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last-words-ofashootingstar · 8 months

Text

Moll

❥ Choi San x fem reader

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)

✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s

✫彡wordcount: 6.2k

(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink

not proof read

✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Where's the money?"

"That's all of it! Please, Mister-"

The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.

You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.

"I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"

"Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.

He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.

It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.

"It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"

A dull thud.

And another.

A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.

"You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"

You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.

"Mr. Ch-"

"Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"

"N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"

Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.

He's a cop.

He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.

His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.

You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.

"Why you hidin', vamp?"

"Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"

You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.

"Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"

You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."

The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"

"Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"

He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."

You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."

He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"

"I don't know what you mean-"

"Oh, sure."

You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.

"Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."

"You don't go to the corners with him?"

"Nev-"

"If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"

"No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."

He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"

"No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"

Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"

"I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"

The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"

"Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.

"That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"

He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.

Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.

He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."

He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."

"W-"

"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"

"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"

He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.

"Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."

❦

He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.

You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.

"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.

"San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"

"This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.

The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.

"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."

"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."

"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."

"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"

You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.

"If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"

"Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."

Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.

"I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."

You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."

❦

The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.

You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.

There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.

This was Sans room they had locked you in.

You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.

The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.

"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.

"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.

"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."

"Too bad. Not hungry."

He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"

When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."

He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."

Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."

"A man who had a gun to my head..."

"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."

A silence washes over you both for a moment.

"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"

"No."

And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.

"Then why am I here?"

It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.

"Because you will be that wife that I share with."

And peace shattered by Choi San once again.

You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"

"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."

"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"

"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."

"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"

He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.

"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"

"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."

You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.

"Got somethin' to say?"

You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.

"Go on."

"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."

He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."

The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.

"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."

"T-thank you."

"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."

❦

He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.

"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."

He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.

"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."

"Will he be going with us?"

"No, just you and I."

You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.

It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.

Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.

He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.

You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?

You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.

"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."

"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."

You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.

Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.

What he does next absolutely floors you.

He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.

You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"

The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.

"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.

"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."

" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.

"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.

"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"

"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."

❦

The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.

And then all too suddenly...

It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.

You are to be married.

It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.

You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.

Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Hwa walks you down the aisle.

And then it's a blur.

How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?

It seems to have happened in a flash.

You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.

Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.

San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."

Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."

"Yes, Doll?"

"I... I'm a virgin."

"I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"

A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.

"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."

Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.

"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.

"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."

"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."

You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"

"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."

You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"

He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.

"W-what about the skins in our drawer?"

"So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."

"Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.

"Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock."

And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.

Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.

"Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."

His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."

Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"

His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.

"Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.

Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.

"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.

He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.

Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.

"Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.

"I'm yours," you speak more confidently.

"Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.

"Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.

"Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."

"I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.

He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.

When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.

He's become insatiable.

"Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.

He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.

"D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.

His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.

The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.

"I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.

The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.

"I love you."

❦

There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.

"Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.

"Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.

"Oh... Bub."

"Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.

"Stop! I'm not going with you."

A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"

"Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.

Your belly. Swollen with child.

"(Y/n)..."

You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.

"What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"

"Hurry, before he gets back."

"Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."

His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.

"You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"

"Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"

"I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"

"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."

"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"

"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.

"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"

"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."

The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.

"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."

"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.

"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"

San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.

"My Moll has spoken."

Bang.

❦

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez au #ateez fic #choi san smau #choi san x reader #choi san #choi san smut #smut fic

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 1 year

Text

Eddie and Max get out of the hospital at the same time. Eddie's scars are tender. It hurts to move sometimes. But he's got ointment, and pain pills, he'll be fine.

Max can see, not super well, but it improves a little every week. Her arms are mostly healed, she still has slings for when they ache. Her legs are healed, technically, the bones anyway. But she's got braces and isn't supposed to walk on them yet. She can stand on them for a couple minutes off and on to stretch them. But she goes to physical therapy multiple times a week.

Her mom had been rightly worried and upset and freaked out, because they couldn't afford a van for her wheelchair. And yeah she can get out of her wheelchair if she needs too, but its easier on her body if she can just, roll in and out of a vehicle.

So eddie tells her mom he can drive her around. All they need is a ramp for his van. He already had straps in the back to secure things, they use them on Gareth's drum set. The relief on Max's mothers face and the way she hugs him genlty is... too much. He just smiles and looks away, nodding when she thanks him again.

He drives her to therapy twice and decides that her trailer needs a ramp too. A good one. He can't help lift Max's chair, so he just has to watch Max's mom struggle to get her up the stairs.

So he goes home and starts drawing. He can see it in his head, the way he wants it, bigger than it probably needs to be, but he wants the slope to be low impact, because once her arms get strong enough to move herself, he wants her to able to do that. He just... doesn't know how he's gonna manage to DO all this.

But he goes to the hardware store one day, with Wayne, because Wayne knows things, about everything. And Wayne helps him pick out the wood, they estimate the numbers and then buy a little more, just in case. And they load it up, and drop it by Max's house. And the next day, Wayne goes to work, and so does Eddie.

He ties his hair back, shoves himself into a pair of Wayne's old cover alls, and walks slowly over to Max's, she doesn't have therapy today, or the next two. Eddie doesn't think he can get it done by then, but he's gonna fucking get it started if it kills him. He pops a pain pill into his mouth, takes a swig from the water he'd brought with him, takes a look at the drawing he'd made, and gets to work.

Max rolls onto her small porch steps about an hour into Eddie's work, he's been measuring and cutting and just separating things into piles. She says his name softly and he looks up, squinting, he's covered in sweat. And his body fucking hurts. He wipes at his forehead with his arm and limps over to Max. She's holding out a new glass of water.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is ...tight. Like she knows exactly what he's doing. Eddie chugs the water and hands her back the empty glass.

"What? You don't like suprises?" He huffs, smiles with the tease. She smiles back, her bottom lip trembling slightly. He rests his hand gently on her knee, gives it a squeeze, then heads back to where he was,

"Go inside. I can't keep an eye you when I'm working and if you roll off that teeny tiny porch you're mom'll kill me." She snorts, but does as he says. A few minutes later Eddie hears the door slap shut again, and looks up to see another glass of water sitting on the porch. He shouts a thank you, and keeps working.

It only takes another hour before he almost has a breakdown. His skin hurts, he's hot, his hands are shaking. He's downed three more glasses of water. His last thank you had been so strangled that Max had just looked at him and then disappeared into the house.

He's sitting on the porch steps now, hands shaking in his lap, tears falling down his face. He can't take another pill yet. He's got two hours. He takes a few very deep breathes, about to steel himself and get back to work, his hands are on his knees, about to push himself up, when he hears the car.

He looks up, and Steve's car is parking at his house. His hands fall from his knees. But its not just Steve in the car, Nancy and Robin are there too. All of them in old looking jeans, and ratty looking shirts.

Robin's are covered in paint. Eddie's breathing goes shakey as Steve pats Robin's shoulder and points at Eddie. Robin nods and heads for him, doing a weird little run, Eddie can't help but smile. Steve and Nancy are grabbing things from Steve's trunk, Eddie doesn't see what things, before Robin is filling his vision, dropping to her knees in front of him looking concerned as her hands gently cradle his face.

"Hey you. You okay? Max said you might need some help." Robin breaths it out like a sigh, like she'd been holding in her worry. Eddie bites his lip to stop it from trembling anymore and nods. She nods back with a smile.

"Okay cool. Well, help is here. Help being, Steve and Nancy." She nods to them.

"And I'm gonna sit with you until you're feeling a bit better okay? Then you can jump back in." Steve clears his throat aggressively as he walks past her at that. Robin's face scrunches.

"Maybe." She tells Eddie. Steve was ... was he mad? He wasn't looking at Eddie, just helping Nancy get the tools they'd need out of the box they brought. Eddie had some tools, but just for one person. Robin rubs his knee gently and squishes in next to him on the stairs.

"So you got baby sitting duty?" He asks her, his side pressing into her as almost all the fight to stay upright leaves his body. She's steady beside him, holds him up easily, her hand curling around his bicep for extra support.

"Well, Nancy and Steve thought it was probably best that I don't handle tools. So yeah, but hey, babysitting you's not so bad. I mean you're a GREAT conversationalist." Robin smiles brightly at him, watches him try to smile back and then grimace.

"You okay?" Her voice is concerned now, and that apparently draws Steve's attention. He's at Eddie side in the time it takes for Eddie to nod, his face still scrunched in pain. Steve kneels, looks up at him.

"Where are your pills?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head.

"Hour an a half." Eddie grunts out. Steve's head falls and then it's shaking, he sighs, and fuck, he sounds disappointed. And he's glaring at Eddie when he finally looks back up.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Doing this by yourself, with no one here but Max to help you if you got hurt. Did you think about that?" Steve's voice gets louder as he talks.

"Steve." Robin's voice, a warning.

"No. Robin. This is... you could've gotten hurt Eddie." He huffs it, his voice is full of frustration, and anger. Eddie just stares at the ground, tries to breathe around the lump in his throat.

"I know I fucked up alright? Can we spare the lecture?" He grits, his voice is wobbly. Steve doesn't hear it, just huffs again and stands, Eddie sees his hands hit his hips and braces for whatever he's gonna say next.

"What was Max supposed to do if you got hurt? Huh? She can't help you dude! And Wayne's at work! You're all alone out here, when you shouldn't even be out here in the first place!" Steve is openly yelling now, both Nancy and Robin saying his name as Eddie's shoulders shake. Eddie clears his throat roughly, pushing the tight feeling away so he can speak. He shoves himself to his feet with a wince, pain shooting through his body.

"You think I dont know that? I know how fucking alone I am. Thank you. Steve." His hand clenches at the pain in his side, a whimper rips out of his throat, tears burn his eyes and fall. Steve looks startled, then concerned, reaches out to steady him, Eddie slaps his hand away, hard.

"Don't fuckin touch me." He growls, wipes at his eyes with shakey hands and starts walking to his trailer. His foot hits a dip in the ground and he stumbles, Robin catches him, just enough to keep him on his feet. She lets go immediately as he shrugs her touch off gently, and keeps walking.

