#I could not get the episode of Monsters Inside Me out of my head of the dude who got trichinosis from eating bear meat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stevie-petey · 4 months ago

Text

episode three: the monster and the superhero

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.” You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?” Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?” “You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Summary: you and steve can never have a normal conversation, dustin threatens nasa, eddie sadly eats his cereal because youre mean to him, youre once again nancys biggest fan, dustin and steve have an awkward heart to heart, and you and max become felons together and trauma bond (again) !

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, trauma lol

Words: 13.5k

Before you swing in: hi hi hi !! so so so sorry for the wait. this chapter was a pain to write and i was so busy with school and work :( promise updates will become more regular soon. i was just simply in the trenches for a hot few weeks. things in the story are heatin up, so get ready gamers. anyways, enjoy !!

–

It’s quiet in Steve’s car.

Streetlights glow faintly, lighting the way home. The windows are down; the thick late spring air fills the car with the bittersweet scent of honeysuckles in bloom. In the dim of the car lies Steve’s faint outline as he drives. His hands rest against the steering wheel, his chest rises slowly as he inhales all the fear that settles inside the car.

No one speaks. The tension is suffocating you.

In the backseat resides Robin with Dustin and Max. The oldest sits in the middle, her fingers drum nervously against the head of your seat. Dustin stares out the window, he hasn’t looked at you ever since promising Eddie you’d be back for him tomorrow. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, he begged you to let him stay in the boathouse, but you wouldn’t let him.

Max stares out the other window. Her eyes are closed, she’s pretending to be asleep. You’ve come to learn what she looks like when she pretends. Her nose pinches slightly, her eyes can never stay still enough to convince you she’s asleep. It’s what she does whenever she doesn’t want to face your questions, your concerns and your fears.

Tension builds in the back of your skull, a dull throb rings within your ears. Exhaustion washes over you, fear pierces her nails into your skin. You can’t get Eddie’s terrified eyes out of your head. The way his voice trembled, the sticky blood on his fingernails from the skin he picked at.

If they’re back again, we need to know.

Vecna’s curse.

The static Eddie felt, Chrissy’s trance-like state. Her bones, the morbid angles they snapped. Barbara Holland, daughter and best friend. Bob Newby, superhero. Billy Hargrove, dearly missed son. Jim Hopper, renown chief and beloved father.

You’re the best of them, kid.

If the gate really has opened once again… Thick molasses grief coats your tongue and fills your mouth with remorse. There has been so much loss, so many funerals you’ve had to attend. Too many bodies buried without answers, without closure.

Over and over again.

“We’re here, Robin.” The gravel of Steve’s voice cuts through the endless dread. He parks the car in front of her driveway, the lights are off inside and you know that Robin is afraid of the dark.

“Need me to walk you in?” You ask her, quiet, but unyielding with all the love you have for her.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m brave, aren't I always brave?”

“The bravest,” Steve smiles at her, soft and unbroken. “Get some sleep, yeah?”

“I’ll… I’ll try.” Her facade slips, the fear that grips everyone tightens its hold. How could anyone sleep at a time like this? She shakes her head again, her smile returns, albeit forced, tired. Then she messily crawls over Dustin to exit the car, ignoring his cries of annoyance and pain when her elbow catches his ribs. “Sorry, little Henderson!”

“I don’t even let Steve call me that–”

“Too late, I’ve already decided to call you little Henderson,” Robin climbs out the car, lands with a soft thud on the pavement. She shuts the door with a glint in her eyes before poking her head through your passenger window. “Hey, uh. Y/N?” Her voice drops low, her eyes skirt to Steve, whose cool gaze meets her weary one. Robin clears her throat, you nod your head at her with slight concern. You know that she knows about your argument with Steve. He adores her, what he doesn’t confide in you, he confides in her. Knowing that Robin means well, you soften your voice. “Yeah?”

Robin hesitates, caught between her two favorite people in the entire world. Steve sees her hesitancy and sighs, turning away to provide some semblance of privacy. Relieved, Robin ducks her head down and whispers into your ear, “Talk to him.”

She’s gone before you can exhale.

Steve starts the car again after Robin has safely made it inside her home. Max and Dustin are quiet in the backseat. As Steve drives, his fingers absentmindedly play with the frayed edges of his leather bracelet. It had been a gift from you, the word constants etched into the material.

Constants. You were Steve’s constant, he was yours. Through everything you’ve been through together, all the heartbreak suffered in order to fall into one another, he’s the constant within your life.

Now you’re afraid that you’re losing him.

There’s still so much Steve doesn’t know. There are stories about your father that you still need to tell him about. Words Jonathan told you last night, the dangerous what if he brought into your life. You’re terrified of how Steve will react, he’s always been so trusting of you and Jonathan even after knowing the history you share.

And yet Steve also doesn’t know that the future you see involves him, that he’s in it with as much certainty as the sky is blue; you just don’t know how to tell him this, how to articulate the abandonment that sits heavy within your chest that prohibits you from getting what you want in the end.

You have to talk to him. Steve deserves to know everything, all he’s ever asked of you is to be honest with him.

The broken lamppost in front of Max’s trailer greets you. Steve slows the car, puts it into park. His eyes find hers in the rearview mirror. “This is you, Mayfield.”

“Thanks,” Max responds quietly. She goes to open the car door, but you turn in your seat and stop her.

“Hey, look at me.” Your tone leaves no room for arguments. She listens, her blue eyes meeting your gaze. For a moment you see Billy’s eyes reflecting within hers. It’s only for a brief second, it ends before you can even realize what’s happened. Startled, you momentarily choke on your words. “I–”

Max raises an eyebrow at you. You’ve been acting strange all night, she doesn’t understand why. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her words couldn’t be more ironic, more painful to hear. “I-I’m sorry.” Billy is dead, he’s gone. You shake your head, try to get his eyes out of your head. “Just… promise me you’ll call if anything happens, please?”

You know that Max isn’t in any danger, she’s safe at home with her mother, but across the street resides yellow caution tape and boarded up windows. Eddie’s trailer is across from Max’s, the proximity makes you uncomfortable. It’s an eerie feeling, Chrissy died here last night.

Max seems to understand your concern, and she allows herself to nod. She doesn’t want to fight you, not tonight. “I will, promise.”

Squeezing her hand, you leave Max with a soft reminder to get some sleep. She smiles, a hidden joke between the two of you. Both of you know that there will be no sleeping tonight.

Once she’s gone, it’s just you, Steve, and Dustin remaining in the car. Tension creeps slowly upon the three of you. Dustin’s never ending annoyance towards you clashes with all the unspoken words left floating between you and Steve.

Dustin coughs awkwardly. Steve’s fingers tap anxiously on the steering wheel. You keep your head down, your fingers pick at the skin between your nails. The ten minute drive from Max’s house to yours is unbearably long. Stuck at one of Hawkins’ only stop lights, Dustin can’t take the silence any longer.

“Well, this is awkward.” He says to no one in particular. “Lots of tension tonight, huh?”

Neither you nor Steve laugh, and Dustin rests his head against the seat in defeat. He understands why you and him aren’t talking, he’s still angry with you for holding a knife to Eddie’s neck. What he doesn’t understand, however, is why there seems to be so much distance between you and Steve tonight.

Normally you’d be all over one another by now. The two of you can never keep your hands off of each other. As much as Dustin hates it, he’s grown used to the way your hands are always intertwined with Steve’s. Whenever he’s in the car with you guys, your hand always rests against Steve’s arm as he drives. At red lights Steve will always turn to you, pulled in by your smile.

Except tonight Dustin doesn’t think he’s seen Steve look at you once during the drive home. Your hand rests softly at your side, balled into a small fist. There’s a coldness between the two of you, one Dustin is ashamed to admit that he hadn’t noticed before.

Then he remembers last night. He’d been too lost in his anger towards you to recognize the tears in your voice. He hadn’t even stopped to consider that you wanted a code blue for any other reason besides lecturing him. His stomach twists with guilt at his own selfish actions.

Something happened between you and Steve, and you had needed your brother last night. But he had abandoned you, denied the code blue you’d needed so desperately.

When Steve’s car pulls into your driveway, Dustin runs out as soon as the vehicle stops. He’s frantic to escape his guilt, to escape the chasm that surrounds you and Steve. Slamming the door, he shouts, “Talk to each other!” Then, as an afterthought, he adds, “Good luck, Steve!”

The slam of the door echoes into the night.

It’s just you and Steve, now.

The air stills between you, reminiscent of the night you drove him home from the Halloween party. A year has passed since then, it’s been so long since Steve’s presence made you feel anything other than peace. The strings that have always followed you constrict against your throat.

“We need to talk,” Steve says, but at the same time you say, “We need to talk about Jonathan.”

The words come tumbling out of your mouth, slipping through the grooves of your teeth before you can stop them. They’d been building within you all day, fizzling to the surface. And now they spill out into the silence of Steve’s car.

His head turns to you, the street lights illuminate the shock and confusion on his handsome face. It pinches with bewilderment, he doesn’t understand. He had been ready to apologize to you, despite still not being able to comprehend how you don’t see a future with him. Steve doesn’t want to fight with you anymore, he was ready to just forgive and forget and hold your hand without the weight of guilt behind it.

Steve had been ready to salvage your relationship, and now you want to talk about Jonathan?

“Jonathan?” Shamefully, his voice cracks. He feels like a helpless little kid again, his stomach twists with the foreboding nausea that something bad is about to happen. “Why… why do you want to talk about him?”

The raw frailty on Steve’s face almost kills you. He’s drawing into himself again, preparing for the final blow that will decimate him and everything he knows.

You take a deep breath. This won’t be easy, nothing you’ve ever had to do has been easy. But Steve deserves to know. To hide something from him feels foreign, to lie to him feels like a betrayal.

“Jonathan, he–” Your voice shakes almost as violently as your hands do. Steve is looking at you but you can’t bear to face him just yet. “He called me last night, after our… after our fight.”

“What did he say, Y/N?” Steve knows, even before you tell him, where this is going. The light in your eyes whenever you talk about Jonathan is gone. His name doesn’t grace your face with a smile. Instead, the grimace of guilt replaces it. Steve’s stomach twists into tighter knots. It’s happening again.

Inhaling, you close your eyes and try to commit to memory the before. How Steve looked at you with such adoration before tonight. How his soft hands, laced with trust, felt against your skin before tonight. His open gaze, one filled with vulnerability, stared into you before tonight.

Opening your eyes, you exhale. Nothing will ever be the same again. “Jonathan asked me if I ever wondered if… if we made a mistake. Him and I.”

“A mistake?” Steve’s jaw tightens.

“I think-I think he was asking me if I ever… thought about what could’ve happened between us. If somehow,” you swallow, the words cement in your mouth. “If-if somehow we made a mistake, choosing you and Nancy.”

Steve is quiet. The muscles in his body pull tightly together. He fills with venom, anger and jealousy and hurt; so much hurt. “And you think he’s right.”

It isn’t phrased as a question.

Immediately your body turns to his. “No! God, no,” your hands search for any expanse of his skin you can find. Steve doesn’t lean into you, he doesn’t react to your touch. Panic overwhelms you, suddenly all you can do is talk and plead and beg. “Steve, I don’t think Jonathan even knew what he was saying, okay? H-he was high, and he’s been so lonely and-and he kept saying things were easy between me and him but-but that’s not how love is supposed to work and I know he’s just scared. He’s scared and he’s never been so alone before and I think-he’s just lost, okay? He’s lost and–”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/N?” The hardness in Steve’s voice cuts into you, stings your skin. He isn’t screaming, not like he did last night, but you almost wish he were. The way his voice is leveled, cold and hard, scares you even more.

“Would you rather I didn’t?” You’re helpless against his anger, you know he has every right to be, but you don’t know how to fix this.

Steve laughs bitterly. “I’d rather you not make shitty excuses for the asshole.”

“I’m not making excuses for him, I just wanted you to understand–”

“You are!” His voice raises slightly, almost imperceptibly so, but you hear it anyways. Steve’s chest rises and falls quickly. His hands fly wildly everywhere, he doesn’t know what to do, either. Then, almost as quickly as the anger surfaced, insecurity replaces it. “Is… Jonathan why you don’t see a future with me?”

Your fingers tighten around his wrist, almost as if you’re afraid he’ll slip between your fingers any second now. “I do see a future with you–”

“Pretty fucking hard to believe when you’re wearing the goddamn necklace he got you.” The words drip with acid. They’re hissed out with a jaw clenched so tightly you’re afraid he’ll somehow hurt himself.

The words startle you, catch you off guard. Your hand slips from Steve’s wrist. He’s never once insinuated any jealousy regarding you and Jonathan. He’s always been so trusting of you two together, he’s always been kind towards him. He always knew that he could never touch what you guys have, and yet his gaze now flickers cruelly to the bee pendant that rests against your neck.

What Steve has said hurts you, deeper than he ever intended to. He knows how you love, how deeply you care for others. It’s who you are. Regardless of the hurt he may be feeling right now, it doesn’t give him the right to throw this crucial part of you back in your face.

“I’m made of pieces of everyone I’ve ever loved, Steve. You know this.” The bee pendant rests against your skin as heavily as the charm bracelet does.

And Steve does know that you’re made of pieces of everyone in your life. It’s what he loves the most about you. His eyes follow where your fingers reside, skimming the silver chain that encases your wrist. He hadn’t meant to say what he did, the words had slipped out before he could stop them.

“Y/N…” Your name is spoken as an apology, it’s all Steve can manage in his shame.

But the moment is ruined, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is go home.

You shake your head at Steve, try to hide the tears in your eyes. He sees them anyways. “Can I leave, please?”

The way you ask so delicately to escape breaks Steve. Something in his chest shatters, his mouth fills with the taste of a broken promise. You don’t need his permission, he hates that you feel that you do.

“Yeah,” his voice is softer than it’s been all night, but it’s too late. He knows this. Swallowing, all Steve can do is be gentle with you. “Yeah, of course you can leave, angel.”

Angel.

You nod at him; if you try to speak you’re afraid you’ll break before him.

No other words are spoken between you. Steve watches as you leave.

–

The next morning you sit hunched over a mug of coffee, more exhausted than ever before. You haven’t slept properly in days now. Dustin finds you with dark circles under your eyes and a pathetic bowl of cereal before you. From the dazed look in your eyes, he knows you haven’t noticed his arrival, and he awkwardly clears his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh.” He scratches the back of his neck, your eyes are slow to look up at him. Pointing to your coffee, Dustin raises his eyebrows. “Rough night, I take it?”

You nod, too tired to say anything else. The cereal goes uneaten. Dustin doesn’t think your coffee is even warm anymore, he hadn’t heard you wake up this morning. He’s worried that you never even went to bed last night. You’re pale, sickly so, and Dustin hates that he hadn’t noticed the signs sooner.

“Hey,” he pulls a chair beside you, sits down with a playful shove to your shoulder. He’s your brother, it’s his job to take care of you just as much as it’s yours to take care of him. It’s how the two of you have always been.

For Dustin’s entire life you’ve looked after him, kissing his scraped knees and warding off monsters hidden underneath his bed. When your father left, the depression your mother fell into afterwards left Dustin clinging onto you. You were all he had left.

Dustin leans against you, he used to do this when he was a little kid and could still fit between your arms. Resting his head against yours, shoulders pressed together, the angle is awkward and uncomfortable, but it’s safe. “Is it too late to have that code blue?”

It’s a peace offering, an extension of an apology, and you can’t help but smile at your brother. Hand finding his mess of curls, you ruffle his hair and laugh softly. “Yeah, guess we can have a code blue now.”

“Good, you know I always love to shit talk Steve.” Dustin says with humor. You both know he admires the boy.

“Language,” you remind him as you always do. Dustin knocks his head against yours in response and the two of you break into laughter; laughing with your brother again feels good.

In between sips of cold coffee and bites of soggy cereal, you tell Dustin about Steve. You explain the original argument a few nights ago, how he didn’t understand why you wouldn’t want him to follow you to New York.

“It’s what mom did with dad,” Dustin says, looking down at the table.

You nod at him, you knew he’d understand better than anyone. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Does he know what happened with dad?”

“No, and I know I should explain what he did, but there’s–” You cut yourself off. Dustin would kill Jonathan with his bare hands if he found out about the phone call. Even though it technically goes against the rules of a code blue, you can’t tell Dustin about Jonathan. Not yet, at least. Clearing your throat, you continue. “There’s… other things that have prevented me from explaining dad to Steve.”

Dustin narrows his eyes. “Other things?”

“Other things,” you look pointedly at him, standing your ground about not elaborating. He denied your original code blue. You’re allowed to lie this one time. “And now Steve thinks that I don’t see a future with him.”

“Well then he’s an idiot.” Your brother scoffs. Anyone with eyes can see how much you fawn over Steve. Dustin has watched you fall for him for years now. “You’re practically ready to marry the guy.”

Taking a bite of cereal, you grimace slightly. “Okay, marriage is a little much–”

“Tell that to mom, she’s already started planning the wedding.”

Of course she has. She wouldn’t be Claudia Henderson if she wasn’t already planning the names of her grandchildren from Steve.

The bite of cereal turns into cement, your heartbeat pounds against your throat. With everything going on with Steve, the hurt the two of you have brought down upon the other, you’re not even sure there will be a wedding at the rate things are going.

As the days go on, you can feel Steve slipping away from you more and more.

Dustin must sense that the subject is hurting you, so he stands from his seat and claps his hands together. “Alright, I feel like we’ve covered our bases for a code blue. Checked all the boxes, felt the feelings needed to be felt.”

“I don’t like the feelings being felt,” you mumble, shoving your bowl away. You’re still drawn into yourself, pale and frail and unlike the lively girl your brother has come to miss. He knows things have been difficult between the two of you, a strain that can’t quite be loosened.

Dustin falters, his bravado fades. He sighs again and his hand settles against your shoulder. He looks at you with sincerity, his expression softens. “Look, you and Steve will figure things out. You guys always do.”

And he truly believes this. Steve loves you with such a ferocity that rivals your love for him. Dustin can’t imagine a world in which you’re no longer with Steve, where he’s let go of you and allowed you to walk away.

