think I was on titan for thirty. To make this bearable they're in checkpoint phases like xiv raids. I like it. Unfortunately I have a habit of pausing to talk to people and then completely forgetting what I was doing so left Clive in the knife edge of Zantetsuken for 2 hours.

These summons are as classic as you get for like... narrative function. I'm a huge fan of old ff summoners where they're just kind of born this way and the visual on it is the form of this god creature overtaking their entire body. Less classic when most characters only get one eikon but very effective. Jumping out of my seat about some of this stuff I love gamma ray level megaflare. Titan the size of an mountain dwarfing summons as tall as buildings. Odin's SCARY in this one man maybe it's just me... but when the guy on the other end can sever anything he perceives as capable of being severed that's the sort of thing I love to see with reality bending fantasy powers.

I'm about 90% of the way done I think... at this point it is coming back again and again to this thesis of choice and autonomy as essential to human life and worth fighting for, for yourself and others. This story has an interesting presentation where characters can be very groundedly human having literal conversations at some points and theatrical actors posed for effect at others. Not a bad thing, feels very Utena-like to me. The eikon pulling scenes too, I have to compare it to sword pulls? Like this isn't sex but it can be intimate/caring/painful/violating in a very personal way... I'm just counting on my fingers here but you see it used like 1. By accident, painful and stressful for both parties, 2. on purpose, pushing Clive fearfully into a new life like he becomes a Bigger Adult, 3. to assert dominance, bad for everybody, 4. out of caring to gain understanding of another person, 5. out of love and trust willfully given, 6. forced and violent in that weird theatrical way I was talkin about earlier.. looking back on these as a whole I feel gears turning.

Kinda shoujo kinda berserk kinda thing you have to embrace the chuuni to get into. Other thing that keeps crossing my mind is how much this feels like ff's take on a Guts and Casca. OTHER other thing is how much this feels like this team's take on ff7's Avalanche, ff15's mistakes, ff4's drama with ff14's design ethos. REMINDS ME OF A LOT OF THINGS I LOVE BUT IS ALSO DISTINCTLY IT'S OWN THING both in and outside the bounds of the rest of the series. Not really getting the GoT comparison but that was low hanging fruit for lazy critics in the first place lol.

Also really really really good at portraying gentle touches and the sense that these characters feel safe in each other's arms and I love that shit. I'll hold off for now with the pictures but almost my entire photo library for ff16 is characters holding each other or saying some gay shit or both at once. Stopping myself here but there's your thinking out loud gamer post for the week o/

#let him speak #final fantasy sex and violence #post script i like that there's dodge assist OR auto dodge #slow reaction time doesn't mean I don't wanna try with training wheels on :P #i will keep auto DOG on though

[beeeinyourbonnet]

Covetous | Chapter 7

Rating: E

Pairing: Macelle (Father MacAvoy x Belle) or Nostelle (Nosty x Belle), who is to say which

Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.

[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6]

[read on ao3]

tws: alcoholism, homelessness.

----------------------

MacAvoy did not remember the bus being so nauseating. Every time he got off one to switch to another, he had to find a discreet place to vomit, and he regretted leaving all of his booze at the church. The only thing that kept him from going back to get a bottle was the thought that Belle would confiscate it if she found it, and then he’d have nothing.

 His third and final bus pulled up two blocks from the library, and he was so dehydrated and void of all the eggs and toast he’d eaten all weekend, he wasn’t sure he could make it. Vodka was, for once, not what he wanted—water would have been divine.

Nonetheless, he staggered forward. He had to see Belle. She would need counsel, a friend after her weekend. He would be there for her no matter that his stomach felt like a wrung-out sponge. 

His phone told him it was about ten when he stumbled into view of the library. That was good. He didn’t look overeager waiting until ten to get there. Of course, she was the one who told him the route, so she would likely know that he’d left over an hour ago. 

Whatever. She already knew he was pathetic. At least he was arriving sober this time, of his own free will. 

The first thing he saw when he stumbled into the library was the cart full of water, and he lurched for a bottle. 

The second, as he chugged water with more speed than his stomach wanted him to, was Belle’s empty circulation desk. And yet, someone had opened the library, so she probably wasn’t lying murdered in her apartment.

He crossed himself at the thought. If she was, there was nothing he could do—he didn’t know where she lived.