"FUCK!" he yells it, to no one really, just built up frustration clawing its way out of him. He stomps, carefully, up his own trailer steps, and lets the door slam shut behind him.

Max's trailer door squeaks open, and the three of them turn to see her looking at Steve.

"That was harsh. I told you to come help him, not fucking yell at him and make it worse." The look in her eyes could cut glass. Steve droops under her scrutiny, his hands moving to cover his face.

"Fuck. I know." He groans. He looks up, and over to Robin.

"What's wrong with me?" He sighs, his head hanging again. Robin gives him a sympathetic smile, walks closer, rubs at his arm.

"You care about him. And you were mad. And when you're upset you get...." she trails off, thinking.

"Bitchy." Nancy supplies, moving to his other side, her hand on his shoulder as he glares at her.

"What? You do. Eddie was trying to do something nice. Something amazing, actually, for Max." Steve glares harder, she holds her finger up, silencening whatever he was about to interupt her with.

"And yes he went about it the wrong way. He obviously should have called for help." Robin chimes in, squeezing his arm.

"But no one said he was a genius. He's just trying to help." Nancy finishes, moving her hand over his shoulder soothingly.

"I know that. But he can't... he can't just help others to point that he hurts himself!" Steve flails a little, both Robin and Nancy leaning away from him, out of his flail range. They share a look though. And Max snorts behind him. He wips around to look at her.

"What? What was that for?" He asks, his tone, to his dismay, bitchy.

"Did you hear what just came out of your mouth? Have you met yourself?" She asks, crossing her arms carefully over her chest. She glares at him until he deflates. He sighs. Squints against the sun as he looks up at the sky.

"I need to go apologize." He says. All three girls nod.

"Yep." Nancy says, pressing her lips together so she doesn't smile.

"Definitely. 100% yeah." Robin squeezes his arm again, gives him an encouraging nod.

"If you don't. I'm throwing myself down these steps and telling my mom you left me unsupervised." Max says, her voice flat. Steve's eyes widen, and then he gives her a look.

"Jesus. Alright. I was already going. No need for threats." He calls the last part over his shoulder as he makes his way to Eddie's trailer. He bounces up the steps gingerly and knocks.

"Come in." Eddie's voice calls. Steve opens the door, the living room is empty. He walks down to Eddie's room and his heart sinks. Eddie has one arm pulled up inside his coveralls, it's bent at an interesting angle, he's sitting in the edge of his bed, his face is wet with tears. He flinches a little when he sees it's Steve standing there and that hurts Steve too. He moves closer, just one step and then Eddie chokes out,

"I'm stuck." And Steve moves fast. He kneels in front of Eddie, trying to look at the situation, his arm is caught in the sleeve, his elbow shoved into it tightly, he moves Eddie's wrist and Eddie flinches again.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, keeping his voice quiet. Eddie nods, bites his lip. The sleeve is pressing hard into Eddie's arm, right where one of his scars is. Steve winces in sympathy.

"How attached are you to these?" He tugs on the front of the coveralls, Eddie looks at him.

"I'm not. They're Wayne's old pair." He says, his voice tight from the pain.

"Okay good." Steve says as he slides his pocket knife out, flicks it open, and cuts the sleeve in one fluid motion. Eddie's arm drops free, another whimper falls out of him at the release.

Steve cradles Eddie's arm, holds it gently as Eddie catches his breath. His fingers squeeze Eddie's wrist and he opens his eyes. Looks at Steve.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Steve says, not letting go of Eddie's wrist. Eddie blinks at him. Stares. Then shakes his head.

"Don't be. I fucked up. You were right. I shouldn't have been out there by myself." Eddie frowns, wipes at his wet face. Steve shakes his head then, pushing himself up onto his knees, his back straightening, moving him closer to Eddie's face.

"No. Don't do that. It wasn't your fault. Okay? I shouldn't have yelled. You were trying to help Max. And I just... I didn't wanna find you hurt. Again." Steve looks at Eddie, really looks at him, tries to convey what he means without having to say it. Eddie's eyes are wide, and a little glassy from crying, but Steve sees it, the moment realization hits him.

"Okay. I won't do it again." Eddie nods, moves his wrist in Steve's hand so he can curl his fingers around Steve's wrist.

"Thank you. Just call us. We'll help you. Okay? And Eddie?" Steve swallows, stands and lifts Eddie to his feet, Eddie blinks at him owlishly.

"You're not alone. I'm sorry if we made you feel that way." Steve whispers it, feels his throat burn as Eddie starts crying again. He wipes at his face and shakes his head, looks at Steve with some strange frown smile combo.

"No I know. I just... it's always just been me. And Wayne. Ya know?" He says, holding onto Steve as he sways, dizzy. Steve holds onto him right back.

"Yeah. Well... not anymore." Steve shrugs, smiles, and then tugs Eddie out of his room. They get him another pain pill, Steve rubs some ointment onto the scar on his arm, and then they go back outside.

Nancy is cutting wood while Robin measures and marks. Steve doesn't let go of Eddie's hand until he has him sitting on the porch steps. Max hands him another glass of water.

"You're drinking me out of house and home Munson." She teases, he stares her down as he chugs the water, holds the glass back out to her and wiggles it with a shit eating grin.

"Unbelievable. Sending the girl in the wheelchair to do your errands." She sighs, but smiles when Eddie hops up and gets the door for her, follows her inside to help. He pops back a minute later and hands Steve a peice of paper. It has his plans for the ramp on it.

"This is sort of what I was aiming for." He shrugs, watches Steve look over the paper.

"You did this?" He asks, looking back up at Eddie. Eddie nods, wraps his arms around himself, feeling self-conscious under Steve's gaze.

"What? What's wrong with it?" He asks when Steve says nothing.

"What? Oh no, sorry, nothing's wrong. It's just super detailed." Steve smiles, shakes his head, hands the paper to Robin and Nancy.

"Yeah well, I wanted it done right." Eddie shrugs, Nancy makes a weird moaning sound behind them, both of them look to see her looking down at the paper in her hands, lovingly. She looks back up at Eddie.

"Finally! Someone else detail oriented. I'm making copies of this." She sounds genuine as she waves the paper, smiling at Eddie. He flushes red and moves to sit on the steps again. When his hands stop shaking he helps Robin with the measurements.

She measures, he measures, Nancy and Steve cut.

It takes them two days. But they get it done. The ramp wraps around the side of the trailer, where Max's mom always parks. He bought some plywood as well, to put down on the ground, so Max's wheels wouldn't sink.

The first time she pushes Max down the ramp she nearly cries as she throws herself at Eddie. Hugs him tight and then apologizes when he huffs in pain. Max grabs his hand, looks up at him with her bright blue eyes, and kisses his arm. Just a little peck, smooching the bats on his skin. But he gets it. That's all she needs to do. He knows she's grateful.

Steve shows up at Eddie's trailer the day after they finish the ramp. His eyes are wild and he looks like he's been shoving his hands into his hair for a couple of hours. Eddie gets half way through asking what's wrong and then Steve is kissing him. They almost fall into the trailer with the force of it. Steve catches them, rights them, but doesn't let go of Eddie, just lets out a breathy,

"Sorry sorry." As he keeps them steady. Eddie just smiles dumbly at him. Wayne stands from the couch, clears his throat awkwardly and pats Eddie on the shoulder as he leaves, says,

"Told you them coveralls was lucky boy." He winks as he passes them. Eddie's laughter filling the trailer behind him as Steve's face goes crimson and he drops his head on Eddie's shoulder with a dramatic groan.

#eddie munson #max mayfield #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie blurb #fates Endless Inkwell #fei #my writing #my fic #mine

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nerdpoe · 3 months

Text

Whenever I read anything in comics or in fanfic about "we can't kill the Joker because that would be doing what he wants, we have to let the law take care of him" I just. giggle.

He's shown multiple times premeditation, which indicates he does, in fact, understand the consequences of his actions. By law, he is mentally fit enough to stand trial.

By law, he would more than likely be sentenced to death, many many times over, after being branded a terrorist. He wouldn't even be housed in New Jersey, he'd be sent to someplace like Guantanamo Bay, ultra secure max prison. His execution would be sped up due to flight risk. It would happen out of sight and out of mind, in a glass box so that weird chest bomb of Joker Gas doesn't affect anyone, and then incinerated.

This is comicbookland, so that doesn't happen, but like, if this was the direction Joker's court cases were supposed to go, and it was an assistance program run by Wayne Enterprises that kept stepping in and using legal fuckery to get Joker to Arkham instead of standing trial?

All it would take is just. One little sign off from Barbara. One little tweak.

Joker isn't eligible for that outreach program anymore.

#batman #joker #story prompt i guess #lol #i just think it'd be funny with batman being like #“well i can't condone death but also like the state declared it through valid legal proceedings”#i know it's comicbooklogic that stops joker from standing trial and not an outreach program #because if it was an outreach program barbara would have absolutely destroyed it #or altered it so that joker wasn't viable for it #i don't care about the discourse of “but joker is the best villain for batman!”#no he's not DCU is just too lazy to come up with an actual replacement

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

Up and Out

prompt: ( requested ) while trying to help your boyfriend study for your upcoming history exam, his father comes home early, and shit hits the fan in the Hargrove house.

pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 4.1k

warnings: cursing, angst, dysfunctional families, Neil Hargrove, aggression, physical violence. proceed maturely 🖤

part two

"Baby, this shit isn't making sense anymore, the words are all jumbling together," Billy huffed, tossing his pencil down to the opened textbook on his desk. "Seriously, babe, what's the point?"

"The point is to graduate in a few weeks, Billy," I chuckled, closing the textbook on my lap with my pencil marking my place. "C'mon, it's our last exam before we can kick back for the summer. We get to lay in the sun, not do a damn thing, you can watch me in a bikini, huh?" He tilted his head back to peer at me through his lashes, a grin stretching across his face when I offered him a pointed look. "You gonna stare at me all evening or are you gonna at least try to focus? No bikini for you if you don't pass this exam."

"Oh, that's just cruel." He shook his head before sighing, "All right, c'mon, sweet girl, I'm hungry. Can't study on an empty stomach, can we?"

