#love canon? have fun with it! don’t love canon? throw it out and do what you want!

[artsy-dreamer]

…gonna answer that anon ask in the tags of this post

[joelsgreys]

when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

summary: Spending Christmas in Bogotá, Colombia isn’t ideal. Javier knows you’re missing home a little harder than usual, so he comes up with a plan to cheer you up.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. minor deviation from canon timeline (had to make it work), reader is an agent for the DEA, NO AGE SPECIED, NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION, reader understands and speaks spanish but no mention of her race or ethnicity, friends to lovers trope, reader celebrates christmas, reader has a good relationship with her family, minor smoking and alcohol consumption (both reader and javi), reader’s a bit rough around the edges sometimes. fluff, soft javi, he’s a bit of a grinch in the beginning though. switches in pov’s and tenses.

*ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS AT THE END.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: thank you to @hellishjoel for inviting me to join in on this fun project!

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist

Javier Peña doesn’t do Christmas.

He especially doesn’t do Christmas in Bogotá.

He doesn’t see the point even acknowledging it.

There are more important things on his mind.

Capturing Pablo Escobar.

Dismantling the dangerous Medellín Cartel.

Living long enough to tell the fucking tale.

Those were his priorities while in Colombia.

Not decking the halls with boughs of holly.

And yet, there he is, fighting with a string of bright and colorful lights, wishing these things would put themselves on the tree. “Puta madre,” Javi curses underneath his breath as he tries untangling them from around his waist. Somehow, he only makes it worse. He grumbles, “This is fucking ridiculous—it shouldn’t be this fucking hard throwing lights on a goddamn fucking tree—” He pauses, spins around to find where he’d gone wrong and then continues grouching to himself. “Can’t believe people do this fucking shit for fun. Stupidest thing I’ve ever—”

Javi manages to free himself and glances down at his watch to see he’s running out of time—it’s past five now, and unless Messina’s in one of those bad fucking moods of hers and decides to dump some last minute paperwork onto your desk, then you’re going to be walking through the front door soon.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a deep and frustrated sigh.

He’d been an idiot to decline Connie’s offer to help him when she had dropped off the decorations for him earlier that afternoon.

“You sure you don’t need my help?” she had asked as she handed him the cardboard box overflowing with festive ornaments and tinsel. “I have a couple of more hours before I have to be at the clinic, you know. I can help you set it all up for her, make it all nice and pretty.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled,” he’d replied. “I’m sure it won’t take me too long to put some—is this fucking fruit?” Confused, Javi shifted the box over to his hip, pulling out a string of dried oranges and red cranberries. “Um, what the hell is this for? This supposed to be a snack for me while I decorate?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a homemade garland.”

“It’s a homemade what now?”

“Garland, Javier. It goes on the tree.”

Amused, he’d raised an eyebrow at her.

“Fruit going back onto the tree? That’s ironic.”

Sighing, Connie rolled her eyes at him once more.

“Last chance. Do you want my help or not, Javi?”

“I appreciate it, but like I said, I’ve got it handled.”

She’d shrugged. “Alright, suit yourself, then.”

Little did he know how he’d regret his decision. It’s a bigger headache than he thought it would be, an incredible waste of valuable time he could’ve been using to hunt down new leads, do the job he came here to do and find Pablo Escobar. Then again, the more he thinks about it, the more Javi realizes this isn’t a waste of his time at all—not really.

Because he’s doing this for you.

Because he knows you love Christmas.

Because he knows you’ve been feeling homesick.

The season you normally adored was bringing you nothing but emptiness this year. There is a void—a hole in your heart that only your family could fill.

“Messina denied my request for time off,” you had told him, taking a drag of his cigarette—you’re not much of a smoker, but he’d learned that tended to change on occasion when you were upset. “Said it isn’t fair to let me go home for Christmas. That I’m not the only one who wants to be with their family. And I get it. I do.” Sighing, you took a second drag and then handed the cigarette back to Javier; he’d put it between his lips, the taste of cherry flavored lip gloss that lingered on the filtered tip prompting a craving stronger than his craving for nicotine. “It was selfish of me to even think of taking time off. I just—I miss spending Christmas in my hometown, you know? Waking up to snow outside my window in the mornings. Building snowmen with my sister, hurling snowballs at my brother. I miss my mother and her cooking. I miss my father and how even at our age, he still insists on pretending to be Santa.”

Laughing, Javier leaned forward on his stool.

You’d asked him to meet you at your usual spot—a quiet lounge bar right around the corner from your apartment. When he walked in and saw the scotch in front of you on the table, he’d known something was wrong. You’re not much of a drinker, either.

“Does he eat the cookies and drink the milk too?”

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest, a little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. He tried not to let his gaze longer there too long—he’s just one man. There was only so much strength he could muster to keep fighting the temptation.

“Of course. He takes his role very, very seriously.”

Despite your smile, he’d noticed it right away.

The unmistakable sadness in your eyes.

You were tough as fucking nails.

In this line of work, you had no choice but to be.

But Javier knew your family was your weakness.

His weakness?

His weakness was sitting there in front of him with a crestfallen expression on her pretty face, tracing around the rim of her glass with her finger.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Your voice had thickened, the emotions you’re used to bottling up threatening to boil over.

“Of course not,” he assured you. “There is nothing stupid about wanting to go back home to see your family. There’s nothing stupid about wanting to be with them for the holidays. I promise you that.”

You snorted. “Peña, we’re trying to bring down the most dangerous man in all of South America. Last thing I need to be doing right now is dreaming of a white Christmas. It’s fucking stupid, alright?”

Hesitantly, Javier lifted his hand and placed it over yours—it wasn’t the first time he’d ever held it, not the first time he had shown physical affection, but this was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and he didn’t want to make things worse. Once he realized it was okay, he brushed the back of it with his thumb softly, soothingly.

“Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño.”

“No hay caso para eso, Javier.”

“Maybe I can convince her to let you go. She’s got me and she’s got Murphy. We’ll handle things here while you head home for a few days, spend a week with your family for Christmas. Doesn’t hurt to try, you know.” Javi squeezed your hand. Knowing just how fucking stubborn you could be, he insisted on it. “Por favor, cielo. Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. Dejame ayudarte.”

You drained the rest of your scotch and swallowed it along with the lump that had climbed it’s way up your throat. Setting the glass back down, you then pulled your hand out from under his and stood up.

“Forget it. I’m here because I have a job to do—we both have a job to do. I’ll get over it, Javier. Always do.”

Before he could say another word, you’d picked up your jacket and purse, making a quick dash for the exit before he could see the stubborn tear slipping out from the corner of your eye and down the side of your face. But he had seen it, and that’s exactly why he knew he had to do something for you.

About an hour later, Javi places a glittering star on top of the white spruce and then takes a couple of steps back, hands on his hips. Cocking his head to the side, he observes the tree and makes sure that he hasn’t left a single spot bare. He decides to add more gold tinsel until he feels oddly satisfied—and once he is, he pulls out his pocket knife, using it to open the small sized box he had brought with him; two different addresses were scribbled on the side of it in your mother’s handwriting, his apartment’s address the destination, her address the return.

“I wrapped it well,” she’d said over the phone. “It’s her most prized possession, so I really hope it gets to you in one piece or she’s going to kill us both.”

Javier slowly unwraps the object inside and feels a wave of complete and utter relief wash over him to see it made it through customs without breaking.

He squints, taking a better look at the ornament.

The little blonde ballerina is made of porcelain and holds a nutcracker soldier in her arms—the skirt of her dress is white lace embroidered with teeny red rosettes that perfectly match the blush painted on her cheeks and the color of the bow in her hair.

“It’s Clara,” your mother had explained to him.

“Who?” he’d asked, stupidly.

“Clara. You know, from The Nutcracker?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” he’d fibbed. “Clara. Got it.”

He had no clue what she had been talking about—but if it’s special to you, then it’s special to him.

Carefully, Javi hangs it on tree just as he hears the front door open and then slam shut so hard that it causes the paper thin walls of your unit to rattle.

“Peña!” you shout loudly. “You fucking asshole!”

Lip rolling between his teeth, he stifles a laugh.

You must have seen his Wrangler parked outside.

Grinning, Javier steps out into the hallway to greet you. “Hola, hermosa. Bienvenida a casa.”

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, tossing your purse and unit keys onto a nearby table. “You offer to give me ride to and from work but then proceed to ditch me and leave work three hours early—you leave me with no other fucking choice but to call a cab to bring me home and when he drops me off, I see your fucking car outside of my apartment?”

Rubbing his chin, he hums, “Sounds about right.”

You approach him, your hands curled into fists.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Javier?”

Javi’s quick to hold up his own hands in defense.

He won’t put it past you to knock him out—he and Murphy have seen you bring down men twice your size before without a weapon. Neither of them can decide if it’s hot as hell or downright terrifying.

“Okay, put those away and let me explain,” he tells you, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry I did that to you, but I did it for a reason.”

You scoff, “Well, if that reason was to piss me off, I have some news for you—it fucking worked.”

“That wasn’t the reason. Not this time, anyway.”

Chuckling, Javier extends a hand, holding it out to you.

You peer at it. “What are you doing, Peña?”

“Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti.”

Suspiciously, you ask him, “What did you do?”

He laughs again. He knew it wouldn’t make it easy for him. “You do know how surprises work, right?”

You lift your chin. “I do and I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t, but I think you’ll like this one.”

Javi continues to hold out his hand and waits.

He’s just as stubborn as you are, if not more.

“We can stand here all fucking night, corazón.”

Sighing in defeat, you place your hand in his, heart skipping a beat when he smiles and laces together your fingers with his own.

“Cierra tus ojos.”

“Javier, I don’t want—”

He quickly cuts you off. “Do you trust me?”

Of course. Hell, you trusted him with your life.

And not just because it’s a job requirement.

Huffing, you do as he says and close your eyes.

“Good.” Javier places his other hand on your waist and his fingers brush against the patch of smooth, soft skin peeking out from between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your blouse. Ignoring his burning desire to feel more of you, he leads the way into the living room and positions you in front of the tree. Without dropping your hand, he moves to stand directly behind you, chest pressed lightly against your back.“Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita.”

“Look Peña, I don’t know what you’re up to but—”

Your own startled gasp cuts you off mid sentence.

Squeezing your hand, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and you can feel his grin as he whispers, “Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parece?”

You open your mouth to speak, then clamp it shut.

His surprise had left you speechless.

Pleased with himself, Javi nudges you towards the tree and then drops his hands down at his sides as he watches you gingerly touch the needles.

Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply, the delicious, woodsy smell of pine reminding you of your family and how you’d all pile into your father’s old pickup truck and head to the Christmas Tree Farm to find the perfect white spruce to take home. Your father took great care in the picking process—he wanted the tallest, fluffiest, most fragrant tree. “Need this place to smell like the farm!” he’d boom. You smile and can’t help but to think he’d approve of Javi—if not because of what he had done for you, then the choice in tree would be enough to win him over.

“Do you like it?” he asks, softly.

You open your eyes and whirl around. “Javi, I can’t believe you did this,” you say, breathlessly. Smiling brighter than the lights on the Christmas tree, you throw your arms around him. “I love it so much!”

He savors the embrace—and wonders if you know just how perfectly you fit right in his arms.

“There’s one more surprise,” Javier informs you as he spins you around to look at the tree once again. “Do you see it?”

“See what?” Peering at the tree, you frown. “What am I supposed to be looking for—wait a second, is that—is that Clara?” Your hand flies to your mouth and you look up at him in complete shock. “That’s the ornament my grandmother made for me when I was a baby! I’ve had her since my first Christmas. How did you—?”

“Santa no cuenta sus secretos.” Javi grins, pulling you closer against his side. “But if you must know, your mom sent it to me,” he confesses. “Actually, I have to be honest—this whole thing was her idea.”

Perplexed, you ask, “This was my mom’s idea?”

“I know you’ve been having a hard time being here during the holidays instead of with your family,” he says. “I called her up a couple of weeks ago, asked her what I could do for you. We started talking and came up with this.” He shrugs and touches a hand to the back of his neck, sheepishly. “I know it’s not the same as going home. But I thought it might be nice to bring a little piece of home here to you.”

Warmth blossoms inside of your chest as you turn to face him. You place a hand on his chest. “Javi?”

Nervously, his throat bobs. “Yeah?”

“Why did you do this for me?”

Javier lifts his hand and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I told you. I just want to see you happy.”

“But why?”

You know why.

But you need to hear him say it.

You need to hear it from his own mouth.

Javi’s hand moves to cup the side of your face. “Is it not obvious?” he murmurs as he grazes the silky soft skin over your cheekbone. “Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientas igual.”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same for you?”

“Do you?” His thumb sweeps your bottom lip. “Do you feel the same for me?”

Your hand curls around his red plaid flannel.

“I shouldn’t,” you admit. “We’re work partners.”

He feigns offense. “Ouch. And here I was, thinking we were friends.” He now takes your chin between his index finger and his thumb. Licking his lips, his eyes meet yours. “Breaking my heart, baby.”

Your breath audibly catches. “We are friends—and it scares me to put our friendship on the line.”

“But?” he prompts as he tilts your head up toward his. His opposite hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him.

“But when you do things like this—it’s hard for me not to fucking fall in love with you, Peña.” You drag your hand down his chest, your fingers relishing in the softness of his flannel. “It’s so fucking hard for me not to fall in love with somebody who feels like home.”

Javier’s chuckles softly.

“For the record, this wasn’t a ploy to get you to fall in love with me, corazón. But if it worked—” Javier pauses, dropping his hand from your face. “Then I guess it’s worth pulling this thing out.”

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Javi, what the hell are you—?”

He grins, holding the mistletoe above your heads.

“Connie said this might come in handy.”

Your eyes flicker to his lips, then meet his gaze.

“Ven aqui, Peña.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull Javi in and crash your mouth against his. You brush his bottom lip with your tongue and he grants you the access you’re looking for. He tastes like spearmint and scotch, and something else too.

He tastes like yours.

And he feels like home.

diver credit to @saradika-graphics ❤️

Translations

Yo hablaré con Messina, cariño. - I’ll talk to Messina, darling.

No hay caso para eso, Javier. - There’s no point, Javier.

Dejame ayudarte con esto. Yo solo quiero verte feliz. - Let me help you with this. I just want to see you happy.

Ven conmigo, cielo. Tengo una sorpresa para ti. - Come with me, I have a surprise for you.

Cierra tus ojos. - Close your eyes.

Puedes abrir tus ojos, bonita. - You can open your eyes, pretty girl.

Sorpresa, preciosa. Tienes un arbol de Navidad. Qué tal te parch? - Surprise, precious girl. You have a Christmas tree. What do you think?

Santa no cuenta sus secretos. - Santa doesn’t tell his secrets.

Tú bien sabes qué yo siento algo por ti, hermosa. Aunque no sientes igual. - You know all too well I have feelings for you. Even if you don’t feel the same.

Ven aqui, Peña. - Come here, Peña.

[starberryes]

don't you (forget about me) | steve harrington x reader

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door.  "First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—” Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—" "You did not just roll your eyes at me—” Dustin sighs. "Here they go." (or: You've always thought Steve Harrington was a weirdo. When you find out you might be in terrible danger, he might be just what you need.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader (she/her pronouns used), lots of henderson siblings bonding <3

words: 13.9k

a/n: gif by @dailysteveharrington. thank you all for being patient and i hope you all like it<3 i loved this season and i love steve so i hope you enjoy this lil enemies to lovers fic. this fic is a one shot, but let me know if you'd like a sequel once vol 2 is out bc its a bit of an open, ambiguous ending ;) also some fun facts before this fic starts: dustin's dad appears at will's funeral in s1 and there are several theories about him-- officially, he and dustin's mother are divorced in canon. i'll explore that in this fic. ST4 SPOILERS. this is set in season 4 ep 3 "the monster and the superhero" and follows vol 1 canon also sorry if this doesnt follow canon pretty well i mostly did it from memory cause the wiki still isnt fully updated 💀

disclaimer: this fic discusses the topic of an absent parent, please proceed with caution if this is hurtful to you. also warning for canon typical violence and cursing. english is not my first language so please let me know if there are any mistakes.

📼 NOW PLAYING: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Mind

Your mother had always been slightly overbearing and fearful, but the murder of Chrissy Cunnigham you think might actually kill her. Or at least will force her to lock you in your bedroom and flush the key down the toilet.

“You can’t go anywhere without telling me,” your mother tells you over breakfast, worriedly overcooking her bacon. “You hear me? I don’t want you running around town without me knowing. Or better yet, don’t go anywhere at all!”

You glare at Dustin’s chair, where your brother is munching on toast and eggs, hoping your mother takes the hint. She does, and so she shakes her head and says, “Dustin’s different.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“Maybe this killer has a thing for pretty girls,” your mother shakes her head, shivering. “Chrissy Cunningham was such a nice and pretty girl, right your age.”

“You don’t know what that killer was thinking!” You groan. “Why can Dustin leave but I can’t?!”

“Dustin’s not an eighteen year old girl with an easily breakable neck.”

“He’s easier to man-handle!”

Dustin frowns, finally looking up from his breakfast. “I’m not!”

”Besides, do you even know where he was last night?” You ignore your brother’s protests, choosing to point at him as he scoffs in offense. “I bet you don’t, because he’s always sneaking out!”

“I’m not always sneaking out!”

“I try my best with you, Dusty,” she sighs, finally sitting down. “But your sister is right, you’re difficult to keep track of. You’re always running around, like those little legs have minds of their own.” She points the spoon she was using for her coffee at your face. “Don’t you throw that in my face, (Y/N).”

“Mom, you’re right,” you nod, sipping your orange juice, trying to appeal to her soft spot. “He is difficult to keep track off, and there’s a dangerous killer on the loose. How about I keep track of him? Make sure he’s not getting into any trouble, hm? I’ll make sure we’re always safe, together.”

Of course, you were planning on bolting as soon as you were out of your mom’s sight. You mom’s cat Tews meows somewhere across the room, as if he knows not to trust you. That damned furball.

“What the fuck? No!”

“Dusty! Language.”

“Mom,” Dustin says, exasperated. “I don’t need a babysitter. Much less a babysitter that’s also my annoying older sister.”

“No, you have Steve Harrington for that,” you mutter under your breath, and Dustin manages to kick you under the table. You glare at your little brother, then turn to address your mom once again. “I promise we’ll stay together. I know— no, I understand that it’s scary out there right now, but I can take care of myself. And Dustin. You have to trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s the murderer I don’t trust.”

“Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she stares pointedly at you, and you promptly shut up. “I don’t want you two sneaking out. But, it’ll make me feel better if the both of you are together.”

Dustin covers his face with his hands. “Shit.”

“Yes!” You squeal. You stick out your tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dusty.”

“Screw you.”

“Dusty, it’ll be fun. (Y/N), don’t taunt your little brother,” your mom scolds both of you into silence. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Aw, you two used to be thick as thieves back then.”

Dustin sighs, picking at his toast absent-mindedly. “Was there a murderer on the loose back then too?”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

After breakfast, you give Dustin a ride until you arrive in a neighborhood that is most definitely not Lucas Sinclair’s like he told you it would be. You turn to stare at your brother before you unlock the car’s door, confused.

“Where are we?”

Dustin looks at your shoes. “I told you. Lucas’s.”

“Okay, you might lie to me whenever you want, just not to my actual face, Dustin.” You roll your eyes, and he mirrors you. “Seriously, why did you make me come all the way down here?”

“Why do you care?”

“I know we’re doing this to get mom off our backs, but there is actually a killer on the loose,” you say. “So, excuse me if I’m also a little wary about dropping you off at unknown locations, or whatever.”

“Fine,” Dustin sighs. “I’m here to see Max and Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Harrington.”

You blink at him. “Fucking Steve Harrington?”

“See?” Dustin rolls his eyes again. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are extremely uncool about Steve, you know.”

“I’m not!” You try not to dwell about how defensive you sound even to yourself. “I’m extremely cool about him. I’m extremely cool about the fact you hang out with that douchebag with stupid hair.”

“He’s not a douchebag! I don’t get why you hate him so much.”

Because you remember him and his friends making fun of you all throughout High School, his sneering and stupid stares. Like your brother, you’d never fit in— you never liked going to parties or drinking and you never made an effort to be liked by him and his group of popular dorks, instead you spent most of your days in the library, reading, hiding from Steve and his friends. Whatever honorable things Dustin saw in Steve Harrington you think he might have imagined them.

Now, in your last year of High School and with Steve becoming a social pariah, you don’t have to hide the fact that you still dislike Steve as much as you did back when he was still King Steve. Steve, for however much Dustin insists that he’s changed, upon first meeting you had tried to sweet talk you as if he didn’t know who you were. And you had barely kept it together enough to tell him to fuck off. Ever since then, you and Steve Harrington had hated each other’s guts. Your mutual dislike of each other is not lost on Dustin, who continues to mostly ignore it and tiptoe around it as best as he can.

“He’s not not a douchebag,” You murmur. “Why is he hanging out with two fourteen year olds during spring break? Isn’t the barf bag, like, supposed to be in college, going to frat parties, having a life of his own?”

Dustin doesn’t appreciate the way you talk about him, clearly, but he still replies, albeit unhappily. “He’s helping me with something.”

“With what?”

Before Dustin can respond, someone knocks on Dustin’s window. You jump, surprised, but it’s just Steve and Dustin’s friend redhead Max, looking bored and impatient. You groan and reach over Dustin’s seat to roll the window down.

“Do you mind?” You say to Steve. “We’re talking.”

“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door. 

"First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. You ignore Dustin’s groan. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—”

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—"

"You did not just roll your eyes at me—”

Dustin sighs. "Here they go."

“I did not roll my eyes—”

“You absolutely did!”

“There was something in my eyes.”

“That something was lies!”

“Jesus fuck,” Steve finally throws his arms up in exasperation and turns to your brother, ignoring your insults. “You done talking to your lovely sister there, Henderson? We got a counselor to see.”

“What?” You frown at Dustin, irritation immediately melting into concern. “What’s he talking about?”

“Steve, shut your mouth,” Dustin glares at Steve, who shrugs and finally steps away from the car. “Nothing, (Y/N), seriously. See you later?”

“No.” You shake your head. “What does he mean a counselor? Are you seeing Ms Kelly?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. It’s—” he looks like he’s scrambling to think of an excuse, then his eyes land on Max. Something flashes across her face and she speaks next.

“It’s for me.” she says, “Chrissy died in my neighborhood.”

“She’s kind of freaking out,” Dustin says, and when you finally turn to look at Max you realize how tense she is, her shoulders square, with her lips forming a straight line.

“Oh. That sucks. Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly. It’s part of her charm, you think.

“See?” Dustin asks. “Can I go now?”