“Joseph!”

He whipped around, spilling water all over his hand, and there she was, resplendent in an olive green dress and carrying a stack of books, all but glowing with happiness. What did that mean?

“Belle! Ah—good morning.”

“Give me just a minute, I need to re-shelve these.” 

He wanted to follow her, but she’d said to give her a minute, so instead he lurched his way to the circulation desk and fished the fiver out of his pocket to drop in her collection jar. Part of him wanted to wait for her to see it so she’d know he wasn’t just taking advantage, but he knew that doing a good deed for recognition would sully it, and he’d done so many awful things over the weekend, he couldn’t add that to the list.

“Good morning!” 

He jumped, almost knocking the jar over, and then Belle had her arms around his shoulders, squeezing. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She might as well have floated off, back around the desk. What had put her in such a good mood?

“No problem,” he managed, leaning against the desk. He’d spent all weekend sure she would be broken, sure she would just run to him, her wise and loving confidant, and now he didn’t know what to do.

“Why don’t you bring over a chair and tell me about your weekend? There’s coffee if you want.” She pointed to the carafe near the cart. 

Coffee was a smart idea, so he poured himself a cup, black, and then dragged over a chair. He thought Belle might have been shopping again, but she was reading through her emails. He averted his eyes to preserve her privacy.

“Was the trip difficult?” she asked, typing a quick reply to one.

“No, it was no trouble.” He studied her back, trying to discern anything. Where had Nosty hurt her? He must have. 

“Did you hold mass yesterday?”

He sipped his coffee, narrowing his eyes at the back of her head. “I sat in the pulpit, but no one showed up.” The doors were locked, but she didn’t need to know that. 

She hummed her acknowledgment, clicking through a few more emails, and then she pushed her keyboard back in and spun her chair to face him.

“So!” She clasped her hands in her lap. “What’s your plan?”

“My plan?”

He searched her face for a clue, and as she started on about being glad to have him in the library, he zeroed in on a red mark on her neck. It looked like a bruise, not the bite he was expecting.

“What happened?” he asked, hoarse.

“Hmm?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”

He raised a shaking finger toward her neck, and her eyes widened before she slapped a hand over the mark. Far from looking terrorized like he expected, she flushed all the way to the tips of her ears.

“Oh, that.” Her voice was oddly high-pitched. “I thought I’d covered it better. If you’ll—I’ll be right back.”

She fled to her office, and he sat, stumped. What was she hiding? What had made her so happy? Surely, if Nosty had hurt her, she wouldn’t be wandering around with her head in the clouds? Was he still drunk somehow, despite everything he’d purged from his system on the way here?

Maybe she’d left something on her desk that could clue him in. He didn’t want to snoop, so he vowed not to touch anything. He’d just look around, see what was there.

He was debating how to get around his no touching rule and also open the desk drawer when she came striding back out, no longer flushed and with no more mark on her neck.

“Close call.” She plopped back into her chair, throwing her arms out for balance when it spun. “Can you imagine if a patron had seen that and complained?”

“What?” He was so confused. He had to still be drunk. “I don’t understand. Did you hurt yourself?”

“Oh.” She blushed again, biting her lip. “Nothing, Father—Joseph! It was nothing. Thank you for spotting it.”

Not only did he feel like a failure, he felt stupid. What was he missing? Why was she embarrassed by a bruise? Sure, it was in a strange spot, like someone had given it to her, but—

Oh.

It was his turn to flush, and he turned away before she could see. He didn’t often think about pleasures of the flesh because he’d always been more tempted by drink, sometimes even gambling. There had been times when he’d wanted, but it had been so long. His parishioners, however, had been another story. He’d heard all manner of depraved confessions, even in his little outskirts-of-London parish.

He remembered now a man who’d admitted to wanting his wife to choke him, and MacAvoy’s hand flew to his own neck. Is that what happened? Had Belle been choked? 

He wouldn’t ask her. There were many things he was sure she’d confide in a close friend, but they’d spent all of one day together, and he was sure any other close friend she might have had would not have been a Catholic priest. 

“So,” he wheezed. He cleared his throat. “You had a nice weekend?”

“It was wonderful.” She twisted the ends of her hair around a finger, and he had the fleeting urge to join her, to twine their fingers together so he could have the pleasure of touching her hair as well. 