"No, we still have another two chapters to go over!"

Billy chuckled and stood form his seat to near me on his bed, either hand planting themselves beside my thighs as his head cocked. He smirked, "C'mon, baby, we need energy to study, right?" He leaned in to peck my lips. "Need energy for what we do when we're finished studying, hmm?"

I sighed with a playful roll of my eyes, "Yeah, okay, but maybe we should think about actually having dinner instead of a snack?" I glanced at the watch on his wrist, "It's almost 7:30, B."

Billy cocked his head, "I can take us out if you want?"

"No, sir," I giggled, pushing his chest so he was forced a step back; his spine straightening as I stood up from the bed. "Max is home, too. Growing young ladies need nutrients."

"Oh, so, you only care about Max, is it?" He teased, looking down at me as I stepped up to his chest. "I see how it is, pretty girl, mhm." His hands found security on both of my cheeks, right thumb sweeping over the apple of my cheek.

"No, I'm also concerned about bulking you up, pretty boy," I teased, poking his stomach and making him flinch slightly. I giggled when he couldn't help but smile, egging him on, "C'mon, it does me good. Means you can hold me up, huh?"

"You like that, don't you?" he grinned wolfishly. "When I fuck you against the wall, hmm?" His head descended to press a few open-mouthed kisses to my neck. "Where everyone can hear you getting wrecked? Hmm, baby? My naughty girl."

"Maybe," I shrugged with a knowing smile, lifting my hands to toy with the hair at the base of his skull, "but none the less, you'll need some protein, too. C'mon, maybe I'll even let you help me."

Billy scoffed and pulled up to look at me with confusion, "Me? In the kitchen? C'mon, sweet girl, I burn water. And I remember you kicking me out of the kitchen at Easter."

"Just do as I say and you can't go wrong," I laughed. "Promise, it might even be fun, and I kicked you out 'cause you kept sneaking cookies to my cousin, Juliet, instead of actually helping me."

"Hey, she deserved the cookies," Billy defended.

"You're a menace! She was hyped up the whole afternoon! Aunt Barbra was so pissed trying to wrangle her in."

"Yeah, but she had a major sugar crash, so, you're welcome." He sighed and looked at his watch, nodding, "All right, pretty girl, Neil and Susan aren't supposed to be back for another hour..."

"Perfect!" I chirped. "Plenty of time to cook, eat, and get back in here before they get home, right?"

Billy nodded, "All right, pretty girl. Fine, fine, let's go find something to eat."

"C'mon," I grinned, leaning on my toes to peck his lips and lace our hands together. Billy let me tug him into the kitchen and raid the fridge and pantry, eventually finding things to make a full dinner and once Billy approved, I got to work.

He even reached out to turn the radio knob, lowering the volume to a murmur around us.

Billy leaned against the counter, watching my every move with a small smile. "You cook often?" He wondered in earnest, moving for the fridge to pull a beer out.

"Billy," I warned, "we're still studying."

"Just one, princess," he smirked, "and we'll get back to schoolwork after, hmm? C'mon, one ain't nothing."

I sighed, waving him off, chopping the vegetables on the cutting board in front of me. "Mom works late a lot and Dad's not around as often, so, yeah, I cook pretty often," I shrugged like it didn't bother me. Truthfully, being the eldest sibling was a lot of work, but being the eldest daughter made me the second mother.

And it did bother me. It sometimes felt like I was forced to grow up too soon but dating Billy was something of a saving grace. He made it part of his personal mission to distract me from the turmoils of my home life, and in turn, I tried to do the same.

Harder to do with a father like Neil, but I tried my best. Sometimes, the most I could do is provide a bed for him to lay in with me. Maybe pull a hand through his hair after taking an alcohol-drenched cotton ball to the cut on his cheekbone; whispering about what you're gonna do after graduation. Together.

It was part of the reason you were adamant on studying so hard. Billy had a hard time saying no to you, so, when you showed up that day and insisted you cram before tomorrow's exam, he agreed. Billy wasn't a fan of school but he wasn't about to fail and repeat; actually putting forth some effort into the last exam of the year to ensure his diploma.

From there, you might've been juggling a few ideas of moving to California but since Billy and Max started working on repairing their relationship, he's vocalized to me his hesitation to leave her behind. He also worried that if he left, Neil would turn on Susan - like he did to Billy's mother. Naturally, you understood and figured hanging around Hawkins until Max was a bit older, or until she graduated, wouldn't be the complete end of the world.

Might even give you time to see your younger siblings graduate, too.

Billy's chest then pressed to my back as his arms came around me, nuzzling his nose into my cheek before pressing a kiss. "Can always cook for me if you want," he smirked, trying to get my mind off my younger siblings and parents. "Mmh, something about seeing you all domestic does something to me, baby. God damn."

I chuckled, "You're impossible. And too horny for your own good."

"Can you blame me?" he purred. "You're so damn sexy, ma," his nose nuzzled the skin in front of my ear, forcing a shiver down my spine, "feel how hard I am right now - just from watching you - 'cause you're so fucking sexy."

I couldn't help the outpour of laughter as Billy's arm tightened, rocking us side-to-side as his lips peppered a few kisses over your cheek and neck. "You're impossible," I chuckled.

"I'm in love," he purred, "with my perfect, sweet girl."

"Gross," Max complained as she rounded into the kitchen with a binder in her arms. "Can you maybe not do that where the food is?"

I chuckled and nudged Billy back, but he only pivoted to lean on the counter beside where I was working. "Sorry, Max," I smiled back at her. "Are you hungry, babes?"

"Starving," she nodded with a small smile, brows furrowing as she strained to look at what I was doing. "Since when do you cook?"

I shook my head with a smile, "Since forever. Just never cooked for you guys."

"So... Does that mean you're too busy to look at my essay?"

"Oooh, what's the topic?"

"Shove off, Max, we're busy," Billy sighed.

"Uh," I snapped, glaring up at Billy, "you wanna try that again?"

He sighed, "Yeah, uh... How about she takes a look after dinner?" Billy directed at Max, who fought down a smirk and instead, nodded before taking a seat at the table.

"Better," I smirked at him. "Can you do me a favor, please?"

Billy perked a brow and cocked his head, ready to refuse, when I pouted my lower lip at him. "Oh, that's not fair," he complained.

"I just need you to watch the stove for a second, I have to pee," I chuckled, wiping my hands on a tea towel.

"Oh, so, you want to burn our house down," Max nodded, going over her essay at the table but being unable to resist poking at her brother. Something went down last fall because since then, he wasn't as wound tight and they seemingly had something of a brittle relationship but it was mending by the day.

"I have complete faith you'll keep everything from burning, just gotta give everything a stir every so often, okay?" I smiled at Billy, holding myself steady on his waist to lean on my toes and kiss him. "Be thankful I haven't wrangled you into an apron yet, huh?"

"I would pay you every cent in my name to witness that," Max laughed, earning a glare from Billy when I couldn't help but giggle some.

"Oh, fuck off," he snipped at Max, turning to stir the contents sizzling on the stove. "You're gonna be her victim when she wants to bake. See you in an apron then."

"Wow, don't wanna bake with your girlfriend, Billy?" Max hissed, crossing her arms as I left the kitchen to the sounds of their banter. "Pretty sure that's illegal."

I didn't realize in the minutes it took to pee and wash my hands, the entire house would fill with an unavoidable tension as Susan and Neil arrived home early.

It was eerily quiet when I made it back to the kitchen, eyes widening when Susan was seen in the dining room, holding Max to her chest, tears in both of their eyes as they glared into the kitchen.

"Neil, please, it's fine!" Susan tried, glancing at me.

"They were just studying!" Max chimed in, seemingly coming to Billy's defense. "The whole time, out here!"

"Holy shit," I whispered in shock when Neil was crowding Billy back into the corner counters.

"What did you just say to me?" Neil leered at Billy, whose eyes met mine and panic consumed his face. I jumped when Neil's palm flattened across his cheek, snarling, "Look at me when I'm talking to you, boy!"

"Woah, woah, hey," I made my presence known, ignoring the way Billy glared at me suddenly. "Uh, Mr. Hargrove, um, let's just - why don't we all just take a step back? H-How was the movie?"

I heard Max whisper my name but my sight was on Neil Hargrove, hands held up as if he was a cagey animal. His glare turned from Billy to me, hands slowly loosening their hold on the front of Billy's shirt. "Well, well," he tisked, "look who's here."

"Why don't we all just take a step back, Mr. Hargrove, all right?"

"You tellin' me what to do in my own house, girl?" He spat, eyes narrowing and lips curled in a snarl.

"No, Dad, she's not," Billy stepped in, earning Neil's heavy glare once more. "Okay, leave her outta this, Dad, she's gonna keep her mouth shut, okay? This is between you and me."

Max was trying to wave me over from under her mother's arms but I couldn't move yet - not when Billy was right in the line of fire. Neil nodded, "Yeah, you're right. It is between you and me - us men, right? Hey? But it seems you just don't listen, do you? Got a real hard head, isn't it, boy?"

I gulped when Billy shook his head, "No. What're you - "

"Don't talk back to me!" Neil yelled in Billy's face; veins in his neck bulging and skin turning red from his anger. "I'm outta ways to teach you your lessons, but you just gave me a new idea."

"Dad - "

"If you won't listen to my words, you'll listen to her scream," Neil shoved Billy back into the counter, forcing him to lose part of his balance; several plates shattering over the floor as Neil's boots cracked over them. My eyes widened when Neil made a beeline for me, his longer strides bringing him in front of me in nanoseconds. It didn't leave enough time for me to get out of the way, and the speed of which my feet backed me up wasn't fast enough.

The moment Neil started for me, it caused the entire house to erupt in chaos with Susan and Max yelling at Neil, the man's hands fisting the front of my shirt to push me back into the wall, and Billy surging towards his father.

When my back met the wall and felt Neil's fists charge into my chest hard enough to bruise, his grip was almost instantly ripped away as Billy was using the man's momentum to push him away from me via the side.