You nod, a little shaken up for some reason. Maybe Chrissy’s murder still made you feel slightly ill, and the mention of it made you feel even worse. You couldn’t imagine what Max might be going through. It didn’t help that they had found another body this morning, either. 

“Ye— yeah. Sorry. I hope everything’s alright, Max.”

“Yeah,” she nods.

Dustin nods to the door. “Can you unlock the car, then?”

You wordlessly comply, and as your little brother steps out of your mom’s blue Ford Cortina, you talk to Max once again. “Ms Kelly is great help. I’m sure she’ll make you feel better. She really helped me this year, you know, she’s a great listener.”

“Yeah, I know,” Max says. “I’ve been thinking about seeing her for a while, a—actually. I’ve heard she’s well… you know… fine, or whatever.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in that,” you shrug. “Lots of people go to see Ms Kelly… Actually, now that you mention it, Fred Benson, the guy they found this morning, was seeing Ms Kelly too. And Chrissy Cunningham.”

Dustin pauses before closing the car door. “What do you mean?”

You blink, slightly confused as to why you’d even bring it up. “I’ve seen them in Ms Kelly’s office before. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, sorry.”

“No, no, (Y/N), that’s…” Dustin says, then doesn’t finish. “You’ve been seeing Ms Kelly too?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a little ashamed. You think about telling Dustin about everything that’s been going on, the nightmares, the guilt— but then you glance at his friends looking expectantly at him and cower. So you don’t continue.

It’s Steve who breaks the silence. “Henderson, chop chop, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you at home?” Dustin says, a little softer.

“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna go to Dinah’s near Ave Park, but do you think you’ll need a ride later?”

“Steve’s got his car,” he says. “Don’t wait up, okay?”

You nod, watching him leave.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s around eight PM, and Dinah is painting her toenails as you skim through one of her books, the soft hum of the TV in the background, entering through the open bedroom door. Her parents are watching the news, the news anchors are urging people to stay home and to lock their doors to be safe of this new serial killer.

Dinah’s house is your usual hangout spot beside your own. You don’t have many other friends, and there’s only so many times you can force Dustin to watch The Breakfast Club before he’s fighting you for the remote.

“It was all Matty could talk about,” Dinah continues to rant. “I can’t stand this murder talk any longer! I can only hear about Chrissy Cunningham’s missing eyeballs so many times, (Y/N), it’s way too fucking gruesome, but it’s all everyone in this town seems to care about.”

“It’s a pretty pressing issue,” when Dinah glares, you shrug. “I’m just saying! You know I agree with you. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

“Chrissy was always so nice, wasn’t she?” Dinah shakes her head, putting her nail polish back in her nightstand, then wraps her arms around her legs, hugging herself. “And Fred had a future in front of him. It’s so unfair. They had a family that loved them.”

“Dinah, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you say, feeling yourself shiver. You don’t want to think about poor Fred or Chrissy, or the families mourning them. You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words start blurring together, becoming harder and harder to read. 

You blink, confused, then realize Dinah is still talking.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it? I think about their dads too. Chrissy’s dad was crying so much at her wake. Do you think your dad would ever cry for you like that?”

You finally snap to look back at your friend. She’s staring at you like you’re small, like an insect she could stomp on. You’ve never seen her black eyes seem so soulless, so empty.

“Maybe they’ll be tears of joy, don’t you think? After all, weren’t you the one who made him walk away?” She tilts her head to the side, a sneer forming in her lips. “They could be a family without you.”

There’s something wrong in Dinah’s eyes. There’s something wrong about all of this, but you can’t point to what, where are you, when, why…what…?

When you blink, Dinah’s eyes look normal again. 

“(Y/N),” She asks, frowning. “Are you there?”

You shake your head. What the fuck was all that? 

“What?”

“You were staring at me like you weren’t all here,” she explains, grimacing. “Where did you go just now?”

“Sorry…” When you speak you feel a dull ache around your temple, and you lift a hand to rest against it, trying to soothe the pain aimlessly. “I think I need some painkillers or something, my head’s killing me.”

“Again?” 

“Yeah,” even before spring break you had confided in your friend about the headaches and the nightmares— you never told her why, but she at least knew you were seeing Ms Kelly. 

Dinah stands up, careful not to stain the carpet with her fresh black nail polish. “I’ll ask my dad for some Tylenol. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before Dinah is out the door she’s interrupted by the doorbell, which rings once, twice, three times and more. Dinah frowns, as her dad yells I’m coming, Jesus!

“Someone’s impatient…” you murmur, hand still resting on your temple.

“Hey,” Dinah, who has always had great hearing, says. “I think it’s your brother.”

You frown, and when Dinah’s father confirms it’s your brother by yelling out that It’s little Henderson!, you and Dinah head downstairs to find a heavy breathing Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Steve Harrington, looking as if they just ran a marathon.

Dustin’s eyes land on you. “(Y/N)!”

“Dustin?” you say, “What are you doing here? You need a ride ho—?”

Dustin runs to hug you by the waist, almost knocking the air out of you.

“Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Is your nose bleeding? Do you feel—?”

“Woah, Dustin,” you don’t know what to do with your hands— you and Dustin hadn’t hugged since he turned twelve and he and you both deemed it lame. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Dustin finally lets go of your waist to grab you by the face and inspect it properly. He roughly pulls your face down and tries to pull up your nose to look at your nostrils. “No nosebleed yet?”

Steve tries to stop him. “Dustin, buddy—”

Lucas adds a sustancial, “Dude.”

“Dustin!” you push his hands off your face, feeling your cheeks heat up when you notice everyone looking at you. “What the hell are you doing?”

Your brother opens his mouth to speak, but then seems to notice Dinah behind you and seems to think better of it. “We need to talk,” he says instead, “Like, right now.”

“Right now?” You ask. “I already told Dinah’s mom I’m staying for dinner. Dustin, what the hell is going on with you?”

Dinah clears her throat. “I’m… just gonna go get that Tylenol.”

“Tylenol?” Dustin asks when she walks away. “What for?”

“I have a headache.”

“Shit,” Max says, still by the door frame with Lucas and Steve.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dustin curses, deep in thought. “It’s already started.”

“What?” You ask as Dustin starts pacing back and forth.

“We need to find out how to stop this right fucking now,” Dustin starts pacing back and forth. “Think, everyone.”

“Maybe Robin and Nancy found something in the library,” Steve offers.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods. “C’mon, man. Let’s go find them.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay, okay.” Dustin calms himself down, manages to stop his pacing. “Let’s go wait for them at the Wheeler’s. (Y/N), let’s go.”

You throw your hands up in disbelief.  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”

“(Y/N),” Dustin says, his voice unfaltering. Dustin is never serious about much, and this renders you speechless. “I need you to listen to me for once in your goddamn life, okay? We need to go. Now.”

“Okay, Jesus,” you say finally. “Dinah’s mom is making Lasagna so this better be worth it, Dustin.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

On the way to Nancy Wheeler’s house, you learn two things: One, Dustin knows where a serial killer might be hiding, and two, your brother thinks you’re cursed and are going to die in, give or take, twenty four hours.

You glare at Steve Harrington in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck have you been giving him?”

“I’m serious!” Dustin yells. “I knew you wouldn’t fucking believe me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, because he looks genuinely frustrated, but a second dimension and a supervillain? Does your brother think you’re stupid? Just how many movies has he been watching? “I just think D&D might actually be getting to your head, Dustin. There’s no way what you just told me is real.”

“Lucas and Max know it’s real too!”

Both of them nod furiously.

“Are the other two fourteen year olds your only source?”

“Steve too!”

Steve winks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Even worse,” you say.

“Listen,” Lucas tries to reason when Dustin groans in frustration, cursing under his breath at you. “I know this sounds absolutely crazy, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I promise you it’s all true, and if we don’t do something soon about it you’ll end up like Chrissy and Fred.”

An involuntary chill runs down your spine every time you think about them. 

“Guys,” you say, slowly, “I know things are scary right now, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for the murders besides a demon supervillain.”

“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Max shakes her head. “Not until I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Didn’t Ms Kelly’s file say the others who were cursed were also having hallucinations?” Steve asks the kids, looking for a place to park. “So, have you gotten any weird visions lately?”

Hallucinations? You think back, but can’t seem to pinpoint anything similar to that. Except tonight at Dinah’s place, before Dustin and the rest had rung the doorbell. Suddenly you grow a little paler, uncomfortable at the memory being brought back. That had been weird, but you were exhausted and knowing a serial killer, Eddie Munson, who apparently your brother knew, was out there still was making you restless.

“I wouldn’t really call them visions,” you murmur.

“Shit,” Dustin breathes, looking at you with wide eyes. “It’s spreading faster.”

“Listen, Dustin, I may be going through some shit lately, but I promise you I’m okay. I just need some painkillers for my head, seriously.”

“(Y/N)!” Your brother takes you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Your life is in imminent danger! You don’t need painkillers!”

“I do if you keep shaking me like a ragdoll!”

“Listen,” Lucas says, grabbing Dustin and prying him off you despite his protests. “Just stay with us tonight, okay? We’ll sleep at the Wheeler’s and it’ll make Dustin feel better, right? We’re all tired.”

“Dude—”

Lucas cuts Dustin off and whispers, “We’ll wait for what Nancy and Robin have to say and then figure out how to convince her later, yeah?”

Dustin sighs. “This was so much easier when El had her powers.”

“So yeah? You’ll stay the night?” Lucas asks, hopeful.

You see all three of the kids staring at you and cave in. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say, at the same time Steve parks right in front of the Wheeler residence. Before you can even step out of the car another car pulls over by the garage and Nancy Wheeler and another girl you don’t know step out of it.

“Nance, Robin!” Steve exclaims as he stops the car and steps out. “Had fun at the library? I sure didn’t.”

“It went well, I think—”

“We have a situation,” Dustin is quick to interrupt, reaching over your space and popping his head out from the open window. “It’s my sister. We think Vecna cursed her.”

“Whatever that means,” you mumble, getting out of the car, Dustin trailing behind you and slamming the door shut.

“She doesn’t believe us,” Max explains.

“Well, I personally would be more weirded out if she did,” The girl you don’t know shrugs a little. You recognize her now— she worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the fire at Starcourt, and now works at Family Video. You’ve spoken a bit with her before.

“She’s been having visions, headaches, nosebleeds,” Dustin continues, “like Fred and Chrissy were, according to Ms Kelly’s files. I think Vecna is preying on vulnerable people, people dealing with...” he looks at you for a second, then back at the girls, settling on saying: “Some shit.”

“We found some articles about Victor Creel at the library,” Nancy says, then motions at the house with her chin. “Let’s talk inside.”

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Nancy and Robin turn out to be as crazy as the rest of them— they tell the story of Victor Creel, infamous in Hawkins for murdering his entire family, and about how he was supposedly possesed by the devil according to some conspiracy newspaper. They want to talk to Victor, but the problem is that he’s now a patient at Pennhurst Mental Hospital and completely unreachable to the public. They plan to go first thing in the morning and the rest of the group seems to agree. 

“We’ll need a disguise,” is Nancy’s big plan.

You never quite get that Tylenol, because the strongest thing Ms Wheeler has is green tea. You think everyone’s lost their goddamned minds.

“So what do you want me to do while all of you plan?” You ask, sitting on the couch. Nancy and Robin leave to Nancy’s room. Max and Lucas are by the desk in the corner speaking softly, Dustin is pacing around the room impatiently as he usually does when he’s this restless, while Steve is sitting on the couch beside you, playing with Dustin’s (or is it Mike’s?) walkie-talkie. “Am I allowed to eat something? Because I’m starving.”

Dustin snatches the walkie-talkie from Steve’s hand. “You’re gonna break that.”

Dustin’s, then.

“We don’t know yet,” Lucas says, walking over to where you are, holding Max’s hand gently. “We’re hoping the girls find out something from Victor. In the meantime…”

“You can eat,” Steve concludes. “... Right?”

“Right,” Max nods.

“We have to do something soon,” Dustin’s the most anxious you’ve ever seen him, even before you took him to see The Empire Strikes Back. “We don’t know how much time you even have once the visions and all the hallucinations start. We said twenty four hours but we can’t be sure.”

“If it helps, they started today. At Dinah’s.”

“You snapped out of it, right?” When you nod, Steve shrugs. “Henderson, I think we have time to order some pizza, at least.”

“And a movie?” You ask, finally relaxing into the couch. You toss away your shoes and hug them to your chest. “Does Mike have The Breakfast Club somewhere around here?”

“Not that movie again,” Dustin groans.

You throw a pillow at your brother, who manages to dodge it easily. “It’s a great movie!”

“It lost its charm after the thirteen time you forced me to watch it with you.”

“The Breakfast Club?” Steve asks aloud. “(Y/N) Henderson is obsessed with The Breakfast Club? Is that why Dustin is always renting it at Family Video?”

Dustin huffs, offended. “Why else would I want to rent that stupid movie?”

“Molly Ringwald,” Steve answers, at the same time you yell out, “It’s not stupid!”

When Nancy comes downstairs she informs you that sadly no, she doesn’t have The Breakfast Club, but that she should. She does have the soundtrack, however, and you think about asking to borrow it tomorrow before she goes back upstairs to order a pizza.

A while later it’s almost midnight, everyone around you is tired, except maybe for Dustin, but the majority wins and you all decide getting some sleep is the best option. You agree, but know that you’re probably not getting any sleep tonight, either; you’ve been having nightmares every night for the past few days and you don’t believe today is going to be any different.

When the lights go off and everyone is already starting to doze off, Dustin is quick to turn his flashlight on.

“Dude! Turn that off!” Steve moans, launching a pillow straight into his face. Dustin doesn’t dodge this one this time, much to Robin and Steve’s satisfaction, who chuckle lightly.

“C’mon, Dustin, what the hell?” Lucas groans.

“Shut up! I’m trying to see if I can find something else in Ms Kelly’s files!”

“Dude,” Max sighs, “you’ve read them each four times already.” 

“You won’t be able to find anything if you’re exhausted,” Nancy tries more softly. “Just try to sleep for a bit, okay?”

“Dustin, c’mon,” you reach for his hand— it’s a bit uncomfortable from your position on the couch and his on the floor, but you do it anyway. That seems to soothe him slightly, to see you still offering comfort, like you’re still yourself. He manages a weak nod, and he squeezes your hand slightly before turning the flashlight off.

After a few minutes, Dustin starts snoring loudly. Steve, who you’re unfortunately stuck sharing the couch with, chuckles.

“He’s a good kid,” he says.

“Yeah,” you can’t help but agree. You wouldn’t trade your dork brother for anything. “He’s great. When he was little, he used to wet his bed all time after watching scary movies with me, and he’d wake me up to change his sheets so my dad wouldn’t yell at him for ruining them.”

“Steve raises a silent eyebrow at you, sounding amused. “And you actually did that?”

“I forced him to watch them. I felt bad,” you smile at the memory. “He would offer to wash the dishes for me, though.”

“Your moral compass is stronger than mine,” he hums.

“You know, he…” you start, unsure if Dustin would be upset if you shared this, then decide it’s not as embarrassing as telling him he used to wet his bed, and continue, “he really admires you. God knows why, Harrington, but he worships the ground you walk on.”

“Henderson?” He asks, a little in disbelief. “I don’t know—”

“I’m serious, Harrington. He loves you,” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. There had been a time where you thought Steve was almost a replacement for you as an older sibling, but as time went on you realized how important Steve was to him. 

“Well. I’m pretty loveable.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure.”

“He’s pretty loveable, too,” Steve says after a few beats of silence, more softly now. “I don’t have any siblings, did you know that? So it’s… uhm, really cool to have him around. Even if he’s kind of a little shit sometimes.”

“Such a little shit,” you agree.

The rest of the group seems to be asleep already, or maybe they don’t care about the conversation enough to join you. Steve starts telling you about the time Dustin burrowed his hair gel and almost set fire to his bathroom, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.

It’s not long before you start to feel abnormally cold, and can’t keep your body from trembling. Steve’s gentle voice is gone. The room is dark around you, and realizing that you must’ve fallen asleep while talking with Steve at some point, you hug yourself trying to seek some warmth. You try to grab a blanket from somewhere. Jesus, it’s spring for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be this cold. But you realize that despite the darkness you can see, and when you look up at the ceiling, you find a grandfather clock that most definitely doesn’t belong in the Wheeler’s basement.

“(Y/N).”

The voice calling your name is unfamiliar and it makes you feel ill almost immediately, like your stomach has turned into nothing but knots. You try to speak, to ask who it is, but nothing comes out, you can barely even breathe.

“Do you think you could ever keep living with this guilt?” The voice asks, somehow you feel as if the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. It’s like nails scraping against chalkboard in your eardrums. “Knowing what you did to your family?”

You want to turn around and find the voice, but you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. The clock is ticking, haunting you, calling for you. You want nothing but to run away from it, but you can’t move— you’re glued in place somehow, maybe in fear, you can’t tell. Everything is uncertain, except for the clock. The clock, you know, it’s real. 

It’s counting down. You know what it’s trying to tell you. It’s coming for you and you can’t escape it. It’s only a matter of time now.

“Soon, (Y/N)...” It whispers. “Soon, I’ll come for you, and no one will be able to help you, (Y/N)... (Y/N). (Y/N)!”

You open your eyes with a gasp to find Steve’s arms around your shoulders, shaking you slightly. His eyes are wide, a little frightened. When you look around you find Lucas and Max draped all over a chair, their chests rising slowly, asleep. Dustin is in a sleeping bag on the floor, near Robin and Nancy, hugging each other tightly in their sleep. Steve is the only one awake.

“Shit,” you say, placing your hand in your heart. “Did I wake you?”

“We were talking and then you just went somewhere,” he says. “You don’t remember?”

You suddenly feel very cold. “I thought I was sleeping. I saw…” You think about telling Steve, but it seems pointless now, almost. What would you tell him? You saw a clock? “I think it was one of those hallucinations you guys keep talking about. You’re really freaking me the hell out, you know.”

“Fuck, I think Dustin’s right,” he says.

“About me being cursed by a being from another dimension? Are you kidding?”

Steve does manage to look apologetic. “I know it sounds bonkers, but that’s because it is. I’ve seen it.”

“What? This other dimension?” You were starting to think Dustin and his nanny were just trying to play an extremely elaborate joke on you.

“The Upside Down, but no,” he shakes his head, and then his eyes land somewhere around the room, focusing on one of Mike’s many posters. “The monsters.”

“Vecna?” 

“Others,” he says, then murmurs, “Haven’t had the pleasure just yet.”

“The demoger…? What was it?”

“Demogorgon, yeah,” he grumbles. “The Mind flayer too. It’s all real. I wish Will and Eleven were here to actually explain this stuff; they are the ones who actually know their stuff about this.”

You have never seen Steve actually sound so… serious, before. It’s all actually starting to freak you out, you decide, and you aren’t sure if you actually want to find out if it’s all actually real or not. You stay silent for a few moments, sleep escaping you. You figure Steve’s fallen asleep until his voice startles you again.

“You okay there, Henderson?”

No, you want to say. You can’t shake the feeling that the voice is watching you, waiting to catch you by surprise. “Yeah,” you mumble, sleepless, scared.

Steve doesn’t seem to buy your answer however, because you feel his body shifting near your side of the couch, sitting right beside you. When you give him a look (he’s so close he can actually make it out) he clicks his tongue.

“See, I don’t really believe you, Henderson. So, I’m gonna stay near you, just in case you get another vision. Or if you want to hold my hand.”

“Screw you, Steve,” You glare, turning to the other side so that your view is Harrington-less. If you do feel better with him beside you, that’s between you and maybe Vecna, if he’s actually inside your head.

In the morning, when you wake up and Nancy and Robin are both gone (probably visiting a murderer in a mental hospital) and Steve is tangled up beside you, you decide you’ve had enough. 

“So we’re just gonna wait around to see what happens?” Dustin argues, as Lucas and Max try to reason with him.

“What else can we do?” Lucas asks, frustrated.

“Literally anything else, dude! My sister might die!”

“Okay, Dustin, you need to stop and we need to go home, now,” you tell him, looking around the basement for your jacket.

“No!” he points at you. “You’re not going anywhere until we know what to do.”

“Dustin. I’m four years older than you,” you glare, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m the older sibling. I’ve entertained this enough already, but I left mom’s car at Dinah’s and we need to go get it and then get our asses home before mom loses her shit.”

“(Y/N)! Listen to me!”

“No, Dustin!” You finally snap, taking Dustin’s walkie-talkie from his hand and shoving it into your bag despite his protests. “I’ve had enough about monsters and other dimensions and whatever other nonsense Eddie Munson has been feeding you! We’re going home, now!”

“I can’t believe I’m actually trying to help you!” Dustin screams, “You suck!”

“Well, you’re stuck with me!”

“I wish I wasn’t,” he says, his eyes cold. “I wish you weren’t my sister.”

The chills return like a slap across your face, making you stumble backwards slightly. The room around you turns dark immediately, the only person left is Dustin in front of you. But it’s not him, it can’t be, his eyes have never looked this lifeless.

“You took his chance away, didn’t you?” The unfamiliar, bone chilling voice returns. “His chance of having a real family, or at least a father figure. He’s right in wishing you weren’t his sister. He deserves someone better.”

Again you want to scream, but it’s like your mouth is taped shut. Around you Mike Wheeler’s basement seems to fade away into blue, and suddenly you’re standing on your front porch, watching your dad walk away. You’re saying the hardness around your eyes, your lips drawn into a tight line. You don’t look like yourself; you look older, and tired, and disappointed, more like a woman than the girl you were when this happened, the girl you must’ve been.

“Don’t come back again,” you tell your father’s retreating form. But your voice is distorted, so far away. 

“How many times has Dustin needed his father?” The voice asks. When you blink you’re somewhere else; not Mike’s basement, not your home. There’s splinters of wood scattered by your feet, like a house just destroyed. Everywhere around you is red, like blood, like the blood in those horror movies you forced Dustin to watch because he made them less scary when he squealed. “Are you proud you broke up your family?”

“I was a kid,” you manage to say, and only now you realize you’ve been crying all along, the salty tears wetting your dry lips. “I didn’t want Dustin to know what he did. I would take it back if I knew he wouldn’t actually come back.”

“But you did it anyway. You did.”

I did, I did, I did, you think, over and over. You close your eyes, hard, ignoring how it almost hurts.

“You miss him too, don’t you? Despite everything. You’re sadder about the fact that he left you, too. He left his daughter behind.”

“Who are you?” You hiss out, through your anguish.

“I’m part of you, (Y/N). Whether you want to or not.”