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Good, I’m glad.” 

“So, volunteering?”

“What?” Who was volunteering?

“Earlier? I said it would be helpful if you volunteered while you were here? I know last week was kind of slow, but it’s usually quite busy, and I’m always looking for new volunteers.”

He swallowed. It made sense that he couldn’t simply take a bus to the library to sit at Belle’s feet for eight hours a day, five days a week. That would have been insane.

“Of course. I would love to help.” 

It wasn’t a lie, but Belle’s sunny smile made it feel even more true. He smiled hesitantly in return. 

“If you don’t mind starting today, I can teach you how to check books in and out and you can cover for me at lunch?” 

All he really heard was that he would be here while Belle went somewhere else at lunch, but what was he supposed to do? Say no? She’d taken care of him for two days, driven him across town, and welcomed him back even though it was obvious he was hungover. 

“Anything’s fine,” he said, and Belle rewarded him with another smile.

****

After almost two hours, he did not really have the hang of the system. He was not great with computers, and though he practiced on a few older ladies that had come in to return and pick out new books, he wasn’t confident enough to be left alone. 

In the end, they decided he should write down the library card and book information of anyone who came in, and Belle would just log it when she came back.

“Going somewhere fun?” he asked, trying not to stare at her touching up her lipstick.

“Not really. Nosty and I are going to the clinic to get tested.”

She puckered her lips together a few times, then capped her lipstick and stuck it back in her purse. It gave him time to process what she was saying, but he still didn’t understand. Was she pregnant? He wasn’t the most knowledgeable man, but pregnancy usually didn’t show after just a day or two.

“Tested for what?” He probably shouldn’t have asked, but she had mentioned it, so it wasn’t prying too much. 

She glanced sideways at him. “Sorry, I don’t mean to overshare.”

“It’s not oversharing.” Was she pregnant? “It’s my job to listen.”

She licked her freshly colored lips, but even whatever hesitation she had couldn’t stop her from smiling for long. She had to be pregnant.

“You are my closest friend, I guess,” she said. “I’m sorry if that’s odd for you.”

His neck warmed, and for the first time in forever, it wasn’t from guilt or shame. It was a nice feeling, a pleasant warmth. “You’re my closest friend too. You can tell me.”

She pursed her lips again. “We’re going to the clinic to get tested so we can be, ah—safe.”

“Safe?” He frowned. “From what?”

She wiggled her eyebrows, and as understanding crept along the tips of his ears, he wished the library would swallow him. They were getting tested for STDs. Of course. Like safe, consenting adults did. 

His knees shuddered, and he clutched the desk. Did that mean—

“So you haven’t—you didn’t this weekend?” Was he even allowed to ask that? As a priest, probably not. As her closest friend, though?

“No.” A dreamy look crossed her face. He was going to be sick. “We stayed up all night talking.”

He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he was conscious, but she would notice. How could they have done nothing? Maybe she had been drugged? She didn’t remember?

“Joseph? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, sorry, I—”

She laid a hand on his, and oh god, how could she have figured it out already? He was going to fling himself into the Thames. 

“How much did you drink this weekend?” 

His vice. It had saved him. She thought he was just hungover. He tried to look sheepish which wasn’t hard. 

“More than I should have.” 

Belle squeezed his hand and then, for one horrible split-second, he saw her naked. His stomach clenched.

“I’m sorry, I need to—” He stood, stumbling over his chair in his haste to flee to the bathroom.

“Okay, good luck,” she said, and he tried to laugh. “I’ll wait until you’re out before I go?”

He nodded or maybe he agreed, he couldn’t remember. All he knew was he had never run so fast, but he did make it to a toilet before throwing up.

When he returned ten minutes later, shaky and thirsty, Belle was standing by the door clutching her purse, peering out the window. 

“When’s he supposed to get here?” MacAvoy asked.

“Any minute now.”

There wasn’t enough left inside of him to react to that, so he collapsed in his chair, sipping his water. After that round of vomiting, he was sure the shakes were to follow. 

Belle waited at the window for another ten minutes, then sat at the desk staring out for fifteen, then poured a cup of coffee and ran to bring it to the man sitting outside the convenience store across the road, then stared at the window again.

Her lunch hour came and went, and as much as MacAvoy was glad not to see Nosty, his heart ached watching Belle wait for him. He should have known he wasn’t coming. Belle should have known.