"Oh, my God," I gasped when Billy pushed his father hard enough into the opposite wall that a few picture frames fell. "Billy - "

"Don't you ever put your hands on her again, you hear me?" Billy seethed in Neil's face; his grip like iron to keep his father in place. "Don't you even look at her - don't talk to her - you don't even think about her, you get me? Or you and I are gonna have some serious fucking problems."

"Billy," Susan called tearfully.

"You can take your anger out on me, that's fine - I can fucking take it," Billy growled, shoving his father into the wall again. Another frame shattered to the floor of the hallway. "But you ever even so much as look at her - let alone touch her again? I'll fucking kill you. Hear me? I'll fucking kill you."

"Billy," I tried this time, unsure if I should approach him or not. "Baby, c'mon, let him go. We can get outta here, c'mon."

"Listen to your little bitch, Billy," Neil sneered.

"What'd you call her?" Billy yelled, damn near pressing Neil through the fucking wall. "Huh? What'd you say? Repeat that! Right now!"

"Billy, it's not worth it," I tried again, feeling fearful that Neil would have an intense retaliation later because of all this. "Sweetheart, please," my head shook, seeing the way Billy trembled from adrenaline.

Billy shoved Neil back once more and let go, his breathing erratic as I took this as a sign to move forward. Cautious of Neil, I wrapped my hand around Billy's bicep and he let me pull him back a step. The two glared heavily at one another, Neil coming back into his mind as Billy pulled me behind him. "Get out," Neil growled. "Both of you! OUT! NOW!"

"Not an issue," Billy assured, pushing me back towards his room. I opening the door and moved out of the way, Billy slamming it shut and locking it. "C'mon, baby, we gotta go."

"Billy - "

"Nah, nah, nah," he panted, picking up my bag to hand it to me, "just get your shit, baby, we gotta go. I'm not letting you stay here, c'mon, we're outta here."

"And leave Max? And Susan?" I shook my head.

"He's not gonna touch 'em," Billy moved like a tornado to grab the things needed. I tried not to be a hindrance and got my shit together as he was rapidly packing a separate bag. "I gotta get you outta here - "

"Billy?" I paused his movements, his eyes wild and shining with unshed tears. "Baby, hey, you gotta promise me you'll stay with me. Please, don't come back here, just stay with me tonight."

Billy shook his head, "Baby - "

"No, no excuses," I argued.

"I was going to agree," he chuckled once, shaking his head. "C'mon, grab my keys for me, sweet girl. We gotta go, right now."

I sighed in relief and moved to rummage for his keys on the dresser as he packed his duffel. I waited nervously as Neil could be heard yelling about God knows what, Billy flinching when it sounded like something crashed in the living room.

When Billy was ready and he had his jacket on, he took my hand and kept me close to him, peering out into the hallway through the cracked door. His hand trembled in mine, making me tighten my grip.

"Psst! Billy!" Max hissed from her room, peaking out as well. When his eyes turned to her, she begged, "Can I come, too? Please?"

He nodded, gesturing her forward and the girl shot out with her backpack, a duffel, and her skateboard. Neil was rampaging in the living room, making us pause.

"Hey, hey," Billy turned to me at the end of the hall and whispered, handing me his bags, "go on, get Max in the car. I'll be right out."

"Billy," I shook my head. "Don't, please, just walk out with us."

"Go, it's okay, I'm right behind you, baby," he nodded, nudging us forward. The movement caught Neil's attention, who turned his red-tinted eyes towards us and scowled.

"Maxine!"

"Go, go, go," I pushed her on, heading for the door as Susan wept at the dining room table. Neil took several powerful strides towards us, making me push Max behind my body as she fumbled with the lock on the door; but Billy was intercepting him. "Oh, fuck," I breathed when Neil reached for me but was pushed back into the coffee table by Billy. Well 'pushed' was actually more like Billy fisting Neil's shirt and all but lifting him from his feet, sending his father careening through the low bearing table.

"Didn't I warn you already? Stay down," Billy sneered, standing over his father as Max finally got the door open.

"Billy, c'mon," I called, holding Max on the front porch so she couldn't watch anything else transpire. "Billy!"

I couldn't hear whatever son told father, but it was enough that Neil didn't even try to get up from where he laid on the broken table. When Billy took a step back, panting heavily, I nudged Max again to head down the stairs with Billy's car keys as I reached into the home and caught Billy's hand.

He let me tug him out of the house, door slamming shut behind us, and Max had his Camaro unlocked and already in the backseat. "Are you okay?" I worried, seeing the only visible injury being the blemish to his cheek.

"I don't know yet, doll, c'mon," he took the bags I carried and loaded them in the trunk as I got in the passenger seat.

The entire drive to my house was deadly quiet, not even the radio on. My mom's car wasn't in the driveway, meaning we wouldn't have questions to answer when we got in. Billy parked on the street and grabbed our bags as I lead Max to my front door.

Billy's been there plenty times before, so, he entered behind us and shut the front door. He paused to kiss the top of my head and mutter, "I'm gonna hop a shower."

I nodded back, watching him jog upstairs to my bedroom. After a brief tour of my home to Max, she decided to hang with me in the kitchen as I got started on making us a new dinner.

Billy remained upstairs until my parents came home, toting my younger siblings with them. "Oh," Mom smiled when she noted Max and I. "Well, this is a surprise! Hi, Maxine!"

"It's Max, Mom," I amended.

"Oh, right right, sorry," she breathed, moving to greet me. "How was your day, honey?"

I shared a solemn look with Max before half-smiling at my Mom, "Oh, you know, new day, same stress."

She nodded in agreement, "I'll say. Are you staying for dinner, Maxine - I mean, uh, Max?"

The girl nodded, "Yeah, uh, if that's okay?"

"Perfectly okay," she assured, glancing at what I was preparing. "But my daughter's goal is to kill us with spice! Damn, girl!"

"Oh, please," I chuckled. "You think you can do better? My food at least has flavor."

Mom smirked, taking the wooden spatula, "Watch and learn, child."

"Uh-huh," I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Pay attention, Max, she swears she's some culinary God."

"I've yet to hear complaints that say otherwise!" Mom cracked as I exited the kitchen; hearing her start a conversation with Max as my father was planted in the living room, TV on, and my younger siblings were heard in the basement playing.

I jogged upstairs and dodged into my room, spying Billy on the side of my bed with his head in his hands. As I quietly shut the door, I noticed the subtle shake of his shoulders and felt my heart drop to my feet as I moved towards him.

"Hey, hey," I whispered, his arms dropping as he instantly pulled me into his embrace, face burrowing into my neck. My heart wept for the boy. "Baby, it's okay. You're okay," I promised in a hushed tone, holding him tightly as his tears wet my neck. "You're safe, you're okay, you're safe with me, hmm?"

"I'm so sorry," his voice was muffled. Yet, he made no move to pull back. "I'm so fucking sorry, baby, you didn't deserve that."

"It's not your fault," I sighed. "It's not, baby, I don't blame you. How can I? You literally saved me, B. I should be thanking you."

"Never should've happened."

"No," I agreed, sighing after, "but it did and it's gonna be okay. I'm still here with you... You're still here, with me. We got Max out, Mom's down there cooking dinner with her. And don't even worry about it, B, you guys can stay here as long as you want."

He nodded and pulled back slightly, sniffling and wiping a hand down his mouth and chin. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't," I assured. "It's not your fault."

"I just... I just want to protect you, sweetheart," he whispered. "How can I against him?"

"You figured a way out tonight," I smiled lightly, pushing a curl from his forehead. "But, uh, maybe we should hang at my place for a few weeks? Until things cool off a bit? Max is more than welcomed here, too."

He nodded, "Yeah, few weeks."

"Under the radar," I smiled.

He tried to return it but tears gathered, "I'm so sorry, pretty girl, you should've never - I should've - "

"Billy, you did what you could," I whispered, pulling him back into my embrace. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with that."

His head shook, voice in a broken whisper, "I can handle it. But I can't handle it if you get hurt. I couldn't handle that, baby."

"I'm not hurt," I assured, keeping him close. "And you and Max are safe, hmm?"

He nodded, pausing to take a sobering breath in before whispering, "Always safe with you."

"Bout time you realized," I couldn't help but tease lightly, kissing his forehead before lifting his chin. "You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

"Yeah," he chuckled dryly, "including getting between my father and I, huh?"

"He has no right to treat you like that, B, no fucking right," I tried to sound convincing. "And I'd always do whatever I could to help you."

He nodded, leaning his forehead to my own as one of his hands tangled with mine; leaving the other to lift to his cheek and gently stroke the skin and stubble left. "I love you, sweet girl," Billy promised in a whisper.

"Good, 'cause I'm kinda obsessed with you."

It made Billy laugh and pull back some, "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," I nodded with a growing grin. "Might just have to keep you here with me, all to myself."

This time, a more fond smile spread across his lips, "Wouldn't hear me complaining. I think I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," he nodded, leaning in to kiss me. "But I honestly think I'd be happy anywhere, so long as I get to wake up next to you."

"You'll never be alone, Billy," I promised. "Not with me."

A promise I had every intention of keeping.

oh, billy, you deserved so much better. they did you so dirty, baby boy. 😭

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #requests open #billy hargrove angst

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stevethehairington · 1 year

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Dustin swings.

The first punch to Steve’s hands is unexpectedly hard enough that Steve has to step back to steady himself.

Under any other circumstance, that would’ve had Dustin grinning and laughing and teasing the shit out of Steve.

Today, he doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

His mouth stays twisted, an anguished gash that feels so out of place on a face that stands for everything Steve has come to associate with Dustin: bright, bubbling laughter, a permanent grin so wide it shows off every single one of his teeth; nothing but pure happiness and joy.

But there's not a trace of that in Dustin anymore. There hasn't been since... since.

It fucking hurts to see Dustin like this. So broken, so pained. And the worst part is, Steve doesn't know what to do with it. Doesn't know how to fix it. Because, well, he can't fix it. He can't bring Max back. He can't bring Eddie back. He can't undo all of the death and destruction and pain and suffering. No matter how much he wants to.

Steve knows, all too well, that handling Dustin with kid gloves won't do shit either. Gentle touches and kind words and the kind of taking care that comes in the aftermath of such great tragedy isn't going to help. Dustin has seen, has experienced, has survived through far too much for empty promises of "it'll pass" and "it will get better" and "it gets easier" to mean anything.