You’re not alone. When you open your eyes you see him — a monster, vicious even in looks, like someone slowly peeled away his skin, and all that was left of him was muscle and meat, not even blood. Vecna. Around you there are two different bloody columns, and you’re quick to notice they’re holding Chrissy and Fred’s bodies, like morbid museum displays, tokens. He was right, Dustin was telling the truth about everything, and now you were going to die because you didn’t listen to him.

“No,” you want to say, you want to scream. But you’re not strong enough, you can’t—

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You blink through your tears. You manage to recognize that melody in this unfamiliar place. You want to run towards it, but you’re not sure your legs can even respond to your commands right now.

Vecna seems to think something’s wrong, too, because as the song progresses he grows more impatient. “You think you can escape like this?”

Tell me your troubles and doubts

Giving everything inside and out and

Love's strange, so real in the dark

Think of the tender things that we were working on

His hands— his claws are stroking your cheeks, an aborted tender gesture, like he’s trying to soothe his prey before going for the kill. It’s over, you think, there’s nothing but this certain death. But then; you think of the hundreds of times you forced Dustin to watch this movie with you; of you both playing with Tews until he scratches one of you in annoyance; driving Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will to the movies; getting ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and guggling when Steve gets rejected once again; putting Dustin’s hair in braids and practicong makeup on him when he was younger; asking Will Byers what he was sketching at the park; Dustin and you laughing during dinner because of some stupid joke. You think about last night, sleeping beside Steve, and the way he made you laugh.

Don't you, forget about me

Don't, don't, don't, don't

Don't you, forget about me

You can’t give up. You can’t leave Dustin.

Somehow you manage to pull Vecna off you with a shove, and you run. You run, you run as fast as your legs let you, as your jeans stain with what looks like blood, as Vecna screams at you. You run like you've never run before.

And then you gasp and you’re falling.

“Shit, fuck, shit!” Someone’s arms are around you, and it takes you a second to calm down to realize it’s Steve, and that you’re in Mike Wheeler’s basement and you’re alive, somehow.

“Holy fucking shit,” Max is saying, but you can barely hear her over the rapid beating of your own heart— erratic, but unquestionably alive. 

“God, god, (Y/N),” Dustin’s voice stands out from the others, and when you look at him there are tears streaming down his eyes, and you can barely process anything before you’re trying to reach for him despite feeling like you’re not even in your own body.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Steve letting go of yours. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“I thought you were gonna die,” he whimpers.

“I’m here,” you breathe out. “Oh my God, I’m here thanks to you.”

You realize that the song is still playing, only to notice the headphones in your ears. You see your scattered bag around the room, and the walkie-talkie that Dustin must’ve been looking for already on the floor. Don’t You (Forget About Me) slowly fades to an end before the next song on the soundtrack starts.

“I’m sorry,” Dustin says into your shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were going through something, I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head, holding your little brother even closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Fuck, Dustin, I’m so sorry.”

You stay like that for a moment, hugging Dustin on the carpet, Max and Lucas hovering near, and Steve’s hand on your shoulder, grounding you.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

When you explain to Nancy what happened and what you saw once she comes back from Pennhurst she’s quick to pinpoint the house you saw when you met Vecna as Victor Creel’s house. All of you grab your things and head to that location. You try to not feel so dreadful, and Dustin forcing you to listen to Don’t You the entire car ride and holding onto your jacket sleeve helps soothe your nerves, at least a little bit.

But Victor Creel’s house is something out of a horror story, dark and abandoned as it is, and the only light source in the house seems to be the hole Robin made when she smashed the window.

“Let’s split up,” Nancy offers, and everyone seems to comply much to your dismay.

Lucas and Max leave to investigate with Dustin (reluctantly parting from your side) trailing off behind them, Nancy and Robin head upstairs and you and Steve are stuck together and instructed to stay downstairs by Nancy, the only thing illuminating your way being your flashlights.

You wander through hallways, staring at ruined wallpaper and dusty portraits. Victor and his family seemed so happy in their pictures, and you wonder why nobody, family or not, ever came to look for their things. The house seemed frozen in time, like one day the family had decided to get up and leave everything behind, the house nothing more than ghosts.

“I hate this place,” you comment, trying to hug yourself tightly to keep the cold at bay. “Thinking that people died here is…”

“Horrible,” Steve finishes for you. “Yeah… Fuck this place, man.”

When you turn to a corner, you freeze in place.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re seeing this, right?” You point at a clock with your flashlight, unmoving. It’s the same clock from your visions, the one you saw before meeting Vecna.

“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Real old. Why?”

“I saw it,” you try to explain through the rapid beating of your own heart. “In my visions, I mean. This clock was in them— well, the second one, mostly. In the Wheeler’s basement last night.”

“Shit…” Eloquent as ever, Steve Harrington. “Has to mean something, right?”

“If anything it proves Nancy and Robin were right. It all started here.” You finally force yourself to look away and continue forward, ignoring the way you feel your skin crawling. You hold up your cassette before re-starting the song.  “What would happen if I suddenly got tired of this song? Will it no longer work? Does this mean Vecna will… come back for me?”

“Listen, I— I’m not a genius at this like your brother, or like Nancy, or even Robin,” Steve admits, very honestly. “But I promise we’ll find a way, even if that happens. Besides, Dustin told us how much you love this song. Seems kinda impossible you’ll ever get tired of it if you listen to it every day. And listen, I gotta ask. Breakfast club?”

“What?” You feel heat rise up to your cheeks, embarrassed. You start walking away from the clock, trying to get rid of the chills that had gotten ahold of you just a few moments before. “It’s a great movie.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve says, and even though you can’t really see him in the dark, you can hear his smirk, picture his smile. He’s teasing, and you’re kind of glad for it. It helps. “I just didn’t think it would be your thing, is all.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my thing then?”

“I don’t know. You seem like a Dune fan, maybe.” He wonders out loud, your flashlight lighting the way. 

“I do like the book.”

“See?” Steve points at his temple. “I knew it.”

“I think working at Family Video is finally getting to you.”

“I’m good at reading people,” he says, and you raise another silent eyebrow at him. He continues, “I’d always thought of you as a little brainiac, and that you’d liked movies that were kinda difficult. You were always reading in school. I didn’t think you’d like teen flicks and Hughes.”

“Dune is not difficult. And maybe you don’t really know me enough to know what my thing is,” you shrug. “... Or maybe every girl is a little bit in love with Judd Nelson.”

“Yeah,” Steve actually laughs. “Can’t beat that hair.”

And you can’t help yourself, you smirk. You think you might actually be dreaming, or maybe this curse made Steve seem more tolerable than usual. “You give him a good run for his money.”

“We’re still talking about hair here, right?”

Now you point your flashlight at Steve and elbow him.

“I’m just asking!”

“It was a stupid question. And just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking teen flicks,” you say, continuing to walk and not waiting to see if Steve follows. “Pretty in Pink is my new favorite movie and my GPA is still 3.5.”

“Oh wow. Pretty in Pink?” He whistles. “You have a soft spot for Molly Ringwald.”

“Who doesn’t?”

He hums in response.

You stay like that for a moment, walking through dusty hallways and trying to avoid spider webs. Even with the flashlights the place looks abandoned and lonely, and there’s a coldness running down your spine that you can’t shake off no matter how much you try. You focus on trying to catch the sound of Steve’s breathing to somehow ground yourself to reality. It feels like ever since meeting Vecna your grip on reality slowly fades away, like someone is unraveling the carpet from underneath you, trying to catch you by surprise. Like you’re falling into an abyss of darkness and you can’t hold onto anything— because nothing around you is truly real. And so you bite your lip to keep yourself from reaching out to Steve and holding on. You can’t think of a moment you’ve felt as uncertain as you do now; but Steve’s teasing and your bickering back and forth is normal, makes you feel like you’re not actually in immediate danger. You figure if there’s a different dimension called the Upside Down, then you can most definitely forgive Steve Harrington for being a jerk in High School. He has more than proven himself to you. 

Because the truth is that maybe Vecna will win. Maybe you will never beat this curse. And you’ll end up like Chrissy Cunningham, like Fred Benson, like Patrick McKinney; just dead bodies along the trail.

“Hey, Steve,” you call, slowing down to walk beside him. He turns to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Uhm. If something… like, happened to me—”

“Woah, woah, wait,” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing will. We beat the curse, remember? With the song?”

“Yeah, but we didn’t actually beat it, did we?” Now you do turn to look at him, and his big eyes almost render you speechless. You don’t know what to call the look on his eyes, but it makes you want to look away from him; makes you want to run. “Listen, Steve, I just— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, quickly. You think he’s noticed how embarrassed you feel, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re just scared shitless like the rest of us.”

“It’s not that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk around you and picking fights with you. You’ve— you’ve been there for Dustin when I wasn’t, and I guess you’re not actually a bad guy. So… I’m sorry I judged you. And thank you, I guess. For being there for Dustin. And… me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a second. You’re still looking anywhere but him, now focusing your eyes on a spider in one of the many spider webs in front of you. You feel embarrassed and stupid, but a little bit better. You know you’re doing the right thing by apologizing— you know Steve now, better than you’ve ever thought you would. You finally dare to take one look at him and his eyes are still on you, and when your eyes lock, he smiles softly.

“You’re apologizing for that?” Steve asks, and when you nod matter of factly, he tilts his head to the side. “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day Henderson’s sister apologized to me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Harrington,” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. “I’m only doing this because I might die.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. “Fair enough,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, Henderson. To be honest, I think I kind of deserved it. I was an asshole in High School, so… yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry it took me getting kicked off the clique to realize you’re not half bad.”

“Well,” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “It took me almost dying to realize you’re not half bad either. I think we’re even.”

Steve stops in his tracks, making you stop, too, a little confused. You turn to look at him, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so… earnest, maybe. You can’t name the look on his face, but you can’t look away, can’t seem to be able to keep walking. You’re frozen in place.

“You’re not gonna die, Henderson,” he says, determined. “I won’t let you.”

Your mouth goes dry. All you can do in response is nod. You want to say something, but the words escape you, and so you stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. You wonder if Steve can hear the rapid beating of your heart, if he can make out the way your eyes drop to his lips for a slow second despite the darkness around you both.

Then you hear Dustin yell out, “Guys!” and the moment fades away.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

Finding Eddie at Skull Rock seems to be harder than it should be, and once you find him you’re made to follow Dustin’s apparently broken compass. You feel like you’re wandering through the desert, with no clear path in mind. Dustin is at the front, with Lucas and Max following closely behind, Eddie (who you now have a hard time believing would ever be able to kill anyone), Robin and Nancy in front of you and Steve.

You find yourself time and time again choosing to spend more time with Steve, that he seems to be the one able to actually make you feel grounded, like you’re not gonna die in the next three seconds. You feel like yourself around him; but different. Steve is different. This whole experience is making you rethink everything you’ve ever known.

You can’t help but wonder in the silence about Dustin and the others, guiding the rest of you through the night time in the forest. Despite all of them being younger than you, they don’t seem to need your help, especially Dustin, who you think is completely in his element leading the way.

After a while of walking in silence, Dustin announces that the compass seems to be going even crazier. At this, Robin pries it off his hands to confirm that it’s true. Eddie and Dustin argue for a second about following the compass and make another Lord of the Rings reference that has you smiling.

“He’s not half bad,” you comment. “Eddie, I mean.”

“I still don’t know what the hell Modor is,” Steve mumbles under his breath.

You don’t try to explain Lord of The Rings to him— you don’t think there’s even enough time. But, maybe one day, when Hawkins isn’t in imminent danger and Steve still wants to hang out with your uncool self for whatever reason.

“What do you think we’ll find wherever this stupid compass is taking us?” You ask him, trying to avoid accidentally stepping on some poison ivy. Just your luck to get cursed and also poisoned on the same week. “You know more about this than me.”

“I’m actually more like, the, uhm, action guy of the group.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t know where we’re going,” You conclude.

Steve nods. “No damn clue, Henderson.”

“Great,” you chuckle lightly. 

“All I know is that it’s probably a portal Vecna opened after killing someone.”

“A portal. To the upside down?” When Steve nods in confirmation, you sigh. “I still can’t get used to how crazy this is.”

“The third time you do this you kind of just start going with the flow of things,” Steve admits. “Russian spies, MK-Ultra, different dimensions, monsters— it all just kind of starts to sound like background noise.”

“Dustin and the kids seem to really know about all of this.”

“They do,” Steve nods. “Dustin is like, their leader. Our leader, I guess.”

“My little brother… fighting communists and monsters.” You shake your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. How did Nancy? With you and Mike?”

Steve stops for a second to frown at you. “With me?”

“You know, with Nancy and you dating.”

“Me and Nancy?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, me and Nance just… we go way back, but she’s with Jonathan. That ship sailed a long time ago. We’re friends now. Besides, she’s the one killing more monsters than me.”

“Oh.”

There’s no way to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at this, or the hopeful glint in Steve’s eyes. The rest of the woods disappear and it’s only you and Steve and your rapidly beating heart. The others are lost to you, in their own little world, searching in the dark with their flashlights like fireflies.

“Yeah,” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “And, just in case, me and Robin are not a thing, either. Just friends.”

“Platonic with a capital P!” You hear Robin yell out in front of you.

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at Steve’s blush. “Yeah, yeah, think she got it, Buckley, thanks.”

“You’re welcome!”

“That’s… good to know,” you comment.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, then scratches his chin. “Is it? Good to know?”

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. Okay. Maybe is—” he breathes out. “Maybe is cool.”

“Maybe is really cool,” you allow yourself a small smile.

“Really?” Steve inquires, and when he notices his smile he gifts you one of his own. “Okay. That’s great. Maybe is really cool. Cool. Cool beans.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, finally daring to look at him.

Steve follows your movement with his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, breathless.

“Hey guys,” Dustin’s voice rings out, the moment gone. “I think we found the portal!”

You both follow Dustin’s voice until you reach a lake, where Eddie explains Vecna killed Patrick when he was running away from Jason and the rest of the basketball team. 

“So the portal is… what?” Robin asks, “Underwater?”

Dustin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

He starts climbing up the boat, and you’re quick to grab him by the sleeves of his shirt to stop him.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.

“Looking for the portal,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly.

“You told me this portal is supposed to teleport you to another dimension, one Will Byers got stuck in,” you reply, pulling him away from the boat. “You’re not going anywhere near that portal. None of you kids are.”

“Who died and made you the boss?”

“Three people died,” you note.

“I made her the boss,” Robin quips. “Well, Nancy might technically be the boss, actually. Nance?”

Nancy blinks at Robin’s words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“Nance says yes.”

Eddie frowns. “Yes to being the boss or yes to—”

“Let’s just go,” Nancy urges, gesturing at Steve to help her drag the boat offshore. Steve complies, and helps Nancy climb into the boat, followed by Robin and then Eddie.

“But what about the curse?” Dustin wonders, looking at you.

“I have this, remember?” You hold up the cassette player, and wink at your brother. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Look after Lucas and Max. Nancy might be the boss, but you’re their leader.”

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, sounding more like he’s talking to reassure himself than anything. 

“Compass, please,” you tell him, and Dustin complies unhappily. You can’t help yourself from grabbing him by the cheeks and kissing his forehead like you did when he was younger. Despite being a good leader, a fighter, he’ll always be little Dusty, who steals your waffles and makes really bad coffee. “See you soon.”

Steve offers his hand to help you climb the boat and you take it with a tiny smile.

The trip on the boat is short and dark. Even with Steve using his flashlight to try and light the way, it’s barely enough to keep you from being engulfed in the darkness of the night. When was the last time the moon shone down in Hawkins? There are almost no stars above, the view chillingly dark. You fear what you might find. Nancy stares at Dustin’s compass, trying to give any semblance of direction when the compass starts going crazy.

Steve starts pulling off his socks. 

“Steve,” Nancy says slowly, “what are you doing?”

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Was one of you four Hawkin’s High’s swimming co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years?” He figures, already working on his other shoe. “It’s gotta be me, no complaints, alright?”

Eddie chuckles nervously. “Hey… I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”

You watch as Eddie takes something off his pocket and throws it on the boat’s floor. You want to stop Steve somehow, irrationally, because as far as you know Nancy, Robin and Eddie can’t dive, and you can barely float — but the words die on your throat when you look up and Steve is peeling off his shirt.

“Here,” Eddie says, and you realize now he had wrapped a plastic bag around a flashlight and is now handing it back to Steve. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, taking it from his hands.

“Steve,” Robin rasps out before he dives, and Steve stops to look at her. “Don’t… die?”

“Gee,” he scoffs. “Thanks for the encouraging speech, Robs.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Don’t die, seriously,” you manage to tell him, wanting to reach for his hand but stopping yourself. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Steve nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but keeps his mouth shut before diving underwater.

The silence on the boat almost kills you, as it rocks quietly, everyone holds their breath waiting for Steve to come up once again. Your heart is in your throat, Don’t You still playing softly in your eardrums, the cassette player still on, a constant to remind you you’re still here. Miraculously.

“He’s…” Eddie whistles. “He’s got balls, King Steve.”

“Yeah,” you nod, looking at the water like you’re hypnotized, waiting for his soaked head to pop up.

“Not what you’d expect,” he adds, a little quietly.

“No,” Robin says, and the way she says it— so fond, so genuine. You couldn’t agree more. Steve is so much more than what you’d expected him to be. “Not at all.”

You stay silent for a few more seconds, all of you waiting for Steve to come back. When he does he emerges with a gasp for air, startling the rest of you. Eddie screams so loud you hear it perfectly well over the music.

“Found it,” Steve claims, holding onto the edge of the boat.

“You found it?” Nancy repeats.

“It was pretty wild,” Steve explains that he seemed to have stumbled into the portal, like an open gate illuminating the bottom of the lake and tinting it red. “It was pretty damn big—”

Before he can continue, Steve is pulled into the water once again, and you jump up instinctively, trying to reach for his hand, but he escapes your grasp quickly. He emerges again and you breathe a sigh of relief— but it’s short lived, because Steve is dragged under once again and he’s not coming up.

“Steve!” you yell. “Steve!”

“What the hell was that, man?!”

Between all the screaming going on, the only thing you can think about is Steve, Steve, Steve—

And so you stand up.

“Wait, (Y/N),” Nancy starts, “What are you—”

“You’re not going in there!” Eddie screams, trying to grab you by the arm.

“I—” You start, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. You don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you know you’ll do it anyway. You have no plan, that much is certain, you’ve never fought a day in your life. “I can’t just stay here!”

“Are you insane?!”

Robin pales. “No, (Y/N), wait—”

With one last look at the rest of the guys, you dive into the water and swim. You’ve never been a good swimmer, but you find yourself swimming like you’ve never had, quickly finding the red portal Steve had mentioned before being dragged down here. What you find on the other side reminds you of when you met Vecna— when he showed you your memories, cold, distorted and dark. You briefly wonder if Vecna had managed to drag you all the way here then, but you have no time to dwell on it too much.

Steve is laying on his back, as some creatures bite at his abdomen incessantly, like leeches. They are choking him, curling their tails around his neck. You stand up and run towards him, only to notice the others have followed behind you, their wet footsteps a reassurance.

“(Y/N)!” Nancy yells, making you turn. She throws one of the boat’s paddles at you, keeping one for herself. 

You manage to catch it, God knows how. Steve is still struggling when you get to him, and the first thing you do is smack one of the things across the face, forcing it on its back and stopping it from further gnawing Steve’s abdomen. You see as Robin starts stomping on the one who has its tail curled around Steve’s neck, and Nancy takes on the other one.

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs when he looks up the sky and sees even more of them approaching.

One of them starts going after Nancy, Eddie trying to come to her rescue by grabbing Steve’s still working flashlight and smacking it as hard as he can manage. You help Robin by hitting the one she’s stomping on with the paddle, until Steve manages to bite its tail, forcing it to curl itself from his neck. 

With more coming, you are distracted enough to barely notice when Steve manages to behead it, his lips stained with pitch black blood.

“Jesus christ,” Eddie mumbles. “Jesus H Christ!”

The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heartbeat going faster— everything seems to go for so long, when in reality it must’ve been just a few minutes.

“Steve,” you manage to rasp out, walking towards him, only looking at his wounds, unsure of what you can do to help him. “Shit, Steve, are you okay?”

“They only took about a pound of flesh,” he says, making you sigh. “But other than that… Yeah, never better.”

He stares at you when he says it, and you can’t help the way your breath catches.

“You’ll need bandages,” Nancy notes.

“Do you guys know if these bats have like, rabbies?” Robin wonders aloud. Aware that everyone’s eyes are on her, Robin starts rambling about rabies symptoms and death. You and Steve glance at each other.

Steve’s chest is still rising erratically, exhausted, when he asks, “What the hell are you talking about, Robin?”

Before Robin can go on any longer though, the sky is tinted red again, and the screeching of even more approaching creatures gets you on edge. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you say, and the rest of the group seem to agree.

The five of you break into a run into the forest, as far as you can before Steve’s wounds start to appear more serious, and when Nancy deems it safe enough, you stop near a tree where Steve can lean against, still breathing rapidly. You remember that Nancy said he’d need bandages, and so you take the hem of your pants and start ripping them open.

“What are you—” Steve starts.

“Bandages,” you say. “I saw this in Indiana Jones.”

“Indiana Jones?” Steve asks with a chuckle, looking up at the sky, smiling. “Your movie choices keep surprising me, Henderson.”

You tie the cloth around his wounds as tightly as you can, hopeful that it’s a good enough job to keep him from bleeding out until you guys get out of here. The wounds don’t look too bad, but you have no idea how long you'll stay here for. Nancy, looking over your shoulders, seems to approve of your bandage work.

“Thanks,” Steve rasps out.

“Just don’t die on me,” you nod, staring at his eyes.

“I’ll try not to.”

He holds your gaze, your mouth going even more dry than it already is. “I’ll hold you to that, Harrington.”

You’re interrupted when Steve catches something behind you. It’s Eddie’s jean vest. When you turn, Eddie scrunches up his nose.

“For modesty, man.”

“We escaped now, but there’s more of those monsters than what we saw,” Nancy interrupts, walking around, trying to think. “They’ll come looking for us. We need to get out of here.”

“So,” Eddie starts, running a hand through his mouth. “What the hell do we do now? How do we get out of here, exactly?”

“We need to find another portal, right?” Robin replies. “That’s the only way to get out of here. But we can’t go back to Watergate, it’s probably full of those bats now. Those bats full of rabies!”

 “Right now, the most important thing is to defend ourselves,” Nancy says. “We don’t know what kind of monsters are down here. Maybe they’re even worse than that.”

“Hell,” Eddie breathes. “You think Vecna is here?”

“I don’t know… Maybe.”

A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vecna’s name. Your hand flies to your ear, and only then you realize you’ve jumped in the water with your headphones on, and when you reach the player secured inside your front pocket it’s wet and broken. Through the adrenaline of the fight, you hadn’t even noticed that the song was no longer playing. 