Tentative, he put a hand on her shoulder, and she all but jumped out of her skin. 

“Belle?”

“He’s coming.” Her eyes were wet, but the set of her jaw was determined. 

“Are you sure?”

“He wouldn’t not come.” She pressed a hand to her neck where he knew the mark was, where Nosty must have choked her. “If he’s not here, it’s because something happened.”

“Like what?” 

She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s dangerous on the streets. Once he came in with a slash across his shoulder and wouldn’t tell me how he got it.” She swallowed. “It’s dangerous.”

In his drunken stupors, he’d met all manner of dangers on the streets, so he coldn’t disagree. “Do you want to try to teach me the computer system again while we wait for him?”

A tear spilled over her cheek and he forced himself not to brush it away, not to use the tip of his finger to caress the soft skin of her cheek. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get some books to practice with.”

****

They practiced all day. Nosty did not show up. Joseph could even check books in and out on his own by the time Belle had to close the library.

She wandered back to her office, the loneliness rooting in her gut again and telling her that nothing had happened to Nosty. He had simply kissed her goodbye outside the library that morning and lied when he said he would see her in a few hours.

But no. He wouldn’t dare. He had held her so tenderly, kept her heart safe within his grasp. He knew leaving would destroy her. Something had happened.

Out of habit—and a little hope—she checked every possible hiding spot in her office and bathroom before locking up, then wandered through all the stacks. Nosty didn’t leap out and grab her, she saw no flash of tartan, no wild tangle of hair. 

As she turned off the lights, tucking her home in for bed, she looked around one last time. Nosty wasn’t there.

She would have to find him.

****

It was supposed to be a chilly night, so while Belle closed the library, MacAvoy took another cup of coffee to her friend across the street, along with a few snacks she recommended for him. 

The man thanked him, and in a moment of what MacAvoy considered genius, he asked him if he’d seen Nosty, but he hadn’t since that morning. That, at least, probably meant that Nosty wasn’t lurking somewhere in the library.

Belle emerged and MacAvoy made his hasty goodbyes, promising to come by for a chat tomorrow.

“You don’t have to drive me,” he said.

“I don’t mind.” She stood on her toes, searching the distance, and then flattened. “Maybe he’ll be waiting for me at home.”

“Then you should go home.”

She smiled then, and he was grateful that she didn’t listen to him because he felt like shit, his muscles were shaking, and he didn’t want to be out of her company for the hours it would take him to reverse engineer her bus instructions.

MacAvoy wasn’t sure that Belle looked anywhere but straight ahead while she drove—he didn’t see her check her mirrors, her blind spots, anything. She stared forward, eyes full.

“Belle,” he said. “You’re gonna hit someone.”

She jumped, blinking some tears down her cheek, and then finally did her usual visual circuit from mirror to mirror. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just worried. Can you do me a favor tonight?”

The devil decided that now, as she asked him for a favor, was the time to remind him of the vision of Belle pressed to the shower wall, Nosty’s gargantuan cock inside her while MacAvoy held his own pitiful member. He clenched his fists.

“Anything.”

“Will you call as many hospitals in your area as you can and see if he’s checked in? I’ll call in my area. And text me if you find him?”

That was not the favor he expected—although he didn’t know what he’d thought—but he hastened to agree. He knew how to use a phone, and there had been a time when he’d made the rounds at hospitals. He might even have contacts at some of them. 

“Thank you.” She reached across and closed her soft, gentle fingers around his fist. He felt it in his cock and wished he could fucking die. “I don’t want to do this alone.”

With a hand somehow both stiff and trembling, he patted hers. “You don’t have to do anything alone, Belle. I’m here.”

He was here with his impure urges and visions sent straight from the devil himself, but by God was MacAvoy going to call those hospitals for her. 

****

It wasn’t until the fourth hospital he called that MacAvoy finally got somewhere. Thank God, because he refused to drink a sip until he’d finished his task, which also meant that he couldn’t force down any food, and his whole body rebelled. He needed the dopamine of a success.

“Nosty?” the man on the phone asked. “And who’s calling?”

“Father MacAvoy,” he half-wheezed. “From St. Joseph’s. I’m his chaplain.”

“Sorry, Father. We haven’t seen him in a couple months. If you’re looking for him, he’s probably locked up or dead.”