Four times around and it hasn't gotten better or easier at all.

The only thing Steve can do to help is to be there. To be a steady presence in Dustin's life, to offer him the silent support he needs, to let Dustin work through his grief and his anger and his pain at his own pace.

So he does.

He stands there and he lets Dustin pummel his hands, pounding his tightly wound fists over and over and over. Lets him scream and shout and grunt and cry as he streamlines every overwhelming feeling into this one action.

(Steve's hands hurt, they sting from Dustin's punches, and he thinks they might bruise, if palms even can bruise, but he thinks of it as some sort of penance. For letting Dustin go through all of this. For not protecting him better in the first place.)

Steve can't quite make out all that Dustin's saying as he hits, but he catches bits. A couple of "why"'s, a few "it's not fair"'s, one "it should have been me" that tears through Steve's own chest and has him losing his breath and his footing, briefly, once more.

After a couple of minutes, Dustin's energy starts to lag. His breathing comes heavier, but his punches come slower and slower, until all of the sudden he's collapsing into Steve's arms, burying his face into Steve's chest as his sobs wrack through his body.

Steve catches him, secures his arms around Dustin and holds him close, holds him tight. He swallows down his own sobs threatening to break through because fuck, fuck, fuck he never wanted this for Dustin. The horror, the hurt, the guilt. That was supposed to be Steve's to carry, and Steve's alone. But he couldn't even do that right either.

He can feel Dustin's tears, hot and wet, down the side of his neck. Can hear the snot that stuffs his nose and clogs his lungs. Can hear the absolute heartbreak in his words as he mumbles out his desolation into Steve's shirt.

But Steve holds his own grief in. Holds his own pain. Because he needs to be strong for Dustin. Needs to be his rock right now.

Steve can't stop it. He can't take it away. He can't fix it.

But he can do this. He can let Dustin punch him until he can't anymore. And he can hold Dustin as he cries.

It's not much, but it's something.

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #stranger things #this was actually written as a response to something else that somebody else wrote but i wanted to post it bc i like how it turned out #so if thats why it feels like it starts in the middle lol thats why #but yeah steve finds dustin grieving and kicking the shit out of eddie's old (empty) trailer and steve tells him to hit his hands instead #mack writes #macks ficlets

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lexkent · 27 days

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I've been accepted into grad school in a neighboring state and in the city I've lived in for the past 10 years, and I'm rotting from the inside out trying to come to a decision

pros for staying: I love my second floor apartment with a balcony and feel comfortable that the landlord isn't some monster. It would be so much easier to stay put. I have a summer and fall job secured here. the classes are regular M-F. there's a part time option if it gets to be too much. I have 1 cousin moving here for grad school (different school same city). there's a better chance of meeting fellow lgbt people here. this is a fun and diverse city with a never ending selection of things to do.

cons for staying: I already spent 4 years at this school so there isn't that thrill of going to a new university it would almost feel like returning to high school. I don’t feel a ton of school pride. it's not particularly safe here (I regularly hear gunshots, etc from my apartment.) I'm tired of the stress of the Mad Max driving situation here. I can't go on night walks without needing to be aware of my surroundings. I don't think I would want to be a Beginner social worker here (though I do want to return someday with more skills and experience). I feel like 10+ years is a long time to live in just one city. my therapist would be low key disappointed if I stayed. staying might feel like settling.

pros for leaving: it's exciting to go to a new school. smaller class sizes should mean a better chance to connect with professors and better chance to get an assistantship to help cover tuition. I could go on walks at night without needing to look over my shoulder. I would prefer to be a Beginner social worker in this city. new city means new places and parks to explore. my therapist seems to think going here and having a fresh start would be most beneficial to me. some cousins and friends are within 1.5 hours of this city. Ceno should be moving there soon!! I've been approved for an apartment with a deck.

cons for leaving: I hate moving more than anything in the world no matter how much I mentally prepare myself it's always 100x worse than I imagined. classes are Friday and Saturday (how am I supposed to drive home and see family/friends with 2 years of weekend classes?) middle of nowhere city. lack of diversity. I don't have a summer job lined up. there is always risk and uncertainty signing with new landlords because they can make your life total hell. it has been near impossible to find an apartment that allows cats I've been looking every day for months. I was just accepted for an apartment i like (though I learned it is ground floor despite the listed pictures which means my cats won't be able to freely enjoy the outdoor deck space like they could with a balcony and there could be a safety issue considering open windows) but with 1st month rent + security deposit + $600 cat fee + $70 cat rent, my bank account is going to wiped out to nothing (I've been crying lol)

#someone tell me what to do #text

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blakelybeau · 2 months

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Am I the only one who loves Maxvid having a huge power imbalance but reversed?

Max would be in charge and likely initiate it.

I can see David not reciprocating and feeling like he has no choice in this unhealthy relationship.

It would probably start off as a power trip. Max doesn't really care about mushy gushy things, he likes knowing that he has control over an adult. If he wants David to be miserable, then he's miserable. If he wants David to be happy, then he's happy. But it's all at Max's discretion.

Picture this:

Maybe it started to escalate from humiliation. A taunt or tease because David is such a wet towel. A door mat. We know Max is empathetic but it's something that develops during the series. Early seasons? Literally tried to kill David episode 2.

Max pushes David just hard enough and the counselor just breaks down, curls into himself and sobs against the dirt.

He's gross, and his tears are muddying his cheeks. But for some reason Max can't help but feel so damn bad.

And he hates that, he doesn't feel victorious like he usually does. It's not the same as taking control of an adult. He liked knowing David's mentality is dependent on him. He's finally calling the shots and he's the one in power despite being up against an adult.

And okay, maybe he's been a little harsh on David. Maybe there really is only so much one guy can take. But David's put up with everything else, so what gives?

When Max wants his phone, he takes his phone. When Max wants David to get hurt, he makes sure he gets hurt. When Max wants David to be happy, he'll amuse him and reign in his gang.

David takes all of it. He takes it when Max ties him to the flagpole, he takes it when the other kids attack him, he takes it when everyone belittles him; David's built to take it.

And at first he thought he wanted to break him. He wanted David to see how fucked up the world is, it's not good and if you're weak-willed and gullible you're just easy pickings. Like David.

He just didn't realize how easy it was to pick him apart.

How was he supposed to know the final straw was something as stupid as The Order Of The Sparrow?

David put up with everything else, it wasn't just Max who made his life hellish anyways.

Everyone degrades David. Everyone hurts David.

He's finally got this man where he wants him, fingers dug into soaked grass and body heaving with sobs. There's nothing near a smile on that perpetually haply face. There's no chiding or annoying quote from what he could only assume was some sort of Facebook post by some white soccer mom who unironically uses the #blessed sign.

No, David's groveling, unraveling right before him in the dirt and rain and Max can't control this because he isn't sure he can fix it.

And maybe it's when his hands grip into stupid gelled red that he realizes how uncomfortable he is. He knows why, he knows an unpredictable David takes away his security.

And it's hard, it's so hard to proceed. David's eyes look miserable, face caked in mud and tears and rain and saliva and

And he actually snapped him. But it wasn't rage like he expected because let's be honest, David's definitely a fucking time bomb waiting to go off. Max has seen it, he's seen some of that anger slip. Anger that slips when Max decides it can.

David is grief stricken, like this was the most devastating outcome. Like someone had come and slit his own fucking mothers throat in front of him.

Which is stupid, it's just a fucking bonfire.

But there's nothing left. David doesn't have motivational words, he's not getting up. The only reason he can see his face is because Max forced it with a grip to red locks.

And in his indecisiveness, Max is reminded of his father and mother.

His mother who would threaten to leave until Max's father beat her black and blue, and then she'd cry against his hands when the man would whisper those sweet nothings after.

A toxic fucking cycle, Max knows. But he can't care about a woman who puts her shit husband before her son.

It always soothed her though, despite the inflicter being the source of comfort. And it's gross, but he's already wet and gross from the rain.

When Max sits down and yanks David's head against his thigh, he understood by the lack of reaction just how out of it this guy is. Which is fine, Max can deal with malleable. That's all David fucking is; putty in the hand of any keeper.

David's built to take things. To hurt. To handle anything. But he doesn't look prepared when Max loosens his grip on his mussed fringe. He's not coherent enough in his weird fucking mental freak out to get up or question it, but Max can tell by the furrow of his stubby brows that he's confused. Lost. Psychology is a stupid fucking degree, but it's not a stupid field of study. You can make or break a person with shit like that.

He's read all about it in the novels at the library. How you can impact the psyche. He sees it with his parents, when his mom finds solace in his father despite him being the abuser.

And he finds that in David too, when he presses his fingers against David's cheek and strokes against skin.

The way his eyes lid over, the way those miserable sobs quiet down into gasping little huffs. A reminder David isn't cured by Max's generosity, but that the affects are instantaneous.

And here he was, sitting with the counselor who so pathetically lays crumpled in the mud. His only reprieve being Jean clad thighs of his camper.

He's at Max's mercy.

Max doesn't know when he starts talking, but it's nothing above a low murmur.

Things like "It's okay Davey, sometimes your best just isn't good enough." "You're going to cry over assholes who left you in the mud?" "If you'd listened to me in the beginning, this wouldn't hurt so much."

It doesn't sound like him, it's not even good comfort. David doesn't seem to care though, not when his shaking seemed to subside despite the heavy rain. Not when bloodshot eyes finally close.

And Max realizes why he likes controlling David. His content is rested solely on Max. The one who was really in charge.

It feels good to be the one in control, but especially to be in control of someone who's bigger than him. Older. Someone who should be in charge.

Max likes feeling like the grown up, and he likes making David feel like a child. Helpless, out of control. Dependent.

Maybe Dad's onto something.

#maxvid

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ridiculously-over-obsessed · 9 months

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Hey guys. So as a lot of you know I was supposed to be moving out next week but I had to drop out of uni and as a result the accomodation I was going to move into isn't an option anymore. You also know that my home situation is abysmal and severly detrimental to my mental health, but I'm currently trapped here because of everything that is going on with my mother and her bullshit.