“Shit,” Nancy breathes out, looking at your ruined headphones. “The player.”

“It’s ruined,” you lament, seeing the way it’s soaked. You toss the cassette player to the ground, near Steve’s feet, who pales even more, if it’s even possible.

“Fuck,” he says, breathless, the slight reassuring smile he’d been wearing disappears in an instant. He stands up straight despite his body clearly protesting against it. “We need to find another one before it’s too late.”

“Would it even work here?” Robin wonders. “If it’s one from the Upside Down, I mean. Things seem to be… kind of broken here, don’t they?”

“Then we need to get her out of here right now,” Steve urges, and when he starts trying to walk away it’s Eddie who stops him.

“Dude, do you want your intestines to hang out of your abdomen like some shitty Nightmare on Elm Street scene?” he asks, “Stay still! Those bats could be anywhere!”

“We need to move!”

“Steve, wait a second,” you urge after him.

“We could go to my house,” Nancy offers. “I have guns. We could use them to fend off the demo… bats, or whatever. And we need a player. We can use Mike’s, he has one he didn’t take to California.”

Eddie blinks. “You, Nancy Wheeler… have guns.”

Robin grins. “Full of surprises, isn’t she?”

Steve is already on his way despite his groans of pain, and even though the wounds had seemed pretty superficial to you when you wrapped them up, it doesn’t mean that they don’t hurt like a bitch.

“Steve, you’re just hurting yourself even more now,” Now Robin is sighing, exasperated. You briefly wonder how many times she’s had to deal with Steve like this.

“Let’s go,” he says, ignoring her.

“Steve...” you try to stop him, but he turns around quickly.

“Let’s go!” 

Robin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Where are we even going, oh great leader?”

“Nancy’s!”

You all turn to look at each other, unsure if following Steve is the best idea, but with nothing else to do and no other ideas, there’s only one thing to do.

And so you all start walking.

📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼

It’s a while before you arrive at the Wheeler’s, the five of you mostly exhausted from the fight, with Steve clutching his wounds but still leading the way, right next to Nancy. You’re all on edge the entire way back, but despite the lack of music you don’t feel different yet, and you don’t encounter any more demobats, as Nancy had called them.

Nancy’s house seems haunted in this place, just as much as the rest of Hawkins seems to be. Despite housing monsters, the Upside Down looks more like a ghost town than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder how tiny Will Byers had ever survived something like this so young… Nobody ever gives that kid enough credit. 

Nancy wastes no time climbing up the stairs; she almost seems unaffected looking at her house like this, so… dead. She hovers near a door and turns to look at you.

“This is Mike’s room,” she nods at it. “His cassette player should be in there. Me, Eddie and Robin will get the guns and look for the cassette in my room.”

You agree to it, and she disappears down the hallway along with Eddie and Robin. You and Steve enter Mike’s room, start rummaging through cabinets. You work in silence. You’ve never seen Steve this quiet, this focused. You wonder if he’s mad at you— he had to be. Now besides demobats and trying to escape, he had to help you too because you’d went and done something stupid and completely irrational.

Steve clears his throat, holding up something in his hand. “Found it,” he calls. “Think it’ll work?” He wonders aloud, as you close the closet door before walking up to him.

“Here,” You say, then pull your ruined flashlight from your back pocket. You hit the back of it against the palm of your hand and the batteries come off. You’re not sure if this might work since the flashlight got wet and stopped working once you jumped into the water, but once you plug them into the cassette player it seems to come to life. Steve sighs, relieved. “Thank God that worked. Let’s get that stupid cassette and get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” he quips. He wets his lips, looking around. “You don’t feel any different, though, right?” When you shake your head, he seems to be able to relax a bit. “When we were on our way here, Eddie told me you didn’t waste a second to help me.”

You wait for Steve to continue, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been much of an adventurer when we were kids,” you say. “Dustin wanted to climb trees and go camping, and I wanted to stay home and read books. We used to fight all the time because I never wanted to play outside with him, because I was scared of bugs and dirt and I just wanted to stay inside.”

Steve doesn’t say anything to that, but he’s near you, hoving near your hand, like he knows you need the comfort, unsure if it’d be wanted from him. 

“If I don’t make it out of this stupid curse, Steve,” you breathe out, legs feeling so shaky you want to throw up, “I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Dustin.”

“He’ll kill me before I let you die,” Steve says, trying t sound lighthearted but failing.

“Steve,” you rag out. “Promise me. Please.”

Steve nods, his voice soft in the way it does when he’s trying to be gentle. “Y—yeah. Of course. You know little Henderson’s like my own little brother.”

“I know,” you acknowledge. “You’ve been a way better sibling than me. I’ve been such a shitty sister and I’m… I’m really glad Dustin has you.”

“That’s not true,” he argues, reaching for your arm in the darkness of the room— you want to flinch away. “He loves you, (Y/N). Seriously, you should hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around.”

You ignore the sting in your eyes and berate yourself for tearing up.

“It’s my fault,” you whisper.

“What?”

“It’s my fault my dad walked away,” you shake your head, tearing your arm away from Steve’s touch, feeling cold as soon as you’re away from him. But you deserve it, you deserve the cold. “I told him I hated him after I learned he cheated on mom and that he had another family, and he never came back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’m the reason Dustin doesn’t have a dad now. But— but I was just fifteen, I didn’t— I didn’t know what I was asking—”

“Stop, stop,” Steve interrupts, and suddenly he’s pulling you close to your chest and holding you close.

And suddenly that’s all you need to break down, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You feel embarrased, stupid for crying about something like this when the world might be about to end, horrifyingly guilty for everything— but for the first time you feel like something has been finally lifted off your chest and you can breathe, here, with Steve holding you. You’re glad Steve stayed behind with you. In truth, you think you might just be glad for Steve.

If someone had told you a week ago you’d be crying in Steve Harrington’s arms you would’ve smacked them. Life can change really fast, huh?

“Nobody is going to die,” his voice is so soft. You’d never thought you’d think of Steve’s voice as anything other than grating, but now you hold onto it like a lifeline. “I won’t let that happen.”

You breathe into his chest. You finally manage to let go of him, thanking God the others weren’t near. You miss the warmth almost immediately, as much as you don’t want to admit it. “Shit, sorry, your bandages.”

“You need to stop doing that,” he quips.

“What?”

“Apologizing so much,” he reaches for your arm again before walking, and you thank him silently. You have to bite your tongue not to apologize again. “Let’s go get that cassette.”

When you both step into Nancy’s room, the silence is almost deafening. 

“What happened?” 

“The guns,” Nancy explains, her eyes focused on her nightstand, not looking up at either of you. “They aren’t here. But so many things that shouldn’t be are. Like— like my curtains, and these— these toys I gifted my cousin Joanna. They haven’t been here since 1983.”

“We’re stuck in time, dude,” Eddie finishes for her.

“Three years, to be exact.”

“What?” Steve asks, confused. “Three years into the past?”

“... From when Will disappeared, you mean?” You question.

Nancy nods. “Yeah, I… think so. But, (Y/N), If we’re three years in the past, it means The Breakfast Club isn’t out yet,” Nancy swallows, hard, then finally looks up to stare into your eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, his chest rising erratically. 

You bite your lip. “She means the song doesn’t exist, either.”

Nancy closes her eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck!” Steve yells, “fuck!”

He kicks one of Nancy’s nightstands with so much force he manages to force it into the ground, Nancy’s belongings following suit, scattering around the carpet, making Nancy flinch. 

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to reach for him. “Stop.”

Steve sits on Nancy’s bed, hand covering his mouth. He lets you rest your hand on his arm, and he breathes out another curse. He almost looks frozen in place like this, and it reminds you that everything in here feels like it is— ghosts, so many ghosts. You feel like you’re stuck in hell. 

“Maybe any song will work,” Robin offers a little desperately, going through Nancy’s drawers, pulling out different cassettes and soundtracks, Duran Duran, Madonna, Elton John. “C’mon guys, one has to work.”

Eddie scratches his neck. “Doesn’t it have to be her favorite song? Isn’t that what Henderon said?”

“Screw it,” Nancy shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. “We have to try whatever we can. This is our only option.”

“Okay,” you nod, shakily, prying your hand off of Steve’s arm, reaching to cruch own next to Robin and look through the rest of Nancy’s cassettes. “Okay, let’s— let’s try it.”

Robin holds up Total Eclipse of the Heart. “You like Bonnie Tyler?” 

“Seems as good as anything,” you nod, taking it from her hands. As the first notes of Total Eclipse start playing, you gulp nervously, praying this might work, that you have at least enough time to get out of here alive.

Steve still looks miserable, but seems a little calmer now. “We need to get out of here right now.”

“How?” Robin sighs. “How did Will ever manage to get out of this place?”

“There has to be a way,” Nancy figures, then something seems to dawn on her. “Will. Will used to talk to Joyce with the Christmas lights while he was stuck in the Upside Down.”

“The Christmas lights?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

As she explains, you can’t help but think that Nancy Wheeler is absolutely brilliant. You can’t blame Steve for falling in love with her before. She’s interrupted by Robin rather quickly though, when she claims she can hear Dustin’s voice— soon enough, all of you start to hear him, distorted and distant, but it's there no less. Quickly Dustin communicates that he thinks there might be another portal in Eddie’s trailer and that seems to be your best shot at an escape.

Robin and Nancy leave to get some supplies for the trip— whatever they can find to use as a weapon, while Eddie wanders off behind them, with the excuse of rummaging through little Wheeler’s action figures. Steve stays with you, as you stare at Holly’s Lite Brite, unsure on what to do. 

You trust Dustin and his plan, of course you do. Dustin’s done nothing but prove himself to you these past few days. Still, the thought that everything might go incredibly wrong is almost unshakable at this point. What was it Max said to you? Something about how Vecna’s curse made people feel hopeless and lonely.

“You okay, right?” Steve wonders aloud, searching your face. “You haven’t had any visions yet?”

You haven’t felt Vecna’s pull yet, but you don’t want to be overly optimistic just yet. “I’m okay, I think. Are you?”

You glance down at his bandages, but he only nods. “Yeah, they don’t hurt anymore. I’m more worried about you.”

Warmth spreads all over your cheeks and inside your chest, but now’s really not the time for all of these feelings, and so you try to squeeze them out, to focus on something else. 

“I just hope the plan works,” you mumble. “I want to get out of here.”

“You—” Steve shakes his head, looks at you with a look you can’t name. But he sounds frustrated, exhausted. “You just jumped in after me? You didn’t even think…” he trails off. “Eddie said you just jumped. Fucking jumped. You’re unbelievable, you know that, don’t you, Henderson? Absolutely fucking unbelievable.” 

You look down at your hands.

“It was stupid, I know, I—”

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, honesty bleeding into every word he speaks. You look up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass back there.”

The truth is you hadn’t doubted one second— you hadn’t even stopped to think about what might happen to you. Helping Steve was more important to you than anything in that moment, and you didn’t regret it, how could you regret that? 

“You saved my ass first, back at the Wheeler’s,” you smile at him. “Even later, in the woods, and at Creel’s house. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you… so thank you.”

Steve stays silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. You can practically feel him grow nervous now, when he clears his throat and begins speaking. “Listen, I know we are on the brink of life and death and maybe world threatening danger, but I kinda need some motivation to get out of here.”

“Yeah?”

“So, now that you know me and Nancy aren’t really a thing, and that me and Robin are platonic with a capital P…”

“Keep going.”

“And since you know, maybe is really cool,” you nod, trying to fight off a smile. “We should, maybe, go on a date together.”

“Hm…” you place a hand on your chin. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can go out with someone who doesn’t like Pretty in Pink.”

“I’ve never said I didn’t,” he shrugs. “I just haven’t even seen it.”

“You haven’t seen Pretty in Pink, you monster?!”

“You know, I’m actively bleeding out here,” Steve gestures at your last minute bandages, his smile almost as handsome as him, even more so after tearing off a bat monster’s head off. Even more so now that it seems you finally have a plan to get out of this goddamn place. “You’re gonna make a dying man wait?”

“You’re not dying, Harrington.” You smack him gently across the shoulders. “I won’t let you.”

Steve chuckles, his hand finding its way to yours, almost nervous, scared of rejection. 

“So? What do you say?”

“I say that if we get out of here alive, and it seems like kind of a longshot right now…” you acknowledge, holding onto his hand and squeezing. “I would really, really like that.”

“Yeah?”

You’re smiling. “Yeah.”

You both might be the people with the worst timing in the entire world— you’re cursed by a demon villain from another dimension, and Steve is bleeding out while you’re both trapped inside the Upside Down, with no clue if you’ll be able to actually escape. Not to mention this is all happening in his ex's house. And yet you can’t help but laugh when Steve tries to reach for the back of your neck and fails miserably.

“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but my abdomen still really hurts.”

“I have to do everything,” you tease, before closing the distance between you, your lips pressing against his with a sigh. 

Steve’s lips are chapped, bloody, raw, and yours must be equally as bad, salty, open and bleeding raw. But despite everything the kiss is perfect, as imperfect and uncoordinated as it is; the way your lips fit together, the way Steve cradles your cheek, and how you hold the back of his neck while Bonnie Tyler plays in the background of it all. Now, more than anything, you feel hope.

When you break off the kiss, Steve is smiling. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he says. And you just might.

[jeankluv]

The after party || Trafalgar Law x reader

Warnings: +18, nsfw, jealousy, possessive law, canon universe, cocky law, fingering (f), backshots, references to a threesome (maybe in the future), a bit of past angst

Summary: Your captain gets jealous during the Wano party and you love to see him that way.

Materialist

After winning against Big Mom and Kaido, Law felt pletoric, he wasn’t a very party person but that felt like having the night of his life. He had his second drink on his hand and was watching his crew mates having fun with the rest of alliance members, but it would be a lie if he said his eyes were only focused on one particular figure.

Your waists were moving from one side to the other, making Law go crazy and feeling his cock getting harder from each moment passing. He wanted to see those waists rolling on top of him, while his dick was deep inside of you.

He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the sake cup in his hand. He needed you right now and if you kept moving like that he wouldn’t hesitate and take you out of there in a heartbeat.

You throw your head backwards, laughing at something someone said. Your hair fell back, revealing the beautiful waves you had and your chest rose and fell from laughter and exposing a little bit more of skin, making the guy in front of you blush. Law couldn’t take it anymore and he stood from his seat and walked straight to you and that guy's place.

You were still laughing when he arrived beside you and held your wrist. Law leaned towards you and kissed you roughly, inserting his tongue into your mouth. You gasped at the sensation, it wasn't the first time you had kissed but it was done in such a possessive and aggressive way. Your legs shook and Law must have noticed because he placed his hand on your lower back to steady you.

Law pulled away from you, breaking the kiss. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch your breath again. When you opened your eyes again, you saw that the man you had been animatedly chatting with was no longer there, and that you now had Law, in front of you with a look full of lust and you could swear that he was capable of undressing you and fucking you in that moment.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing Law?” You broke free from his grip.

“What princess did I interrupt your little moment?” He responded with a cocky smile.

“Yeah you did.” You crossed your arms in front of you.

“Princess you know we…”

“We?!” You laughed sarcastically. “So now there is a we? Don’t make me laugh, Law.”

“C’mon princess.” He said brushing your waist, making a shiver run down your spine.

“No Law, you made everything fucking clear back when you decided to leave us, leave me in Zou saying that whatever we had was just a hobby for you. So you don’t get jealous when you see me with anyone.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger.

Law smiled, running his tongue along the inside of his mouth. You drove him crazy and he knew he was a dick for what he said to you back then, but if he didn't make you hate him, he knew you would do anything to go with him and putting you on risk was the last fucking thing he wanted. He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. Your whole body was stuck to his and you could feel how hard he was under his clothes.

“Princess… I’m not jealous.” He leaned close to your ear and whispered. “Because none of those assholes are going to be able to lay a single finger on you.” He said and bit your earlobe, making you sway.

You swallowed and looked away from his gaze. “You are a fucking dick Law. I’m sure Eustass could…”

“Don’t you dare finish that phrase, sweetheart.” He got closer to you, if that was possible.

“Didn’t you say that you weren’t jealous?” You smiled. “Does Eustass make you that nervous?” You were pushing him forward.

“That asshole could never make you feel like I do.”

“Did. We haven’t been together since what? Over a year now? I’m pretty sure Eustass could satisfy me, with those biceps and big chest.” Seeing him jealous, was driving you insane and was making you hornier.

Law tensed his jaw and scanned your face with his honey eyes. He grabbed your wrist and started walking, away from the people, the party, the noise. When you were far enough away from everyone and everything, he pushed you against what you thought was an old abandoned cabin and began to devour your lips. You gasped as you felt Law's hand make its way under your kimono, getting closer and closer to your intimate area.

“Ah…” You moaned when his index touched your clitoris.

“You like that?”

“Yes… Captain.”

“That’s my babe. You are so fucking wet and I haven’t put my fingers in you yet.” He whispered to your ear.

“That’s because… because seeing you jealous made me wet.”

“Oh… so that’s it. You like seeing your captain angry, jealous?” He said, grabbing your face.

“Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes captain.”

He smirked and captured your lips while introducing two fingers on your pussy, making you moan in his mouth. His long fingers exploring every corner of your sex.

You cried out covering your mouth with your palm. “Yes.” You let out.

“I want to hear you baby, don’t cover that pretty mouth of yours.” He said taking your palm out of your mouth. “Baby, do you have any idea how insane you make me? How fucking sexy you looked tonight? How jealous I was whenever a bastard approached you or made you laugh.”

“Oh my god” You let out, baring your teeth as Law increased the speed of his fingers. “Please Law…” You slightly opened your eyes, feeling the tears on them. “Fuck me.”

“No.” He responded with a cocky smile. “First I want you to cum on my fingers. To make you scream my name.” He said fingering you and rubbing your clit.

You slightly open your mouth enjoying Law’s fingers on you, feeling how you were getting closer and closer to your climax. He kept on working on you while kissing your neck and still holding you tightly. Your legs started to shake as you came on his fingers

“Law!” You said loudly.

“There you are sweetie.” He held your cheeks with one hand and smiled before kissing you.

“Stop being sweet and fuck me already.” You said on his lips.

“Oh I will and everyone in Wano will know how good I make you feel.”

“Mhm.” You tasted his words like honey.

He turned you around, and held your hips firmly. You could hear her pull down her pants and with a single thrust he entered you. A moan escaped from the back of your throat and with every thrust he gave, you couldn't help but moan. Law grabbed you by the neck to bring you closer to him and kiss you again while his thrusts became stronger and faster. You loved when he got jealous and then you fucked like there was no tomorrow.

“Fuck Law.” You let out. “Right there, please!”

He kept on speeding while moans also came out of his mouth, which made you hornier.

“Fuck…” He said. “I want you to come on my dick.” He grabbed your cheeks. “Do you understand, baby?” You nodded and you did as he said, you came in him with a loud moan. “That’s it baby.” He said as he came.

He pulled out of you, and you leaned against the wall as you tried to catch your breath after what had happened just now. You put on the kimono you were wearing and turned to look at him, his cheeks were red and his breathing was rapid.

“That was amazing.” You let out. “I love when you are so possessive.”

“Sure…” His cockiness was back. “But don’t you dare mention Kidd or how he could…”

“Wouldn’t you want to have a threesome with him?” You teased him with a smirk.

“Baby…” He walked towards you. “I’m the only one who can fuck you.”

“Why?” You came closer.

“Because you’re the only one for me and I’m the only one for you.” He said and left a kiss on your lips.

“Mhm…” You smiled on his lips. “I wouldn’t mind having another round during the after party.” You winked at him and started to walk away.

You felt him smile and walk next to you. “It won’t be one more round in the after party.”

[bigfatbimbo]

hi again! I have many headcanons stored inside my brain right now, so I’ve got some headcanons for Vox right now!

May not be completely canon but I’ll try my best to get Vox as canon as possible and not OOC! (I have a lot more sir pentious hcs though if you’re willing to hear..)

Also, I apologize if my English isn’t great, or if my grammar is off, orrrr.. whatever. I natively speak Armenian, so, fun fact I guess. Sometimes I struggle with English but I hope this is good enough!

Vox; NSFW

Vox 100% only shows his submissive nature around people whom he trusts most, specifically you. He, of course, retaliates and makes smartass remarks whenever he’s subbing, but that’s to be expected from a man that’s just born to be a brat.

He battles with Valentino for dominance which, to my knowledge, is canon. I feel like it definitely takes way too long for them to decide who will be the sub because neither of them want to give up the title of the dom. But when you come along, it’s obvious who the dom will be. (Well, at least to you and Vox, since he obviously gets humiliated if everyone else knows that he likes getting fucked by you.)

He wouldn’t immediately falter. He retaliates and retaliates and retaliates. But he does eventually give into your demands and becomes a good boy.

But even if he is being a good boy, I think it would be fun to play around with him and degrade him no matter how good he’s doing. Of course throw some random praises into the mix, but I just wanna degrade him so bad. (Maybe I just like being mean to fictional men all the time. Dunno.)

Call him a slut, tell him he’s pathetic, whatever you want to say. He’ll be either 1: retaliating, or 2: whimpering and not even being able to respond since he’s probably too fucked out of his mind to do so.

But if you decide to be nice with him and praise him, he’ll just end up sobbing. Don’t know why, but he will. He’ll be sobbing while calling you mommy as you’re pegging him or riding him or whatever you wish to do.

Now, onto some more juicy stuff. I feel like he cums really fast. Especially when he’s got that boycunt. One feather light touch and he is DONE FOR. Eat him out and he will be squirting almost immediately because he just loves how your tongue feels inside of him.

ALSO, he’s definitely the smug ass type to be sending you pics whenever he’s masturbating. He probably has a smug grin when he’s sending you a picture of him playing with his pussy. Or he’ll even send videos, where he’s moaning and begging for you.

To be fair, he would still do this when he has his cock, no doubt. He would be jerking himself off while fucking himself with a dildo and begging for you. But I feel like he gets 100x more needy whenever he switches his parts out for a pussy.

It’s just a weird light switch that goes off in his brain. Like, wow, he has a pussy. Now he needs you to fuck his wet cunt until he sobs. Don’t make me explain I just know it happens somehow

When he doesn’t have his cunt however, he LOVES being pegged. In my opinion he’s a pegging enthusiast. Get the strap out and he will get so damn desperate for the dildo attached to it.

He gets super whiney when you’re using pegging as a punishment for him. You can do it really fast and rough because he’s been a brat, and make it so that he probably won’t be able to walk for the next, what, 3 days? (Overexaggeration.. but still.)

OR you could do it AGONIZINGLY slow as a punishment. Go as slow as possible while fucking into him with your plastic dick while he begs for you to speed up, but you just keep going at the slowest pace you can. He needs to get put into his place.