MacAvoy closed his eyes. Belle would not want to hear this. 

“Thank you. Can I ask—do you see him often?”

“Fairly. He’s had a bit of a dry spell recently.” 

So that meant that wherever Nosty spent time, it was likely near this hospital. He thanked the man for his time and hung up. Belle had said to text her, but this was news that he felt was probably better delivered spoken. Texts were for concrete information and hospital addresses. 

Promising himself a drink as soon as this was over, he dialed Belle’s number.

****

All of Nosty’s new clothes were folded neatly on the spare bed, just where they’d left them. None of her books were missing. There wasn’t even any food or water missing.

Belle was torn between a desire to cocoon herself in the bird blanket and think about Nosty’s strong arms and to move, move, move. The blanket wouldn’t help find him, though, so she made herself a cup of tea and set her laptop up at the kitchen table. 

The closest hospitals to her flat and the library didn’t know him at all. She considered pouring a glass of wine, but what if she found him and needed to pick him up? Better to stay sober.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up, praying for an unknown number and Nosty’s voice. It was only Joseph, but maybe he had good news?

“Did you find anything?” she asked instead of hello.

“Maybe.” 

Her heart sank deep into the expanding loneliness in her gut. Soon, it would blossom and overtake her, and she’d be nothing but a husk. 

“What?”

“I found what I think is the hospital he usually goes to.” 

Belle took a sip of tea. The hospital he usually goes to. Usually goes to for what? Did he have a terminal illness? 

“What do you mean?”

“I spoke to a man who said they used to see him fairly often but haven’t for a few months.”

What did that mean? Why was he there so often? She rubbed her forehead. If only Nosty had left some sort of clue or ever allowed her to know anything personal—she’d be able to find him then. 

“Did he say anything else?”

Joseph made a noise like he was reconsidering talking, and Belle straightened.

“What? What did he say?”

“Belle, maybe this isn’t—”

“Joseph, what did he say?”

The only sound for several seconds was Belle’s hammering heart. Then, “He said if I can’t find him, he’s probably locked up or dead.”

Belle set her mug on the table, a great feat of restraint considering she wanted to hurl it against the wall. Nosty couldn’t be dead. She would know. She didn’t know how, but somehow, she would know.

“Belle?”

That meant that Nosty was locked up again. He was probably miserable. She had to find him.

“Belle?”

“Sorry.” She stared at the map on her computer. How many police stations were there? How many would she have to call? Would they even listen to her?

“Are you okay? What are you doing?”

She shook her head, the map lines swimming in front of her. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Come to the church.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Belle, it’s not haunted, I promise.”

“What if he comes here?”

Joseph was quiet. A sob escaped, ripped from her chest, and she pressed a hand over her mouth. 

“Do you want me to come there?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” she said, even though she had intended to say no. 

“Okay. There’s just—I’m sorry, but—”

“You have to drink.” She didn’t care. How was she supposed to keep Joseph from self-destructing when she was crumbling from the inside? 

“I do.”

“It’s fine. Get in a taxi. I’ll pay.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

They hung up and Belle stared at the map again. She could hardly remember what she needed to do. She wouldn’t be alone anymore at least. Nosty would have to accept Joseph once they found him and he realized how integral he’d been in helping her. Is this what having real friends was like? Heartache and support in equal measure? She’d take it over the loneliness.

****

MacAvoy felt disgusting as he gulped from his handle of gin then stuck it in his jacket pocket before heading outside. How could he bring his vile crutch when Belle was paying for his taxi?

But he’d be no use to her sober, that much was certain. If he wanted to help Belle, he’d have to give her a glimpse of his world.

The drive took half an eternity, but Belle stood on the sidewalk, waiting for him as promised. She swiped her credit card and then she was in his shaking arms, sobbing.

“Come on.” He patted her on the back, feeling each sob deep in his chest—and only his chest, thank God. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

She led him up to a small two-bedroom whose decor style could be boiled down to, unsurprisingly, books everywhere. He hid his smile, not wanting her to think that he enjoyed any part of what was going on.

“So I’ve broken the city down by area,” she said. “And I’ve been making a list of all the precincts to call.”

“Have you eaten?” he asked. 

She licked her lips. “No, not yet.” Oh, how the tables had turned.