I need help raising the money to save for a security deposit and first month's rent because my financial situation is shit on account of me being too mentally ill to work and on disability, and as a result of my mother giving me zero breaks with the rent despite wanting me to move out asap. To save on my own would mean me having to wait to move out until next year, and honestly I don't think I can survive that long because I am going insane already, and I haven't been this low in a very very long time. The last time I was this low I ended up in A+E because I was scared about what I would do, and I can't do that again.

I know the world is a bin fire rn, that things are stupid expensive and everyone is strapped for cash, but I don't have another choice at this point. I have to get out of here, and urgently, any help even reblogging the post is greatly appreciated.

#max rambles a lot #gofundme #go fund me #fundraising #mutual aid #signal boost #please help

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writerwhowritesao3 · 3 months

Text

What Is And What Should Never Be Chapter 5: June, 1985

Excerpt:

A crack of lightning lit up the sky. The accompanying thunder rumbled immediately after.

"Billy. Can you just get in the car, please?"

Billy pressed his lips together, like he was about to keep arguing. But then, thank God, he opened the passenger door and got in.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Billy shivered in his seat; he was completely soaked, from his head to his shoes. Jim wished he had a towel or a blanket or something to give him, but he didn't. Billy reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled and flat pack of cigarettes. It was, predictably, also wet. Billy opened it anyway. When he saw that the cigarettes inside were ruined, he sighed and let his head fall back on the headrest.

Jim pulled out his own pack of smokes from the center console and held it out to Billy. He mumbled a thanks and accepted one. Jim handed him a matchbook and took a cigarette for himself.

In the grand scheme of things, was giving a teenager a cig really that bad?

"You know how stupid it is to be out here like this, right?" Jim asked.

Billy kept his eyes on the windshield, watching the rain hit the glass.

"Coulda gotten hit by a car," Jim continued. "Coulda slipped and broken your ankle or something."

Billy still gave no response. He kept puffing away at his smoke.

"What if something from the Upside Down came through and attacked you? Did you even think about that? What was the plan if that happened?"

"Run fast," Billy finally said with a shrug.

Jim sighed and started the car.

"So," he said. "Just decided to take a walk, huh?"

"Mmhm."

Jim knew in his gut that that was a load of horseshit. He wanted to ask Billy directly if something had happened at home. Something that made him run out, even in the middle of a storm. He didn't have any bruises, at least. Not visible ones anyway. But that didn't mean anything.

"Haven't seen you in a while," Jim said casually. "Been keeping busy?"

"Yeah. I've been taking a lot of shifts at the pool," Billy said. "Need to save up for college and stuff."

"That's great! How are things at the pool? You like it?"

"It's alright. I mean, it's a job, you know?"

"Sure, I get that," Jim nodded.

"My coworkers are total dicks. Except for this one girl. She's pretty cool."

"Oh yeah?" Jim asked. He decided to tease him a little. "You gonna ask her out?"

Billy snorted.

"Aren't you not supposed to shit where you eat?" he said.

Jim laughed.

"Smart," he said. "That little life lesson usually takes a few years to learn."

Billy didn't respond. He took a final drag of his cig, stubbed it on the inside of the top flap of his ruined pack, and slipped the butt inside. Jim remembered that he didn't just toss the butt like most people did.

"How's everything otherwise?" Jim said, desperate to keep a conversation going.

"It's fine."

"You get to hang out with your friends more now that school's out?"

"Not really," Billy said. "I'm scheduled during the day and weekends a lot. And Nancy and Jonathan are at the Post every day. And Steve's been scheduled for a bunch of evening shifts. So. We've only been able to hang out a couple times, like, as a group. Sometimes Steve and I have the same day off though. But, like, sometimes there's family shit we have to do."

Jim nodded. He didn't want to tell Billy that finding the time to see your friends only got harder as an adult. The kid seemed glum enough already.

"How is your family?" Jim asked.

"Fine."

"Max?"

"Annoying. But fine. Isn't she, like, always at your house?"

"Yeah, but I'm usually at the station when she's over," Jim said. "Your stepmom? She's doing okay?"

"Mmhm."

"And your dad?"

"He's fine."

"I think I overheard Max mention to El that his hours were cut?" Jim asked with a carefully casual tone.

"Oh...yeah," Billy said. "It was a union thing. It's done now, though, so he's working regular hours again."

Security guards had unions. Labor unions had disputes all the time. It was certainly plausible that Neil Hargrove's hours had been cut because of a union thing. Logically, Jim had no reason to not believe Billy.

"Gotta stick with the union, right?"

"My dad isn't a scab," Billy said.

Billy was defending his father's honor. It was entirely possible that Neil Hargrove was the type of parent who taught his son about labor unions and fair wages, and who imparted values like 'don't be a dirty scab'. It was possible that Neil Hargrove wasn't the type of parent who beat his son—or if he was, it was possible that he didn't cross the line between legal corporal punishment and abuse.

But it was also possible that Neil Hargrove was abusive. It was possible that Jim's gut feeling about him was spot-on.

#billy hargove #jim hopper #billy hargrove and jim hopper #harringrove #harringrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction

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angels--trumpet · 2 months

Text

Milky Comfort

Hi, another goopy handful of wiggly worms for you 🫵 my followers

Cw: 2714, lactation, A/O/B

Not as NSFW as you proably think it's gonna be

Yuji also was a bit of a rebellious kid, well not rebellious he wasn't doing any of this to get under people's skin he just did whatever his curiosity took him, and if that led him into abandoned buildings with friends, Bullies that need a good knock on the skull to get there shit together, or in a bar/club/parlor that he really wasn't old enough to get into, then yeah.

Yuji was one of those omegas that could lactate without pregnancy, it was a bit embarrassing, honestly, so he always ended up just using loose hoodies and clothing for the max amount of comfort. In case he starts dripping and all that

He was just curious and having fun.

The fun of going out like this was always because of the possibility of getting caught, but it wasn't like he actually wanted to be caught!

So on one of the many nights, he was out with a random group of classmates from his 3rd hour class, they get caught, all of them leaving yuji behind. Now usally Yuji would have cleared the distance of a football field in under a minute, but at the current moment, his chest decided its a great time to leak causing a sudden pain to spike on his sensitive chest and forcing him to try and hide among the crowd of customers.

The man in front of Yuji turned around enough to look at him, elbow resting on the counter edge and chin in hand with a smug little smirk on his face.

In his rush to hide away, he decided to sit right behind the biggest man he's ever seen using his body like a shield to hide himself while the security chaced after the teenagers that ran outside leaving the parlor with chuckling patrons that soon ebbed away.

He wore a blindfold made from bandages, but it felt like the man could see Yuji anyway.

It's creepy but also kinda cool?

"Let me feed off you and I won't tell anyone you were a bad boy today"

Maybe he should of just let himself get caught but honestly curiosity got the best of him so that's how he ended up here.

He should be scared, but honestly, he wasn't all that afraid of the guy. Even if he was freaky tall and freaky muscular for a dude that was supposed to look like slender man.

In a hotel room far away from the smoke and flowing booze with a man whose arms felt a LOT thicker and stronger than how they looked wrapped around his waist And a warm tongue lapping away at his nipple easing the milk out gently before he started really feeding. And feed he did easing the presure in Yuji chest within an hour, honestly, it was nice and Yuji couldn't help the purr that eased out of him and got an answering muffled rumbling Purr in response back. When Yuji left that night he was left with the memory of how nice it was to do that but pushed it in the back of his head for later. Then he meets the guy again, almost like he was looking for yuji standing at his door while his grandfather was out.

So Yuji let's him in and let's him feed again since Yuji makes a bit too much milk and it honestly hurts if he doesn't get rid of it somehow so why not let some random guy drink it instead of letting it go to waste?

And that's how he got to know Gojo.

But there was something bothering Gojo, Yuji can feel it like he had a dark cloud over his head that he hides with a big goofy smile.

The man was kind of weird and had a bit of an edge to him like he was covering something up but he was fun to be around and paid Yuji good money to let him drink off him so Yuji didn't push to ask.

Body curled on his side, pressed tight around Yuji like he was a comfort he couldn't live without, lips wrapped around his nipple tight to not let a single drop go to waste nosing up into the soft breast with a nearly slacked face.

It shows whenever he feeds though.

Tension all gone just a softness that doesn't show when Gojo isn't feeding.

Yuji was confused but never pushed.

It's a shame cause the guy was seriously pretty. Yuji had no idea what type Gojo was, there was just no scent what so ever coming off the man and it didn't look like he wore scent blockers from the times Yuji snuck a peak under his collar and sleeves. Maybe he just never got a designation? It's not impossible, just super rare. Then again the man can purr so maybe he was an omega with no scent?

Gojo became very generous when his grandfather got sick, leaving an extra tip, sending over food, telling Yuij to eat more fruits to improve the sweetness of the milk, even sending him gifts.

He spent an entire year doing this with Gojo, it was good money like a part-time job except the pay was over what the manager got at any retail store.

Like a courting alpha.

Yuji rolled with it, he enjoyed the mans company he even liked there little dates and meet ups, he especially loved feeding days because it eassed the pressure in his chest and he got to have someone physically close in such a domestic position it soothed his inner omega to do it.

When Grandfather passes away Yuji wasnt alone when it happens. Gojo is right beside him, pulling Yuji close and letting him cry even if he knows his grandfather would yell at him for it. A little cry won't hurt, just a minute.

They are found like that by Megumi, Gojo's student who demands something from him and tells Yuji his friends will parish if he because of it.

And for the first time ever he smells Gojo, such a nice scent that he cuddles up close nose pressed right into the mans chest to take in the scent, an alpha after all.

Yuji, of course, tries to lead the way, but gojo just takes over, grabbing Megumi arm and warping them right to Yujis school. No time to gasp at how cool it is because Gojo and Megumi are gone again.

Yuji accepts, feeling like he already bonded too much with Gojo now to let him disappear.

In the end, the thing they searched for was retrieved and Megumi and his friends were only mildly injured. Since seeing this happen and the situation with his grandfather leaving him all alone Gojo decides to ask Yuji if he would like to come with him.