I feel like he would immediately get horny from hugs from behind. Don’t know why, but whenever you walk up to him from behind and put your arms around his waist while you may be whispering something to him, it feels to intimate to him and he either whimpers or try to ward you off.. although not really, since he’s just being a brat. He wants you to keep holding him forever.

He probably likes rough sex most of the time. But if he’s stressed or tired, he wants super fluffy sex where you’re taking care of him and making sure to be as soothing as possible. Gently fuck into him with your strap while he holds onto your shoulders since he’s on his back. Make him feel like he’s getting fucked into the clouds but in the most fluffiest of ways. And make sure to give him the best aftercare.

About the rough sex thing, however, BE ROUGH. He doesn’t want it TOO rough, since he’s sensitive. But fuck him into absolute oblivion until he can’t even remember his own name. Instead, the only thing clouding his mind is you, you, you. Make him cum over and over again while having no plan on stopping until he’s too overstimulated to go on.

Or you can edge him until he’s obedient enough for you. Put a cock ring on his cock and make sure he cannot cum while you thrust your strap into him. He needs consequences, he needs to get karma, for being such a brat.

Onto aftercare: GIVE HIM SOOTHING AFTERCARE. Make sure to give him plenty of cuddles and kisses from underneath the fluffiest blue (it HAS TO BE SPECIFICALLY BLUE) blanket you can find. Give him snacks and watch a movie with him. If it’s messy, then of course clean up beforehand.

But if either of you are too tired for either of those things, then he’s completely fine with cuddling you to sleep while having soft dreams of you, and only you.

Had to make sure to end a bit fluffy haha

Sorry if this is bad, or if you have already said some of these things before. Perhaps we share a braincell or perhaps I just agree with a lot of the things you say. Who knows?

i’m literally so spent and borderline delirious but this is the best thing i’ve received all day oh my god. lowkey improved my mood so much.

i won’t say much because you did literally amazing work and covered all the bases, but the idea of him with a smug smile sending videos of him fingering himself… yeah. yeah i dig it.

[relaxxattack]

Piggybacking off the last anon, what is it you like about Jane so much? I find my feelings on her kind of mixed but I lean towards positive.

okay i haven’t read act six in probably like 5 years so bear with me here. *cracks knuckles*

jane is sooo so interesting and it’s really a shame people miss like everything fun about her.

pre-scratch she used her detective work to literally succeed at tearing down the crocker cooperation, to the point that HIC has to fucking abandon ship and head into another universe to have another shot at her evil empire. pre-scratch jane is also fucking hilarious! if you didnt enjoy her antics with john as nannasprite you must just have no heart

meanwhile HIC breaches a new universe, and her FIRST fucking order of business is to NEUTRALIZE JANE CROCKER because of how goddamn detrimental she was to HIC’s plans the first time around.

not ONLY does HIC pump subliminal messaging and brainwashing into nearly every aspect of jane’s life, she also tries to straight up mind control her basically whenever possible! she ALSO sends assassination attempts after jane 24/7! (people will seriously try to say that jane lived a safe normal life… as if she wasn’t almost killed by walking into her backyard.) this is because HIC is fucking scared of jane, as she very well should be!

jane is also NOT a boring weepy annoying crybaby like everyone and their mother complains about. jane is literally the most fucking supportive friend and emotion-repressing dumbass you could ever hope to meet. jane combines john’s emotional repression and jade’s intentional cheerfulness together into one of the most fucked up cases of emotional repression in the whole comic

act 6 suffers from a LOT of shitty writing choices, but it’s not jane’s fault the whole act turns into a soap opera— and she’s ALSO not the only one who acts all soap-opera-y either! literally all of the alpha kids suffer from this, people just like jane the least so they project it all onto her. despite the fact that she did her very fucking best to NEVER talk about her feelings, to the point where she ONLY started telling people about shit when she was mind-controlled or took mind altering substances to make her do so! and you can say “ohhh that’s stupid she shouldn’t repress things in the first place how dumb” but, one she’s sixteen, and two, everyone eats that shit up when it comes from like. literally any other character.

people (cough hs2 writers) act like she would actually be “pushy” with a relationship on jake— as if she wasn’t literally the one who helped him make the decision to explore dating dirk?? because she thought it was the right thing to do???

jane is incredibly thoughtful and mature and people really throw all of those traits out of the window with preference for a version of the story where she Comes Inbetween Their Fave Gay Pairing as if she wasn’t, again, the one who got them together. jane is also extremely interesting in terms of queerness; she’s got the makings of a really interesting arc, not to mention she’s the only human girl that dresses mainly masc! there’s a lot there that people just don’t care to explore.

people just have less patience for the prospit kids in general. not to mention homestuck fans love to be misogynistic and berate jane for stuff they love the men doing, or claim she’s coming between them when she’s not, etc etc. and then because no one was writing fun meta posts about her, nobody ever rereads the comic to grab little scenes or lines to expand the online discussion about her! and then because there’s no discussion about her, people assume she’s boring and don’t go looking for bits to start discussing, which cycles on and on forever until we have the ripple effects we see of that misogyny today. which mostly consists of, “oh i hate jane because she was a villain is hs2”, or, “i know hs2 isn’t canon but i still don’t care for jane because she doesn’t do anything that interests me.” (and she’s only not interesting because of the cycle i mentioned before causing NO ONE to have meta discussion about her).

idk, it’s been a while since ive read so i could be talking out my ass but that’s what i’ve got.

TL;DR: jane is fucking COOL, she just suffers from intentional fandom ignorance. and she’s also a canonically hot, fat, masc woman, so i don’t know what else you could possibly want.

[works-of-fanfiction]

The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

< Previous

Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.7k

 a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x 

(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)

“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.

“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.

“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.

“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.

Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.

“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.

“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”

“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.

Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”

“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”

Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.

Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.

“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then  – “

“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”

“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”

Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.

“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.

It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception. 

“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”

“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.

“Not even one?”

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.

He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.

“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.

Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.

“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.

“She doesn’t want – “

“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…

Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?” 

The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand. 

She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”

Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.” 

“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.” 

“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all. 

“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?” 

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably. 

Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!” 

“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.

“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table. 

“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.” 

Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.

Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.” 

“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.

“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted. 

“So quick to jump to his defence.” 

“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.” 

“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience. 

“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her. 

He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “ 

“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.” 

“You wouldn’t lose - “ 

“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “ 

“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.” 

She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.” 

“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.” 

“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “

“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.

Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.

“Please…”

“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.

Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”

He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”

“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.

Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.

Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.

“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.

How could you? 

Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head? 

He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed. 

The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears? 

“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?” 

“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.

“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?” 

“How do you feel?” 

This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.

“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?” 

“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.” 

Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!” 

They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.

Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning? 

Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade. 

“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes. 

“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”

“What do you suggest?” 

Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?” 

“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.

“OK, OK! Bad idea!” 

He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.

“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand. 

“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”

As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower. 

“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back. 

“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head. 

“Almost…” 

He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his. 

Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt. 

Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks. 

“We can stop if you want.” 

“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.

Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “

“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry…”

“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”

“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”

“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”

“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “

“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”

She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…

Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.

“Cill?”

“Mhm?”

“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”

“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”

“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.

“What do you – Oh, right. That.”

She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “

“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”

“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “

“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”

“I love you.”

He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.

“Cheesy, but I liked it.”

Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right.  He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”

[darylsdelts]

Hi😊 I was wondering if you could write the A - Z NSFW head canons for Daryl when you feel like it? I really love how you write him!

Tysm for this anon! This is fun!

Please keep in mind that sometimes I’m in the mood for subby Daryl and sometimes the opposite so my own opinions constantly change so, aside from this… yes Daryl is also daddy.

Aftercare - in the beginning, Daryl definitely doesn’t know what to do with himself after being intimate with you. The first few times, he pulls away after without saying anything and would either head out or just make some space between you. After he realises you actually want him there and understands what he should do then he definitely holds you close to his chest, a kiss on the top of your head, tells you he enjoyed it and he loves you.

Body - favourite body part… Daryl’s a boob man. He don’t give a shit, big or small but he loves em. (Norman is the biggest fucking boob man so so is Daryl, ok?) he also loves your eyes because he finds comfort in them, being able to hold eye contact is a big thing for Daryl. That being said, he basically get separation anxiety if he hasn’t been able to play with your pussy for a while😭 (not really but you’re his first time for everything so he just can’t get enough)

Cum - hear me out, Daryl used to get scared to cum. Like it took a while for him to get used to it. He’d enjoy show good it all felt but as soon as he would get too close he’d ask you to stop, he didn’t know why but he’d get all panicky. Until one day you very gently told him you were gonna make him cum and you guided him through it. It’s not like he hadn’t jerked off before, he didn’t even understand the anxiety himself. But the first time you did make him cum, there was quite a lot and he got real shy but he enjoyed it and since then he’s a fiend for when you just use your hand. He’s not really into cumming on your face but he likes the tummy. Even though he knows he can’t, sometimes he’ll still beg to cum inside you.

Dirty secret - he secretly likes the thought of you forcing him to watch yourself get off on your own fingers, tormenting him and not letting him touch you or himself. You’d have him practically rutting into thin air as he watched your fingers work hard, wishing it was his cock.

Experience - Daryl had no experience before you, he was a virgin. He didn’t outright say that but you caught on and you eventually asked him about it, which to your surprise he didn’t get defensive about, he was more ashamed than anything. But good Lord, he used his fingers liked he’d been in training his whole life, sure he was inexperienced but it didn’t show. The only telltale sign was his premature ejaculation the first time you two messed about and also how he humps his hips against the mattress when he eats you out.

Freaky - He’s not freaky lmfao. He’s pretty vanilla, with a submissive streak. The most dominant he gets is calling you a good girl and making you suck his fingers. Other than that he’s gentle and tends to slip into a sort of submissive role.

Goofy - Daryl’s too focused to be goofy. Nothing to laugh about if his girl ain’t cumming yet. But he’s not boring, obviously, just usually too caught up in pleasure. Unlessssss… you’re overstimulating him, something he loves, then he might get a little giggly accidentally but only because he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you’re attacking his sensitive head.

Hair - Daryl’s hair is sparse on his chest and torso but his happy trail gets a little darker, not black though, I would say probably a medium brown colour, let’s remember he’s a blonde baby at heart. He’s got a little bit of bush going on but he trims it now and then. As for you, he couldn’t care less, he’s still gonna eat his meal 😋! If you do get the chance to shave, he’d most likely be surprised. “What’s this? Ya been shavin’? Hope ya ain’t done it fer me”. He wouldn’t want you to think you have to shave for him to find you attractive, to be honest it kinda throws him off when you’re hairless.

Intimacy - he’s a needy fucker for a cuddle. He don’t look like it but he might as well be the damn cuddle monster when it comes to you. In private of course. In public he’d just squeeze your hand and maybe kiss your forehead if no one’s looking but PDA makes him uncomfortable. That’s why he’s so touchy and clingy at home.

Jerking off - not much time for Daryl to touch himself, also, he’s with you so he might aswell just ask you to do it. However, if for any reason you’re apart, he might get a little pent up, start daydreaming about things you say to him and how you say it “such a good boy, Daryl” he’d practically fuck his hand, being so desperate for release that he’d cum way too fast. He also likes to cup his balls when he cums.

kinks - secret mommy kink secret mommy kink secret mommy kink. He didn’t know he had one but he did know that he tends to gravitate to nurturing women who make him feel comforted but he’s never found any sexual desire there until he met you. So attentive and so nurturing, you always knew what he needed… it just slipped out one time, you were straddling him whilst he was still clothed. You’d teased him all day and he was a mess, rutting against your core through his jeans, begging to be touched. He couldn’t help it when he had an accidental orgasm in his pants and moaned out “m-mommyyyy”. And boy did you hold him to that.

Location - Home. Daryl don’t take no risks! Except for when he lets you tease him under the table at meetings.

Motivation (turn ons) - you, especially if you’ve been fighting, he loves watching his girl fight. Your kindness turns him on as-well, unless someone takes advantage of it, then he’s out to kill.

No (turn offs) - roughness, he’s not into being rough with you or you being tough with him. His life’s been rough enough.

Oral - he gets whimpery when you suck his dick, he bucks his hips and whines and he fucking loves it. Almost as much as he loves to eat you out. He’d lay on his stomach, eating you out whilst simultaneously rubbing his cock against the mattress, leaving a puddle of precum.

Pace - usually a slow to medium pace, he likes making love to you but if he’s stressed or had a rough day, he’s gonna go fast. That’s the only time he’ll be overly dominant. Basically just using your body.

Quickie - as much as he thinks about it, Daryl’s not pushing you up against a tree mid-hunt. It’s dangerous and not exactly comfortable for you. The closest thing he’s gotten to a quickie is one time you teased his cock through his jeans during a group dinner and he was so close to cumming he basically dragged you to the bathroom and had you suck him off.

Stamina - less than he had in the beginning 😭 he’s 55 now, he’s still got impeccable stamina and could go for round two but not as quickly as he could at 40.

Toys - one day, you came home from a scavenge with a vibe, he was a little annoyed, saying you could’ve got more important things but you assured him that this was all you found. He assumed it was for your use only but… you held it to his frenulum and suddenly he was glad it was all you could find. You told him that if you found a dildo you could use that on him too but he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not, maybe he’d let you use your fingers before any of that… maybe.

Unfair - after all of this submissive Daryl talk, he does like seeing you flustered, he likes to tease just as much as you do, he makes it like a little competition.

Volume - he’s quiet, small grunts and whimpers unless the vibe is involved then you gotta stuff your panties in his mouth.

Wild card (random hc) - likes when you worship his body, makes him less insecure (which he very much is but shouldn’t be)

X-ray - 7 inches and thick! Tip is a pinky red and he’s uncut. His balls are heavy asf but pretty tight. 4 inches when soft and when he’s hard it stands to attention with no curve.

Yearning - tried to play it cool… still tries to play it cool but is obsessed with you.

Zzz - as soon as you’re snuggled up, he’s gone. Fucking finally, he never slept well before you.

God this took fucking ages.

[weebsinstash]

Hello! I don’t know if you do this but I was wondering what your thoughts were for a Yandere Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel? I’m having trouble writing a good representation of him and would like some advice.

Honestly I'm gonna humble myself and say that it took reading someone else's post to make me like, REALLY notice the nuances of Lucifer's character

This post right here literally made me rewatch his scenes and go "oh wow he IS like DANGEROUSLY DEPRESSED"

He doesn't remember Charlie told him where she is, or what she's doing, and he can barely follow a conversation despite clearly trying to pay attention. He also just seems kind of scattered, and um, HE LITERALLY MAKES A JOKE ABOUT DYING FROM FALLING OFF THE HOTEL BALCONY like dude is making jokes about death in front of his fucking daughter, like my dudes, I think this guy is BARELY holding himself together

He clearly loves loves LOVES Charlie but he doesn't really know how to properly articulate himself and I have a feeling there's a lot he's concealing from her, and another big question is, is his depression from being cast out of Heaven, or from something to do with his missing wife, or a combination of both? Either way this man is clearly dealing with like, really bad issues. And Charlie also mentioned he wasn't around a whole lot when she was younger, so... did he have depression back then too?

So, that all said, I feel like a yandere Lucifer would almost be, potentially invigorated by his darling? Given a new lease on life? He may not be 100% his old self again but, you get him to like, 65, maybe 70% on a good day. You give him another reason to get out of bed in the morning, or afternoon, or evening or, whenever he can drag his depressed ass out of bed

Given what we currently know, I feel like a romantic yandere Lucifer would pretend to only be platonic and do his best to poorly conceal his feelings because of his whole... "can't ask his missing wife if it's ok for you to be their third" ordeal, the man still wears his wedding ring, and a platonic yandere Lucifer basically adopts you like another kid, because uh, I mean for one he apparently canonically missed a lot of Charlie's childhood, and he's also an ancient fallen angel, so he's got that age advantage on you no matter how old you are. I mean what are a few decades when he's literally thousands upon thousands upon thousands--you get the idea

Yandere Lucifer would want to stay close to you, helping watch over you, maaaaaybe being overly paranoid about you randomly disappearing and going missing For Very Obvious Reasons, and in the process he winds up being unintentionally overbearing. I mean, he did it in irritation, but he basically showed up at Charlie's hotel immediately saying it was a dump and all of HER FRIENDS were 'a bunch of losers'. He never completely pulls his punches when there's something he's displeased with, even if it has something to do with someone he loves, so his darling would get much of the same treatment. "Ohhhhh, you uh, you wanted to move across the city? That's, um, definitely a fun idea! BuuuuuUuuut, what IF, instead of doing that--", like, he tries to playfully tug you in 'the right direction' until you make him put his foot down

Hmmm... what would him losing his cool look like... well, we've already seen that he doesn't mind throwing hands and WILL KILL, but will stop if he's asked to or there's a good reason. With you, though, you're not typically going to be there to stop him from offing any rivals or bad influences, so I imagine he'd be kinda casual about it, actually! He already thinks pretty lowly of Sinners, so say he finds out you've been ditching him and Charlie to go out drinking with strangers, making new friends, maybe having a few one night stands? Yeah, some of those people definitely aren't calling you back, and Lucifer doesn't really see a problem with it. These people are kind of the worst and really don't deserve you, anyways! If anything he's helping clean up Hell for you and his daughter and keeping you safe :)

Losing his cool with YOU... I think would involve him using his powers to finally confine you, maybe even going demon mode to intimidate you into submission in a very dad-esque "now you listen HERE" kind of way. We don't really know the scope and scale of his powers but I can picture him at least being, obviously much stronger than he looks, and transforming to fly you "back home" where he puts you in your room where no one can reach you without his explicit permission (and you also can't leave~)

One second you're just drunk and jokingly defying him, teasing him, maybe even picking him up and swinging him around because you're bigger than him, to you he's just a silly little guy! Meanwhile this Grown Ass Man Who Is Also The Actual Devil is getting more than just a little frustrated you basically view him as a wacky little cartoon more than a grown man, one who has had sex and has had two wives and sired a child. You're just teasing him and stumbling around drunk when he's trying to get you to your hotel room to get to bed to sleep, like you're clearly not taking him seriously, maybe even playfully putting your hands on him (TOTALLY not riling him up in 'fun' ways) and he finally just huffs and snaps his fingers and, you're suddenly magic'd to bed! You're laying there blinking confused and he's tucking you in and chuckling that "you're such a handful!" before leaving you to sleep and somehow INSTANTLY knowing when you're up.

You ARE in his house, after all...

Not to be gross but uh..... I'm not saying "yandere Lucifer who has the power to still get a Sinner pregnant if he wanted to and you wind up fooling around with him and you're waking up with his little apple symbol on your lower tummy as one of those like hentai womb tattoos to show you're pregnant" but uhhhhhhhhhhyeah that's what I'm saying, and whether it was accidentally or intentionally, he's keeping it, and thus, keeping YOU

I just feel like he'd be very goofy and awkward and bad at hiding his feelings and being very clearly overprotective and jealous in ways everyone else but you manages to pick up on (god Alastor would have some MATERIAL) and, in a romantic/sexual setting he eventually just loses his patience with you not seeing him as a man and just gets... progressively more forward. You pop back into the Hotel after a night out and Lucifer's already hammered at the bar with Husk, stumbling up to you, hanging off of you, slurring and embarrassing himself, "You'reeeee SO pretty... like SO pretty.... do you wanna have *BELCH* you wanna fuck? Cause I LOVE to fuck, like when I FUCKED my wife to make my DAUGHTER, my wife and daughter that I have, 'cuz im a DAD, 'cuz I'm a MAN!" and you're just giggling and ruffling his hair, "You're so weird, dude ^^" and walking away while Lucifer internally screams, wondering just how DIRECT with you he's going to have to be

meanwhile Charlie is totally cool with all of this and sees this as a weird double whammy of Curing Dad's Depression + new family member and friend hurray! and she's totally actively either shipping you with her dad or aiding and abetting him in his weird attempts to absorb you into the Morningstar family

[noiryinn]

study sessions

pairing(s): oblivious!itoshi sae x flirty!male reader

summary: you are giving one too many hints that you like sae, but he gets none of them and assumes you two are a bit too close for friends. you decide to take matters into your own hands and be his secret admirer

warnings: none!

word count: 4.5k

a/n: thanks for the support on my last post i love you guys!! it’s like one of my biggest headcanons that sae is oblivious to things such as romance cuz the only thing he canonically knows abt is football 😭. i had no idea what to write for the notes so...yeah. also, i didn't intend for it to be so long, i just kept writing. anyways enjoy this mess of a fic! <3 (not proof read)

you sat in class, leaning on your right hand, thinking and a bit annoyed. how hasn’t sae taken the hint? you don’t just flirt with your friends, dammit! you probably couldn’t even ask him out cause he’d just assume you were joking. you don’t ask friends out as a joke either do you? friends…that word left a bad taste in your mouth. you were so blatantly obvious, but he couldn’t take the hint? you started thinking of plans that might work. then you settled on one. be sae's secret admirer, then reveal who you are! the more you thought about it, the more the plan seemed like a good idea. it was around a week from his birthday too, maybe that'd be your gift to him, a new boyfriend. you grinned in excitement, this was gonna be fun!

after you got home, you decided to write him a note and put it in his locker. you changed your handwriting while you were writing the note, not wanting him to discover who it was immediately. it was pretty simple, but kinda (very) directed at his obliviousness, but it was nothing out of his comfort zone. the note read "i think you're pretty cute, but you can't take a hint. maybe start paying attention to how others act around you!". you wondered if your plan would work, but only time will tell.

the next day you arrived early and put the note in his locker. you hoped that he wouldn’t throw it out like the other love letters and confessions he got. your prayers were answered though, as during lunch, when you were sitting at your guys’ desks, he said something. “i got a note in my locker today,” he said bluntly. “yeah?” you grinned, “and you didn’t throw it out?” you silently celebrated. “no, something about it was different.” he gave you the note and crossed his arms before leaning them on the table. “what did she mean by ‘start paying attention to how others act around you’?” his eyebrows furrowed in curiousity. “she, huh? you think it’s a girl?” you looked in his eyes. “are you implying it’s not?” sae raised an eyebrow. “just saying, ya never know” you smiled.

you stared at the note a bit longer. “kinda funny how they say you’re cute but then say you’re oblivious,” you chuckled, “can’t blame ‘em” you flirted, but the tone was quite subtle. “what’s that supposed to mean?” sae looked at you curiously, “don’t worry ‘bout it” you waved off. “seriously—nevermind. you’re impossible anyway” he sighed in defeat. you grinned at him, “yeah, i know.”