Except Dustin doesn’t know how to express this to you, but you can understand him anyways. Placing your hand over his, you squeeze it. “Thanks, Dustin.”

He smiles back at you and the code blue is over. The moment lingers for only a second longer before he frowns and sits back down next to you. “Do you think Eddie will be okay?”

And there it is. Eddie fucking Munson again.

Shoving down your annoyance, you force yourself to focus on the situation from last night. As hurt as you are that Dustin wants to talk about Eddie right now, you can understand why he would. Chrissy died in front of him, he’s being accused of murder.

You’re just being childish, easily irritated from lack of sleep and the stress of it all.

“I don’t know, I mean…the cops will be looking for him.” With ease you fall back into strategizing, putting the situation above your own thoughts and feelings. Your mind spins with everything you need to do, trying to come up with whatever you can do to help. “If we have any shot of protecting him, we need to figure out what they know.”

Dustin nods, following along. “Cerebro can tap into the Hawkins PD system, we can easily get intel from there.”

“It terrifies me that Cerebro can hack into our town’s police system.”

“Be grateful I stopped there, Suzie wouldn’t let me use it to tap into NASA.”

You learn two things after using Cerebro to gather information.

One, the radio is far too powerful to reside in your fourteen year old brother’s hands. He’s able to access the PD system with incredible ease, almost as if he’s done so before. It’d be impressive if you didn’t know the horrors that went on inside the kid’s head.

Two, Eddie is well and truly fucked.

He’s the main suspect. They think he’s killed Chrissy and have every man in the force scouring Hawkins to find him. Her death was gruesome, you understand the manhunt that unfolds. Dustin, however, nearly loses his mind when he hears chief Powell instructing his men to search Eddie’s neighborhood for the teen.

“We have to go warn him,” Dustin scrambles to his feet, the chair almost toppling over in his haste. “We need to leave, now.”

There isn’t time to argue, Dustin is already ringing Steve’s number. Either he’s already forgotten about your argument with the teen, or maybe he just doesn’t care. Regardless, the thought of seeing Steve again so soon after last night makes your stomach churn. You want to stop Dustin, make up some excuse to him about why you can’t help Eddie, but you know it wouldn’t matter. Your brother would only beg you to come, your worry for him would force you to listen.

All you can do is drop your head into your hands and sigh.

–

It was your idea to stop and get Eddie food.

Steve had arrived at your house within minutes. Dustin immediately went for the passenger seat, which was more than okay with you, and Steve had mumbled a soft “hello” to the two of you. His greeting went ignored by you, still trying to find your breath around him, and Dustin, who promptly demanded that Steve pick up Robin and Max before returning to the boathouse.

Halfway to Max’s, the silence in the car was thickening rapidly, so you offhandedly suggested stopping at the local grocery store to get Eddie some food and water. You figured he would appreciate the small act of kindness, especially considering the grime news you’d be delivering to him soon. That, and it’d give you an excuse to leave Steve’s car for a few moments and steady your breathing.

The boathouse isn’t nearly as creepy in the daylight, but still you make sure your knives are in your pocket before approaching it. Robin walks beside you, helping you and Dustin carry the groceries, while Max and Steve walk silently behind.

“Think we got him enough?” Robin asks, holding up one of the grocery bags. “I mean, don’t stoners eat a lot? Munchies or whatever?”

Rolling your eyes, you undo one of the buttons on your sweater, allowing the crisp spring air to soak your body. The sun is too warm to be worrying about whatever stoners eat. “If he complains, then he can starve.”

“Cat’s got claws today,” Robin nudges you with her arm. Turning to make sure Steve is far enough away so he doesn’t overhear, she lowers her voice. “Guessing the talk didn’t go well last night?”

“Oh, it was just peachy,” you grit out through a forced smile. “But we have to focus on harboring a murder suspect right now.” Because nothing in your life can ever be simple. If you aren’t hunting monsters, you’re protecting the town. If you aren’t protecting the town, you’re fighting alternate dimensions.

Robin opens her mouth to say something, but Dustin shoulders past her and bursts through the boathouse doors, ending your conversation. “Delivery service!”

Eddie nearly has a heart attack at the abrupt entrance. He jumps out of his skin and clutches at his chest after letting out a very unmanly yelp. The reaction is almost enough to brighten your foul mood, momentarily forgetting that Steve stands behind you.

“Someone’s jumpy,” you sidestep your brother and walk over towards the table. Setting the groceries down, you begin to unload them. “We got you some food, but please don’t eat it all at once. I really don’t want to spend any more money on you.”

“Thanks…?” Eddie slowly approaches you, both relieved for the food and offended you seem so begrudged to have gotten it for him in the first place. From his few interactions with you since last night, he’s coming to learn that you’re far from the girl who showed him such selfless kindness all those years ago.

Eddie doesn’t think you even remember what you did for him. He had been at such a low point in his life, one failed exam away from dropping out of high school and disappointing his uncle, until you appeared. It’d been your sophomore year, Eddie’s failed one, and you had given him your pencil.

The action had been small, meniscal, yet it saved Eddie’s life. He hadn’t brought his own pencil for some stupid English exam. He’d been too nervous for it that he had forgotten his, and Mrs. Greer, the teacher who couldn’t have cared less whether or not Eddie died, threatened to fail him.

The threat sank deep into his bones, freezing his intestines with dread. Eddie had promised his uncle he’d try harder in school, that he’d graduate, and yet he couldn't do something as simple as bringing a pencil to an exam. Close to tears, embarrassed and overwhelmed, Eddie almost hadn’t registered your softly whispered voice.

“Here,” you tapped his shoulder. Eddie remembers turning around, surprised you were even talking to him, and he remembers the immediate relief that sagged his bones when he saw the pencil extended in offering. He had nodded curtly at you before frantically rushing to begin the exam. He’d already wasted five minutes, he couldn’t afford any more.

It would only be later that Eddie learned you willingly failed the exam because you’d given him your only pencil, just so he wouldn’t fail. In the end, he passed. It was the first exam Eddie had passed in a long, long time; his uncle had been so proud of him that he bought him his electric guitar.

Eddie never thanked you for that.

And now you stand in front of him, once again extending your arm out to him with yet another offering, but your eyes are cold. Your body is tense around Eddie’s, he doesn’t miss the wide berth you seem to always give him.

“Thanks,” he says to you again, clearing his throat uncomfortably. He accepts the box of cereal you offer him and he wills himself to smile. “I, uh. Appreciate it. I’d offer to pay you back, but…”

“You’re wanted for murder.” You finish for Eddie.

He drops his head. “Yeah, it kinda ruins a person’s life, ya know?”

“I don’t, actually. Never been accused of killing someone.”

Eddie blinks at you. He doesn’t know what to do with the disdain you display towards him. “Right.” He looks at Dustin for help, silently begging the kid to step in before you gut him with your knives.

“Okay, why don’t you crack open that box of honey combs while we all gather around for a fun story time!” Dustin sets down the remaining groceries and ushers everyone to spread around the boathouse.

“‘Storytime’?” Eddie asks him, looking around in confusion.

“Y/N and Dustin did some detective work,” Robin offers him, trying to make her voice sound as cheery as possible. “They-uh. Well they found-I mean,” she doesn’t know how to break the news to Eddie, she feels awful for the guy. Deflating, she mumbles, “They’re definitely good detectives.”

Eddie only looks more confused by this, and Dustin sits down awkwardly on a stool next to you. “So, we got, uh. Some good news and some bad news.”

You snort at your brother. Steve stands next to you, his body angled away from you so that your skin doesn’t touch. The distance is small enough to go unnoticed by anyone, yet it’s a chasm that your stomach drops into. ��That’s really how you’re gonna break it to him?”

“What are you guys breaking to me?” Eddie asks, eyes wide.

Dustin hits your leg and gets the teen’s attention. “Ignore her, look at me, alright? Now, how do you prefer it? Good or bad first?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie doesn’t even think about his answer, he responds immediately while shoving cereal into his mouth.

“The bad news is that you’re pretty fucked.” You inform him, arms crossed over your chest. There’s no easy way to lessen the blow of what you overhead from Hawkins PD. The news is bad, it’s all bad.

Dustin snaps his head towards you, “Y/N!”

“I’m not going to lie to the guy or sugarcoat things!”

“Would you just let me handle it–”

“Dustin,” Eddie hasn’t moved from his seat. His hand remains in the cereal box, his voice jagged and defeated. He’s tired. He just wants to go home. “Just say it.”

Your brother’s shoulders drop, the anger in his eyes extinguished. “We… We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

“Chief Powell thinks you killed Chrissy.” Unable to look at Eddie, your eyes trace the ground. As much as you hate him, you can’t help but feel awful for the hand he’s been dealt. No one will possibly believe he’s innocent. “He ordered all his men to track you down before word gets out that you’re the prime suspect.”

“Which leads us to the good news: your name hasn’t gone public yet.” Robin continues for you, her own expression pitying. “But if Y/N and Dustin could find out about you during breakfast, then it’s a matter of time before others do, too.”

“And once that gets out,” you shake your head, you know how cruel a small town like Hawkins can be. “There’s going to be a lot of angry people who know your name.”

Eddie clenches his jaw. You can see tears forming in his eyes; you’re not sure if they’re from frustration or fear. He inhales sharply, licks his lips in disdain. “Hunt the freak, right?”

It’s the way he says it, with so much despair and venom in his voice. The look of resignation on Eddie’s face breaks your heart. He knows his odds, he’s been tormented and abused his entire life by the people in Hawkins. You’ve heard all the stories. The exile he faced because of how he looked, who he would hang out with, the music he listened to and the drugs he smoked.

Eddie Munson, the freak. The moment the town finds out he’s wanted for murder, you’re afraid he’ll never come out of it alive.

The ice-hot contempt you feel for him begins to melt. He’s only a year or two older than you, still just a scared kid with no place to call home anymore. Despite the protests of your body, you step towards Eddie and place a hand on his shoulder. Your hand is tense, your fingers scratch on the rough material of his denim jacket, but he seems to calm at the touch.

“Hey, we’ll protect the freak, alright?” You mean what you tell him, your hand warms his skin. Whatever history you have with Eddie, good or bad, it doesn’t matter right now. He needs you, he’s lost and alone.

Eddie looks up at you, your kindness startles him slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his eyes find yours. They’re brown, almost doe-eyed, with a vulnerability within them so intense that it leaves a lump in your throat.

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Eddie.” Dustin’s voice cuts through, reminding you of where you are. Stumbling slightly, you remove your hand and walk back over to Steve, who gives you an odd, confused look. You ignore him. “We have to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

“That’s all, Dustin?” Eddie mocks, he doesn’t stand a chance and he knows it.

Dustin draws into himself, uncertain, before letting out a feeble response. You allow yourself to smile, enjoying his wallowing. You understand where Eddie is coming from. “It is a lot that we have to do in order to clear his name.”

“Okay, I know that everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before.” Robin tries to reassure him. She’s leaning against a doorframe, she’s trying her best not to let her own uncertainty show.

“We’ve been here before,” you say with slight bitterness. “You’d be surprised how many times we’ve almost died.”

Robin laughs nervously. “Well, mine was more human-flesh-based, theirs was more smoke-related. I didn’t necessarily almost die, but Y/N has some pretty sick scars on her body and Steve has been concussed more times than he’s had girlfriends–”

“Get to the point, Robin.” Steve finally speaks up, no hint of amusement in his voice. His hand rests besides yours, his fingers ache to curl against your skin. You’re wearing a soft blue sweater, tucked into your skirt, and your eyes shine against the spring cold. He doesn’t want to be here right now.

“Right. The bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.”

Unable to bear the itch in his skin to touch you, Steve brings his hand to his face and rubs at his jaw to distract himself. “Except we usually rely on this girl who has superpowers, but-uh. Those went bye-bye, so–”

“And she’s in California, hundreds of miles from here.” You add on, picking at your nails. The topic makes you uncomfortable. With California comes the reminder of Jonathan.

Robin points at you and Steve. “Both good points, so I guess you could say we’re more in the-in the…?”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max supplies, which Steve snaps his fingers in agreement and Dustin hums thoughtfully.

“There’s-uh. There’s nothing to worry about!” Your brother says unconvincingly, voice high pitched and full of lies.

Eddie stares at everyone around him, studying the collective mess that he somehow must place all his trust in. None of you can give him a straight answer about what will happen next, and as you listen to Steve and Dustin try again to make sense of what’s going on, you recognize how hopeless it all sounds.

“We may not sound like much,” you interrupt the boys, trying again to ease the hopelessness Eddie must be feeling. “But we’re kind of your only option right now–”

The distant wailing of sirens drown out your words, loud and piercing. The sound sets everyone into a panic. Robin instructs Dustin to cover Eddie with a tarp while you, Max, and Steve run towards the window. Squished together, you watch as multiple cop cars fly down the street with an ambulance following them; your breath catches.

The last time you saw this many cop cars speeding through Hawkins, they had been a dead body in the quarry. It had been Will’s body, lifeless and pale. You had watched as his body was pulled from the water, you held Lucas and Dustin as they cried.

Only this time Will is in California, far away from danger. The onslaught of cars can only mean one thing.

“I think…” Your mouth fills with syrupy dread, coating your tongue with grief. Breathing becomes difficult. You hope, more than anything, that you’re wrong. “I think someone else died.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Steve grabs his keys and instructs everyone to get into his car. He doesn't ask any questions, he doesn’t question how you know. Dustin quickly tells Eddie to stay in the boathouse while you leave.

Your eyes squeeze shut as Steve drives, your hand clutches the seat in terror. Every second that passes, your body becomes heavier and heavier from dread. Steve’s knuckles are white against the steering wheel. Robin can’t look at you, Max and Dustin don’t say a word.

The white blanket draped over a body is what you see first. A horde of police surround it, there are lights flashing everywhere. People crowd behind a barricade, necks straining to get a look at the body on the ground.

Then you see who the cops are talking to, and your heart drops.

“Nancy,” you breathe out, already opening Steve’s door before he can even park the car. Something terrible has happened. Nancy stands in front of the officers, her arms crossed against her chest as if to calm herself down. She’s never looked so weak, she needs you.

Standing outside the car, the others join you. Steve has parked as close as he can to the crime scene, no one moves. Nancy releases a shaky breath when her eyes find yours. Raising her hand, she waves at you, unsure, and you wave back. She smiles, timid but genuine, and a pit forms in your stomach.

You haven’t told Nancy about Jonathan.

Steve looks away from her, gaze turning towards you, and he’s thinking the same thing.

–

Nancy guides everyone to a park bench at the trailer park. She doesn’t say anything as you all walk, her eyes are exhausted. The police hadn’t wanted her to leave just yet, they had more questions for her, but you’d quickly spoke with the men to let her go.

Sitting around the table, a bitter cold creeps into the air. The sun is out yet winter still lingers. Nancy sits across from you with Robin and Max next to her. You’re with the boys, Steve pushes his weight against you while Dustin sits stiffly beside you.

Seeing Nancy’s sunken cheeks and glass eyes, you reach across the table and grab her hand. “What happened, Nance?”

Tears well in her eyes and for once she doesn’t wipe them away. Nancy’s hand twitches in yours, she doesn’t hold onto you like you do her. She’s grieving, you’ve come to learn all the signs of someone who has lost a friend. “It-it’s Fred.”

She explains what they’d been doing, investigating Chrissy’s death at the trailer park. Guilt laces her words, she didn’t think anything would happen to Fred. He’s always been sweet to her, his crush obvious to you but unknown to her. A shiver runs through you; Fred was smart, he was nice to you whenever you spent your days in the yearbook room.

He didn’t deserve to die. Neither did Chrissy.

“That makes two deaths in two days,” you say out loud, voicing what everyone else is thinking. Death is common in Hawkins, an inevitability of what lies underneath it, but there’s never been such gruesome deaths so close together. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” Nancy shakes her head. “I-I don’t understand, you guys already know what’s causing all of this?”

“We have a working theory, but it’s… not great.” Dustin slouches down, he isn’t sure how much he can explain to the girl with all that he still doesn’t know. “We think it’s connected to Chrissy’s death, something killed her in Eddie’s trailer. He told us she had gone into some sort of trance before her bones snapped and her eyes exploded..”

Nancy grimaces at the gory imagery and you squeeze her hand again. “I’m sorry about Fred.”

She gives you a tight smile before turning to your brother. “A trance? Like El? You aren’t… do you really think this has something to do with–”

“The Upside Down.” You and Max say at the same time.

“‘It’s happening again’,” Nancy echoes your words from moments ago. She understands, now. “So this-this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy is from the Upside Down?”

Steve nods at her and Dustin sighs heavily. “We think he attacks with a spell, or maybe even a curse.”

“But we don’t know if he’s under the Mind Flayer’s control,” you point out. “For all we know, he could just be someone with El’s powers. We know the lab tested on other kids, right?”

Max looks up at you and her face twists with apprehension. “I don’t know, something feels different about this, it’s almost like it’s something new. I don’t think it’s anyone like El.”

“It doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mumbles.

“No, I think Max is right. Something feels off about all of this.” Your arms draw together, it’s impossibly cold for late March. The chill has set into your bones.

Nancy nods at you, but there’s something else on her mind. “But Fred and Chrissy also don’t make sense. I mean, why them?”

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.” Dustin offers, and you shiver again.

Billy had been in the wrong place, too. It’s how the Mind Flayer got him. He’d just been unlucky and alone.

“And the trailer park,” Max adds.

Steve’s eyes widen slightly, he shifts against you and unconsciously moves you closer to him. “We’re at the trailer park, should we… maybe not be here?”

The wind picks up and a crow cries overhead. The barren grass rustles as shadows fall against it. Your spine prickles with nerves. Steve is right to be worried. There’s something eerie about the trailer park, the caution tape that guards Eddie’s door is still too fresh.

You wrap your sweater tighter to your body, cold with unease. Nancy’s eyes flicker around the park as the wind rustles the leaves. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin asks what she means, and when Nancy begins to explain how scared and on edge Fred had been, a dull throb slowly creeps up the base of your neck. The sensation builds until it’s a roar of nerve endings exploding against your temple, and you wince in pain.