Now attending a new school and visiting Gojo and his students to drop off lunches and treats for their hard work, they risk their lives every day after all, it was the least Yuji could do and for Gojo he gets a special treat just for him.

Extra bits!

They do get married a few years later and Yuji is seen as bumpkin by the higher-ups and the Gojo clan, but he's an omega and can give Gojo a heir so they don't say it to his face mainly because Gojo looks at them a bit scary when they say anything at all like that

Yuji ends up living with Gojo and becoming his omega once he graduates

Yuji still becomes good friends with Megumi and Nobara and sometimes helps them because of his crazy strength. He thinks about joining them, but Gojo puts a very hard no to it.

Yuji works in medical with Shoko :>

#Angels Note Dump #goyuu #gojo x yuji

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formula1fanfiction · 9 months

Text

Max Verstappen / Lando Norris

Title: Trophy trouble

Pairing: Max Verstappen / Lando Norris

Characters: Max Verstappen / Lando Norris

Prompt: Norris- Max, Norris broke the Max’s trophy in Hungary. Max decided punish Norris for it. Top Max–Bottom Norris.

rating: 18+

A/N: Max's punishment is soft because he really loves Lando and his annoying laughter.

"Stop laughing, this is supposed to be a punishment." Max snaps as he fastens Lando's left hand to the bed post, the Brits right arm already secured to the other side. Lando cannot stop laughing though, Max isn't really angry at Lando but the contagious laughter is making it hard for him to stay in character.

"You will be quiet, or I will gag you." Lando bites his lip to suppress the next wave of laughter. Lando pulls at the restraints on his wrists, just to test them more than anything, he's naked and hard and wants Max to just get a move on with whatever he has planned for the evening.

"You don't just get to break my trophy and walk around unpunished." Lando laughs again, there's just something funny about dominant Max and Lando just isn't a serious guy, he always laughs during inappropriate moments, that's just the way he is and Max knows this.

"Right change of plan, if you laugh again, i'll gag you then leave you tied to the bed while I jerk off." Max reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the night stand raising his eyebrow at Lando as he does so. The Brit whines pathetically. "No, please." Max pours a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "That's what I thought, you need to be a good boy for me Lando."

Lando manages to bite back his smiles and laughter for this part, he knows he needs to be good and stay still. Max circles Lando's entrance with the tip of his finger and gently pushes it inside. Lando moans and pulls on his restraints, it's a bit embarrassing really but it's been a little while since they last fucked and Lando is super excited to feel Max inside of him once again. Max twists and turns his finger, only then does he start to thrust with it, feeling Lando open up around him, he lets the first finger slip out, only to slam it back in again, accompanied by a second one. Lando throws his head back into the mountain of pillows and moans loudly as Max eventually works his way up to four fingers.

"Max please, i'm ready." Lando whines pulling harshly on his restraints, it feels like Max has been fingering him for hours, he desperately needs to feel his cock now. "Naughty boys who break trophies get punished not rewarded." Max continues to fuck Lando with his fingers, laughing at the pathetic whines leaving the Brits throat. "I see it's me who is laughing now and not you." Max smiles at Lando's glare but finally lets the fingers slip out of him.

Max lifts Lando's legs and wraps them around his waist, the Brit gasps feeling the head of his cock press against his entrance and slowly starts to sink inside. Lando bites his lip and pulls on his restraints once again. "You're too slow Max, this is torture."

Max laughs at Lando's words. "You are so dramatic Lando, you shouldn't have been laughing so much earlier." Max leans down and brushes his lips against Lando's, not quite a kiss, just lips pressing against lips. "You need to be punished Lando, you shouldn't have broken my trophy."

Lando throws his head back into the cushions, groaning in frustration, denying him pleasure because of that stupid trophy, not like he broke it on purpose. "Max..." Lando clenches down tightly around, hoping for a little bit of something, anything. He should have broken it on purpose, at least that would have warranted the torture. "Max please, I want to touch you, I want you to touch me." Lando whines extra loud pulling on his restraints for emphasis.

"Sorry Lando, not going to happen." Max smirks at him as he slowly pulls out of him, just leaving the tip of his cock inside. "You should have stopped laughing the first time around and I might have gone easier on you." Max doesn't give any warning before he roughly slams back inside, pulling moans out of both of them. Max starts to move, fucking finally although it's only sending Lando even crazier than before with his torturously slow thrusts.

Max angles the head of his cock and touches Lando's prostate, the Brit moans in pure pleasure. "Fuck yes, Max now were talking." Max smirks and purposely avoids hitting it for the new few thrusts. Max himself is getting little pleasure on his cock but torturing Lando is much more fun.

"Jesus Max, please I need to feel you please. I can't take this anymore." Lando pulls harshly on his restraints and twists and turns his body, trying to push Max deeper inside of him. The Dutchman lets him struggle for a little while longer before squeezing down on his hips, keeping him still. "Poor little Lando, you are so cute when you struggle."

Max speeds up his thrusts, using the anchor on his hips to fill him with rough but shallow thrusts, still avoiding his prostate. Lando's poor neglected cock is angry red and leaking all over his stomach, it almost makes Max want to take pity on him, almost. "Maybe next time you'll learn to be more careful, mu trophy would be in one piece and you could have been happily riding my cock." Max mocks, slamming into Lando extra hard, pulling another frustrated groan past his lips.

"Max please. Come on! I've learned my lesson, i'll be more careful next time." Lando pouts and flutters his eyelashes. "Please Ma-" Max cuts him off with a soft kiss against his lips. "Good boy for apologising for breaking my trophy." Max's hand ghosts over Lando's cock, but doesn't touch him. "I think you need to apologise for something else as well." Lando's mind is blank for a moment, then he remembers. "I'm sorry for laughing."

"Good boy Lando." Max speeds up his thrusts properly this time and wraps his hand around Lando's cock. Max fills Lando with short, hard brutal thrusts slamming into the younger man over and over again making sure he's slamming into his prostate with every hard thrust, Lando has been on the edge for what feels like forever, it only takes one more slam into his prostate and he's coming screaming Max's name as he spurts his seed all over Max's fingers.

"Lando fuck, i'm close." Lando feels like a vice, tightly wrapped around him. His thrusts have become uneven and erratic as he feels the tightening in his balls and sees stars as he comes hard, spurting into Lando painting his soft velvety walls milky white.

Max is still inside Lando while he reaches over and lets both of his hands free, only then does he slip out of him, a white river following his cock.

"I really am sorry about your trophy Max." Lando pants, looking beautifully shagged out while rubbing the tension around his wrists. Max smiles down at him, he's the cutest thing in the world. "I don't really care about it, it will get fixed." He places a soft kiss onto Lando's sweaty forehead. "I just thought it would be a great idea to have some fun."

#lando norris #max verstappen #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #mxm #mxm smut

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brandwhorestarscream · 9 months

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for writing suggestions, what if skyfire stayed with starscream and got preggers, then one of the lambo twins tries to fuck around and find out for funnies?

Ok so, my mind immediately goes to working out the relationships between Skyfire and the cons. Starscream is their leader, their rightful Winglord even if he hasn't technically undergone the ceremony to inherit the title. He's already bonded to Skywarp and Thundercracker, so hear me out 👀 pretty prized consort Skyfire. He wants nothing to do with the fighting so Starscream keeps him safely confined to the seekers' makeshift aerie, and even if his favor wasn't enough to make the others leave him alone, his sheer size is.

Thundercracker doesn't mind his presence at all. He knows how badly his alleged death affected Starscream; though he'd never admit it aloud, he still had nightmares about Skyfire plummeting out of the sky and then being accused of murdering him. To have him back has soothed a million-year ache in his bondmate's spark, and for that he is grateful. Plus, he shares Starscream's passion for scientific discovery, and having someone to share it with has resulted in a lot less unethical, potentially disastrous experiments in the lab

Skywarp, on the other hand, is very wary of Skyfire. He's jealous, honestly. It's not a secret that the Winglords and nobility of Vos were free to have extra mecha to entertain themselves, harems full of lovely concubines considered a status symbol to many. But with the war, Starscream had never even glanced at another pair of wings. He was always satisfied with his trine mates, and why wouldn't he be? They were tied at the spark and a perfect fit, he shouldn't need anyone else.

But now he's brought this strange shuttle into their lives, and Skywarp quietly despises him. He feels... inadequate, I suppose, and threatened. Irrational fears about Starscream abandoning them and running off with his old fling from school. Probably tries to sneakily terrorize him, lbr.

When Skyfire turns up carrying, Skywarp is chartreuse with envy. Starscream's been fragging him that much?! Filling his gestation tank to the max and sharing such excess spark energy with him that they've kindled?! How much attention is Starscream going to give some lowly consort?! He's never been so angry and hurt in his entire life. Thundercracker has been watching this slow moving trainwreck from afar, trying to keep Skywarp on a leash but, well. He has a right to reassert the hierarchy, if that's what he wants. And having the Winglord's baby is a pretty serious status elevation. He knows Warp is only lashing out because he's scared, and Starscream isn't making it better by staunchly ignoring him. The whole thing is a mess

Now, onto the lambo twins fucking around and shortly thereafter finding out. They already have Beef™ with the seekers (ik their jet judo is just a fandom thing but still), so it's no surprise they'd go after their new big scary shuttle if the opportunity arose. Skyfire's never present on the battlefield, and certainly not in his condition, so how they end up in the same place is up for debate. Maybe Starscream granted him permissiom to go out for a joy flight, to stretch his wings and get some sun. Carrier of his sparklings needs to be healthy, after all, and a caged flyer is hardly a healthy one. Maybe they've landed in some secluded spot to rest and let Skyfire observe the natural wildlife; he is a xenobiologist, after all. Maybe Skywarp and Thundercracker are there as extra security (or maybe Skywarp doesn't want them to be alone, who knows).

Regardless. The twins show up and cause a ruckus and Starscream goes nuclear; daring to attack his consort while he's carrying! People have been executed for less! He beats them to slag and the only reason he doesn't kill them is because Skyfire begs him not to. If Skywarp and Thundercracker are there, they definitely help. Skywarp probably teleports Skyfire out of there because while he may not like him, those are Starscream's bitties and he'd never do anything to endanger them.