you looked over at the note again, “honestly, i think it’s a sign to think about anything other than football.” you remarked as you toyed with the edge of the note, your fingers tracing the words as you tried to gauge sae's reaction. “football is not the only thing i think about. it's important to me, though.” sae said, his tone a bit offended. “you literally don’t pay attention in class because you’re thinking about it.” you stared at him with an eyebrow raised, “that’s why we go on like study dates all the time.” you put the word ‘date’ on purpose, wondering how he’d react. “i guess you’re right.” he said indifferently. no reaction... “hey, we gotta test tomorrow, right? let’s go to my place and study for it!” you suggested, “but we have to practice for our upcoming practice match after midterms…” he protested, both of you were on the school’s team and often practiced together. “well you won’t play if you don’t keep up your grades!” you protested right back. “…fine. i’ll go over to your house.”

after the school day was over, you waited at the gates for sae so you two could walk home. he was late, which made you annoyed. so you decided to text him. his contact name read ‘sae ❤️’ which he never commented on, for some odd reason. you texted him “where r u?? i’ve been waiting for like 10 minutes”. after 1 or 2 minutes he responded with “sorry, some girl confessed to me. i think she was the one who left me the note.” oh how wrong he was…

sae finally met up with you and he was as stoic as ever. “well well well, look who showed up,” you got up from the wall you leaned on, “betcha you rejected that girl without hesitation as usual, didn’t you?” you smirked, seeing how she was clearly upset and tearing up. you hoped that wouldn’t be you… “i wouldn’t say without hesitation…” sae shoved his hands in his pockets. “yeah right! you totally did, she’s crying cuz of ya, playboy!” you snickered a bit, “it’s not funny, l/n. and don’t call me ‘playboy’” he looked at you coldly. “you’re such a buzzkill, it was a joke anyways, handsome.” you teased with a coy smirk before putting an arm around his shoulder. “ugh, don’t call me that either, what’s even the point of calling me that?” he replied with a grimace. “ah, just saying cause you are, and all the girls seem to think so too.” you smirked. “don’t joke around like that.” he said, a face of disdain became more evident. “see? a total buzzkill…”

you opened the door to your house before turning and speaking to him, “so, you wanna tell me what happened with that girl?” your curiosity was out of this roof. “she confessed to me like any other girl. but i think she was the one, cause she handed me a letter and the handwriting was pretty similar.” sae mentioned. “that so? and what if it doesn’t stop?” you asked, already knowing the answer. “try to find out who it is, i guess”

the two of you went up to your room. it wasn’t messy but it wasn’t clean either. you grabbed an extra chair, put it at your desk and you two started studying together. you regularly had the urge to stare at him for long moments of time, and “accidentally” brush your fingers on his when grabbing a pen. sae's gaze flickered to the folded paper on your desk, a curious expression crossed his face, “hey, what’s that?” you looked at the note, it was the second letter, but you couldn’t ouright tell him that, “uh, it’s a grocery list my mom gave me for tomorrow, cause she won’t be here.” and he took it, like that. “oh, okay.” then shrugged it off…

“hey, can you help me with this question?” sae asked, you already knew all the material, since you actually payed attention in class. “sure,” and you leaned over, a bit too close (on purpose), and started helping him with the question. “you get it now?” you asked, after some frustration. “yeah, thanks. you’re actually kinda smart.” he remarked backhandedly, “hey! what’s that supposed to mean? i’m very smart thank you very much! i wouldn’t even be in this situation if you actually paid attention in class. stop focusing on football so much!” you hit him on the head lightly, but in a playful manner. he tried to hit you back, but you dodged, right before your chair tipped backwards and you fell. “guess you could say i fell for you— ow!” then your head got hit, not as lightly by sae. “don’t say stuff like that.”

you faked a sulk for the rest of the time he was there, maybe he’d feel bad for you and kiss you or something. “you gonna keep pouting?” he asked, “yeah. maybe you should leave, you’re ruining my vibe with all this negativity!” you didn’t really mean that, but of course he thought that. sae really didn’t get social cues. “wait! i didn’t actually mean that—” then he shut the door. now you were actually sulking. stupid sae…didn’t even give you a kiss either.

it was day 2 of your plan, you bought a cute little seagull plush keychain and wrote a note to go with it. it read “hey, handsome! just wanna say, you’re a bit dense for not even getting one clue. but keep it up! i believe in ya!” maybe he’d get that ‘handsome’ was something that you’d often say to him…yeah probably not. it was a stretch. you did the same thing, go to school a bit early, put the things and his locker and pretend nothing happened. a part of you wanted this to continue, but the other didn't. there was an urge to tell him you liked him and get it over with. but where was the fun in that?

as you sat in class, you finished your test, which was fairly easy. but you seemed to zone out after that, your mind occupied on how to get sae to realize that it was you. the thought got you frustrated, but pumped out as you wondered what sae's reaction would be to your note. after class, there was a few minutes before the next teacher came in. "hey." sae said as he sat next to you, "soo...what'd ya think?" nudging him playfully with your elbow, his expression nonchalant as ever. "about...?" he asked, "about the test, silly! you think you passed?" he had to be fairly confident, i mean you helped him out. "uh, sure. it was kinda easy." he dismissed it, as always. "it's totally cause i helped you out, right? right?" you teased, "...right, whatever you say."

something seemed to be on sae's mind. maybe it was about the notes. your suspicions were confirmed when he said something, "i got another note today," he mentioned, his expression puzzled. you couldn't contain your excitement as you took the note from him and examined it before giving it back, "wow, another one huh?" you remarked casually, trying to conceal your eagerness. "what's it say?" you asked, your breath hitching in your throat. sae shrugged, clearly confused by the note's contents. "it's just… encouraging me to pay more attention to things," he replied, his brow furrowing in confusion. you tried to avoid yourself from smiling inwardly, knowing that your plan was working. "maybe they're trying to help you out," you suggested playfully, hoping he would catch on to your subtle hints.

despite your frustration, you found it impossible to not admire how clueless sae was, it was adorable, in its own irritating way. you tried to drop hints and flirtatious comments, but he seemed to brush them off without a second thought as you just "joking". but as much as you wanted to reveal the truth, there was a part of you that hesitated. what if sae didn't feel the same way? what if it ruined the friendship you had worked so hard to build? despite all this, you didn't want to give up either. you were so deep into this already.

so, for the rest of every period, your gaze remained fixed to him. thinking on how to confess to him, also admiring him. after a bit of thinking, midterms were the day after sae’s birthday, unfortunately. must suck, must suck even harder because all club activities were canceled for the rest of the week due to midterms too! but, there was a good part to it too, maybe he won’t focus so much on football. after school, before he was going to walk home, you called out his name.

“sae! wait up!” he turned around to see you jogging to him, “what?” sae snapped at you, not too rudely though, a bit annoyed he couldn’t be alone. “you wanna come over to my house to study for midterms? cmon, i know you’re not learning anything in class, as always!” you could see him be reluctant before sighing. “fine, but not today. i’m busy.” fair enough, it was fine, as long as if you got to confess to him on his birthday. “you better not be saying that so you can play football!” you turned to look at him and you saw he was avoiding your gaze. “you’re totally obsessed…” not like you could say anything. you were pretty much obsessed with football too (and him), but not as much.

the atmosphere was kinda awkward after that, so you decided to say something, “did you get another clue to who that person was?” you asked casually, trying to read his expression. “not yet,” he admitted, “but i know it’s someone closer to me. how else would they know seagulls were my favorite animal?” he wondered holding up the keychain, admiring it a bit in the light. “you gonna keep it?” you looked at the keychain as well, hoping he said yes, “yeah, it’s pretty cute. i don’t want to throw something like this away either.” you eyes naturally set on the way his lips curled up ever so slightly, the way his hair fell on his face and caught the sunlight. your face flushed as you scrambled to look away. if you didn’t realize it before, but now was when you realized how much you actually liked him.

“so, this one’s different, huh?” you tried to change the subject, “what do you mean ‘different’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. you fumbled for words, as you thought about if he caught you staring or not, “i mean, normally you throw out any gift and reject every person…what’s so different now?” you swallowed nervously, hoping your words didn't come off too blunt. "i just meant... well, you usually don't keep stuff like this. but this time, you're actually considering it," you explained, trying to sound nonchalant. sae nodded slowly, seeming to think about your observation. "yeah, I guess you're right. It's just... different," he admitted, his gaze shifting to the keychain in his hand. he beat you to saying something else before you could, “it’s like, they’re close to me, right under my fingertip and i want to know who.”

“yeah?” you smiled at him again, admiring his features once more. “hey, hypothetically, if the person was a guy, would you care?” you asked on a whim, “i guess...not really." he replied with a shrug. "why do you ask?" you shrugged nonchalantly, but secretly felt relieved. at least he wouldn't out right reject you. trying to keep your nerves at bay, you tried to justify yourself, "just curious, y'know? it's interesting to think about." sae nodded in agreement, but you could sense a hint of suspicion in his gaze. it made you wonder if he was starting to suspect something, if he was beginning to piece together the puzzle of his secret admirer.

you waved him goodbye as he walked into his house. tomorrow was the weekend, so you couldn't outright give him anything, but you'd still hint at it when he came over to your house to study. that night, you tossed and turned in bed, partly from the thought of confessing, but also how good he looked on the walk back to his house. you rolled around in bed, almost like a middle school girl in a shojo. it wasn't your best of times, but you refrain from the thought of him, and him piecing together the puzzle had you biting your bottom lip in nervousness and excitement.

when saturday came, you paced back and forth in your room, thinking of what to say and do when he came. you felt pretty damn tired, too from last night, barely got a wink of sleep. you mumbled 'don't screw this up' over and over again when you heard a knock at the door. "sae! you made it!" you said with a sigh of relief, at least he didn't ditch you to watch game footage or anything like that, "yeah, i did." you tried to go in for a hug but he quickly dismissed that.

after an hour or so of studying, you got bored so you decided to hint what you were doing for his birthday. “sae, your birthday’s coming up right? october 10th?” you tried to put in the conversation casually, “yeah, why?” he looked at you with some suspicion, "i'm just asking. but, i'm sure you'd love me for my gift" a small, yet cocky smirk crept onto your face, "don't you mean i'd love 'it'?" he expressed, some more suspicion in his tone, "oh no, i know what i meant, you're gonna love me." he sighed in defeat, he knew there was no point in pushing it further.

so, that's basically how it went for the next few days. him being stupidly oblivious, you trying to drop the hint even further. you got nowhere, on wednesday, the day before his birthday, you decided to give him a flower. not an overly big bouquet, you'd probably save that for the actual confession, instead, you opted for a single flower. it was a flower he'd seen before, and that you knew he liked. there was a vase with a single flower in your room, his eyes consistently focused on it. it was a light pink hydrangea, it was beautiful, so you understood why he stared at it often. maybe he'd understand then. you decided to take the one that was in your room, when he came over that day, maybe he'd ask why the vase was empty and get the god damn hint already,

as per usual, you went early, dropped the gift off, and went off. there wasn't any note this time, as you were kinda sick of writing them. plus, the big day was tomorrow, you'd save every pent up emotion for then. you waited for him in the courtyard, when you spotted him in the courtyard examining the flower you went up to greet him. "hey, sae! looks like you got a flower now, huh?" you wrapped an arm around his shoulder to break him out of his trance, "yeah. this is the same flower that's in your room, right?" at least he got the hint, you pretended to study it for a bit before replying, "hm, yeah, it is. funny ain't it? maybe they know you really well." you looked at sae to gauge his expression, he did a simple nod and kept his blank expression. you clenched your fists in frustration as sae brushed off your flirtatious comment, a knot forming in your stomach. whatever, he'd have another shot when he went to your house anyway.

you were right, because when he went to your room, he noticed the empty vase immediately. "the flower is missing." he pointed out, "gave it to someone real special" you looked at him as you said that, "it was a nice flower, you should've gave it to me...but i can't really complain if they're that special to you..." you were instictively drawn to the way sae's expression softened when he talked about the flower, a hint of vulnerability shining through his normally neutral face.

you stared at him in a 'are you serious?' look. well yeah, you did give it to him, and he was special, "sorry, was that rude?" sae took note of your expression, "oh no no, it's something else," you quickly went back to focusing, "let's just cram for midterms" you muttered, hoping to divert the conversation away from your failed attempt at dropping another hint. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that sae didn't seem to catch on to your subtle gestures. but you pushed those feelings aside and focused on studying for midterms.

nothing special happened, just some plain ol' cramming. but, you failed to focus on it. all your thoughts went to the day tomorrow. the thought had you feeling all sorts of emotions. sae noticed your unusual quietness and said something on the matter, "is something wrong? you're being awfully quiet." you felt yourself tense up, "just nervous for midterms...don't wanna fail...haha..." you made a pathetic excuse of a lie, he narrowed his eyes a bit, trying to examine your actions before ultimately deciding to drop it. at a desperate attempt to change the subject you decided to point something out that you noticed, "hey, the bracelets you normally wear, you don't wear them anymore," you pointed out, "oh, i lost them. hadn't gotten the chance to get new ones." you kept that in mind, you'd probably get him a new bracelet for his birthday.

you could barely sleep that night, you stayed up thinking what'd you say, do, act. everything had to be perfect, it probably wouldn't end up that way, but you tried your best. a voice popped up in your head that made you not even want to confess in the first place. it said the same things that made you reluctant before, 'what if he didn't like me back? what if i ruined our friendship?' what if this and that. but what if he actually liked you back, and everything turned out even better than you hoped? every thought was about the next day, it made your head spin. after a bit of staying up, you realized being all tired and having eye backs wasn't cute and a good look for a confession, so you forced yourself to sleep.

on the morning of sae's birthday, you woke up with a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. today was the day you would finally reveal your feelings to him. you couldn't focus on anything else, not even the midterms the next day. every thought was consumed by sae and the confession that awaited. as the day progressed, you found it increasingly difficult to contain your excitement. you kept glancing at the clock, counting down the hours until you could see sae and tell him how you felt. It felt like time was moving at a snail's pace, each minute dragging on endlessly. you went to his locker and put in the last note, 'meet me at the rooftop at 7:30'. it was short and straight to the point, no cryptic messages or hints.

you stood at the rooftop, your back leaning on the railing. your palms felt sweaty and you could hear your heartbeat get louder. your mind was full of feelings you wanted to get out. you were looking up at the sky to get your mind off of everything. the scenery was beautiful, you were lost in it until you heard the sound of the door opening, and there you saw him. the man you've liked since forever. his face was a mix of a lot of emotions, it was hard to read, to be honest.

as sae stepped onto the rooftop, the setting sun casting a warm glow around him, your heart skipped a beat. you felt the breath get sucked out of your lungs, he looked stunning, more than usual, actually. "hey, sae," you began, your voice trembling slightly with nervousness but filled with anticipation. "i'm so glad you actually came." his eyes widened in surprise, his gaze flickering between you and the breathtaking view spread out before him. "it was you?" he breathed, his voice tinged with disbelief. you chuckled nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the delicate bracelet you had carefully chosen for him.

"surprise…? if it wasn't obvious enough…" you paused, your heart pounding in your chest as you took a step closer to him. "there's something I've been wanting to tell you," you confessed, your voice soft but determined. with trembling hands, you slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth of his skin. "i really like you, sae," you whispered, your gaze locked with his. "it's been this way for a while, but I never had the chance to say anything." you reached out, presenting him with the bouquet of pale pink hydrangeas, their soft petals illuminated by the fading light. "these are for you," you said softly, a shy smile playing on your lips.

taking in a deep breath, you continued, your voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability. "i've been dropping hints since the beginning of time and i was hoping you'd catch on, but i realized i had to take matters into my own hands. i needed to tell you how i felt eventually. sae's eyes softened as he listened to your heartfelt confession, his expression shifting from surprise to something warmer, something more tender. "i…i didn't realize," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i never knew you felt this way." you took a step closer, your heart pounding in your ear with anticipation as you reached your hand out to gently cup his cheek.

"i've been waiting for this moment for so long..." you admitted, your voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the breeze, "to finally tell you how much you meant to me. so please, can i be your boyfriend?" you gazed directly into his eyes, waiting for the dreadful answer. as you waited for sae's response, the tension in the air seemed to thicken, every passing moment feeling like an eternity. sae's gaze softened as he took in your confession, his eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and something else you couldn't quite place. you held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited his answer.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, sae's lips curled into a gentle smile, a warmth spreading across his features. "know that i know how you feel, i don't want to waste anymore time." your heart skipped a beat as you felt a surge of hope and anticipation wash over you. could it be…? "sae," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the gentle hum of the wind, "what do you mean?" a soft chuckle escaped sae's lips as he took a step closer to you, his eyes sparkling with newfound clarity and determination. "i mean… i want to be more than just friends," he confessed, his voice steady and sure. "i want to be with you, too."

you felt excited and shocked and every other emotion there was out there. you uttered a single word, "really?" your heart felt like it was about to explode out of joy. sae nodded, his smile widening as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "really," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "i've been blind for so long, but now that i see… i don't want to let you go." you wanted to cry, that's what. "you're so stupid for not seeing this...i never want to let you go too..." your voice trembled, you sniffled while saying it too.

"i'm sorry. i really am." he admitted, and without another word sae closed the distance between you two. time stopped, it was as simple as that. everything went to a halt as you tried to process what happened. the kiss was sweet and simple, just as you two liked it. in that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the setting sun and the gentle rustle of the breeze, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you lost in the sweetness of the moment. you pulled away after what felt like ages.

"happy birthday sae," you said softly, your voice at a barely audible level. "you're right, i did love you for this gift. thanks for everything." he smiled, his face totally different from his usual unemotional look. "no problem and," you held your breath for the next words you were about to say, "i love you." you felt at peace, you finally said what you've always wanted to say, "i love you too."

[mysterycitrus]

Hey!! Love your art and your meta posts. I was wondering about your thoughts on something because I don't think I've ever really read about much of it in canon (might be missing something though), but do the batkids have their own Brucie Wayne-esque personas? I figure they'd be expected to act a certain way, like they've been taking in by a party loving play boy, they're gonna be a at least somewhat spoilt social butterflies right? I just can't stop thinking about the kids hitting like teenhood and having to adopt and put on that kind of act because it would be a little suspicious if nothing about Brucie rubbed off on them. Maybe they steal Bruce's cars or crash a gala, something staged just for the tabloids like that. Idk, I just find the idea of (most of) the kids not being raised anything like that and having to act up in the name of keeping their identities safe really interesting because I don't think they'd find it fun, I think it would actually gross them out to throw around money and act like brats.

lovely anon this is SUCH a fun question and i shall answer it in parts. the first is this — what is the purpose of the bruce wayne persona?

bruce created a specific public image of himself for several reasons — to deflect any suspicion that he’s batman, to justify his frequent disappearances from the public eye, and to be consistently underestimated by people he was in opposition with (gothams corrupt elite, the gcpd, etc). the popular interpretation of this is that he’s like a kardashian, but to be honest id say he’s a lot more like a donatella versace— relatively reclusive but who occasionally pops up doing the weirdest shit ever. he posts on dick’s insta like bruce WAYNE ❤️

wrt his kids, no, i don’t think many of them have that sort of glamorised persona. part of it is that the “gala” trope in fandom just…… doesn’t really exist in the comics? like bruce will take vicki vale to an event, or go to a luthercorp thing to gather intel, but the idea of everyone hitting up an event at the gotham four seasons is not a common story beat. and even then, again, the performance has a purpose outside of just being a distraction.

in particular, u have to consider how his kids are different from bruce. jason and dick were both lower class, if not actively below the poverty line and acting spoiled won’t win them any favours. cass straight up isn’t interested in that kind of performance. damian is honest to a fault. duke has his own family that he’s proud of. when u consider that damian and cass and duke and dick also aren’t white, u have to think about how acting like a glitzy idiot would help them in the same way it would bruce. short answer — it very much wouldnt. many people will think less of them regardless. it would be dehumanising, and because none of them have that same degree of disconnection from the standard person that bruce has, how would them being seen as spoiled idiots help them?

dick has always lived with civilian neighbours, had civilian jobs, and fostered civilian relationships. him being a cop was bad, but he takes a lot of pride in being someone who’s like… dependable. a good neighbour. jason is legally dead, but he wouldn’t have wanted to be seen as the dumb poor kid either. cass would probably play with peoples expectations of her, but not like an established persona that she has to take on. duke is, again, very attached to his family and where he grew up, and is very aware of assumptions people might make about that. damian would rather kill himself than pretend to be an idiot. tim, again, is a strong maybe, but i also don’t think he’d give a shit. he really values keeping himself as tim drake intact, away from robin. he wants to keep being himself.

i just think most of them would stay out of the public eye. remember — bruce isn’t active online. there is still massive control over released information about him, especially with babs. i think they would purposely make themselves boring and unassuming.

the short answer is that none of them, truly, possess bruce’s raw commitment to the bit.

[petitemistletoe]

Presents of Mind

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 5.2K+

A/N: Do wizards have grad school? What comes after Hogwarts? Also idk why but its canon to me that Sirius walks around naked

“Why are you moping?” Harry asked you, poking your arm lightly as he sat down on the couch next to you. 

“I’m not moping.” You sighed and set your book down. 

“You are. You’ve been moping since you got that letter last night.” 

“That was my mom,” you sighed again, turning your body fully so you were facing Harry, “she’s going to the United States for Christmas to visit my brother and his wife and their new baby. It’s just going to be too crazy with the newborn so she wants me to stay with my weird Uncle Radolophus for the holidays. I told her I’d be fine here since I have about a mountain of work to finish for my advisor but she doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why don’t you stay with me for Christmas? This will be the first Christmas with my dad since my mom started dating Snape.” Harry had a disgusted look on his face. In Harry’s final year at Hogwarts, his parents announced they were getting divorced and his mother moved out of his house a few months later. Professor Snape had become even more insufferable as he tried to win Lily’s affection and luckily for everyone, Lily had waited until after Harry had been settled at university for his first year of a graduate program to start dating Snape. Harry had practically lost his mind and spent several weeks holed up in your shared apartment and you had to draw him out with chocolate frogs and butterbeer. 

“Are you sure? Your dad won’t mind?” 

“Nah, he’s nesting big time. He’s cooking a whole giant dinner and it’s going to be just me, Sirius, and Remus.” Harry shrugged.

“It won’t be weird? Me staying in your childhood home?” You asked, thinking about seeing Harry’s childhood bedroom. 

“No, no, my dad rented a house in Cornwall. It’s a little tradition that him and his friends have. Come on! It’ll be fun. Cornwall at Christmas with my best friend. Snow on the beach!”

“Alright. I’ll come.” You nodded.  