Steve’s fingers skim the crest of your wrist. “Hey,” he’s lowered his voice so the others can’t hear, he knows you never like to worry others. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” the concern in Steve’s eyes burns you. He hasn’t spoken to you all day, but still his skin warms yours and he wants to make sure you’re safe. Comfortable. Okay. Even with the anger between you and all the unspoken half-truths, he still cares about you.

You want to tell him that you haven’t slept in days, that the nightmares are back and that they’re worse than ever before. You want to rest your head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It’s the only way you’ve been able to keep the migraines at bay.

But you don’t tell Steve any of this. Instead, you lie through your teeth. “I’m fine,” you reassure him again. There isn’t time for you not to be okay. Two people have died already, your migraines can wait.

Steve doesn’t look convinced. He knows you, he knows how you are and how much you push down for the sake of others, but before he can press you further, Robin interrupts. “Hey, lovebirds, we’re trying to solve a murder case here.”

“I’m listening,” you roll your eyes at her, skin flushing a bit with embarrassment. “Anyways, what if Fred and Chrissy saw something that made them go catatonic? I think we should be focusing on the trace-like state more, it’s a trauma response.”

“What, so they’re insane asylum patients?” Dustin asks with slight displeasure. “I mean, I guess that makes sense. But Vecna can cast spells, at least in DnD. I don’t think they just ‘saw’ something.”

Steve scratches his nose. “If I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.”

“Would you, though?” You don’t mean for the question to come off as condescending, and you quickly try to alleviate the offended look on the teen’s face. “What I mean is, who would you go to about something like that?”

“I… I think I know who they’d go to.” Max stares down at the table, her eyebrows furrowed together. She’s deep in thought, remembering something. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelly’s office. If you saw a monster, you wouldn’t go to the police.”

“They’d never believe you,” you bear your weight against the table. Nostalgia wraps around you at the memory of how scared you’d been to tell Hopper about El, the years it took for you to trust him. “That’s why I never went to Hopper when I first found El.”

Max nods, she’s relieved you get where she’s going with this. “Exactly, but you might go to your–”

“Shrink.” Robin finishes, sending you an apologetic smile for the offensive language against the profession you hope to one day go into. “No offense, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, feeling defensive. “Again with calling Ms. Kelly a shrink. She’s not a shrink, she’s actually really nice.”

“You sound like you know her personally.” Dustin narrows his eyes at you. Nothing goes unnoticed by him.

All eyes turn to you, and you sink down in embarrassment. “I’ve… had a few meetings with her.”

Simultaneously both Steve and Dustin widen their eyes. They hadn’t known you were seeing Ms. Kelly. Nancy looks at you curiously, Robin bites her lip, and Max nods solemnly. It’s a large range of reactions, one that makes you anxious to deal with. “Can everyone stop staring at me, please?”

Steve lets out a quick breath and runs a hand through his hair. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing the school’s guidance counselor, Y/N.”

“She didn’t tell me, either.” Dustin mumbles bitterly. You’ve never hidden anything from him before. He wonders, distantly, when you started to.

“I didn’t want to worry you guys, it really isn’t a big deal.” When both boys bristle at this, you hold your hand up to silence them. “No, I don’t want to hear it. It’s not like I was seeing Ms. Kelly for anything serious, okay? She’s the guidance counselor, so I just. You know. Needed some guidance.”

It’s a horrible lie, you know that no one believes you, but they take pity on you and move on. Originally you really were seeing Ms. Kelly for college admissions help, but after a few sessions you slowly started opening up to her about the sleepless nights. The image of Billy’s lifeless body. Max’s screams.

Nancy clears her throat and changes the topic. She comes up with what to do next, creating a plan to ask Ms. Kelly what she knows, and you sit silently. You’re relieved the attention is finally off of you. Within minutes a plan is formed: you and Max will talk to Ms. Kelly to try and get more information.

Steve agrees to drive to the house. As you’re walking to his passenger side door, he notices that Nancy isn’t following. Instead, she’s going to her own car. “Hey, Nance. Where’re you going?”

Nancy turns around, a guilty but determined look on her face. Her eyes land on you, knowing you’ll be the hardest to convince of her plan. “There’s just-there’s something I want to check on first.”

Predictably, your shoulders tense and your eyes ignite with worry. “Please don’t make me remind you that there are people dying right now. You can’t seriously think it’s safe to be on your own.”

“I can protect myself, Y/N.” Nancy reminds you gently, understanding your concern but knowing it isn’t needed.

“You care to share with the rest of us?” Dustin calls over to the two of you.

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy shoves her hands into her jean jacket. “It’s… a real shot in the dark.”

You frown at this. “If it’s something you think is worth looking into, then it isn’t a shot in the dark. You’ve always been right.”

Nancy blushes at your words, but Steve silently fumes beside you. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Are you guys out of your mind? No way is Nancy flying solo with Vecna on the loose.”

“I never said that she should fly solo,” you say slowly, not at all liking how he’s twisting your words. You had been complimenting Nancy’s intelligence, restoring her faith back into her work. You don’t understand where this protectiveness from Steve is coming from. “I know it’s too dangerous, that’s why I was going to suggest–”

“You’re right. It’s too dangerous. Bottom line. She needs someone to-Christ.” Steve isn’t listening. He’s too caught up in his head as tosses his keys to Robin, who only barely manages to catch them. “Here, Y/N and I will stick with Nance.”

You cross your arms and glare at him. “I’m sorry?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, he’s too busy staring at Nancy, and for a brief second you truly believe that there’s something soft in his gaze when he looks at her. They’re friends, you know this. There’s a history between them that rivals your history with Jonathan. Nancy was Steve’s first love, and now he loves you, and you try desperately to shake the insecurity that you feel.

If you’re being completely honest, you’re not even sure why you’re suddenly thinking all of this. You’ve never been insecure, at least not in your relationship with Steve. During the almost year you’ve been with him, there’ve been times girls have flirted with him or old flings that have tried to vie for his attention. But through it all your trust in him never wavered, you knew that at the end of the day it was your bed he was crawling into.

And yet there’s a voice in the back of your head telling you that the way Steve is looking at Nancy right now is different; it’s how he looks at you. The voice is darker, more cruel. It’s one you don’t recognize, and yet you do.

Steve seems to come back to himself and turns to you. “Robin can go with the kids to the shrink. Max can talk to her alone, it’s no big deal.”

Robin holds the keys away from her as if they’re poisoned. “I don’t think you want me driving your car.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

Steve shakes his head with impatience. “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” Robin shrugs, and you laugh slightly.

Max raises her hand. “I can drive.”

“No!” You and Steve exclaim at the same time, both of you getting war flashbacks to when Max had driven you after Billy had knocked you guys unconscious. It’d been a rough night and waking up to a thirteen year old driving a sports car definitely hadn't helped.

“Please,” you look at Max with genuine longing. “Never, ever drive me ever again.”

“Literally anyone but you–” Steve sees Dustin make a face, offering himself to drive, and the older teen snaps his fingers at him in annoyance. “No chance.”

You shake your head as well. No way in hell are you allowing the kid to drive either. “Absolutely not, Dustin. You couldn’t even drive a golf cart properly.”

“I did a decent job!”

“I still think you’re the one who gave Steve his third concussion with your horrible braking.”

“We were being chased by evil Russians!”

Robin steps between you and your brother, holding her hands up. “Alright, this is stupid.” She grabs Dustin’s walkie from his backpack and marches to Nancy while handing Steve his keys. “Us ladies, sans Y/N, will stick together. Unless Steve thinks we need him to protect us?”

She raises her eyebrows, challenging the teen, and you watch him. He shuffles nervously, ducks his head down. Steve is guilty and ashamed and embarrassed. Your stomach clenches.

“He knows better than to doubt you guys,” you step in for him, saving him. “Right, Steve?”

Nancy laughs at the look of fear on his face and Robin smirks. Satisfied, they turn around and start to head towards Nancy’s car. You wish them luck as they leave, tell them to be safe. They wave back at you, and although you wish you could join them, you know that Max will want you by her side while she talks to Ms. Kelly.

Once the girls are gone, you hit Steve’s chest. “Nice one, buddy.”

He lets out a pained huff, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows he had it coming. With a sigh he follows you back to his car and gets into the driver’s seat. Dustin stares at him through the rearview mirror with a shit eating grin on his face. Tired, Steve glares at him. “Not a word.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dustin defends himself.

“No, but you were going to, and-hey,” Steve turns in his seat and glares even more at your brother. “Did you make sure to wipe your feet?”

“Yes,” Dustin says at the same time as you and Max say, “No.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and starts the car angrily. His movements are jerky and uncontrolled. “Always the goddamn babysitter!” He exclaims, resentment marring his face.

You jump slightly at his raised voice. He hates being sidelined, you know this. Similar to you, all Steve ever wants to do is help. He does whatever he can, he tries harder than anyone. It’s what you first fell for, back when Steve originally crashed into your life.

It’s because of his kindness and devotion to others that you reach for Steve’s hand. His skin is cold, goosebumps raise at your touch, but you interlock your fingers through his and slowly, piece by piece, Steve relaxes.

He’s missed your touch. You’ve missed his, too.

–

Ms. Kelly, to her credit, tries to mask her surprise when she sees you and Max standing at her door. “Oh, hello, girls.”

“Hi,” you smile kindly at the woman. “We really hate to bother you over spring break, but do you possibly have a minute to talk?”

“With the two of you?” Ms. Kelly knew that you and Max were both grieving Billy, but she hadn’t known that you knew each other. “Y/N, I’m sure you’re aware that this is highly unusual to request.”

You wince. “Yeah, I’m definitely aware that this is a pretty strange thing to ask. It’s just that I was the one who convinced Max to start seeing you in the first place, and now that I’m also seeing you, we figured we could… talk to you together?”

It’s a horrible excuse. The lie is vague and too transparent to believe. Neither you or Max had a lot of time to come up with a convincing cover story during the drive here.

“I don’t know,” Ms. Kelly’s face strains with contemplation.

Max softens her eyes and does her best to look small, pleading. “Please?”

You try to appear troubled as well, though it isn’t hard. Your headache hasn’t left. The pounding in your head has only intensified since leaving the trailer park. Ms. Kelly’s gaze flits between you and Max, reading for any signs of lying or ill-will, before her resolve crumbles.

“Oh, alright.” She opens her door wider, ushers the two of you inside. “Come in.”

Steve and Dustin watch as you disappear inside the house. They’ve parked across the street, opting to be the lookout in case anything happens. You spare one last glance over your shoulder, eyes meeting Steve’s, before Ms. Kelly closes the door.

“Okay, they’re in.” Steve states the obvious, slightly unsettled to be stuck in the car while you’re inside.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes.” Dustin snorts. He expects Steve to say something snarky in response, but then he notices that the teen is still staring longingly out the window, tracing Ms. Kelly’s door. He looks pathetic, waiting for you, and Dustin sighs. “So… we gonna talk about it?”

Steve’s eyes linger on the doorway, a far off look on his face. When he realizes that Dustin has spoken, he turns to him slowly. “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?”

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? In front of my sister?”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

Dustin glares at Steve, defensive over you. “Oh, really? I’m pretty sure it did, there were a lot of witnesses. Y/N included.”

“What are you implying, little Henderson?” Steve rubs his face, too tired for the kid’s mind games. He knows he was being weird earlier with Nancy, but he would never do that to you. Ever. He had simply been overwhelmed and confused and feeling a multitude of things that he still isn’t ready to face.

“I’m not implying anything,” Dustin puts his hands up. “All I’m saying is that I know you and Y/N have been fighting lately and that for some stupid reason, you’re doubting your relationship.”

Steve throws his head back against the seat. Of course you told Dustin about last night. “Look, I’m not-I’m not doubting our relationship, alright? I mean, I love her, man. So, so much. We just… things have been hard, lately. Really fucking hard.”

He isn’t sure how much you’ve told your brother. He doesn’t think you’d tell him about Jonathan, at least not until you know yourself whatever the hell he’d been trying to tell you the other night.

Dustin doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He stares past Steve, his eyes almost seem to glaze over. “It’s because she’s leaving, isn’t it?”

All the air in Steve’s lungs gets knocked out of him. “Yes,” he breathes out. His mouth is dry. He swallows, his tongue feels too thick for his mouth. “Sometimes it feels like she’s, I don’t know, like she’s outgrown me? I-I know it’s stupid, but she’s going so far for college and I’m stuck in Hawkins like some fucking moron and she-she didn’t want me going with her.”

“Did you know that I cried when she got into NYU?” Dustin asks him, a hurt smile on his face. When Steve shakes his head, the boy inhales deeply. “Yeah, cried like a baby the whole night. I mean, I knew she applied, I knew she’d get in, but… you’re right. She is going pretty far. I’ve never,” he wipes at his eyes quickly, embarrassed that he’s crying. “I’ve never had to spend a single day without my sister.”

Steve stares at your brother, finally beginning to understand the distance between the two of you. For weeks now it’s all you’ve complained about to Steve. How much you resented Eddie for being Dustin’s new favorite person, how much you miss singing with him in the kitchen while you baked. But now here Dustin is, teary eyed, explaining to Steve just how scared he is to be without his sister. “It feels like she’s leaving you, too.”

“Yeah,” Dustin wipes his eyes again, nodding. “Yeah, sometimes it feels like she can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Even though we’ll still be here,” Steve says solemnly.

It’s quiet again. A few birds sing in the tree above them. You and Max haven’t returned, yet. After a while, Dustin turns to Steve. “She doesn’t mean it, you know.”

“Who?”

“Y/N,” the boy clarifies, and Steve’s heart skips a beat. “She doesn’t mean it when she says she doesn’t want you going with her to New York. She’s just… she’s scared, and she knows that it isn’t what you really want. Nothing gets past her, it’s really annoying.”

Steve scoffs a bit, fondness running through him. Dustin’s right. Nothing ever gets past you, you notice and see everything. But then he thinks about what your brother has said, the fear he hadn’t known about. “Why would she be scared?”

Dustin stiffens in his seat, his gaze once again blurs. He twists his hands anxiously, fixes his hat. The atmosphere shifts, Steve can see that he’s uncomfortable now. He’s about to tell Dustin that he doesn’t have to answer, but the kid does anyways. “Our parents, they-um. Met in college.”

Steve sits up as well. You and Dustin never talk about your parents, at least not about your father. Steve can’t remember the last time you’ve even mentioned him. He thinks maybe the man had called you once, during Christmas.

“They got married right before graduation. Our mom had been pregnant with Y/N, they got hitched and in their marital bliss, our dad somehow convinced our mom to leave Indiana. She grew up here, but our dad was from Virginia and he insisted that she move there.”

Bitter. Dustin is bitter.

“Everything was fine, I guess. I liked Virginia. Y/N did, too. But our mom was lonely, anyone could see that. We lived in a pretty small town, our dad was basically a goddamn Kennedy there. Everyone adored him, but our mom… things were different for her. She was always in his shadow, but Y/N and I were too young to notice for a long time.”

Steve swallows. “And then… the divorce?”

“The stupid fucking divorce.” Dustin spits out. “It wasn’t a surprise, but somehow we still felt blindsided. One day our dad was charming, cracking jokes with everyone and playing the guitar with us, then the next he just-he snapped. Became bitter, mean. Y/N idolized him, but when our parents started fighting every night and our mom cried over some woman named Carry… I lost my sister, for a while.”

“She told me,” Steve whispers, remembering the rawness in your voice the night you confessed to him that you were once cruel. “I had to remind her that she came back, in the end.”

The corners of Dustin’s mouth turn upwards slightly. “Yeah, she came back.” But then his expression darkens, his mood sours. “Our mother almost didn’t, though. After having to move back to Hawkins with barely any money to support us, it basically destroyed her. She had lost all her friends by that point, her own parents died while we lived in Virginia.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve’s throat constricts. He hadn’t known any of this. He feels like such an asshole now for assuming the worst in you. For allowing his own insecurities to blind him. “I-I didn’t know about any of that.”

“Yeah, well.” Dustin shrugs. “Now you do. And you need to know that Y/N is being her usual selfless self because of our mom and what happened to her. She doesn't want that happening to you, dipshit.”

Steve exhales through his nose, his head is swimming with so many more questions, so many apologies he wishes he could say. Instead, he stares out the window, waiting for you to return.

–

“So, what would you girls like to discuss with me?” The clock on Ms. Kelly’s walk ticks ominously behind her. She’s seated you and Max in her basement den. You can tell by the stack of books and messy desk that she uses the area as her makeshift office.

Max slouches against her seat. “Oh, it’s nothing too serious, we were just–”

“I’m worried about Max.” You interrupt the girl, not daring to look at her.

Ms. Kelly raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I think with all the murders happening, it might be affecting her.” It isn’t necessarily a lie. You have been worried about Max and her behavior. Especially these last few weeks. “It might be resurfacing some… memories.”

Max tries to argue, but Ms. Kelly holds her hand up. “You’ve both experienced trauma, Y/N. She lost her brother while you held his dying body.”

A lump forms in your throat, your lungs feel cold.

The woman turns to Max, now. “And when you keep your feelings in, your pain, bottled up the way you do, it doesn’t take much to trigger them again. I can see why Y/N may be worried.”

Max doesn’t meet Ms. Kelly’s eyes. She swallows heavily and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I know.”

“You know you can always talk to me, Max.” You say softly, wanting desperately to reach out to her. But you’re afraid it’ll only drive her further away.

She frowns at you. “Like how you talk to Dustin, or even to Steve?”

Her accusation cuts deeply. You hadn’t known that she was paying attention to you. That your disguised “I’m fine’s” weren’t convincing her. Max must know this, because she lowers her eyes again and mumbles a quiet apology.

Ms. Kelly notices the tension and leans between the two of you. “Do you think you’re ready to talk more about that night?”

Max’s eyes gloss over briefly, her face distorts with discomfort. An onslaught of memories overtakes her, just as they overtake you. The echoes of her screams for her brother replay in your mind over and over again. The squelch of Billy’s blood trickles down your spine. You were right next to her when it happened. The blood still stains your clothes from that night at Starcourt.

“I live next door to where it happened.” Max changes the subject, her voice returning. When Ms. Kelly asks for more clarification, she continues. “Next to where Chrissy was murdered. The cops asked me a bunch of questions. Did they talk to you?”