#starscream #skyfire #skywarp #Thundercracker

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it-was-funeral-grey · 1 year

Text

"Fuckin' hell." (Ghost x F!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Summary: A trip with your fiancé goes wrong, leading to you making a suicidal decision in order to keep him safe.

Warnings: Reader worked as an intelligence officer (code name Dahila), OC male character (reader's fiancé), Reader and Max get drugged, kidnapping, violence, arson, vulgarities.

Word count: 2.1k

Inspired by: -

Author's note: I don't know how information systems or special ops teams work lol.

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

The ring Simon made you was nothing short of a masterpiece - at least to you. It was crafted using ebony, with a small carving of what is supposed to be a flower on the outer band.

("I'm sorry, love. I know it looks terrible-"

"I love it," you interrupt. "It's beautiful."

It was your first anniversary as a couple. One year since the two of you decided that flirting over private radio channels wasn't enough.

He slipped the ring on your index finger, gently holding your finger after.

"No taking this off until I can replace it with a better one, you hear?"

"Promising to propose to me, Riley?" you tease, wiggling your ring finger at him.

But despite your teasing, your heart was serious.

This is the man you want. This is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. No one else but Simon.

The ring is still on you to this day.)

A wave of nausea hits you as you stir from your sleep. Your whole body feels stiff, but most importantly:

You see nothing. You blink rapidly, realising that there seems to be a blindfold over your eyes.

Panic begins to set in as you attempt to feel your surroundings. You quickly realise that your hands seem to be bound behind your back. Your legs are no different, tied to what you're pretty sure are two legs of a chair.

What's going on?

"Well, if it isn't Agent Dahila," a voice announces. "Welcome back to New York!"

That voice.

Oh no.

This is really, really bad.

To celebrate your engagement, you and Max decided to go to New York for a holiday. Although you were nervous about setting foot into America again, Max was so excited to show off his hometown that you couldn't say no.

You both had just reached New York and were en route to Max's parents' house. Your taxi driver was friendly, offering you drinks, snacks-

Dammit, it was probably that. The food was spiked.

"I can't believe you have the guts to come back here," the voice scoffs, and you hear footsteps inching closer. "And on holiday! Did you think I'd forget what you did?"

Your blindfold is ripped from your face, and you wince at the light pouring into your eyes.

You were in the middle of a large, unfurnished room, save for a desk. There were no windows or exits apart from the ladder behind the fuming man standing before you.

A basement, you think. That would explain why it's so cold in here as well.

Samuel grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

"I have half a mind to kill you right now," Samuel fumes, pulling on your hair tighter. "However, we could use your expertise."

Releasing your head, Samuel walks over to the desk and pulls a tablet out of the drawer.

"You see, a couple of our bases have been destroyed recently," he continues, walking back to you. "Four men. We can't find out who they are or who they work for."

He turns the tablet towards you. A blurry video, supposedly from a security camera, shows four heavily armed men shooting up the area. They are in perfect sync, moving with impossible efficiency.

"Now, this wouldn't be such a big issue if all they do is kill our guys." Swiping the tablet screen, Samuel sighs. "They destroy our goods."

On the screen, the four men pour gasoline into a room, which you assume is where the goods Samuel mentioned are kept. Blood coats the walls, and their owners lie on the floor, dead.

One of the men wearing a green hat lights a cigar, taking a puff before throwing it into the room. In an instant, the room is up in flames, and he motions for the other three to leave.

"Believe me when I say we've checked every possible system for information on them. The only two we haven't checked are the death registry and..."

The Special Ops servers. Your eyes widen in alarm. If he's going to tell you to do that...

"You seem to understand where this is going," Samuel says, grinning. "Then you probably know what I'm asking you to do. You don't get to decline, by the way."

He turns the tablet back towards him, tapping the screen.

"Clearly, those four guys aren't dead, so there's no point checking the death records - well, even if they are legally deceased, there will be records of them on the Special Ops servers." He states, eyes never leaving the tablet screen. "You are going to access the Special Ops servers for us. Being an intelligence agent, accessing it wouldn't be suspicious. You will search for these four troublemakers and tell us who they are and who they work for. If you don't..."

He turns the tablet back to you.

"You'll have front-row seats watching him burn alive."

The screen now shows a live video. In it, Max is tied against a pole, gagged and squirming helplessly against his restraints. He looks horrified, watching as a canister of gasoline is poured over his legs.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on him!" you seethe. Fear turns into fury as you fight against your restraints, desperately trying to free yourself so you can kill the bastard in front of you.

"Ah, the queen of intelligence speaks!" Samuel says, moving the desk in front of you.

Pulling out a knife, Samuel continues, "Settle down now, wouldn't want to get your wrists cut up, huh? That'd make your job a lot more painful."

You relent. Samuel is right, now isn't the time to panic. You need to remain calm and think of a way out of this.

With your binds removed, you rub at your wrist, hissing as you stretch your arms. Samuel allows this, and you make full use of the time to plan your next move.

"Get on with it then." Samuel removes a laptop from another drawer and places it on the table. "And no funny business, or the both of you are dead."

Not that this situation can get any worse, you think. You start up the laptop.

You have a plan to survive, but it's not for you.

(" What do you mean, "What Special Ops server?" ?" you almost shout. No way, you think. He's got to be joking. There's no way the Simon Ghost Riley, legendary SPECIAL OPS SOLDIER doesn't know what it is.

"I mean what I say, love," Simon replies, handing over his phone. "What is this Special Ops server, and how can I access it?"

You were literally too stunned to speak. How did the man survive without knowing about the system that keeps him alive?

Taking his phone from him, you tap on the internet app.

"How are you still alive? You guys rely on this server for mission details and information!" you reply. Sighing, you lead Simon to the couch and sit next to him.

"Now look closely," you say as you press the search bar. "Firstly…")

Your hands move without you needing to look at the keyboard. It's the muscle memory, having typed in the link many times before. Pressing 'Enter' after, you wait for the link to load.

("No, seriously. How have you lived this long in this line of work without knowing what it is? So much information is on this server! Plus, this is where your mission details are! How do you know when to go to work if you don't even check the server?!" you rant to Simon while waiting for the page to load.

"The Captain calls me when we have to leave."

"Unbelievable," you reply, shaking your head. "Anyway…")

Contrary to popular belief, the server isn't something that can only be accessed by 'secret spy devices' or only by government laptops. Anyone can access it if they know the correct steps. The website looks like a regular online shopping website. In fact, it runs as one. You hit the 'ALT' key twice before clicking on the website's search bar and typing '202130iso202130' before hitting 'Enter' again.

("Ok, now you just gotta place your thumb in front of the camera," you instruct, handing the phone back to Simon. "The website doesn't look any different, but it's actually gonna scan your thumbprint and your retina later to verify your identity - no, not that close."

You guide Simon's hands to hover a little higher above the phone camera. The website flashes bright green and then returns to normal. "Ok, now just bring the camera close to your eye," you continue. "Don't blink."

Simon does as you say, wincing slightly as the screen flashes the bright green light into his eyes. This time, the website changed to a black screen with a login page.

"Now you have to put your login stuff inside. I can't use mine since they scanned your thumb and eye."

"I don't know my login details."

"…I'll get someone from intelligence to reset it for you.")

After scanning your biometrics and entering the login information, you were loaded into the server. Immediately, you begin your search for the four mysterious men. You estimate that you have five minutes before their intelligence team realises what is happening.

(After redoing the process with your thumb and eye, you finally enter the server.

"Now listen up, Riley! There are two things you need to know about entering the server." you say, turning to face him. This was serious, and he really needs to know.

"I'm listening."

"Number one! Do not let anyone else log in using your login details! Even if they are Special Ops!"

"Why not?"

"The owner's login details must match the biometrics of the person logging in - It's like what happened just now. I couldn't log in with my details after they've scanned you. A whole lot of trouble will come if you do. Like a full-blown investigation and 'intelligence team hates you forever for increasing their workload' type of trouble."

"Fair enough."

"Anyway! Just remember this: Thumb and eye from the same guy, anatomy and login's owner both have the same boner."

"…Alright.")

You start by searching up teams that have only four individuals. The list you get back is way too long.

"Show me the recording again," you request. When Samuel doesn't move, you slam your fist on the table. "Hurry!"

Time is running out. If you don't find these guys, Max is going to die.

You seemed to have spooked Samuel enough for him to give you the tablet. Quickly starting the video, you pause periodically to look for distinguishing features or flags. But the quality of the video is making things difficult for you.

Deciding that the first video has nothing you can use, you quickly move on to the second one.

("Now, number two!" you continue, holding up two fingers. "Never, under any circumstance, attempt to access the server after you retire from service."

"I can probably guess why. You aren't supposed to know these things anymore. You could be sellin' the information to enemies."

"That's right," you affirm. "Every nation that signed the Special Ops agreement uses this shared server. There's too much sensitive information here. Immediately after the intelligence team picks up that you're in - or tried to go in, you're done for. It's practically a death sentence. You'll be hunted down and killed."

"That's understandable," Simon hums in agreement. "But why don't they just delete the account?"

"Oh, we do. But for intelligence agents like us, we know how to get in even without an existing account. Not that it matters. The moment you try is the moment you die."

"Another rhyme."

"Now's not the time." you frown, trying to get him to focus.

"Oh, another one."

"Riley!")

You have about two minutes left, and you're getting nowhere.

The database tells you nothing. You've typed in all sorts of things, like 'green hat cigar' and 'white mask', but still nothing.

You're on the verge of tears from all the stress you're under. Finger trembling as you smash at the keyboard, trying anything and everything that comes to mind.

Fucking hell. You bite your tongue. Fuck, Fuck, Fu-

"Fuckin' hell."

A voice slightly distorted by static comes from the video. But even through the static, you could make out the accent.

British. Could this be a UK team?

You don't know, but you might as well give it a shot. Immediately, the long list is reduced to a single result.

Task force 141.

The computer screen flashes blue not even a second after you've read the name, and an error message is displayed.

Join the Taglist!

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #tangents

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