You and Harry had been friends since first year but you had strangely never met and had barely even seen Harry’s father. Harry’s mother had been more involved in all the school things and you supposed that’s why Lily and Severus had grown close again. It wasn’t that James was absent, quite the opposite, he was almost always at Quidditch tournaments and of course took Harry to and from Kings Cross every September but you just never seemed to catch him for more than a few moments since first year. You had heard from Hermione and Ginny, however, that apparently the man was supposed to be drop dead gorgeous. 

“I’m leaving after my exam tonight. Meet you back here at seven?” Harry asked, getting up and stuffing his textbook into his bag. As Harry got ready to leave you heard a knock at your door. You got up off the couch to answer it and let Hermione and Ron in.  They were bickering, as they usually were, and settled down in yours and Harry’s apartment like it was their own. 

“Ron thinks that a vacuum cleaner is an appropriate Christmas gift for his parents.” Hermione sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee while Ron flopped down on the couch next to you.

“It is! Mum loves to clean and dad’ll love that its a muggle invention.” Ron said, grabbing a throw pillow of the couch and burying his face in it. 

“Your mother is a person beyond the face that she’s your mother. Why don’t you think of a gift that fits one of her interests?”

“She hasn’t got any interests!” Ron groaned and removed the pillow slightly to check his watch, “Harry let’s go! We got to be at the lecture hall in twenty minutes!” 

“I’m coming! God, you two are so lucky you’re done with exams.” Harry said, shaking his head at you and Hermione. 

“Oh Harry! Molly wanted me to ask if you’re coming to spend Christmas with the Weasleys?” Hermione said, finally taking her place next to you on the couch with her warm cup of coffee. 

“No. I’m spending it with Dad this year. Plus, Ginny isn’t even going to be there, she’ll still be touring with the Cannons.”

“You don’t want to come to your best friend’s Christmas because your girlfriend won’t be there? We were friends before you even noticed Ginny!” Ron said, mouth open in shock. 

“Ron, I’m spending Christmas with my father. You can bear Christmas with your own girlfriend and family.” 

“Ugh, my family,” Ron sighed, “do you want to come?” He asked you. 

“Spending it with Harry.” You shrugged. Harry rolled his eyes then looked at you on the couch. “We’re heading out! See you when we get back.”

You waved and then turned back to Hermione after you heard the door shut. 

“So I’m spending Christmas with Harry.” You said. 

“Oh my God. Have you seen Harry’s dad?” She asked excitedly. 

“You know I haven’t! When was the last time you saw him?” 

“I got tea with Professor Lupin a few weeks ago and Harry’s dad stopped by his flat to drop off his broom. The divorce is serving him well, let me tell you. He looks fantastic.” Hermione grinned. 

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you this excited about Ron,” you joked gently. 

“Ron and I have been together for almost five years now,” Hermione said with a bored shrug, “He gets to ogle Fleur and I get to ogle Harry’s dad. As long as we come back to each other there’s no problem.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “I get it. But isn’t this a little weird? That’s Harry’s dad. He’s our best friend.” 

“Talk to me after you see him.” 

You thought about Hermione’s words long after she left your apartment. You had a small bag packed and you were fiddling around waiting for Harry to come back. You practiced transfiguring different objects in your apartment into different animals. You figured you had to stop, however, when you transfigured your fireplace into a dragon and it took a few more seconds than you thought it would to transfigure it back. Your walls were a little soot covered but you were up on a chair trying to get the soot off the ceiling when Harry got back. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a surprised chuckle. 

“Uh, had a little scuffle with a dragon.” You said sheepishly. 

“Transfiguring the fireplace again?” He gave you a knowing look. 

“How was your exam?” You asked, getting off the chair and pushing it back towards the kitchen table. 

“It was alright. I’m ready to have a drink and not think about school for the next few weeks.” Harry said, setting his book bag down and grabbing his traveling bag. 

“Yeah, real smart of us to go from Hogwarts to uni to grad school without taking a breath.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your own bag, threading your free hand into Harry’s and waiting for him to apparate.

You stumbled onto a stretch of beach with a large manor that overlooked the water. 

“So this is where we’re spending Christmas? I knew you came from money but I had no idea you were this well off. Sure you’re happy with Ginny?” You said, grabbing Harry’s cheek teasingly. 

“Shove off,” Harry rolled his eyes and led you to the front door. The manor was cute, comfy, and warm. It was more chic than the Weasley home, with newer furniture and more modern decor, but it was still homey. It smelled like warm butterbeer and cinnamon and you could hear casual conversation in the sitting room. Harry walked into the sitting room and you took in the two men who were sitting in there. One of the men was familiar to you, your old defense against the dark arts professor Remus Lupin and the other man was around the same age, with longer dark hair, a chiseled jawline and cheekbones, and a smattering of tattoos that were visible on his chest through his thin shirt. That couldn’t have been Harry’s father…could it? He was beautiful. But he didn’t really look like Harry and everyone was always telling Harry that he was the spitting image of his father.

“Hello,” you said, greeting the two men.

“Ah! There’s my favorite student.” Remus said, standing up and giving you a quick, respectful hug. 

“This is my godfather, Sirius Black.” Harry introduced you to the attractive man, Sirius, who stretched out his hand to you after giving Harry a tight hug. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” He winked at you and you fought down a blush. 

“So where’s my dad at?” Harry asked, flinging himself down on the couch and holding his arm out so you could sit down next to him. You obliged, snuggling up against Harry’s warm body and looking at the two men on the opposite couch. 

“He ran out to buy a few things you for you and your friend. He wanted to make the place feel as inviting as possible and make biscuits for the both of you.” Sirius said with an eyeroll. 

“How’s he been. You know, since it all with Mum and Snape?” Harry asked. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Remus shrugged his shoulders and exhaled deeply, his fingers rubbing his temples,

���It’s been hard. Have you talked to your mum recently?”

“No. Not really. She knows how I feel about her and Snape. We’ve gotten tea a few times since but she knows that I wanted to spend Christmas with Dad.” Harry said with a head shake. You felt a little awkward, like you were intruding on a private moment between Harry and his uncles, but you didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands. 

“I have no idea what she sees in old Snivellus.” Sirius rolled his eyes and earned a slap on the chest from Remus.

“Sirius!”

“Come on, you think so too,” Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, “You hated him just as much when you were teaching as we did when we were at school.”

“Even so-” Remus started to rebut but you heard the sound of the front door shut and you were sure that James was finally home. He entered the sitting room and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was just as gorgeous as Hermione and Ginny had described. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and those glasses. He had an easy smile and was muscular the way that Quidditch players were but he also had a distinguished dusting of silver in his dark hair. He immediately bound to Harry and hugged him tightly, his bicep pressing up against your own on the couch. He then pulled away from Harry and focused his attention on you. 

“I’m sorry. Strangely, in the entire time you’ve been close friends with Harry we haven’t really made each other’s acquaintance. I’m James.” James wrapped you in a close hug. 

“Hi! It’s great to meet you,” you nodded, not exactly hating the feeling of his body on yours. 

“So, I thought we would have a little Shepard’s pie if that’s all right with you, love?” James asked Harry. It was clear that he doted on Harry and you thought it was very precious. You had seen the way that Lily had doted on Harry and while that was all well and good it was different from the way that James was doting and it was refreshing and beautiful. You smiled at the duo as you watched them. 

“Yeah, Dad, sounds great.” Harry grinned up at his father. James touched Harry’s cheek affectionately and got up to head back into the kitchen. Remus and Harry got up to help James and you were going to get up too but Sirius sat down on the couch next to you and grinned at you with that crocodile grin he was so good at. 

“So, darling, do you have any connection to the honorable House of Black?” Sirius asked you, his fingers tracing a shape on your arm. 

“No. I don’t believe I do.” You responded. Sirius grinned even wider.

“Perfect.” He said, showing off his white teeth. 

“Get off her, Padfoot!” James called from the kitchen. Sirius waved at James’ general direction and stretched his arms over your shoulders. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have daddy issues, do you?”

“Are you asking me that because you want to know if I’m into older men?”

“So are you?” Sirius leaned in closer to you so your nose was brushing against his. 

“I had a great relationship with my Dad. Right up until he died.”

“Oh,” Sirius’ smile dropped, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you said, waving him off, “That’s all to say that I definitely have some daddy issues.” 

“Silver lining, then.” Sirius said, smiling. You wouldn’t have been surprised if in the following moments, Sirius was going to close the distance between you both and kiss you on the Potter’s couch but Remus walked in and threw an oven mitt at Sirius. 

“Sirius! You whore!” Remus said, feigning anger and walking over to punch Sirius in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Get off me, you’re cramping my style.” Sirius glared at Remus.

“You know what else should cramp your style? The fact that you’ve been dating me since sixth year.” Remus rolled his eyes. 

“So I’m not allowed to live?” Sirius shot back. You were laughing as you watched the match unfold and it looked like Remus was gearing up to shoot another smart remark back but Harry walked back in and said, 

“Dad says dinner is ready and for you two to kiss and make up.” Harry stretched his hand out to help you off the couch. You all took seats at the table. 

“If you wanted to watch us make out, Prongs, you should’ve just said so.” Sirius teased. James stuck his tongue out in return. You took a moment to imagine what it would be like to have that tongue all over your body. You promptly shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. 

“So darling,” James turned to look at you and fought the urge to blush, “Harry told me your last name is Siphera. Any relation to Jack Siphera?”

“Uh yes,” you nodded, pushing around a pea on your plate, “he was my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He was an excellent dueler. A strong member of the Order, you remember him don’t you?” James asked Remus and Sirius. 

“Jack was a very kind man,” Remus smiled.

“Siphera…I didn’t know that he had passed. How did he die, if you don’t mind my asking.” Sirius asked. Remus was shaking his head but Sirius didn’t seem to notice. 

“He was murdered by Bellatrix when she tried to escape Azkaban.” You responded. 

“Bellatrix? My cousin Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange?” Sirius asked, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“Do you know very many other Bellatrixes?” Harry asked. You started laughing and so did Harry until the two of you were both doubled over and gasping for breath.

“Alright,” James said, looking at you two warily, “I bought a bottle of firewhisky for us all, raise your glasses.” James poured everyone a generous helping of firewhisky and then raised another bottle of dark liquor for shots. 

“To many holidays together.” Sirius grinned at you as you clinked glasses. You tipped your head back and took the drink, swallowing against the harsh burn in your throat. A small droplet escaped past the side of your glass and made its way down your chin and dropped between your breasts. You became acutely aware of the eyes that were on you. You rubbed your mouth harshly and took a large sip of firewhisky, averting your eyes to look at Harry. His cheeks were a bit pink from the shot and he shot you a large, easy smile. 

The drinking continued and the evening ended with you and Harry stumbling into a free bedroom and falling asleep. You and Harry had often slept in the same bed, it started when you were in second year and you had both stayed up late revising for potions. 

When you rose the next morning, your mouth was painfully dry and your head was pounding. You nudged Harry lightly and he groaned in response. 

“What?”

“I need water.” You croaked. 

“So get water.” Harry moaned, putting his head into the pillow and trying to wrap the edges of the pillow around his ears. 

“I’m too hungover,” you shook your head. 

“Fine, open your mouth I’ll use the aguamenti spell.” Harry shoved himself up on his forearms and grabbed his wand. You opened your mouth and Harry cast the spell. Unfortunately for you both, it was with much more intensity than Harry had intended and you choked on the intense stream of water that had assaulted your throat. You and Harry began to laugh as you were both drenched in water.

“I’ll go down and make some tea,” Harry said, changing his shirt. 

“I’ll meet you down there, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You stripped and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the bathroom. You let your body relax under the warm water and you thought about how Hermione and Ginny had been exactly right when it came to James. He was unbelievably gorgeous and you couldn’t stop thinking about when he hugged you, when his fingers bumped against yours as he was pouring drinks, as he brushed against you as he served dinner. It was intoxicating. There was also a detachable shower head that you grabbed and adjusted the water pressure. Once it got to a setting that was to your liking, you angled it so it was spraying a steady stream against your clit. You gasped softly at the pressure and let your head rest against the wall of the shower. You tried to imagine the old things that would get you going: the ripped quidditch players, the rugged wizards from romance novels, the occasional rockstar, but then James crossed your mind. The feeling of body against yours, how you imagined his lips felt against your neck. You imagined his cock entering you, the feeling of your body pressed against the shower wall as he pounded you from behind, his large hands on your waist, his breath hot against your neck. You came harder that you anticipated and you muffled your moans in the crook of your arm. You finished showering and changed into a fresh pair of clothes before descending the stairs. You felt your stomach churn in an unpleasant way when you smelled cooking from the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen table and accepting a cup of tea from Harry who looked just as queasy as you felt. James looked like he had fully rested after a long night of sleep. All around him potatoes were being mashed, green beans were being washed, and a turkey was being stuffed. James himself was charming a rolling pin to roll out dough for scones. 

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” James beamed at you. 

“How is it that even now in our old age, you still have never been hungover?” Sirius groaned, walking into the kitchen completely stark naked and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Sirius! Cover up. There’s a lady in the house.” James rolled his eyes. 

“What you haven’t seen this before?” Sirius thrust his hips forward a little and pointed at his dick. You laughed and shook your head. 

“Can’t say it’s my first time. Though it is my first time seeing a hickey there.” You and Harry both tilted your heads to get a better view of the large purplish bruise on the side of Sirius’ cock. 

“Moony gets teethy.” Sirius shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his coffee. Remus walked in a few moments later and rolled his eyes at Sirius, throwing a pair of boxers at Sirius’ chest. 

“Animals, the lot of you.” James shook his head. 

“Dad, did you want to go for a round on the pitch?” Harry asked, accio-ing his broom into his left hand. 

“Ah, I wish but I have to finish cooking.” James gestured to all the food around him. 

“I can cook! Go, it’s alright.” You smiled. James gave you a grateful smile and nodded,

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

“Take your time,” Remus waved him off, “I’ll stay and help too.”

“Cheers Moony!” James grinned, “Pads you coming?”

“Try and stop me.” Sirius laughed. The three boys scrambled outside and you could hear the chatter between them. You laughed to yourself and began to tend to the turkey. 

“It’s sweet isn’t it,” Remus said to you, “the bond between James and his son.”

“It reminds me of me and my father. I never realized how close Harry and his dad are. I always saw his mother at school functions.” You said. 

“Lily is an amazing mother, despite some of her most questionable actions as of late.” Remus sighed, “I do hope that her and James reconcile.”

“Oh,” you felt your heart do a flip-flop, “you think they might get back together then?”

“I certainly hope so.” Remus said with a sad smile. 

“I don’t.” A new voice said. It was James. He was sweaty and panting as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You don’t? Not even a little bit?” Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” James shrugged, “I think Lily is an amazing person but after so many years together I think we both realized that we can be better friends apart. There’s no harm in that.”

“I suppose only you and her would know.” Remus had a pensive expression on his face but he didn’t say anything further on the subject. 

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, as you helped James prepare for the Christmas Eve dinner while Remus, Sirius, and Harry decorated the tree. After dinner you drank eggnog by the fire and listened to James tell stories about Harry when he was young and all the Marauders’ adventures. Sirius and Remus stumbled off to bed, thoroughly drunk with Sirius attempting to suck a dark hickey onto Remus’ neck.

“Silencing spell Pads!” James called. 

“Cheers!” Sirius called back, the door slamming shut and the unnatural silence of the spell taking hold. 

“It’s a little tradition in our household to open one gift on Christmas Eve.” James said with a smile. He handed a small wrapped gift to you and Harry. 

“Oh, James, you didn’t have to get me anything. The invitation was enough!” You felt your face burn but you weren’t sure if it was from the egg nog or the gift. 

Harry opened his gift first. It was a necklace with a silvery sword pendant.

“It’s beautiful.” Harry said, watching the way the pendant gleamed under the light of the fire. 

“It’s functional as well.” James stood up and extended a hand to Harry as well. “Hold the necklace by the pendant and flick your wrist.” 

Harry followed his father’s instructions and after the flick of his wrist the pendant expanded to a full sized sword. 

“Whoa! Is that the sword of Gryffindor?” You asked, scrambling up and examining the sword up close.

“Yes it is. It’s been in the Potter family for generations. Flick your wrist again.” James instructed. Harry did so and the sword returned back to it’s pendant size. Harry put the sword around his neck and gave his father a tight hug.

“Open mine!” You urged Harry, handing Harry your gift as well. Harry opened it and laughed. 

“Oh my God! This is great!” Harry grinned, pulling out a jumper that Mrs. Weasley had helped you knit. It was a dark red with a little design of a figure that looked like Harry whizzing by on his broom after a golden snitch. 

“Thanks! It took a lot of yelling from Mrs. Weasley and some tears but it’s done!” You beamed. 

“This is truly amazing. You’re very talented.” James was studying the jumper in adoration. 

“I’m so glad you think so because after I did it once I was able to replicate it and make some tweaks so happy Christmas James!” You handed James an identically wrapped package. Inside was a jumper but the design was a man who looked like James that disappeared and a stag stood in his place. You had remembered the stories Harry had told you of his father’s animagi status and thought it would be sweet. James wrapped you in a tight hug and grinned at you, 

“Thank you so so much.”

Harry gave James his gift and then handed you his gift to you. It was a gorgeous porcelain tea set that was enchanted so the bottom of each tea cup had a grim at the bottom, a silly callback to yours and Harry’s shared time in Divination. James had run out for a moment and then returned with a small box for you. It was a beautiful, dainty bracelet. James helped you put it on. You were absolutely speechless. 

“Thank you so much, James. It’s absolutely lovely.” You excused yourself to the bathroom where you investigated it more. It looked like real gold. Why would James give you such an expensive and intimate gift. You saw there was a little slip of paper underneath the bracelet. You pulled it out and read:

To my one true love, my Lily

That made more sense. James had given you a gift that he had intended initially for Lily. You would give it back to him after Harry went to bed. You were about to round the corner to reenter the main room when you overheard a conversation between Harry and James. 

“-Siphera is a lovely girl. Are you and her…together?” James asked. 

“No, no,” Harry responded, “She’s my best friend in the entire world. I’m glad you got to meet her.”

“I am too.”

You took that as your cue to re-enter the room and you nestled back into your spot and wrapped your hands around your cup of eggnog. 

“Alright, I’m going to ring Ginny before bed. G’night.” Harry gave you another hug before going to bed. 

“So James, while I really appreciate the bracelet I don’t think I can keep it.” You said, handing James to bracelet back. 

“Oh, you don’t like it?” James gave you a look of alarm. 

“No, it’s not that. I just saw this note and…” You handed James the note. 

“I, um, I am so sorry. I had gotten you a box of chocolates for Christmas but then I saw your gift and I panicked. I had bought that bracelet for Lily months and months ago and I needed to give you something better. You’ve been such a light in Harry’s life and honestly in these few short days I’ve loved having you here. I want you to keep the bracelet.” James looked at you with large imploring eyes and extended the bracelet back to you. 

“Oh, thank you so much. You have to know that Harry is my best friend and he’s been amazing. Especially after everything with my father. And I can see where he gets his giving spirit. Thank you again for having me for Christmas this year.” You became aware of how close you and James were on the couch. His hand was on your knee and his breath was warm against your face. He leaned in and kissed you, his hand on the back of your neck. His lips were soft and he was gentle, warm. You pulled away and looked down at the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just…been lonely. But that isn’t an excuse.” James shook his head. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Good night.” You scrambled from the room. You reentered your room and tried to think about what had just happened. And then you thought fuck it, you deserved a little guilty pleasure now and again. And before you knew it you were knocking on James’ door, emboldened by the eggnog. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so so sorry-” James started but you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled you into the room and shut the door, pushing you up against the door and pulling your jumper over your head. He thread a hand in your hair and tilted your face up a little as he angled his tongue. His hand went down to the waistband of your jeans and fiddled with the button for a moment before sliding his hand down into your panties. 

“So wet for me,” he whispered into your mouth. You were going to give back a smart remark but James pushed two of his nimble fingers into your pussy. You gasped and gripped James shoulder harshly. His thumb found its way to your clit and he started on circular motions as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His lips made their way to your neck and he was sucking hickeys on your neck that you would curse in the morning but right now all you cared about was James keeping his pace as you approached your orgasm. It hit you like a tidal wave and you were moaning into James’ mouth and begging him for something you weren’t totally sure of. 

He moved you to the large wicker bed that sat in the center of the room. You helped him out of his shirt and unbuckled his pants. You kissed down his chest, along his happy trail, and down to his cock. You took him in your mouth and he moaned lowly, 

“Oh fuck.” He moaned, holding your hair back as you tried to take him as deep as possible. You grabbed his balls lightly and released a strangled, 

“Okay! Okay, I don’t want to cum just yet.” He pulled you off of him and flipped you over so you were beneath him. He pushed himself inside you and you both moaned. 

“You’re so big,” you moaned. 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned back. He was fucking you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. One of his hands was gripping the headboard tightly and the other was alternating between your nipple and your clit. You were approaching your second orgasm of the night and with the way it was building you knew it was going to hit you even harder than the first one. James pulled out completely and slammed back into you and that was it. You orgasm hit you hard and your orgasm triggered James’. He came inside you, babbling thank yous and oh my gods. He pulled out of you and you both laid side by side, breathing heavily and fanning yourselves. 

“We can’t ever tell Harry.” You said, the icy shock of sobriety making you realize the gravity of what you had done. You had slept with your best friend’s dad. That would kill him. James was going to respond when an owl started pecking at the window. James opened the window and untied the piece of parchment wrapped around the owl’s foot. You were able to read it over your shoulder.

James, 

I made a huge mistake. Ring me in the morning?

Happy Christmas

Lily

[fastlikealambo]

Connubium.|| Coriolanus Snow x Black Fem Reader

Chapter Five

table of contents.

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Four.

Summary: Stealing from The Capitol is a deadly offense, yet you’ve done it more times than you can count but when you do something you should not have done, Volumnia Gaul decides a fate for you that might just be worse than death.

Notes: This takes place post The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes and Coryo is in his last year at The University, studying under Dr. Gaul. This will not follow canon, I’m not an expert on all the lore so I apologize if I get things wrong.

Disclaimer: You know Coriolanus is a POS, I know Coriolanus is a POS, please don’t yell at me because this is just a fun little story, something for thee hotties, and  if you feel that strongly against President Snow, please let me know if you’d like me to sign you up for tessarae.

Warnings: violence against reader, gore, blood, injuries, bones being put back in place.

18+ only

Thanks for the love and messages on chapter four! If you want to see chapter six, comment or reblog, feedback makes me want to continue!

As you slept, Coriolanus studied you.

Tucking a stray curl underneath the silk on your hair, he studied your face.  The stressed expression you had concerned him, he fought the urge to smooth the knitted space between your brows.

He could do this every night.

Courtships were quick affairs in The Capitol, arranged and wed within weeks, hours even, depending on the wealth of each party and what could be gained.