The woman sits up, apprehensive. She hadn’t been expecting to talk about this. You sit there quietly, head still pounding from earlier as Max takes over. She interrogates Ms. Kelly, who does her best to dodge every question, and suddenly the warmth in the room becomes unbearable.

“Excuse me,” you stand up, hand clutching your stomach. Nausea swirls within you. You feel faint, the pounding has increased and sweat trickles down your neck. Both Max and Ms. Kelly look at you in concern, but you ignore them.

Blindly you stumble towards the kitchen you remember seeing when you arrived. Too nauseous and overwhelmed to care about niceties, you dig through Ms. Kelly’s cupboards until you find a cup. After filling it with water, the icey coolness of the liquid settles uneasily in your stomach. You lean over the sink, hands clutching the edge. Everything in your body feels unsteady.

Max comes up the stairs and finds you breathing heavily. “You’re not going to hurl, are you?”

“Trying really hard not to right now,” you breathe through your nose, out through your mouth. “Thanks for the concern.”

No response comes. Instead, footsteps walk up behind you. You hear metal clanking against glass, and when you turn around, you find Max holding up a pair of keys. She smirks, flashing you the white keyring attached to them labeled, “office”.

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “No, we are not stealing–”

Except Max grabs your arm and practically flings you out the front door. She shoves you, urging you to start running towards Steve’s car, and all you can do is stumble over your feet and follow after her. When you make it back to the car, panting from the exertion and thrill, Steve and Dustin turn to you with wide eyes.

“What’d she say?” Your brother asks, noting your frazzled appearance.

“Nothing, just drive.” Max dismisses.

“I just became a felon.”

The girl rolls her eyes at you. “Personal property theft isn’t a felony.”

“Jesus,” Steve does a double take, baffled by this entire conversation. “What the hell did you guys do in there?”

“Steve, drive!” Max shouts at him.

The tires of the car squeal against the pavement as Steve steps on the gas. He steadies the car, a wild look in his eyes. “Where are we even going?”

“The school,” Max holds up the keys she stole.

Dustin looks at her incredulously. “Are those–”

“The keys to Ms. Kelly’s office? Yeah.” You nod grimly. “I told you, I’m now a felon.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic–”

A voice comes through Cerebro, cutting Max off. “Dustin? It’s Lucas. Do you copy?”

Relief washes over you hearing Lucas’ voice. Between tracking down Eddie and dealing with interrogating school guidance counselors, you’d also been slowly worrying yourself to death over the boy. It’s unusual for him to be quiet for so long, and with all the murders now occurring… You’d been terrified.

“Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Demands Dustin.

“Just listen, are you guys looking for Eddie?”

You and Steve share an uncertain look. Why would Lucas be radioing about him? How much does he know?

Your brother tells Lucas that you’ve found Eddie and tells him where he is, that he’s safe. Immediately, the boy responds, “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?”

Predictably, Dustin doesn’t take this very well. “That’s bullshit, Eddie tried to save Chrissy.”

Lucas presses further, not believing what he’s hearing. Max snatches the radio from Dustin, tired of all the vague responses. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay?”

“Technically we still haven’t elaborated on the whole Eddie thing,” you point out, which she glares at you for.

“Y/N?” Lucas asks, surprised to hear you’re with them.

You grab the walkie. “Hey, how’s your day been?”

“Awful,” he responds bluntly while Steve snorts at your question. “Why are you guys so sure Eddie didn’t–”

“Just meet us at school. We’ll explain later.” Max instructs, leaning over the car’s console.

“I can’t,” fear leaks through Lucas’ voice. You sit up now, looking at Steve again. He hears it, too. “I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”

You feel your heartbeat pick up. “Lucas, what does that mean? Are you okay, where are you?”

“Sinclair!” A voice shouts, before the radio cuts into static.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Max shouts into the walkie, but he doesn’t respond. She sounds scared, it’s the most emotion you’ve heard in her voice in months.

You’re no better. You sit in the passenger seat, numb. The voice, you recognized it. You’d know Jason Carver’s voice anywhere. Everything clicks; you remember how Lucas was supposed to go to the party after the basketball game. Chrissy had been Jason’s girlfriend before she was brutally killed. The cops would’ve questioned him, they would’ve told him how her body had been found in Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie Munson, the town freak everyone hates.

“What shit could Lucas get into?” Dustin questions, annoyance twinged with worry for his friend.

You try to steady your breathing, nausea returning. You almost don’t recognize the sound of your own voice. “It’s Jason. He’s-he’s angry.”

The words settle in the car, linger in the air, before they crash heavily upon the four of you. The realization dawns on everyone, the inevitability of what will happen next is an unbearable weight.

Steve steps even harder on the gas. He knows the basketball team, how cruel teen boys can be.

–

Every time you’ve snuck into one of Hawkins’ schools, it’s never led to anything good. The first two times had been in the middle school for Will. Neither time involved very pleasant memories. This year you’re sneaking into the high school in order to violate your classmates’ privacy and read their deepest, darkest secrets.

“This feels wrong,” you huff under your breath, barely keeping up with Steve and the others as they run through the hallway. “I’d hate it if anyone read my file.”

“Would you rather risk anyone else dying?” Max responds, giving you a pointed look.

You frown but don’t say anything, figuring she’s right. As much as you hate to do this, it’s objectively the lesser of two evils. You’ll apologize to the students after this is done. If they question why you’ve baked them brownies, you’ll simply lie and say you had extra laying around.

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice carries over the radio. Your heart skips a beat hearing her, you’ve missed her today. After your brother responds, she starts to explain what she and Nancy found. “So, Nancy’s a genius.”

“What else is new?” You say, and Robin laughs.

“My thoughts exactly, pretty girl.” She clears her throat. “Anyways, Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s-eye.”

The new information startles you. Vecna first started killing in 1959? Why didn’t you hear anything about it until now, and why didn’t El sense him before?

Dustin looks equally unsettled by the news. “Okay, that’s totally bonkers, but we can’t really talk right now.”

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking and entering into the school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

You wince. It’s as bad as it sounds. Tapping Dustin’s shoulder, you break him away from the walkie. “Wait, we won’t need my files, right?”

Steve eyes you up and down, shrugging indifferently. “Well–” Hitting his chest, he sputters at you. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“You’re not reading my files, Harrington.”

Meanwhile, Dustin urges Robin and Nancy to meet you guys at the school. By the time their conversation wraps up, Max has unlocked the office door. She heads straight towards the drawers, long familiar with the layout; you follow after her.

Steve and Dustin look around while you and Max dig through the files. They mumble something about Watergate, but you can barely hear them over the rush of blood in your eardrums. Max’s fingers rest on a specific file. The name printed on it makes you feel sick.

Fred Benson.

“Holy shit,” she exhales, grabbing it.

“Found it?” Dustin stands next to you now, neck peering down.

You struggle to breathe. “We didn’t just find Chrissy’s file.”

Dustin tilts his head, he doesn’t understand, and Max holds the file up. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelly too.”

Steve and Dustin freeze. You can practically see their heartbeats still. The air in the room goes stale. Their eyes linger on you, they wish they couldn’t piece it together. Chrissy and Fred were seeing Ms. Kelly up until their deaths. You and Max have been seeing her, too. It’s one hell of a coincidence.

But that’s all this is. A horrible, awful coincidence.

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, but you shake your head at him.

“Please,” your lip trembles. Not here, not now. He can’t look away from you, but you can’t bear to look at him. Instead, you grab the remaining files and hand them to Max. “We need to go through them. All of them.”

Dustin sits at the desk, Steve’s hand rests on the small of your back as you lean over Max to read the files. He shines a flashlight for the two of you, Chrissy’s file is the first one you read. The image of her once vibrant and alive smile stares back at you. There’s a column of writing to the left of her photo, the handwriting is neat, orderly, and it catches your attention.

“Are those…?”

“Symptoms.” Max softly answers, eyes skimming down the list.

Past trauma.

Terrible migraines.

Difficulty sleeping.

Headaches.

Max’s entire body tenses, her muscles pull taut against you. Your own body shakes, the tremors misalign your bones. Slowly, she looks up at you. Her eyes silently beg you to tell her that you’ve gotten it all wrong. Max’s blue eyes plead with you to tell her that none of this is real.

“Steve,” your voice catches, unable to inhale. “Can we see Fred’s file?”

He softly agrees, handing you the file immediately. You take it from him. The paper trembles in your unsteady grasp. Laying them down, you open the file and Fred’s photo burns you. Next to it is a list of symptoms.

They’re the same as Chrissy’s.

They’re the same as yours.

The headaches. Sleepless nights. The trauma you’ve been through, the nightmares that will never truly go away. Everything you’ve experienced within the last week.

Nosebleeds is starred, and for a moment your heartbeat settles. You haven’t had a nosebleed since you were five. It isn’t one of your symptoms; it can all still be a coincidence.

“This-this can’t be right.” You don’t know if you say this to reassure Max or yourself, but when you look down at her, you know. She has a far off look in her eyes. She doesn’t react to what you’ve just said.

It’s only then that you remember her nosebleed from earlier this week; it hadn’t been a coincidence.

“Max?” You shake her shoulders, tears already in your eyes. You know better than to be so naive, so blindly ignorant. You should’ve known better. You should’ve known that something was wrong.

Dustin and Steve try to wake Max, but she’s already left her body. She’s unresponsive, lost in whatever trance she’s in.

“Y/N, what’s happening?” Steve demands, fear in his own voice.

You’re hysterical, screaming and sobbing for Max to wake up. Her body is so small against yours, she’s frail and weak and her skin has never looked so translucent. Over and over you shake her, your palms rest against her cheeks and you cry.

You’ve come to know what fear is. How it can blind a person, leave them stricken with such raw anguish. Fear takes whatever air is left inside you and it poisons it with sulfur and leaves you choking.

The day Will went missing, the only air left in your body had been blood.

When inside the tunnels defending your little brother from monsters, the air in your body had been carbon.

Starcourt mall and the fireworks that exploded over Billy’s dangling and bloodied body left only just enough air in your lungs to scream.

But this fear, seeing Max unresponsive to your pleas, this fear doesn’t spare you any air.

Gasping and choking, you’re a wreck. “Max!”

Faintly you can feel Steve’s hands on you, or maybe they’re Dustin’s. Someone grabs you, pulls you away, but all you can do is scream.

It all makes sense now, Nancy’s question from earlier rings in your ears. You know why Chrissy and Fred were targeted. Why Ms. Kelly was somehow the center of it all.

The symptoms they experienced prior, the same ones that plague you and Max. You know what it is.

Venca’s curse.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

⌑ thank you for reading ! feel free to like, comment, reblog, or send in an ask so we can chat <3

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #bdyr #m's writing #oh dear this chapter has so much. like wow #all the conversations .....#whew

502 notes · View notes

bamfkeeper · 5 months ago

Text

Beautiful Devil

RQ: 'Hi, I have a request: a fic about NightcrawlerxFem!Reader, Beauty and the beast AU, starting it like the fairytale (Reader decide to sacrifice herself for her father because the scared man THINK the mysteriuos blue creature ask him to bring one of his daughters in his place). Maybe in the finale you can add the mob attacking the castle like in the episode of the '90 serie, with Graydon Creed guiding the mob (you can't look at that man and don't think he's a variant of Gaston). Just don't turn Kurt into a human, I love our fuzzy Elf. Thanks!' - @historygirl93

Warnings: F!reader, some violence, minor character death. Unedited.

A/N: I think this is a cute idea, I love the story. I don't see how Kurt could ever be viewed as 'beastly' he's too sweet. The fairytale is a longer story and involving all the details would take me a long time to write, so I did what I could to get the idea of the story across. I did my best, it was slightly challenging, and I changed just a few details just because I thought it would be better for the story.

WC: 2.2k

The village held such a prejudice against the blue demon who lived in the abandoned church. Rumors of yellow glowing eyes and a shadow with a devil's tail flicking in the dark, crawling on the walls like a hellish insect. A monster, the children of the village feared him just as much as the adults, whom had weapons ready to kill if he dared leave the cathedral.

Your father was highly religious. He wanted to banish the devil from the church once and for all, to purify the holy ground, but believed that only a sacrifice would satisfy the creature. You were horrified at first, being so helplessly given away as a sacrifice, you were the lamb that was about to be beheaded for no reason.

Upon being abandoned at the cathedral, surrounded by the harsh cold and snow, you thought you'd freeze to death. To your initial horror and surprise, the devil appeared. He flashed in front of you in black and purple smoke, like they rose from the ashes of Hell. You were far too tired and exhausted, so before you knew it, your body was wrapped and you were inside.

You felt the warmth of the fire inside the stone furnace, you sat up and watched the orange flames dance quietly while the blanket remained wrapped around your drenched form. The snow melted away and left you wet and still somewhat cold. But you were at least inside...

Once you regained enough bearings, you looked around for the devil, wondering where he was and what he was going to do to you. You felt fearful, your mind having heavy thoughts invading your mind of horrific treatment. While you searched the dark room, you saw his eyes peering to you from the darkest corner, tiny irises of gold staring through your soul.

"It's you..." your voice muttered out quietly, "You're the devil." Your hushed tone made him tilt his head slightly, he slowly walked around the wall, the far shadows hiding most of him.

"Nein...I am no Teufel..." he spoke back, his voice was even and not nearly as intimidating as you thought it would be. "I was born like this. But I am no demon." He stepped closer as he spoke to you, his appearance becoming more visible in the firelight. He had blue skin and sharp teeth like the villagers said, a long tail with a devil's spade, sharp nails and pointed ears...

"You look like one," you shakily retorted, still on edge of what his intentions were and you weren't about to fall victim without a fight. He only chuckled back, empty and somewhat...sad.

"I know."

He sat down near you, a few feet away, looking at you and slowly giving a smile, trying to be friendly. "I won't hurt you, I wouldn't ever." He paused, then continued, "Besides, a demon cannot step inside a church." He reasoned, holding out a three fingered hand to you. "Hab keine Angst."

You were cautious, but after seeing he wasn't nearly as horrifying as the town made him seem, you reached out and touched his hand. His skin was warm, he was fluffy. He felt like soft velvet, not like cold scaled skin you had been told was the skin of the devil.

Over the following weeks, you became closer to each other. You warmed up quickly after his efforts to try to appear not so scary, and once you spoke more often, he was actually very sweet and kind. You watched him feed birds and squirrels, holding the seeds in his palms and speaking to the birds as if they could understand him.

His favorites were the blue jays.

He showed you the cathedral, leading you through the massive church and showing you around. He showed you the library with lots of books along the walls, the studio where old paints and canvases were. He gave you plenty of things to do, and he provided you with good food, a large space to sleep, he treated you well. He was kind and sweet and...attractive.

You couldn't help but feel yourself get pulled towards him. Feel yourself get swept up by his chivalry and charm. He showed off in front of you, entertaining you with his skills as an acrobat and swordsman, he even let you try to swing one of his swords.

It was much heavier than you thought, making his skills all the more impressive.

You got word that your father had fallen very ill, and you wanted to see him. Kurt didn't want you to leave, scared you'd never return again. He held your hands and looked at you in the eye, his worry etched on his face. "You won't abandon me, will you?" he asks softly, "I don't wish for you to go..." he brings your hand up to his cheek, rubbing his face into your palm.

Your heart melts and you sigh, "I promise I'll come back. I just...want to make sure my father is okay..." you whisper back. You knew how he felt, being abandoned was one of his biggest fears. All he had been in his life was abandoned, by his mother, this town, sometimes he felt as though God himself has abandoned him.

With great reluctance, he let go and you rushed back into the village, desperate to see your sickly father. You were still angry he left you to die, but he was still your father. When you made it back, you came to his bedside and saw how terrible he looked. You had no idea what he had, but he looked on the verge of death.

Word got loose that you were in the town, somehow surviving the 'demon' who resided in the abandoned church. The town's greatest 'champion,' Graydon, nearly stormed up to your home and forced his way in. His voice loud and demanding, he as angry and furious with you.

The vile man had attempted to court you before. You always denied him. Why would you want to be with someone as crude and hateful as Graydon?

"How did you escape that wretched demon?" he demanded, yanking you from your father's bedside. He held your arm tight and stared at you with fury in his eyes. "That beastly creature will invade our town because of you! You were his sacrifice! Leaving signifies that the deal is broken! You've doomed all of us!"

Your eyes were wide as he basically screamed in your face, his cool was gone and he looked like he wanted to hurt you. You tugged against his strong hold, grunting as you tried to get free. "He's not a monster, or a demon! He's just a man!" You shouted back, "He's kind, gentle, he wouldn't hurt a soul!"

Graydon laughed at you, yanking you closer again. "You are lucky you are pretty, girl...you are such a naïve little thing. That devil is evil, and you have succumbed to his incubi ways. Don't worry, I'll make sure I fix that little head of yours up and rid you of the corruption he has brought upon you."

He threw you down, you hit your head and everything became a hazy mess. You heard his footsteps leave, his heavy boots hitting the old wooden floors with anger. You tried to lift yourself up, but you hit your head too hard. The world was spinning around you, but you didn't want any harm to come to Kurt. Graydon was as ruthless as he was egotistical, and he was dead set on murdering Kurt. He always had been, telling tall tales of cutting off his head and hanging it over the statue in town square.

You could hear his voice, rallying the town and heading up the treacherous path to the abandoned cathedral. You felt your heart ache, your body fading to unconsciousness from the injury.

When you regained consciousness, your body ached but the thought of Graydon already at the church gave you a newfound form of energy. You jerked up, your father had been too weak and sick to help, while you worried for him, the memory of him giving you up to die was there. You had to make a choice, and your heart had been decided.

You needed to get to the church.

You stumbled out to the stables, your body staggering as your brain felt fuzzy and heavy. You probably had a concussion, but right now that wasn't important. You didn't have a horse of your own, you prayed that the one you made it to wouldn't buck you off. The stallion let out a soft nicker, you rubbed its neck, your hand weakly holding onto the mane and you forced your body to mount.

The horse moved a few steps, adjusting to your weight. No saddle, it'll have to do.