“Come on.” He spied her laptop and a mug on the kitchen table, so he put a hand between her shoulders and guided her there. “You’ll be of no use to Nosty if you faint. Do you need another cup of tea?”

She allowed him to push her into her chair, then she looked into her mug and nodded. “It’s gone cold. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” An electric kettle sat by the sink, so he filled it again and set it to heat. While his back was to her, he nipped from his gin bottle. 

The chair scraped and he whirled to see why, but Belle was just taking a box of tea and another mug from the cupboard and bringing them to the table.

When the water boiled, he managed to pour it into both mugs without spilling, and then while Belle added a squeeze of lemon to her tea, he tipped a shot of gin into his. 

“All right,” he said, unsure of where the authority in his voice came from. He hadn’t sounded like that in years. “Let’s see about dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said. Somehow, the look he turned on her was strong enough to make her blush. Maybe she’d taught him a thing or two. “Fine. Let’s get a pizza. Here.” She fished her card out of her sweater pocket and handed it to him. “Get whatever you want.”

At this point, all he wanted was Nosty to appear or for Belle to eat. He didn’t have a thought to spare for pizza.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll figure something out.”

She nodded, and when she turned back to her computer, he saw that she’d made a spreadsheet of information.

This was going to be a long night.

[chapter 8]

#anyelle #anyelle fic #anyelle fanfic #anyelle fanfiction #nostelle #macelle #nostelle fic #macelle fic #new update #covetous

[crazy-pages]

My Most Controversial Academic Opinion

The effect of tenure in practice is to eject controversial professors from academia, not to shelter them. I would even go so far as to call this its intended function.

Think about what tenure is, in practice.

Step 1: You enter academia. As a post-doc you are expected to work gratuitously more hours than your contract stipulates, for very little pay with no job security. If you challenge the authority of your PI, your career is dead.

Step 2: Maybe more post-doc work, but maybe you move on to adjuncting. You work gratuitously more hours than your contract stipulates, you get paid very little with no job security, and if you express a hint of controversial views you will be let go.

Step 3: The primary way up to tenure track is intensive networking with existing figures in the university, getting in close with the administration, and brutally overworking yourself without complaint. You definitely absolutely cannot complain during this period.

Step 4: Tenure track! Time to brutally overwork yourself for gratuitously more hours than your contract stipulates again, killing yourself dead to earn that tenure. You cannot risk anything controversial during this period, unless it is a very carefully cultivated controversial that benefits the university.

Step 5: You made it! After more than a decade of allowing your work contract to be violated left and right, of overwork, of minimal respect, of no job security, flattering everyone above you on the chain, and never saying anything controversial ... you can be controversial. In theory.

In theory.

Now, before anyone says anything, I am aware of specific examples of tenure being used to protect the right to pursue controversial research. But in aggregate. What are the odds that someone who made it through this system is going to be a controversial researcher?

What are the odds that this person is going to see a grad student being overworked or abused, and use their position of privilege to complain to the administration about it? Hell what power do they actually have to do so? Actually for that matter, speaking of abuse.

If a tenured professor actually professionally abuses their students, screaming at them, bullying them, violating their work contracts, what can be done about that? Because let me tell you, I have been on the receiving end of that. I got personally informed by the grad student dean that he had literally no power to influence my advisor's behavior. The only thing he could do was a nuclear option to permanently ban the advisor from taking on grad students in the future, which I was told would almost certainly result in career retaliation.

And that nuclear option would be reserved for more serious cases anyway, like direct sexual assault of a student (note the implied: that might not be enough to get the advisor fired, just lose grad student privileges). Now I wasn't doing any especially controversial research as a student, but what about those who want to? Because it sure seems like the current system gives a blank check for their abuse at the hands of established uncontroversial academics for over a decade of their career. I can't help but think that might have a cooling effect on interest in controversial research.

Maybe. Just a little, you know?

Tenure says that the only people who get protection for their research are the people who have proved their loyalty to the institution and their willingness to endure its worst. It gives protection to those who would abuse those who would shake the system up. It gives personal security, and yet no explicit power or incentive for those with tenure to protest the mistreatment of those in their field. It makes it so that the only way to get the power to be controversial is to prove you can be uncontroversial, or palatably controversial.

Maybe instead of defending tenure we can have academic unions instead.

#academia #tenure #unionization #labor unions