A wealthy orphan such as yourself worked in Coryo’s favor, no parents to impress, no dowries, just you and your ability to control a room.

Coriolanus had plans for Panem and he needed someone at his side who could stand with him, without fear.

President Ravinstill represented the victory of war, old and bloated, a reminder of the dark days.

You would be the face of his Panem, bright and beautiful.

Yes, you would do just fine.

The smell of smoke interrupted Coryo’s study and he untangled himself from you to go to the window, throwing open the curtains.

 The sun had yet to come up but a fire in a visible quarter of The Capitol raged, illuminating the sky and from the Plinth’s window he could see multiple hovercrafts carrying water to douse the flames.

    “Coryo?”

You stood next to him, watching the fiery scene and he took your hand in his, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

A knock on the door brought you both from the window and you opened it to see Mrs. Plinth, a worried expression on her face.

   “There’s been a bombing, it’s all over the news. Peacekeepers want everyone in their own homes within the hour. I’ll get you some food to take home, dears.” She said kindly.

Too quickly you were standing outside, Coryo’s suit jacket draped around your shoulders, waiting for your car.

       “ I was going to ask you to lunch with Tigris and Grandma’am but I think we’ll have to reschedule.” Coryo said.

     “You’ll just have to make it up to me, Coriolanus Snow. If waltzing and a bombing are typical society affairs, I’m eager to see what happens the next time we’re together.”

With a kiss upon your hand, Coriolanus helped you into the car, noticing it was driven by a peacekeeper.

Peacekeepers weren’t usually drivers.

  “Excuse me, if I’m going to meet Dr. Gaul, I’d like to change first.” You said, wanting very much to get out of a dress you’d been in for far too long but the peacekeeper kept driving right past your residence.

   “Where are we going?” You asked but as usual, you were ignored and the car continued past The Corso,eventually coming to a stop outside a familiar looking building.

Even in the dark, you knew where you were and a fear you hadn’t had in years greeted you like an old friend.

The Arena.

A peacekeeper opened the door and three more took hold of you, yanking you of the car. Your claims that you could walk just fine went unheard as they dragged you with purpose into the massive yet crumbling amphitheater.

Nothing could quite prepare you for the scope of it, having only seen it back home on a  tv that turned off and on during the games if you didn’t kick it three times. You couldn’t remember the last time it was used but there you were, taking in the sights while they shoved you through the turnstile.

  “Enjoy the show!” A broken down robotic voice said.

    “My little thief, right on time! Don’t you look pretty?” Dr. Gaul said, pointing to a spot for the peacekeepers to throw you down.

    “What is this, why am I here?” You asked, standing to your feet, looking around at the empty structure.

    “As you well aware, there was an attack on The Capitol this morning, a poorly constructed bomb killed two Capitol citizens. Imagine my surprise when we caught the animal behind this, I found out he’s from your district!”

    “Dr. Gaul, I’m not behind this, you have my parents, I’m already risking everything-

    “Oh no young lady, we know you weren’t behind this, we just need you to clean up a mess for the glory of Panem.”

A familiar voice and the sound of marching feet echoed throughout the arena and out of the shadows strolled President Ravinstill and his guards.

Of course, they would be working together.

  “I believe you’ve already met President Ravinstill so no need for introductions. Gentlemen, if you please!” Dr. Gaul called out and from another corner came muffled screaming.

Two peacekeepers dragged a badly beaten man in front of you, one eye swollen shut, the other widening in recognition.

District 6 was big, but you knew him,  he worked on delivery trains.

 You used to see his children chase after the hefty freighter, waving to him on his route.

  “If you’d be so kind, dear girl.” President Ravinstill said, placing a handgun into your shaking hand.

No, please, no.

   “I don’t want to do this, I don’t need to do this, you have guns, you do it.” You stuttered.

  “Just pretend he’s a morphling, that worked the last time, didn’t it?” Dr. Gaul asked. President Ravinstill walked up behind you and wrenched your hands into position, the gun on the man’s forehead but you dropped the gun, a missed shot ringing in the air.

  “I have a better idea. Let him up, gentlemen.”  Dr. Gaul said and clapped her hands. 

   “Enjoy the show!”

Peacekeepers filed into the arena, blocking off the exits and breaks in the concrete where the floor and tunnels caved in, forming a circle around the perimeter.

A peacekeeper unlocked the cuffed man and heaved him to his feet in front of Dr. Gaul who pointed a gloved hand in your direction.

 “You see her? We’ll pin all of your mess on her and you’ll get to see your family again.  All you have to do is kill her and everything is forgiven. ” Dr. Gaul whispered into his ear. 

Surely he couldn’t actually believe that?

 He took a step in Gaul’s direction and for a moment you believed the rebel in him saw through the lies and he’d take out Dr. Gaul and President together.

Was this the moment a rebellion was born?

But then you saw it, a shine in his uninjured eye, that told you this was just a man who wanted to go home.

    “Young lady, I suggest you run.” President Ravinstill instructed.

If he couldn’t catch, he couldn’t kill you.

So you ran.

Shoes off, you ran with him on your heels, climbing up a piece of debris towards what was left of the stands, dress and skin ripping as you climbed this way and that, trying to tire him out.  He stumbled but kept up the pace and you brought your bleeding hands to a corner to get further up but a warning shot made you freeze, unable to climb any higher.

That split second of indecision worked in his favor and the man grabbed your still tender ankle and brought you back down to the same level as him.

His hands were around your throat, slamming you back on the concrete before you had a chance to get back up, kicking wildly and scratching deep into his arms, the world around you starting to blur.

You weren’t a fighter, that morphling was drugged out of his mind, you couldn’t steal your way out of this.

Would they let your parents go now?

What would they tell Coriolanus?

What was the point of any of this?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a broken arrow, probably left over from the games, and as he pressed harder, anguish grunting escaping his bloody mouth, you let yourself go limp beneath him.

He would go no further.

The moment he loosened his grip ever so slightly in victory, you drove your thumb through his bad eye and as he tried everything, slammed you into everything but you wouldn’t let go until the last minute, letting him shove you into a pile of rocks, something in your shoulder popped, causing you to scream.

When he came at you one last time, you drove that arrow into his throat, watching him sink to the ground, jerking and gasping until President Ravinstill took a gun from a peacekeeper, aimed it at the man from District 6, the husband and father, one shot to make him lie still.

It wasn’t fair.

    “Well done little thief, you would have made a fantastic tribute! Allow me.” Dr. Gaul gave no warning before she popped your shoulder back into place.

     “It’s quite remarkable, all that Capitol finery, and you still reverted back to your most natural form.” President Ravinstill marveled, looking your bloody and bruised body up and down.

You were going to be sick.

   “Do you see why I chose you now? You will do anything to survive, the ugly brutal things Capitol citizens don’t like to think about except on that very special time every year, and that’s what Panem needs alongside Coriolanus. Beauty is one thing, but brutality is what keeps the mice at bay.” Dr. Gaul said and clapped her hands once more, the peacekeepers moved from the exit.

    “Go to him, little thief. Go to him and remember the only standing between becoming Mrs. Snow or ending up like your district friend here is your cooperation.” Gaul said and without another word you turned and stumbled out of the arena.

   “See you Monday, young lady!” President Ravinstill called out.

You wandered through the streets of the Capitol for hours till you found yourself in front of Coryo’s apartment and more or less crawled up the stairs.

Before you could lift your hand to knock, the door flew open and Coriolanus enveloped you in his arms, your unrehearsed sobs stifled into his chest.

“Who did this to you?” He asked voice colder than you've ever experienced, touching you all over, cataloging each and every bruise and blood stain.  At the noise, Tigris peeked her head out of her room only to come racing out fully when she saw you.

As you collapsed into their embrace, you had one thought in your head.

Dr. Gaul and President Ravinstill were very much like mice.

To get rid of mice, you would need a snake.

That’s Chapter 5! As usual if you’d like to see Chapter 6, please comment or reblog! Thank you for reading :)

[astronomodome]

It’s 3 AM and I’m stressed out so instead of doing boring things like sleeping I’m deciding whether or not I could beat each life series member in a physical fight (c! and cc!). Sorry about the violence idk why my brain thought of this. DISCLAIMER I don’t want to fight any of these people and I don’t wish any harm upon them I’m just delirious 👍 yayy

Rendog

c!: He’s just a guy with dog ears in canon so I wouldn’t be like suuuper fucked but I think I’d still lose. You know he turns up to jazzercise

cc!: Hasn’t he been through enough recently… could I win? Maybe. But I’d be a good sport about it and I’d expect him to do the same should he beat me

Grian

c!: Have you ever tried to fight a bird? Those things are scary. I got chased by a goose once and it was not fun. Yeah this ain’t happening

cc!: You know that one video of Grian demolishing that punching bag? That would be me. Do you want that for me? I don’t

Joel Smallishbeans

c!: I think I could but it would be really close and I’d have to go to the hospital immediately after. Not for fight wounds or anything I just would be worried he’d have given me rabies

cc!: I feel like I would have to fight him and Lizzie at the same time and I don’t think I could take that. Nothing can beat the power of love <3

Scott Smajor

c!: Nah I just lose and he’s judgmental about it too

cc!: LGBT infighting. I would probably lose

BigB

c!: he would win the psychic battle long before the physical battle could even begin

cc!: Man is yoked. I have died

Etho

c!: As soon as I walk up to him he teleports behind me and cuts me in half. Nothing personnel kid

cc!: Lost in the Canadian wilderness trying to track him down, I am mauled by a moose. My corpse becomes a nice meal for some wolves and I am slowly forgotten

Bdubs

c!: I could punt him with ease

cc!: I maybe could but would it really be worth it

Pearl

c!: Ripped apart by hounds so sad. I deserved it

cc!: I can’t afford to fly to Australia. Also even if I could I think she could just throw a bug at me and I would die from the 10,000 poisons that every Australian animal contains

Martyn Inthelittlewood

c!: I lied we’re not fighting I’m leading you out of the endless cycle of violence come with me

cc!: I feel like I would be overconfident going into it and then he would just deck me. Alternatively he could just recite mentally damaging lore facts at me until I fall over and die

Scar from Goodtimes

c!: He immediately engages me in a battle of wits that ends in me paying him to punch me in the face

cc!: I would concede immediately for moral reasons. Maybe we could lightsaber duel instead?

Impulse

c!: He would show up in like full netherite or something. Are these fights happening irl or in minecraft. Doesn’t matter. Either way I am gone. Reduced to ashes

cc!: That is a whole entire human being I think I’d punch him once and then apologize. It would not affect him at all. I don’t think he’d hurt me though

Tango

c!: I might have a chance but the fire hair thing might be a problem

cc!: I think it would somehow turn into a hockey match and given that I have only ice skated twice before and both times ended in me spraining my ankles real bad I don’t think my odds are looking great. He is bald though so there’s always hope

Cleo

c!: I am breakfast. She will eat me

cc!: I don’t think I’d even be able to get the fight set up I think they’d give me a fake address and leave it at that. And I would deserve it

Jimmy Solidarity

c!: We’re both rather pathetic and sad so I think in this case we would just adhere to rule of funny. Whether I win or lose depends on what’s funniest at the time

cc!: The GYM TEACHER?? No.

Skizzleman

c!: Why would I do that

cc!: :( I don’t want to do this anymore. I would lose also that is a whole ass adult man but I think he’d go easy on me so idk

Geminitay

c!: Lol. No.

cc!: I would be beaten instantly cause I’d feel bad about hurting her but honestly I don’t know why this would ever happen. We could be friends <3 sorry is that parasocial

Mumbo Jumbo

c!: I feel like he could outrun me but I could overpower him

cc!: Absolutely no chance, man could bike circles around me. I would be easily run over

Lizzie LDShadowlady

c!: Easily but I’d feel bad about it

cc!: Same as with Joel. I stand no chance against their combo attack

[xxsabitoxx]

The Pillars and their Wolf Ranking

Warning: Alpha / Beta / Omega type shit. I… yeah. No m!preg or slick tho lmfao just a causal… post hmm

A/N: this is fully meant to be a crack head canon post. The idea came to me while I was delirious at 4am… honestly I should have taken it as a bad omen but here we are. Fun fact I used to strictly write A/B/O fics for a very different fandom LMFAO 🫣

I genuinely could not take this seriously the whole mother fucking time so PAH-LEASE don’t come for me for the cringe… or maybe you like this idk I don’t judge

Tomioka Giyu

Alpha

Against his will tbh, he was hoping to be a beta

He’s more withdrawn and “timid” for lack of better words

A particular someone was enraged when Giyu turned out to be an alpha and not him

His only plus is he doesn’t have to deal with omega heats… the idea makes him a bit uncomfortable

Kocho Shinobu

Beta

She’s relieved, though she wouldn’t have minded being an alpha

Had she gotten the title of omega nobody would have ever heard from her ever again

Mama ain’t raise no bitch… cause mama didn’t raise her but anyways… she’d sooner jump off a cliff head first into a rocky ravine  before letting some alpha mate her

She can go about her life as normal

Rengoku Kyojuro

Alpha

He’s not ashamed of it, he rather likes the role

He loves to take care of people, he can command without coming off like a douche bag and people are more than happy to oblige

Plus he wants a big family so being an alpha makes it easier for him I guess

Omegas in heat do have to stay away from him though… he can’t help it… the issue being they practically throw themselves at him

Uzui Tengen

Alpha with three mated wives looking for a fourth

You’re on something if you don’t think this man is an alpha in every sense

Alpha Tengen is horny so don’t be shocked that he already has like five kids with more on the way LMFAO

That being said, Hina, Makio and Suma are obviously omegas

He’s a charmer, so along side Rengoku, people like to go to him for help and such

Kanroji Mitsuri

Alpha female

You thought I was gonna say omega, didn’t you?

Naw my girl is too damn strong (albeit emotional) to be classed as omega

Hell she was pretty shocked by it, so was everyone else. She’s so emotional they for sure thought she’d be an omega. Then again her appetite…

Luckily though the man she had her eyes on happens to be an omega

Iguro Obanai

Omega who genuinely would have offed himself if Mitsuri didn’t turn out to be an alpha

I don’t care what anyone says I totally see this man being an omega and completely and utterly embarrassed because of it

His only saving grace was Mitsuri being an alpha and tbh he finds it so unbelievably hot

While he is an omega he definitely isn’t a shrimpy little bitch and can fully handle himself

When it comes to Mitsuri though he’ll absolutely let her baby the fuck out of him and call him cute

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Omega bitch boy LMFAO

Stfu rn cause baby girl is 100% an omega and I have proof… sorta

My proof being that Gyomei said Sanemi was shy in the little “what the pillars think of each other” thingy

He’s the one that’s enraged about Giyu being an alpha, not even Obanai is that mad lmfao

Tbh it was too cliche to say he’s an alpha and honestly he just doesn’t feel like one to me

Himejima Gyomei

Beta surprisingly

He’s a gentle soul so it makes more sense that he’s a beta and not an alpha

He’s a beta that people still look towards for advice and protection

Similar to Shinobu, he’s chill with this cause he can go about living his life and not having to worry about ruts or heat lmfao

He’s not an overly horny man so…

[celaenaeiln]

something i’d love to see more of is angsty rebellious teenage dick grayson. i don’t know why i enjoy the trope but the image of dick “golden boy” grayson getting plastered with roy as he slowly sinks into depression before somewhat getting his shit together is an interesting picture

also he just seems like the guy to get impulsive piercings. dunno why

oooh yeah that fantasy's a guilty a pleasure of mine.

I am 1000000000% an enforcer of Dick was not an angry robin. And he wasn't because the comics show just how happy his demeanor was and how fun he is. But angsty teen Dick? 16/17 year old Dick?

I LOVE IT.

Again throwing a little bit of canon in

"When we started this you were open and encouraging. You were my father...but these last few years...all you've been doing is trying to control me even more."

This is so loaded.

The anger Dick feels when Bruce is trying control him, trying to lock him in a cage in the batcave because of worry, has so much ao3 potential.

Like angsty teen dick is so complicated to think about because Bruce acts a bit like an alcoholic father and Dick's compartmentalization issues come from his parents' death. So what would this result in?

I have no fcking clue.

Because Dick would totally get wasted with Roy, hazy blue eyes staring emptily into space, watching with a flushed cheeks as his short black hair fans out on the back of a beaten blue couch at Roy's place, just breaking down quietly as Roy rants and screams about life's injustices in the background, slinging an arm around Dick and jostling him.

Or maybe he and Roy would also go bar hopping, both of them sloppy drunk, laughing and crying at the same time while they max out their daddies' credit cards and then crash somewhere in someone's pool. Maybe they end up inadvertently on Katy Perry's Friday Night music video.

Or maybe Dick would be a hurricane of disaster, lashing out with knives of sharpened words stabbing the deepest, sorest spots of pain in people, his anger alighting a fire in all. He would be magnificent, ferocious, and catastrophic.

He could be any of these three and all three at once.

He would feel the need to act out if Bruce was becoming more controlling.

BUT AT THE SAME TIME, Dick raised Bruce and that perpetually sense of responsibility he's instilled into himself from a young age as well as his self-sufficiency is never erased so one night he would be blacked out from the excessive alcohol but next morning 6'o clock his body's walking up and he's going through his morning routine like a machine and out the door to work. He just keeps going like this day and day until he collapses and the titans intervene or Bruce drags him back to the manor, screaming in love and fear and Dick screams back and the cycle begins.

Nightwing (1996) Issue #135

Like canonically Dick ran away from home at 16, got a job, got caught up in a major anarchist group, and did a whole freaking investigation while Bruce sulked in the cave because Dick ran away.

There's so much angsty dick potential that could go in so many ways because he's such a complex character that all of them apply.

LOL!!! I totally think he would get impulsive piercings too. Maybe when he's drunk and pissed and then the next day he would wake up be like wtf. He'd sit in turmoil and a little regret for a while and then be like whatever because these piercing are freaking cool.

Bonus: no one (except the og titans and Alfred bc Dick never keeps anything from Alfred and the titans are family) ever find out about the piercings and it's kept a tightly guarded secret until a decade later when he does something in the batcave and one of the batkids notice and they're like, "DICK YOU HAVE A PIERCING?!" The rest of them just about break their neck whipping their head around to look at him. Dick just shrugs nonchalantly because time has tempered him and goes, "oh yeah. I guess. I forgot." Bruce passes out and wakes up on the floor to Dick hovering worriedly over him while the rest of the family watches in amusement at his predicament and also half brokenly because their golden boy big brother has piercings. Plural.

Bruce gasped out a pained breath, "Piercings?"

Dick stared at him silently, gemstone eyes holding his gaze as the quiet of the cave melted the seconds into hours. His eyes slowly slid from Bruce's to where the rest of the family was standing, watching them with bated breath for his answer, before they met Bruce's hopeful ones again.

"No." Bruce, with all the strength left in his body after recovering, raised a questioning eyebrow as Dick continued, "I don't have any piercings and never did."

"Hmn." But he swore he could've seen-

The kids erupted in protests.

"Dick, come on!" Jason hollered, pushing forward. "We clearly saw it there-"

"Where?" Dick asked, spreading his arms wide and invitingly, offering them to see for themselves.

The piercing they had all gotten the barest glimpse of was gone from where they had seen it on Dick.

"But you said you! You said, 'yeah. I guess so. I forgot.'" Stephanie put her hands on her hips, "Admit it Boy Piercing!"

"Boy Piercing?!"

"Fess up, pretty boy!"

"Steph," Dick visibly bit his lip to keep from laughing, "I was joking. You guys should've see your reactions - they were so funny!! Dick has a piercing. OMG. You people were hilarious."

Damian clicked his tongue. "Enough Richard! Did you implement metal into you skin like a heathen? Richard, how could you?! Who dare touch-"

"No Dami!" Dick quickly interfered to prevent a possible murder on his behalf, "I was just kidding, okay? Besides, did you guys even really see it? Like full on?"

Harper crossed her arms. "Close enough."

Dick quirked his eyebrow at that. "But you didn't actually see it right? You thought you saw something shining and turned to look. C'mon you guys know what it is - peripheral vision hallucinations. Things you see in your peripheral vision that aren't real because you are tired," He pinned a look at each other, emphasizing the words, "and stressed."

Dick pressed his lips together and folded his arms. "Time for bed. Now. I know you all haven't been sleeping for the past few days so you all are going to bed. At the manor." Dick finished, shooting Jason a look when he tried secretly shuffling toward his bike.

The rest of them were unmoved for a moment but quickly caved under Dick's patented "I'm mom-ing you."™ stare as Jason liked to call it.

They trudged upstairs while Bruce and Dick watched in companionable silence.

Bruce turned to look at Dick as the sounds of their bickering and footsteps faded away.

"How did you do it?"

Dick hummed distractedly and tilted his head to look down at Bruce still sitting on the floor. "Do what?"

Bruce growled, impatience, annoyance, and apprehension swimming in his voice, "Don't lie. To me. How did you hide it? Now. And for so long?"

Bruce watched tensed as the tip of Dick's tongue ran over the ridges of his top row of teeth, the first sign of anger he had seen from him in weeks. The pink flesh of his tongue barely avoiding cutting itself on the slightly too sharp canines that Dick loved to call his vampire teeth since he was little. He had even threw a veteran-dentist-scaring-tantrum in the dentist's office when the man suggested shaving them down once.

Bruce watched warily as Dick crouched down, balancing on his balls of his feet like a cat on a fence, and forcefully tamped down the sudden urge to pull out a hidden batarang when the boy grinned, eyes lighting with the wild fire of joy and madness from his robin days that still had Bruce on edge for decades.

"How did you it?" He asked again, not sure if he really wanted to know anymore but the principle remained. There was no way Dick's activities could be hidden for so long. He didn't invest in his detective following skills for something like this to escape his observation. But at the same time Dick had evaded his tracking skills when he was seventeen and ran away from him. But something so obvious as a piercing would never escape his notice. But a whole 17 year old boy also shouldn't have escaped his notice. However, Bruce had improved. He had gotten better at his job and his skills. Right? Right, of course, he was the best in the world. Dick definitely did have a piercing. But...on the off chance...what if he really had just seen a flash of light? Sweat on a body? The edge of a birdarang? Peripheral vision hallucinations? "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

You already know what I'm asking. Bruce thought, frustrated with Dick for lying. Frustrated with himself for not knowing if Dick was lying.

"Do you have piercings?" Bruce ground out.

Dick laughed, his voice echoing like choir bells in the spacious cave and bouncing off the stalactites to create a ringing, haunting melody as he leaned in closer to Bruce.

"C'mon, B! You know every showman's got his own tricks," Dick grinned brightly.

And you're the whole damn circus. Bruce hissed viciously in his mind.

Dick's eyes twinkled back at him.