You squeezed your legs and held on, the horse moved forward and with your encouragement it began a steady gallop through the trail that led up to the church. The horse was fast and bareback was hard for you to hold on, especially with a head injury. the horse sensed your wavering weight and tried to steady its run.

Over the hill was the church, and the stallion ran you right inside the broken down doors. You heard loud shouting, men fighting, and the sight that came to view was horrible.

Most of the men were down, unconscious, and Graydon was shooting arrows at Kurt, who had been disappearing in puffs of smoke, reappearing in other places. His yellow eyes blazed and he hissed at Graydon, landing kicks and punches to the larger man. You shouted at them to stop, but your voice fell on deaf ears.

The torches the other men had been carrying caught the tapestries and the flames eagerly began to eat the fabric and grow. The horse reared up, and you fell off its back as it ran out of the church. You sat up and cried out at Graydon, "Stop it! Don't hurt him! Can't you see what you're doing?!"

Kurt's teleporting soon became predictable, Graydon memorized the pattern and he shot an arrow into Kurt's leg right as he reappeared again. Kurt let out a strangled cry, stumbling from the beams and to the ground. By now the flames had consumed the entire room, smoke became thick and Graydon towered over Kurt's body. His eyes reflecting the fire, his face red and his hair a mess. He looked like the devil now, the fire only adding to his hellish desires to smite out Kurt's existence.

"Die, I cast you down to the pits of Hell where you belong!" Graydon tore a blade from his sheath, raising it above his head. But Kurt's eyes were focused on the burning wood above him, and he managed to teleport from that spot right as the wooden beams fell from the ceiling. Kurt reappeared by you, his fuzzy arms wrapped around yours as he teleported you outside. The last thing you saw in the church were the large beams falling onto Graydon's body, crushing him.

When you reappeared outside, you saw Kurt was hurt from the fight. He had two arrows in his body, one in his leg and one in his back, several lacerations from fighting the others and some parts of him had been burned. He let out a deep cough and he laid beside you, unresponsive.

"Kurt?? Kurt! Wake up!" You shook him, gently at first but it became more frantic when you noticed his lack of response. "Please get up!" You felt tears prick your eyes, your head swiveled around, looking for anyone to help. You weren't sure what to do, you felt hopeless. After you thought he was gone, his tail twitched at your side, gently curling up around your thigh weakly.

"Kurt??" You asked quickly, glancing down at him. You could see the exhaustion on his face, the weakness, but he nodded back. He gave you a weak smile, his yellow eyes soft and pure.

"Liebe..." he whispered back, his hand held yours and he pulled you closer. Your body naturally obeyed and you let your lips find his, both weakly pressing together as the two of you kissed for the first time. It felt so right, his hand cupped your face and his tail wrapped around you, being so weak but loving all at the same time.

You hadn't noticed the other townspeople had been watching from the trees, seeing how gentle and sweet you were to him. They could see that Kurt didn't resemble a creature of Hell like they thought, while he did seem odd looking, he didn't look to be horrific as they predicted. Their imaginations took over and the tall tales took over their logic.

When you broke the kiss, he smiled up at you. "You....came back..." he rasped, he was hurt still, but he was okay. He'd live. That's all you needed to know.

"Of course I came back...I told you I would..." you whispered sweetly, guilt gnawed at your core, "If I hadn't left then..."

Kurt cut you off, shushing you, "Nein, liebe...do not worry...the church can be rebuilt...I am going to be fine. What's another small scar? My fur will cover it anyway." He added, giving you a playful smile.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, "Oh, Kurt...don't make me laugh right now..." You muttered, some of the onlookers came to aid you in bringing him to the town to get treatment from the doctor there. You knew he'd be okay. The awful stories were debunked and the town appeared to accept him.

You had your love, safe and sound, and the real demon of the town had been snuffed to ash.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

#kurt wagner #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #xmen #x men #x men 97 #🎠my works

430 notes · View notes

hispg · 1 year ago

Text

My sweet friend

Pairings: Best friend Leon! x fem! Reader

Wc: 2.2k

Summary: After a party you decided to sleep in your best friend's house, little do you know that sleeping is the last thing that he'll do.

Warnings: Porn without plot, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, dub-con, drunk sex, dirty thoughts, a bit of dirty talk, shameless smut.

He was shirtless, just wearing his sweatpants, all at ease as he waited for the episode to finish.

Another quiet evening in Leon's apartment. He was just lazing around watching some series on TV. It was his day off, so he was making the most of it.

He wasn't one for staying up late, and considering it was already half past ten at night, it was high time he fell asleep.

He was about to doze off on the sofa when he heard the doorbell ring. This puzzled him since he hadn't invited anyone to his apartment that night.

Sleepily, he got up from the sofa and headed for the door. He opened it while rubbing his eyes, not even paying attention to who was waiting for him.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite police officer!" You say in a slightly raspy, slurred voice. You were very loud that night.

He opens his eyes, noticing your figure. He was used to these visits from you. After all, you were best friends, but he'd never seen you so loose like this.

"Uhm, what are you doing here?" The question came quietly from his lips, although he kept a sweet smile for you.

Of course, he heard when you started talking, but paying attention to what you were saying was another story. His eyes traveled down your body, and seeing the way your curves were being hugged by your tight black dress was simply immoral.

He took a deep breath, remembering every detail. It wasn't hard to guess that you were coming from a party, and you looked so beautiful.

"Mhmmm, Leon! Will you let me in?" You whimpered slyly, throwing yourself into his arms.

"Ugh, you stink of alcohol." He grumbles, gently dragging you inside.

All you did was mumble some nonsensical things, which frankly Leon didn't even try to pay attention to. He just dragged you into his room, laying you on the bed.

You needed that, just as you would need him the next day. He swore to God he was trying not to look at you, but the way your curves were so exposed in that dress.

He shouldn't have, but he could already feel his blood pulsing in his lower body. As a precaution, he decided that he would sleep on the sofa for the night until he heard your whimper.

"Am I going to sleep alone? No! What if there's a monster under the bed?" You said in the same drunken, raspy voice. He wondered how much you'd had to drink that night. And for making the situation more amusing somehow, you sat on the bed and pouted at him.

He hides a laugh from you, finding your childish behavior comical, to say the least.

"Ok, I'll sleep here. But if you kick me out of bed, I'll throw you out. Do you hear me?" Leon whispers jokingly, sticking his tongue out at you.

You nod desperately, pulling him into bed with you. He falls onto the bed gently, snuggling into his side.

And once you lay back down on his bed, he can't help but look at you with the most pleading eyes on earth. Even if you're not noticing it, too busy trying to be comfortable on his bed.

But he can't help it. The way your dress always lifts up a bit, threatening to show the curve of your ass. Fuck, too exciting for him not pay attention. He could end this, surely, just putting a blanket over you would solve the problem.

And that's exactly the point, he don't want to solve the problem.

He preferred to stay on his side of the bed, looking at your ass bouncing every time you tried to get on a comfortable position, the way that the dress drawns your curves so damn perfectly.

He swear to God that he's trying to not think about it, but the way that his cock is throbbing on his pants says otherwise. He even grabs a pillow, softly rubbing against his erection, hoping that this helps him to ease a little.

Didn't take long for him to get mad about it, why instead of the pillow, it couldn't be that pretty mouth of yours? That pretty plump, pink lips of yours? Damn, the way that it would fit perfectly around his cock.

Or even better, what if he can use that pretty pussy of yours? He can bet that your pussy it's just pretty as you.

Without even noticing, his hands slipped through his pants, his fingers rubbing the tip of his hard cock. And he can already feel the considerable amount of pre-cum sliding down on this dick, messing his thighs on the process.

When he felt what he was doing, he stopped himself, thinking about how wrong it was. No, it was too dirty to do that while you were beside him.

He breathed heavily, trying to focus on getting his composure back. He got his phone, and started to scroll it, praying that this give him some sleep, so he can just close his eyes and rest, even if he doubt that he's going to be able to sleep this night.

A couple of minutes later, he felt a bit more calm, taking deep breaths and trying his best to not think about you. But when he turned to your side, his mouth fell open, eyes widening at the sight.

There you were, laying on your stomach, your dress was now at your waist, giving him a perfect angle of your bare ass cheeks. His mind goes wild, seeing how round and plump they're.

And then again, he felt his cock hardening, so damn hard that he can see it through the sheets.

"Fuck me.." He murmured, drooling at the magnificent sight of your bare ass.

His hands trembled, and he was willing to at least give a squeeze on that ass, he can't control himself. It was such a hot sin in front of him.

And well, before he even realized his hand was on his cock, palming himself to get some relieve.

His another hand roaming in your arms, gently caressing it. He can't believe how much he gets aroused only by such a simple touch like this. He felt your soft skin under his fingertips, and it was so damn smooth.

You shivered at his touch, even if you were sleeping, just one involuntary action. As if even when you were sleeping, you still wanted his touch.

He couldn't help, letting out a soft whimper while he was jerking off, feeling so excited over you. He can't contain himself, too much for him.

Finally, his hands reached your lower back, and he started to play with the waistband of your panties, wanting to desperately feel what's underneath.

Slipping his hand down further, he gets to touch your ass cheek. Dragging his fingers over it, rubbing and giving little squeezes. Feeling the soft flesh of your ass.

And shit, he felt so turned on by that. Cock twitching and pulsing on his hand, he's sure that once he come, it's going to be a thick,long load. He's more than sure of it.

You stirred, shifting your ass a bit more up, stretching yourself a bit, soon turning back to your normal position.

And then again, Leon whimpered, hand dangerously close to your covered pussy, fingers roaming eagerly your ass, wavering around each centimeter.

That purked little cunt, that he desperately wants to suck and lick until you're begging him to stop. That little cunt that he wants to fuck over and over, and fill it up with his cum.

In an impulsive thought, his hands slide to your already wet folds, not touching it directly. The tip of his indicator finger stroking it above your soaked panties, and he was whining so damn much right now.

He keeps telling himself that this is wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this. But hell, if is this bad, why you're so fucking wet? There is no way that you didn't want this, too.

The way that you started to rub your thighs together, pressing them against each other so tightly. This was the bit of sight that he needed, and well, he would keep going.

He kept stroking his cock with one hand, he was trying his best to not cum that fast, but he can't help it. When he entered his finger on you, feeling your tight wet walls sucking him in, he whined loudly, more than he should.

Words can't describe how relieved he felt knowing that you were a deep sleeper this night, maybe from the tiredness along with the fact that you were a bit drunk. Enough to knock you down on this bed.

Then again he slipped another finger, whimpering at the sensation of your tight little cunt. Wanting so bad that it was his cock instead.

His fingers started to grind you, moving at a slow and steady pace. Feeling your gummy and velvety walls embrace him tightly.

"Mhm.." There it was, your sweet voice moaning at his touch.

You started to stir, drowsy opening your eyes. Your eyes nervously darts around, while Leon look at you with a soft smile, as if he wasn't doing anything. But you could clearly feel how hot it was between your legs, you could feel your fluids dripping down your thighs.

Too bad you were too tired to protest, not that you were against it either. Not least because as soon as you realized what he was doing, you swung your hips towards him, thrusting in a way that made what he was doing easier.

Another sweet whimper escapes his lips, his fingers start to move faster. In and out, curving around and hitting your sweet spots. By then, you were buried in the pillow, letting out sleepy cries and moans, and that made him even hornier.

Just seeing that you accepted him even though you were in such a vulnerable state made him lose his mind easily. And without waiting long, he asked you, "Do you want me to rock you?"

It seemed like an innocent proposal at first, not that you were in the best state of mind.

But all you did was nod, wanting him to rock you to sleep. He quickly withdrew his fingers from you, making you whimper at the emptiness you felt.

He licked his fingers, savoring the taste of your sweet honey. And indeed it was just as he imagined, you were as sweet and delicious as honey.

And then he pulled you to him, your back against his chest, one of his hands finding your hips, pushing them forward a little.

In one swift movement, he shoved his cock into you. With one strong, deep thrust, he was all the way inside you.

Only now did you understand what he meant, it wasn't a proposal to go to sleep.

He was going to rock into you.

"Mhmh, Leon..." You moan softly, your fingers curling into the pillow.

"Shh, I'll put you to sleep." He whispers in a little whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the way your pussy nestled his cock so well.

This was better than you imagined, him thrusting gently while holding you by the waist, moving in and out.

He whimpered so much, it was so good the way your spongy walls gripped him, pulled him in.

The poor thing was so needy that he couldn't stop touching you, kissing your neck, biting and licking the soft skin.

Just as he stroked your clit from time to time, only to feel your little hole clench around him.

"I'm close." You moaned a little louder, your nails sinking into the pillow.

He growled in your ear, squeezing your waist and thrusting in without warning. He knew he was close too, and surely he couldn't wait to come inside you, to fill you with his cum until you couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm going to fill you up, until my cum starts leaking out." He murmurs, rocking his hips at an abnormal speed. Moving back and forth without stopping.

"Mhmhmm, ah, ah..." You babble, not even making the effort to speak a single sentence.

"Getting fucking drunk on that cock, aren't you?" He groans, thrusting into your weak spot, making you see stars every time.

Enough for you to fall apart, calling his name again and again, your walls slapping against his cock, spilling everything you had to offer.

That was the last straw for him too, you could feel the first spurts inside you. And just as he imagined, it was a long load, he can see it running down your wet folds. He gives you a satisfied smile, seeing what he's wanted to see for ages.

You were breathing heavily, your lips parted, and your eyes closed. He was almost in the same state, except he was wide awake.

He kisses your cheek, pulling the covers over you both, not even bothering to clean up around here.

"Sleep well, sweetheart." He whispers, tucking you into the same big spoon position.

Giving you a tight hug and light kisses on the neck, and that's how it went until you both fell asleep.

Being honest? He couldn't wait for the next day, because he was going to do it all over again.

Oh, how he would.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil

1K notes · View notes

toram-toram · 5 months ago

Note

Okay I have a little idea on sleazy tallman chilchuck

Im just gonna say, the changing shrooms + tallman chilchuck and half-foot you (reader?)

idk big dick/small hole

•Anon, after the changing mushrooms episode that's all I could think of.

•I want this man to lift me by the armpits, press my back against a wall, put my legs over his shoulders and eat me out.

•And you KNOW HES PACKING.

Chilchuck x GN Reader

Size difference, pervert old man, multiple orgasms, oral sex, fingering

In order to make it fit (at least most of it inside), he has to make you cum at least once, to make you relaxed, open and ready.

But of course, Chilchuck wants to make you cum at least 2/3 times before finally putting his dick inside you.

He first eats you out with his much larger mouth and tongue that swallows your most sensitive area.

"HmmMmMMm~~~"

His moans reverberate through your organs and the vibration makes you closer and closer to the edge.

One of his hands is on your waist and it holds your entire body weight as he's inhaling your scent with much frustration due to his weaker senses. That's probably the only thing he hates about this body right now.

He completely devours you in a span of minutes.

And after tongue fucking/sucking you off until you cum, he lays you down and crawls on top of you. Caressing your body and admiring how beautiful you look as a half foot.

His dominant hand goes down and reaches your overstimulated and drenched hole, then, using the palm of his hand, he put some delicious pressure over it, his skin feels like fire as it's touching your nerves. And when he starts to rub it against you, it feels like heaven, and you have to spend the next 7/10 minutes begging for him to fuck you.

He could have make it you beg more, but he wasn't a monster! You were asking him so desperately! Poor thing... If you needed his finger inside your pretty little hole, he would gladly give it to you!

But only one.

He will fuck you hard and fast with one finger. And he won't listen to your spoiled comments about how it's not enough.

Spoiled brat.

You're going to drench his entire hand and forearm with your juices with one finger and that's it. No more. No less.

And that's exactly what you do.

He's so proud of you. See? One finger WAS enough.

Now it's time for the real deal.

Truth is, Chilchuck didn't want it to open you up so much before that. He wants to spread you open with his cock. To almost tear you up in half. To feel your extremely tight walls against him, clenching and spasming around him. That's what he truly wants.

So he asks you to get on your hands and knees and easily spreads your ass cheeks with his thumbs to get a better view of your pretty and spent hole. He aligns his red swallowed head with it and slowly slides it in.

"Oooooohhhh.... fffuuuuuckk"

He needs to control the amount of strength he's using to squeeze your ass otherwise things would get ugly.

It feels impossible to slide in.

Just like how it feels impossible to breathe right now.

It's too much. Too little. Too tight.

But with short and controlled thrusts, he's able to go deeper and deeper.

He watches his cock going back and forth and inside your much much smaller entrance with excitement and surprise.

"Holy shit sweetheart... I wish you could see this... I never thought it would fit in."

However, it doesn't fit all in.

But Chilchuck is sure that, in many more opportunities in the future, your body would be more accustomed to it. So it's probable that you will be able to take the other half in future attempts.

He'll make sure you will.

Eventually you're relaxed enough, and he's able to easily slide in and out inside you. The sensation leaves you speechless.

Mouth open wide and eyes rolled back like you've been possessed.

Your entire skin feels like fire and your drool and juices coming out of you burns like lava.

You only start to make incomprehensible noises when you're once again close to cumming.

"What is it, sweetheart? Already close?"

Your brain feels like mush, words are not forming on your lips, instead you're almost growling by how ragged your moans sound.

You start to move your hips to meet his dick and he chokes out a moan.

"Fucking hell, kid... you're going to be the death of me."

His speed increases and you can feel his cock somehow going deeper to the point it hurts, but somehow it feels so good.

"Oh my god,baby, you're taking me so well. Holy shit, I'm... going to tear you apart... do you want me to do that?"

"yyyeEeEeeeesssssssspleasepleaseplease"

Your brain automatically responds and it affects so much Chilchuck that he's already about to cum.

"Going to... fill you to the brim"

He speed increases and your body starts convulsing, muscles failing on you as you almost faints.

Vision goes white as you lay face on the floor, cumming so hard, so much, it almost feels like your peeing.

Chilchuck follows though as he thrusts inside you one last time and milks himself inside your tight hole.

He loses balance but catches himself before crashing in top of you.

~~~~

He looks at the state of both of your bodies as he desperately catches his breath.

"Hey... you alive?"

You don't respond.

He pulls his hips out of you and as soon as you're empty, his cum flows freely and travels down to your legs.

And it's a vision to behold.

He reaches for your ribcage with trembling hands and lifts you up, putting you sitting on his lap, back facing his chest. Ignoring the fact that you're completely filthy at the moment.

Okay that's a lie, he doesn't ignore it, in fact, he's paying much attention to it.

Because it gives him such an amazing sense of accomplishment and pride.

He loves the fact that you're completely drenched, spent and tired.

You took him marvelously.

You're so perfect for him...

Since both of you are incapable of getting up, Chilchuck moves your hair out of your ears, and gently starts to suck on it, knowing how good it feels for a half foot.

"You were so good, I'm so proud of you."

------------//--------------

•Sorry it took me longer to respond! As you can see I spend a good amount of time writing and editing but I hope it was worth the wait!

•Also fun fact, a day after this request, another lovely anon sent me such a similar prompt!! It's so nice that we all share the same brain cell lol💚

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #chilchuck #chilchuk dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #tall man chilchuck #dunmeshi fanfic #x reader #toramfanfic

163 notes · View notes

poisonlove · 11 months ago

Text

Beauty and the Beast | w.a

Pairing: wednesday addams x reader

Words: 15k

Warning: reader unsure about her appearance

I felt lonely, so lonely.

But I couldn't risk anyone being scared by my appearance, I couldn't risk receiving mockery and laughter for what I hide beneath the mask. I had to protect myself and others from the horrible monster that I am.

Not even Eugenie, one of my few friends, knew my true face, and I don't think he'll find out anytime soon. Enid tried a couple of times, but after my umpteenth No she gave up, which I'm grateful for.

Why did it have to happen to me? Why do I have to feel scrutinized because of the mask I wear? Damn it, there are vampires, mermaids, and even people without mouths, and yet I'm the only strange one in Nevermore?

"Y/n, have you heard that a new student has arrived?" Eugenie smiles with all thirty-two teeth as he walks beside me, his eyes gleaming with happiness at the news. "Is it really important?" I ask timidly, biting my lower lip amused by his reaction.

"An extra girl is always welcome," he sighs dreamily. "Maybe she'll even like bees, don't you think?" He asks hopefully.

I tilt my head to the side and watch Eugenie smile widely, hope in his eyes. "I…" I start, feeling a pressure in my chest from his enthusiasm, "I guess so?" I say, chuckling timidly, not wanting to spoil my friend's good mood.

"I mean, I adore you, really," Eugenie says, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "but having one more girl in our group would be cool!" He says, analyzing me carefully.

"It's just the two of us… We're not even a trio, and you're talking about a group?" I roll my eyes at his comment, and Eugenie gives me a friendly elbow on the side.

"There's no use rolling your eyes, you know I can see you, right? I mean… besides your mouth, and the other thing that can be seen under the mask," he says sing-song, looking at my mask reluctantly.

"And anyway! We're three!" The boy pouts adorably.

"Really?" I ask in surprise, and Eugenie nods. "Enid," he says, smiling in love at the mention of the blonde werewolf.

I open my mouth ready to retort, but I just ended up sighing loudly.

"Y/n," I turn towards the sound of the voice and see Enid gesturing for me to come closer to her. I raise an eyebrow with confusion and look at Eugenie shrugging indifferently. "Go on, I'll go check on my bees," he says, giving me a pat on the shoulder and walking towards his target, humming a tune.

I approach Enid, who smiles excitedly. "Hi Enid, everything okay?" I ask with a small smile on my lips.

"Y/n! I finally found you!" Enid exclaims, "I have some great news to tell you. You see, the new student is named Wednesday Addams and she'll be my new roommate!"

I feel a knot in my stomach at the thought of facing a new acquaintance, but I try to remain calm. "Wednesday Addams?" I repeat, trying to hide the anxiety that begins to creep up inside me.

"Exactly!" Enid confirms enthusiastically, "It would be fantastic if you two could become friends. I know you're a bit reserved, but I'm sure you'll get along well together!" The blonde smiled widely, her blue eyes looking at me attentively.

I try to mask my discomfort in front of Enid's enthusiasm, but inside, I feel a growing sense of unease. It's not fear, it's just a deep reluctance to interact with new people, especially when I have to hide my true identity behind a mask.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" I ask uncertainly, the memory of Yoko staring at me strangely still vivid in my mind, sending shivers down my spine. I look at Enid curiously, seeking reassurance.

"With Yoko, it was just a small mishap," Enid replies, laughing nervously, able to read what I was thinking during my silence. "It's not your fault if you're so different."

"Right," I mumble to myself, still troubled by the memory of the episode with Yoko.

"I think it'll be different," continues Enid, placing her hand on my arm and starting to walk towards our dorms, "Wednesday has a… special character. You might like her," she adds with a broad smile.

"Are you telling me she's strange?" I ask, feeling offended by her description. Enid looks at me sideways, trying to reassure me.

"No, I didn't mean that," Enid clarifies, "just that she's also shy, and I think you two could get along," she concludes, smiling happily.

"But do we have to go now?" I ask with a worried tone, feeling the need to mentally prepare for the impending meeting. "Of course! I talked about you when she arrived, I think she's writing now," Enid babbles thoughtfully.

"She's writing?" I ask incredulously, a small smile threatening to spread across my lips. The thought of someone actually writing seems surreal to me.

"You see? You haven't even met yet and you already have something in common," Enid says, smiling kindly and looking at me with eyes overflowing with happiness.

As we head towards Ophelia Hall, nervousness grows inside me and my hands start to sweat. My heart beats faster and faster as the moment of meeting Wednesday approaches. I don't know what to expect, and the uncertainty makes me even more agitated.

Enid opens the door and my eyes immediately fall on the room divided in half by a black ribbon, separating two opposite worlds. Enid's side, bright and colorful, contrasts sharply with the darkness of the opposite side.

"The room is… Different," I say timidly, blinking in disbelief.

"Yeah, I was mad the first time too," Enid says with a reluctant sigh, evidently annoyed by the division of the room.

"Wednesday! I want to introduce you to someone," Enid announces, turning her gaze to her roommate on the other side of the ribbon.

Wednesday, focused on the typewriter, emits a small grunt before turning towards us with a rigid and impenetrable posture.

Her dark hair is braided into two impeccable braids that fall on her shoulders with precision and order. Her face is pale, almost ethereal, but her eyes are intense, deep, and penetrating. Her posture is rigid, but she exudes a silent confidence, as if she is aware of her inner power. The air around her seems filled with mystery and fascination, and even though her gaze is cold and distant, there is something about her that attracts and fascinates. It's as if she's enveloped in an aura of darkness, yet at the same time of strength and determination.

Her black eyes scan my figure, and I feel the warmth rising to my cheeks with embarrassment. Thank goodness Wednesday can't see it. I breathe deeply, relieved.

"What is she?" Wednesday asks with sharp curiosity, analyzing me with her gaze.

"Wednesday! You need to be more polite," Enid scolds her, but Wednesday ignores her with indifference.

My heart begins to beat faster as Wednesday approaches me, nervousness growing with each step she takes. Her presence, even silent, seems to envelop me in an atmosphere of mystery and tension, making me feel as if I'm under her scrutinizing gaze.

"You're not a vampire, a werewolf… not even a mermaid…" she mutters softly, her eyes scrutinizing mine intensely.

Her gaze is piercing, full of determination and fascination. "What are you?" she repeats, her voice neutral but curiosity palpable in the air.

I feel cornered, a knot forming in my throat, tightening.

Spontaneously, Wednesday reaches out and places her hands on my face, the tips of her fingers delicately touching my mask.

"Don't," I say in a low but sharp voice, trying to dissuade her.

Wednesday tilts her head slightly, ignoring my request, and brushes her fingers against the mask, exploring its texture with curiosity. Her hand wraps around my mask, and the contact sends shivers down my spine.

My breath becomes irregular as Wednesday continues to examine my mask with care, as if she wants to unveil the secret hidden beneath it. The touch of her fingers on my skin makes me feel vulnerable, exposed to her penetrating gaze.

"Please, stop," I whisper again, trying to control the agitation in my voice.

Wednesday doesn't seem at all disturbed by my request, continuing to explore the mask with an almost scientific curiosity. Her impassive face betrays no emotion, but I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I feel increasingly exposed in front of her.

"Wednesday, stop," says Enid firmly but gently, approaching us. "Y/n has her reasons for wearing that mask, and it's not right for you to force her to reveal it if she doesn't want to."

Wednesday turns to Enid, her cold and distant gaze piercing through her. "I'm not forcing anything," she replies calmly, "I'm just trying to understand."

Enid stands between me and Wednesday, shielding me with her body. "I understand, Wednesday, but there are better ways to get the answers you seek," she retorts, trying to defuse the situation.

I feel relieved by Enid's support, but at the same time anxious about how the situation will unfold.

After a moment of tense silence, Wednesday turns her back and walks away, heading towards the desk with measured steps. A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I sink into a nearby chair.

"What an embarrassing moment," I say with a nervous smile, trying to break the ice.

Enid approaches and places a hand on my shoulder with an expression of solidarity. "Don't worry, Y/n. Wednesday can be a bit… intense at times," she comments with a half-smile.

"You said it," I reply with a small smile, grateful for Enid's support.

On the other side of the room, the incessant ticking of Wednesday's typewriter continues unabated, creating a constant background to our conversation. Her silent presence seems to have added a new dimension to the room, making it even more charged with mystery and tension.

"What do you say we go for a walk outside?" Enid suggests, trying to distract my mind from tumultuous thoughts.

"That sounds like a good idea," I respond with a grateful smile, happy to escape from that tense atmosphere. We rise and leave the room, leaving behind the constant ticking of Wednesday's typewriter.

She seems like an interesting girl I thought to myself

but she really doesn't give up

(…)

Weeks have passed since that first tense encounter with Wednesday, yet her obsession with uncovering what lay beneath my mask showed no signs of abating. Occasionally, during classes or in moments of break, I catch her staring at me with her piercing gaze, as if she wanted to pierce through the fabric of my mask and read my deepest thoughts.

Wednesday doesn't give up easily. She made various attempts: sending anonymous messages, appearing out of nowhere at the most unexpected times, sending Things, and even trying to remove my mask with a sudden gesture. Her questions become more frequent and casual, as if she wanted to uncover my secret through the most mundane conversation.

Flashback

During a break between classes, while I was sitting alone in a corner of the cafeteria, I felt a presence approaching. I looked up and saw Wednesday with her mysterious and aloof demeanor.

"May I sit here?" she asked calmly, indicating the seat across from me.

"Of course, go ahead," I replied, surprised by her sudden company.

Wednesday sat down with a fluid and silent movement, and for a moment we simply looked at each other, without saying a word. Then, without a smile or a greeting nod, she said, "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you," I replied, trying to hide my surprise at finding her there.

That brief conversation remained imprinted in my mind for days, like an unsolved riddle. Yet, despite her seemingly insatiable interest in my mask, Wednesday did not seem at all frightened or disgusted by me. She was just… curious.

Flashback end

But then, without any warning, Wednesday stops altogether circling around me. She no longer approaches me with her questions or scrutinizing looks. I was left to wonder:

was I boring? Rude? Was I just being paranoid?

"It seems like she's gotten tired of you," Enid jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe she's finally realized that beneath that mask, it's just you, and nothing so terrifying."

Enid's joke made me smile, but it didn't completely dissipate the tension that had built up inside me. I was nervous about the various conjectures swirling in my head, and I literally asked myself too many questions that had no answer.

"Thank goodness you found something to laugh about," I remarked, trying to conceal my mood.

Enid looked at me with a sympathetic expression. "You know, Y/n, I think you're reading too much into things. Maybe Wednesday has just found something else to focus on, or maybe she's decided she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable."

I wanted to believe Enid's words, but doubt continued to nag at me. "Maybe you're right," I replied, trying to convince myself.

"I promise that if there's anything to worry about, I'll let you know," Enid said sincerely, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I felt somewhat relieved by her promise, but I knew that until I had answers to my questions, my mind would continue to race incessantly. It was frustrating not knowing what was going through Wednesday's mind, but I had to find a way to stop tormenting myself with suppositions and hypotheses.

That afternoon, I found myself in Enid's room, determined to clear things up with Wednesday. The tension in the air was palpable as I tried to gather the courage to confront the situation.

"Wednesday, can I talk to you?" I asked, trying to stay calm despite my pounding heart.

The girl looked up from the book she was reading and glanced at me with detachment. "Sure," she replied simply, showing no sign of interest. Her eyes returned to the pages of the book she was reading.

"Why aren't you talking to me anymore?" I asked, feeling my voice tremble slightly with emotion.

Wednesday didn't even look up from her book. "I can't be friends with a girl who doesn't show her face," she said coldly, as if it were obvious.

Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. "You can't really think like that," I replied, trying to control my growing frustration. "I'm not just my mask, Wednesday. There's much more beneath it."

Wednesday remained impassive, and her indifference deeply hurt me. "You don't even listen to me," I whispered, feeling my heart breaking.

The girl didn't respond, continuing to read as if I were invisible. Frustration and anger welled up inside me, but in the end, I gave up.

With a sigh, I realized I had to accept the situation for what it was. "Maybe you're right," I admitted softly. "But you can't judge without knowing the truth." Wednesday looked up from her book, looking at me with a certain curiosity. "And what would the truth be?" she asked, her eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"The truth… I'm afraid," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat as my hands trembled slightly. With determination, I placed them on the mask, ready to reveal what I had hidden for so long.

Damn feelings I developed for you, persistent Goth I thought bitterly.

Wednesday watched carefully, her black eyes scrutinizing my face with intense curiosity. My heart pounded in my chest, silently praying that she would accept what she was about to see.

With a deep breath, I slowly removed the mask, revealing my true face. Behind it, a hideous scar extended from my eyebrow to my cheek, thankfully sparing my eye. It was a wound I had carried for years, a witness to a painful past that I had never shared with anyone.

Wednesday remained still, her eyes fixed on my scar. Her expression was inscrutable, but I could see surprise in her eyes.

The scar was large and deep, and I couldn't help but feel vulnerable as Wednesday examined it. But there was no more room to hide the truth, and I had to accept her judgment, whatever it may be.

Wednesday closed the book and approached me slowly, her gaze still fixed on the scar adorning my face. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and shyness, as if she were unsure of what to do or say.

"Can I touch it?" she asked in a barely audible voice, and I nodded weakly, feeling my cheeks flush at her question.

With cautious movements, Wednesday came even closer, her fingers delicately touching my scarred skin. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact, but it wasn't disgust or fear. It was a feeling of calm and acceptance, as if that gesture meant something deeper than just physical contact.

I looked at her face as she examined the scar. Her eyes were full of empathy and understanding, and I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. It was as if I had finally found someone who truly understood me, without judging or condemning.

It was hard to believe that all this had happened because I had fallen in love with her. But now, looking at her up close like this, I realized that maybe it was worth risking my heart for someone who made me feel so alive and accepted.

"How did you get it?" Wednesday asked timidly, slightly clenching her jaw as she continued to observe the scar on my face.

My voice trembled slightly. "It was done by my father," I confessed, feeling the lump in my throat tighten. "He was drunk and one night he lost control."

My voice broke slightly as I remembered those painful moments, the fear and despair I had felt. But I knew I had to share the truth with Wednesday, even if it hurt to revisit those memories.

Wednesday gently caressed my cheek, the touch of her fingers on my scarred skin sending a slight shiver down my spine. "Why did you keep it hidden?" she asked with curiosity, her gaze still full of compassion.

"It's horrible…" I replied softly, feeling the weight of my words. "When everyone looked at me strangely or laughed, I decided to cover it up."

Wednesday's finger brushed against the scar on my eyebrow and a shiver ran down my spine. It was as if that simple gesture was breaking down the barriers I had built around me for years.

"It makes you strong," said Wednesday, tilting her head to the side as she looked at me intently. "And you're… Beautiful all the same."

Her words struck me deeply, and I felt my cheeks blush slightly at her unexpected compliment. It was hard to believe that someone could find beauty in that ugly scar, but with Wednesday beside me, I began to see myself with different eyes.

"Thank you," I replied sincerely, my heart filled with gratitude for her kindness. It was a moment of intimacy and sharing that I would never forget.

"Does Enid know?" Wednesday asked with curiosity, and I shook my head.

"No," I replied, feeling a shiver of nervousness run through my body.

"Are you afraid of her reaction?" she asked timidly, and I nodded slowly.

"If she says something, I'll kill her," said Wednesday with a serious tone, and I couldn't help but smile, feeling for the first time confident and beautiful for myself.

And beautiful for Wednesday.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #miércoles addams #wednesday addams x you #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams gifs #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday x y/n #beauty and the beast #Pain #be not afraid #i'm afraid of americans

324 notes · View notes

deadbeat-motel · 8 months ago

Text

ᑕᕼEᖇᖇIᗷOᗰᗷ ᗩᑎᗪ ᔕIᖇᑭEᑎTIOᑌᔕ ᖇEᗪEᔕIGᑎ

The last two designs for the main cast. With these two done, I can finally work on miscellaneous characters that I've been eyeing the most.

Again, thoughts below the cut:

My issues with their Original designs:

Sir Pentious:

I thought I would only have one thing to say about him (the unnecessary eyes) since he was my favorite in the entire original cast but having taken a closer look at him for this, I saw a lot of things that bothers me.

Too many eyes. specifically the lower half of his body has too many eyes and it seems detrimental to him. It's kind of painful to think about it since I do not think we ever see those eyes close. Is he just slithering on the ground with those exposed eyes? That's got to be irritating at best and damaged at worst as he continuously slithers on them.

There are eyes on the bowtie and the hat? There are already 4 extra eyes on his hood, so why have even more? I get that the original Pentious design was basically a monsterous amalgamation of eyes but the eye thing could have been scrapped altogether.

While his palette was the least red out of the cast (More so composed of yellows), it still blends in with the rest of the reds.

The claws are an unnecessary repeating design trait (Alastor and Vox notably have them too). I don't think it would've been too big of a difference to just keep his fingers fully black.

The stripes on his suit are too thick. It's called pinstripes for a reason.

I don't like how the hat is shaped to fit the head, It's awkward.

not a point, but I just wanted to say how the blue color palette works really well with him in that last episode.

CherriBomb:

She's not that bad of a design (She's sort of bland in my opinion) but it's the little small details about her that makes her so simple and also so complicated at the same time. There are so many batches of freckles scattered everywhere, little explosion lines on her skirt as well as the X on her chest, the tattoos are a jamble of random loops and bombs, and her tattering doesn't have an easy shape to consistently draw.

The thought process for these two:

Mx. Pentious:

Pentious goes by both Sir/Miss/Mx. but uses she/they pronouns.

Minimized the actual amount of eyes on her, I kept it only to her actual eyes and those on her hood.

Gave her a butterfly-shaped hood. It's nothing deep since it stems from the fact the notches in Sir Pentious' hood almost looked like one to my bad eyesight. I decided to play more into that idea.

I read some posts where people talk about how Sir Pentious should have a snout and while I understand why and fully support people giving him one, I really didn't want to add the snout to this design. It drove me crazy since I'm not a big fan of it. I tried a compromise where her head was shaped more like Phineas.

Kept the tophat but removed its eye and mouth. If I remember correctly, Viv took that from one of her co-workers from the pilot. I decided to just have it as a regular tophat.

It doesn't have all the colors, but her design does have the Neptunic flag.

I'm not sure if this even is a real snake but I based Mx. Pentious' design on this:

CherriBomb:

Scraped most of her features in exchange for a sukeban theme. I personally have zero knowledge about the punk scene in Australia.

A majority of the suggestions I received for her rough draft had something to do with the skirt. I elongated it and gave it a slit in which the magenta from the inside is able to pop out.

Thought it would be a cute detail to have her hair explode if she's angry.

----

Apologies this took too long to be posted, Life got in the way as well as the fact I was feeling shitty about Pentious' first draft. Her skin was an awkward and ugly shade of green and seeing some posts critical of Pentious' design got me to think a little bit more about what direction I'd like to move her redesign.

You could see this in the earlier rough sketches but this was how Pentious' first redesign looked like

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel redesign #deadbeat motel mrx. pentious #deadbeat motel cherribomb #deadbeat motel redesign #//I only came back from the dead to post these Neptunic Lesbians on pride month/j //#//Happy pride to everyone btw!!//

330 notes · View notes

mulders-too-large-shirt · 23 days ago

Text

my favorite scully and mulder moments from s5

in episode 1, mulder sneakily enters scully's apartment. he sits in the dark in silence; as she gets undressed for bed, he says “keep going, FBI woman”, which only slightly surprises her (her face is shocked, but she doesn't yell; just asks "mulder? what are you doing? why are you sitting in my bedroom in the dark?" which is an incredibly reasonable question! he tells her that he killed a man, and she thinks he is joking, so he clarifies that he isn't)

scully waking up in the hospital bed in episode 2 to mulder by her side- she’s worried someone will see him as they just spent a good amount of time faking his death, but he smiles, grabs her hand, sits on the bed, and kisses her cheek, saying “i’m officially among the undead” (WAHHHH)

(and when she is so worried about how he will have to confess everything, including killing that guy, he does his best to prevent her from dwelling on it- “hey scully, how about those yankees?”)

how she very seriously warns him that skinner is the guy on the inside, and he’s touching her face, saying no, he’s not; mulder knows that skinner made the deal with CSM, but she doesn't know he risked his career and life to save her

and then she offers to take the fall for shooting that guy, saying “mulder, if i can’t save you, let me at least give some meaning to what’s happened to me” (tears. TEARS)

(and when her family arrives to visit her in the hospital, he says he was just leaving, giving her one last kiss on the hand before heading out)

mulder coming by her bedside again after considering taking CSM’s deal to join the dark side, but ultimately refusing: “then why’d you come here if you’d already made up your mind?” she asks, and he laughs: “because i knew you’d talk me out of it if i was making a mistake” (the total trust they have in each other......)

when mulder leaves for his big hearing, she tells him that he’ll be in her prayers (and he kisses her cheek once more, telling her to ask the “father to say a few hail mulders for me, okay?”)

(she is literally laying in bed dying, and despite him never understanding her beliefs and her having, you know, imminent death on her own doorstep, she talks to god about him. intervening with the creator on his behalf. and he, instead of being dismissive of religion like he usually is, accepts the help with a joke and a kiss on the cheek... i feel like i could write a poem on the subject and my emotions still wouldn't be fully expressed)

they’re in the car on the way to a team building seminar in episode 4, and mulder leans over to scully, asking her to please kill him now

however, she immediately realizes he's come up with a new plan to get out of the whole thing by investigating a case: “you want me to tell them that you’re not going to make it to this year’s teamwork seminar?” (he grabs her shoulders, bending over a little to meet her eye level) “yeah. you see that? we don’t need that conference. we have communication like that, unspoken. you know what i’m thinking”

scully trying to start a fire to keep him warm after his body goes into shock- she asks if he has ever thought about dying, saying she was angry while she was sick, and talking about the struggle to give suffering meaning. and then after he makes some joke to get her laughing, she picks up him, placing his head in her lap (“i don’t wanna wrestle”, he mumbles, to which she replies “get over here. i’m trying to keep you warm”)

he asks her to sing as they cuddle, so he can know that she is awake and keeping watch. and then when she indulges him, his whiny ass requests the chorus, too <3

when he wakes up he is so scared to see that she isn’t there, but she was just getting some berries LMAO

mutual roasting in episode 5; she says she thinks the townspeople are so bored and obsessed with what they see on TV that they’re imagining a monster, to which he responds “i am alarmed that you would reduce these people to a cultural stereotype”; when he is spouting frankenstein comparisons to the case, she hits him with the “mulder, i’m alarmed you would reduce this man to a literary stereotype” <- they were having a nerd off!!!

“given the power, who could resist to create life in his own image?” “we already have that ability, mulder; it’s called procreation”

and the famous black and white dancing scene to cher music <3

in episode 7, mulder offers to stay with her while emily is dying, rubbing her back as he says so. but she says she wants to do this alone, so he walks away, and she climbs into emily’s bed

and at the funeral, when scully’s mother asks her if she is ready to go, she says she will stay a little while longer and get a ride back with mulder. soon after, she asks “who are the men who would create a life whose only hope is to die?”, and he answers “i don’t know. but that you found her… and you had a chance to love her… maybe she was meant for that, too” (doing his best to find the meaning in the suffering like they talked about in episode 4, because he knows she finds it incredibly difficult... yeah. and her choosing to spend more time with him than to go home and be with her family... whew)

scully refusing to let mulder fall for pusher’s tricks in episode 8, telling him to hang up the phone before he gets sucked into his games

linda bowman uses the same ability to push her will onto others to convince mulder that scully shot herself. he sees scully, begging him to make her stop, before she shoots herself and collapses. he screams, and imagines himself cradling her head. and when the real scully is in front of him, the mind tricks make mulder think that she is linda, so scully has to try and prove it is really her (“you killed her!” “your mother is tina. your sister is samantha. modell warned you- don’t play her game”). scully has enough time to save the day by shooting linda, and by the time he realizes it really is scully standing in front of him, she gently grabs his arm, calling for an ambulance. the terror of it all. and the loyalty that can inspire such terror...

in episode 9, she tries to explain how it would be physically possible for someone to swallow pounds of dirt, and he just smiles at her; “well… you asked me for answers. those are the best ones i’ve got” <-and listen, after his endless ghost and ghoul explanations, i think your lungs to dirt ratio sounds perfectly reasonable, scully

mulder also decides to dig up a grave in that episode, while scully warns him anything he finds will not be admissible in court. isn’t that just so Them? she’s not gonna stop him, but she will make sure he knows what they can and cannot use as evidence.

“i don’t think this was an act of grave robbing, scully” “no, that’s what we were doing” <- LMAO COME ON….

(there’s also a scene at the very end where mulder is stuck in endless mud and you can see scully helping him up, which greatly warmed my heart)

episode 10’s whole dynamic while scully is on vacation and he is back at the office, but especially this exchange over the phone:

“no, i don’t think it's witchcraft, mulder, or sorcery”

“yeah, well, maybe you don’t know what you’re looking for”

“like evidence of conjury or the black arts, or shamanism, divination, wicca, or any kind of pagan or neo-pagan practice? charms, cards, familiars, bloodstones or hex sins, or any of the ritual tableaux associated with the occult, santeria, vodoun, macumba, or any high or low magic?”

“scully?” “yes?” “marry me” “i was hoping for something a little more helpful” (i watched this scene 3 times because there was SO much to adore, including how serious his face was)

she finds him trapped inside an AI torture chamber in episode 11, and pulls him out, mumbling “you’re going to be okay, i’m going to get you out of here”, dragging his limp body to safety

scully walks into their office, where mulder is sitting, at the start of episode 12: “mulder…” “DON’T. don’t even start with me”

scully describing him as “characteristically exuberant” (“hope you brought your cowboy boots! yeehaw!") as she recounts what happened, and him describing her as “less than exuberant” (“well, obviously it’s not a vampire” “why not?” “because they don’t exist?”)

when scully tells mulder not to rule out what cassandra spender has to say in episode 13, she says the words slowly and carefully, and they lock eyes as he nods, recognizing the significance of the moment in terms of her own beliefs

when scully is in the hospital after the explosion in episode 14, mulder wakes her up by running his fingers through her hair, then giving her the gentlest smile; she asks what time it is, and he laughs- but this makes her self-conscious, so he explains “i’m not laughing at you. i’m just very happy to be standing here talking to you, that’s all” (screaming. btw)

(he then raises her bed a little so they can look at each other while he explains what happened, but a nurse shoos him away, saying she needs rest; he leaves with a thumbs up despite her yelling after him)

“the truth i’ve been searching for? the truth is in you” <- man hold on. hold on, man. MAN-

scully undergoing regression hypnotherapy to remember what happened to her during the explosion. mulder is sitting on the couch next to her, looking terrified as she screams. and despite not being fully present as she recalls the horrors, she taps at his hand next to hers on the couch, wordlessly asking him to hold it. when she comes to, she’s panting, and asks if he was there the whole time. he nods

and later they hold hands in the back of a cop car as they get taken to jail <3

scully breaking into mulder’s motel room while he is undercover in episode 18; he screams at her to get out, and denies being undercover, even though skinner told her everything. she stops his yelling with a breathy “oh, mulder, what did they do to you?”, and sets his poor broken fingers as he winces

(and then she is able to recognize him on the tape of the bank heist despite being masked because of his fingers <3)

then they jointly scream in the CIA guy’s face because they realize he was testing bioweapons and killing civilians… synchronized rage looks good on them

mulder decides to go by himself to investigate the mysterious manifesto in episode 19. not even a minute after he walks out of the door from where he was questioning a witness, he calls her to ask her to look through all of the x files, searching for a specific phrase, which she finds. and then we get to hear him say “scully, at the risk of you telling me i told you so, i think it’s time for you to get down here and help me” “i told you so”, she says with a smile

later, he’s rambling about his bug conspiracy, still wearing the clothes that got all bloody from being taken hostage, and she asks if he has gotten any sleep

scully visiting mulder in the hospital after he goes off the deep end, seeing bug people everywhere, breaking into someone’s house, and attacking skinner; she slips her hand into his as he is restrained, telling him she hopes he can see through this delusion: “you have to be willing to see” “i wish it were that simple” “scully, you have to believe me. nobody else on this whole damn planet does or ever will. you’re my… one in five billion”

the hug at the end of episode 20 as they find the x files in ashes </3

#still screaming and crying over some of these in particular #like the fact that i did not imagine episode 4 and that it actually happened is still mind-boggling in the best way #also. her being self-conscious because he laughs when she asks what time it is after waking up from a coma.#and how he patiently explains he isn't laughing at her!!! he's just so happy to see her!!!#my babies?? can two grown adults be my babies?? it is possible!!!#also still losing it over her saying she will pray for him. like god. she meant it so deeply. and he could tell.#if i think about “hey scully how about those yankees?” for longer than 5 seconds i might actually combust btw #or how happy he is to see her. how wide his smile is. how she's worried about blowing his cover but he laughs and says he's undead #or the fact that when she is dying he tells skinner he's only half-dead..........#i need to bark and shake around a chew toy or something.#anyway! ftf tomorrow hopefully! i'll get a best s5 skinner moments as well hopefully this weekend but no promises #msr #the x files #txf

48 notes · View notes

thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.7 K Warnings: None. Prompt: It's a night to talk This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 27: Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Remus didn’t need to see your flushed cheeks nor did he need to hear your now slightly hoarse voice to realise what had happened behind the curtains. No, he would’ve noticed the moment you dipped back inside the cloak, you smelled divine, it was that combination of scents he just couldn’t get out of his head.

Unfortunately, he had realised earlier, not because he was trying to pry, but because he had a really keen sense of hearing, sometimes the perks of being a monster weren’t all that convenient. He had leaned into the wall as he heard Sirius kiss you. He had seen him do it so many times, he thought he should already be immune to it. But fuck did he wish he was you at that moment. Which made him feel like shit, yet again.

And then you came out, looking a little dizzy, trying to hide your stupid lovesick smile and he almost broke, how ever could he wish to take your place, when you looked so pretty like that? Sirius was lucky, you were lucky, and he was fucking miserable.

And then you turned to him, a mischievous smile on your face as you placed every single ounce of your attention on him and he almost forgot why he was feeling so luckless. “I believe you have a certain thing to show me…”

Remus, who was still a little fazed from all the emotions he had gone through in such a short period of time, had absolutely no idea what you were talking about “I do?” he asked.

You arched your eyebrows, tilting your head down just a little, Remus swallowed, how was it possible he had been so close to having a heart attack from Sirius earlier and now that he was looking at you, staring at him like that, he felt completely and utterly enamoured by you instead? He must have had some serious issues if his mind could switch just like that in a matter of minutes.

At the lack of response, you leaned towards him just a little, the same smile still playing on your lips, and you whispered “Something about a certain map I could finally see?”

Remus seemed to finally know what you were talking about “Ah, the map!” he said with a smile and pulled a piece of parchment, the same one he had tucked in while Sirius pulled you between them that night. He handed it to you, a rather satisfied smile as you looked at it, moving it around and unbending the pieces of parchment glued on top of each other to try and find the map, but it was empty.

You heard the boy chuckle and you narrowed your eyes at him, pulling your wand and placing it on top of the parchment “Revelio,” you whispered. Nothing happened. The boy chuckled again. You looked at him, mouth shut tight as he stared at you, clearly diverted. “Did you just hand me a blank piece of parchment to wind me up?”

He shook his head, his lips pressed tightly as he tried to suppress a smile. He took a step towards you, closing the already short distance the cloak allowed the two of you to keep, and he leaned down a little, “Wand on the parchment,” he said. You gave him another look but followed his instructions, “bit more in the centre,” he said as he grabbed your hand to place it where it should be.

You looked up at him, he was too focused on getting your hand in the right place to notice you were staring. He looked so pretty in the low light of the castle at night, his skin looking a little more golden and softer, the gilded specks in his eyes shining a bit more than normal. Britain really had gotten its hands on all the handsome bachelors of the century, there weren’t boys this pretty in your older school. You wondered if Alice knew how freaking lucky she was.

Remus leaned in just a little bit more, close enough for his mouth to brush on your ear as he whispered something, the whole thing sent a shiver down your spine, you were not expecting his slightly rough voice to sip into your brain like it did.

You gulped and nodded, he pulled back, and then you smiled, whispering “I solemnly swear, I’m up to no good.” Ink started appearing on the map, from the centre of your wand to all around it, you marvelled at the intricate details and letters drawn over the map.

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP”

You looked at the drawing of the Whomping Willow and awed at the details of text written on every branch, aside from being a map, it was a piece of art, worthy of display. You looked up at him, the astonishment evident in your eyes, he smiled proudly, he knew for a fact you’d be fascinated by it, and you hadn’t even seen the entire thing. “Open it,” he prompted.

You did as told, inside it was a detailed map of Hogwarts, from passageways to names of classrooms, to a way more elaborate version of the map Remus had drawn you a while back so you could feed your fireworms. You instantly recognized it and brushed your fingers over it, giving him a questioning look. He nodded, “There��s many more of them, the map has all the ones we’ve discovered.”

Then you noticed, the small star was moving in one of the passageways, there was a deer and a rat in the common room and there was a moon right where you stood. You took out the moon charm Remus had given you earlier, it had exactly the same shape. You smiled “You’ve tagged each other, that’s how you found me!”

He nodded, “Peter’s working on making one of you,” he said with a smile, “he’s using the charm of the necklace Sirius’ swiped from you a couple days ago.”

“But… that’s silver,” you added alarmed, “I thought he was taking it away because he knew it’d hurt you, like he did with the ring that day. I was going to get rid of it.”

Remus smiled, “He’s transfiguring it into aluminium, it’s too pretty for you to throw it away just because it hurts me.”

“Nothing will ever be ‘too pretty’ not to throw away if it hurts you, Remus.”

He cleared his throat after that, really trying to ignore the butterflies your words had made him feel. You thought of him as a friend, you were such a freaking incredible friend, why did he have to go and fall for you.

“The makeout room Richie showed me should be somewhere over here,” you said pointing at a section of the map.

Remus almost choked “The what?!”

“Oh… right, that’s what Richie used to use it for, and for keeping his illegal books I guess,” you said casually as you tried to figure out the details of the map, “What’s that?” you asked when you noticed there was a moving symbol with an “AF” written on top. It was walking a couple of passages away from you. There were other symbols with letters like that in different sections.

“That’s Filch,” he said as he grabbed your arm and started pulling you towards the other side.

“You tagged Filch?!” you asked surprised.

“We started playing with a small little trinket until he confiscated it. We knew he’d keep it around, and now we know where he is all the time.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and shock, you already knew your friends were clever, only clever people could plan something like what you were about to do, but they weren’t just clever, they were also resourceful, imaginative, strategic and analytical. They were freaking geniuses.

You followed behind him, both walking towards the dungeons and to the potions’ classroom. Once you arrived he pulled his wand out, but you shook your head, pulling out a copy of the keys.

“How did you?” he asked as he saw you slide it in and heard the pins adjust into place. He was staring at you in awe.

“He gave it to Lily to get some things earlier in the morning,” you explained “I got Alex Wood to teach me how to use Gemino a couple of weeks ago, and used it to make our very own copy.”

He was sure he couldn’t be more in love with you than he was, until you said that. “Our”, the word lingered on his brain, he’d have to tell Sirius how goddamned sneaky his girlfriend was, he was sure to get a kick out of it.

The two of you walked together, he waved his wand over the door of the ingredients room “No alarm spells,” he told you. You smiled and used the key to open it, there were rows and rows of ingredients in the small potion room. You had already gotten most of them, but you still needed some key things for the potion.

Remus handed the book over to you and you went straight to the page with the ingredient list and marked what you already had in hand, and the two of you started to work together seamlessly, you’d say the name of the ingredient and he’d pull it from the shelf and put it on his bag.

“Is that the last one?” he whispered as he saw you mark the paper with a pencil.

You nodded, but then shook your head “No wait!” you said “Spider venom essence, grab some spider venom essence.” He turned to you, an eyebrow arched: that wasn’t on the book, he knew. “Richie recommended it, he also said he might have some other useful ingredients on the hideout.”

Remus nodded at your explanation and leaned down to take the spider venom essence from the bottom shelf, along with another small bottle and placed them on his shoulder bag “Now we’ve got everything.”

You looked through the list and went over everything you had already gotten. “Indeed we do,” you said after a couple of seconds of concentration. He smiled at how cute you looked, from the angle where he was crouching in.

“Let’s go to your makeout room then,” he said as he finally stood up.

“We really need to find a better name for it,” you said as you rolled your eyes. You left the small ingredient closet and Remus placed the cloak around the two of you again. He took the book from your hands and placed it on the bag as you took the map again “Looks like the way’s empty, we just have to be a bit more careful with the prefects, in case any of them is patrolling somewhere.” You said as the two of you started to walk away. Both stopped for you to close the door, and once it was done you handed him the keys, “here,” you said as you placed them over his hands.

He looked at you puzzled “Why?”

“You’ll come with the boys more often than me,” you said simply “And you’re way more responsible than any of them, if anyone should have the keys, it should be dear Moony.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile at the way you used his nickname, he found he liked you calling him Moony almost as much as he liked it when you said Rem. But he liked Rem better because that one had been entirely yours.

The two of you walked towards the make-out room side by side, at some point Remus had placed his hand near the back of your neck and he pretty much guided you through the halls as you stared at the map, making sure you weren’t getting close to Filch or any of the other prefects that had already been tagged by the boys.

“Have you considered doing something to tag absolutely every single person in the castle?” You asked as you walked through a particularly quiet hallway.

He smiled, great minds think alike, he thought. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to do it for a while.” He told you “We can’t exactly give a charm to every single student.”

“You need to charm the school instead,” you said as you pulled your head from the map and leaned over to check on the passage you’d go through afterwards “I’m not saying it will be easy but there must be a way to tap into Hogwarts’ magic,” you said then “That or you charm the Hogwarts Express, since everyone goes through the Hogwarts Express at least once.”

Remus turned to you with his eyes wide open “That’s actually brilliant!”

You turned to him with a small proud smile “Thank you,” and shot him a small wink. By then, the two of you were already reaching the small statue. “All right, at the count of three, you placed your hand on the frog and rub, deal?” you asked, looking at him with a smile.

He looked at you incredulously “you want me to rub the frog?“

You nodded “I know, It’s weird, I thought that too, but trust me,” you said with a smile, and how could he not? He placed his hand on the frog “I’m gonna place my hand on top,” you warned before gently sitting your hand over his, he almost melted right then and there. “Go ahead then–“

He rubbed the frog, and it swallowed the two of you this time, you tried to land on your feet like you had done on your way out earlier that day, but you didn’t think how much more complicated it would be to do it with someone else also being inside the passage so instead you tripped over Remus’ long legs and the invisibility cloak. By the time you were falling over the small room, he was the first one on the ground, you fell on top closely behind, gravity and the force of the frog having your lips crashing against the corner of his.

“Ugh sorry,” you said as you used your good arm to prompt yourself up and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of your sweater, you were certain some of your saliva had ended up rubbing all over the poor boy’s face, even if you couldn’t see shit. Remus was thankful the place was so dark because if you had actually seen how red he’d gotten, you probably would’ve started to realise that something was off.

“It’s fine,” he said, grabbing your arm gently to stop it from rubbing into his face, he licked his lips, you still tasted exactly like you had at Marlene’s party. He felt bIood start to rush down, and coughed, moving his face to the side “Would you mind getting off, though?”

“Sorry,” you repeated, lifting yourself and standing all together. You extended your hand for him to grab as soon as you were up. You still barely made the figure of him on the floor, but you were sure he saw a lot better, since only seconds later he grabbed your hand, and started to stand as well.

“Your shoulder ok?”

You rolled it over “Yeah, fell on my chest,” you said. Yeah, I noticed, he thought, but didn’t say a thing “And you broke most of the fall. Are you okay?”

He nodded, then remembered you probably couldn’t see it, “Yeah, totally.”

You pulled your wand from your pocket then using a very controlled version of incendio to turn on the kerosene lantern in the corner, but when you did, several other candles, one by one, started to turn on all over the room, and then out of a small phonograph started playing soft, sexy music. You looked around, taking the whole place in, and when you realised what was going on, you broke into a laugh.

Remus started laughing right afterwards, the whole situation was so hilarious to you that you straight up bent down, placing a hand on the table to keep yourself standing. You felt Remus place his hand over your upper back as he too tried to hold himself up “Wouldn’t have assumed Richie to be such a romantic,” you said as you tried to regain your breath.

“What?! But he had a whole love triangle going on,” Remus told you, he was also trying to regain his breath “He was a total heartbreaker at his time.”

You gasped “Wait really?”

“Yeah, heard some other ghosts talking about him.”

“You really do learn something new every day,” you said, finally standing up straight, and pointing at the old phonograph, it stopped playing instantly. Good riddance, whatever version of spicy 1800s sexy music Richie was into, wasn’t vibing with you.

Remus was relieved that the laughing had made you just as red as him, you were as flushed as each other now, just for different reasons. You took a few more deep breaths and stood in front of the table, casually walking over to him and pulling the book from his bag, still panting a little. You had done it with such a naturality, such confidence as you invaded his personal space that he almost thought you were Sirius for a second.

You opened the book on the table and started looking for the potion you’d be brewing, taking out some of the ingredients from your backpack as he busied himself pulling the stuff from his own shoulder bag. Once you had all the stuff you’d brought on the table you walked over to the small potions cupboard Richie had left in the corner of the small room.

“You think this place is soundproof?” he asked.

“Well, if it really was Richie’s make-out room, and if he even had a phonograph, I’d say it’d make sense for it to be soundproof,” you said diverted “Why, wanna bring Alice over?” you added with a cheeky smile.

Who?!, he almost asked, before remembering what an ass he was for even thinking it, “It’s your secret spot, I’d never.”

“Technically It’s Richie’s,” you said with a shrug. “But I’d let you.”

“I still wouldn’t want to,” he said then, almost too quickly, “It’s ours,” he mumbled almost to himself, you’d taken him there, he was not going to take any other girl, or boy for that matter. Either way, the only boy he’d want to take there would be Sirius, and you’d probably take him there eventually either way.

“Oh, he has some good stuff here,” you said as you continued checking, distracting yourself with some of the vials and flasks in the corner of the room “You think these can expire?”

He turned to you “Uhm… Haven’t they been here since the 1800s…”

“Mid 1800s,” you corrected “Like… 150 years ago.”

“Right…” Remus said, “I mean I guess the dried stuff wouldn’t actually expire,” he shrugged, “Pass me the small cauldron, would you?” he asked. You grabbed it from the corner, using both hands when you realised it was heavier than you expected “BIoody hell what did they make them with back then?”

“Cast Iron,” he said as he walked towards you and pulled it from your grasp with one hand, carefully sitting it on top of the table. You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly jealous of his werewolf strength. “You brought the measuring cups, yeah?”

You nodded and pulled them out of your bag before handing them over to him, and turning back to the section with the vials “We’ve also got this,” you said as you pulled a small weight scale from the cupboard “They’re meant to be more accurate.”

“They are,” he agreed as he extended his hand to take it from yours. You kept exploring the ingredients on the cupboard as he measured. You found a few interesting things, along with Richie’s very own pot of Spider Venom’s Essence. Except this one had evaporated with time and was a way thicker liquid –like molasses- pooling at the bottom of the vase, while the one you’d gotten from Slughorn’s was syrupy, like a serum. You unclogged the corkscrew at the top and leaned it towards your nose.

“Wait, hold up!” Remus said, but it had been too late, you had already gotten a whiff, and then you felt it, thousands of tiny feet crawling all over your skin, you shivered, closing your eyes shut as you hoped for the feeling to go away. You knew it was because of what you had done, so you didn’t panic, but your knowledge did not make the experience any less excruciating. You were sure you were flinching every couple of seconds as you felt Remus approach.

He placed his hand over your good shoulder and you flinched again, “Here, drink this,” he said. You did as told, slowly the crawling started to go away. Remus still had his hand on your shoulder and was looking at you with a concentrated expression “Better?”

You nodded “Almost gone,” you said as you shivered one last time. “I was so not expecting that,” you said “What did I drink?”

“Water and a bit of Webbane,” he said. “Yook it when you told me to grab the essence, I thought it could be useful…”

You looked at him bemused “That was a brilliant call,” you said as you rolled your good shoulder to try and get the last bit of the crawling to go away, he finally pulled his hand away, just after he felt the way your muscles shifted underneath his hand.“How did you know?”

“We were gonna use it once for a different prank, Peter did the exact same thing you just did, and he was whining about the crawling for like 2 hours. We investigated how to contrarrestar it afterwards.”

You gasped “You’re telling me I would have gone through two hours of that if it hadn’t been for you?!?”

He shrugged, “Probably more, that thing looks really freaking potent.”

You shivered just at the idea “Thank you, my saviour,” you said, he chuckled at your nickname.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a little proud smile “Come on, let’s get back to work, we don’t have much time.”

“We’ve got all night,” you said as you walked next to him and picked one of the ingredients at the bottom of the list to measure from bottom to top while he did the opposite. It’s something you had done many times before in classes. You had developed it to be faster in the measuring process and get on with the potion-making before most of the other teams. Your speed and precision always got you and Remus praises from Slughorn.

“I’d rather get some sleep, tomorrow we’ll actually stay up all night setting everything up.”

“I’m sure we won’t take too long,” you said.

Unfortunately, the potion had a lot of rather precise steps and worse of all, long waiting times in between ingredients. You had laid your head down on the table, toying with a tiny little crystal globe that you had picked from one of the shelves, rolling back and forth, over your fingers and then side to side. Remus, who was actually sitting on a small stool you’d found and decided to take turns to use, leaned over his arms on the table, looking ahead at some of the books, and checking his wristwatch every couple of minutes.

“How much longer till the Puffskein puff dust?” you asked with a yawn.

“10 more minutes,” he responded, “then another 15 ‘till we can add the hairs from a nervous niffler,” he said, checking his clock one last time. And then looked at you, you were still rolling the little globe in your hands, carefully brushing your fingers around the small ball, with rather elegant hand movements, he stared straight at your hands. He was thinking of how delicate they looked, small and adorable, especially compared to his own, coated with scars.Remus suddenly felt a little self-conscious and shifted in his seat, pulling his hands under the table, you turned to him at the sudden movement, your eyes focusing on his “Do you want to play with it?” you asked as you picked the globe up and turned it in your hand.

He shook his head in response “I was just looking at the way you were moving your hands,” he admitted “It was rather effortlessly elegant.”

You shot your eyebrows up “You think?” you asked “I really liked going to the ballet when I was younger, maybe some of their movements stuck,” you said with a shrug, perhaps that was another reason you had been so drawn to Nighshade at the beginning, she moved like the dancers you so enjoyed looking at.

He leaned his head on his hand again, turning to look at you instead “Did you ever do ballet?”

You shook your head “Dad wouldn’t let me, said it was too much of a fairy thing to try out.”

“And he doesn’t like fairies because…?”

“My grandma’s half-fairy,” you said casually, “tho my parents have been trying to hide that from everyone since like forever.”

“So you’re not actually a pure-bIood?” He asked, trying to hide his surprise.

You shook your head with a tight-lipped smile “Never have been. But since Dad wanted to secure his place in the ministry and all those political things, he decided to keep the fact that he married someone that wasn’t actually pure bIood a secret.”

“But that– Oh…” he said as if something dawned on him. “That’s why you’re so freaking charming and pretty, you’re part Fairy!” he said, not quite thinking before speaking. You looked at him with a surprised, slightly teasing expression “I didn’t- I mean…”

You smiled a little wider at his sudden bashfulness and then burst into a laugh, “I too think you’re pretty Remus,” you said in between chuckles.

He looked at you half surprised, and then shook his head sheepishly “‘m not.”

“Well, I think you are and you cannot change my mind,” you said with a shrug, “catch this one,” you said as you rolled the crystal globe towards him, he caught it with ease.

She thinks I’m pretty.

“What does it feel like to be part fairy?” he asked.

“Normal,” you said with a shrug “What does it feel to be a werewolf?”

“Take a guess,” he told you with an arched eyebrow and a very sarcastic tone.

“I mean… yeah, full moon’s shit. But in other times,” you said, “I’ve seen you, you have really good senses, you see better in the dark, you’re a lot stronger, you heal faster…”

“Seems like you’ve been paying waaay too much attention to me,” he teased.

“You’re my best friend, of course I would,” you said simply. Then the last drop of sand fell on the hourglass and it emitted a soft chiming sound.

You stood straight and walked towards the small cauldron next to the boy. Placing the Puffskein puff dust on it and carefully mixing the ingredients clockwise, when you were done you flipped the hourglass again and walked back around the chair and the boy, sitting on the table this time, letting your feet dangle like you had done when you talked to Richie.

“If you want the stool I can–” he said as he shuffled in his seat.

You shook your head “-Nah I’m fine,” you said as you looked at the ceiling and let yourself fall on the table, slowly so you wouldn’t disturb the potion, your skirt rode up a little and Remus forced himself to look at your face, but the way your hair had sprawled all over as you laid in the table wasn’t helping him either. You then dipped your hand in your pockets and took out a bar of chocolate.

“Want some?” you said as you broke the bar in half and extended your hands towards him.

He smiled “Of course,” he said and grabbed the piece, his hand brushing over yours just slightly. He did it on purpose, he wanted to feel your hands, the way you moved the globe had been tempting enough. “You know I’d never refuse a chocolate.”

You smiled “Even less if it’s Honyduke’s,” you said with a smile, he just chuckled in response.

That night Remus and you talked about nothing and everything all at once, he told you about his parents, about his father being against werewolves and how the retaliation of that had ended up in his furry little problem. You told him about your old school, about your family, about the time you met Sirius. Although he had already heard the story, he was interested to hear it from your point of view instead of Sirius’. All the while you’d carefully measure and add the ingredients on the potion. You talked about school and classes and he told you some of the pranks they had done before, all the different ways they’d gotten caught, just for you to be careful tomorrow night.

“You think we can use this one instead?” you asked as you grabbed the thicker and older version of Spider venom essence.

He had his head turned towards the caldron and looked at you through his lashes, yeah there was no question about it, Remus John Lupin was pretty. “You think it’s a good idea?”

You shrugged “Could make it a bit more potent?”

Remus laughed, “If you want to do it, we’ll do it.”

You shook your head “I don’t want to actually hurt them, though.”

“SVE is not poisonous, can’t actually hurt anyone unless it’s combined with something else. It will make you feel miserable for a couple of hours depending on the portion thought.”

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“This is your revenge plan sweetheart, your call.” You had a brief flashback to Richie calling you that, it didn’t sound the same way as it did from Remus’ lips. In fact, you’d go as far as to say that when Remus said it, it… sounded right. “So…?”

You looked at the vial in your hands and then turned to him, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips “Let’s do it.”

It must have been like three a.m. when the potion was finally ready. You had to retrace your steps, going back to Slughorn’s to return all the ingredient bottles and cover your own tracks. Both you and Remus were careful enough to wipe all the bottles clean since you had talked about detective novels and fingerprints earlier that night. Finally, you went back to your rooms, he walked you all the way to your door and gave you one of the potions you’d brewed, the one that you’d have to use the next morning. He kept the ones you’d be using at night.

“See you tomorrow,” you whispered, leaning onto him so that it would be barely audible and then sneaked inside of your room.

When the door slowly and silently closed behind you, Remus sighed, letting out a long breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding so far. Then he shut his eyes and crouched on the floor, taking deep breaths as he tried to process everything that had gone through his mind that night. He was sure he was going crazy, must have been consumed by greed. How was it possible for him to fall in love with not one but two of his best friends? At once?!?!

Friday, November 26th, 1976

Later that morning you’d been the first one to wake, and because of the prank, there was no way either of you skipped your morning rides since you all wanted to appear as natural as possible. Regardless of the fact that you had actually gone, James had developed a couple of tactics so that it only looked like you were practising really hard, by screaming and telling you to do laps while the three of you hid behind one of the towers or something. You basically made a huge show of it. And when you went back to the castle you were all laughing. You took the quickest shower of your life and walked straight downstairs.

This was going to be one of the most crucial parts of the mission, and they had trusted you with it. You took a deep breath and used your wand to rub the pear at the entrance of the kitchens. “Have you seen Nimbletwist?” you asked one of the elves who shook his head in response. You sighed and continued asking around the elves frantically, but neither of them knew where Nimbletwist was. Which was logical since you knew she had been commissioned to the Owlery all week.

But as you continued walking around the kitchen frantically, you started to lay small portions of the liquid you had hidden in your left sleeve onto every single one of the water, juice and even wine vases available. It was a relaxing potion, similar to the one Remus drank, but with a longer release time, which meant, every single person in the castle would have a very swell and relaxing day. And –and this is where the catch was– they would also sleep like a log.

The best part is that this particular potion was untraceable since there was no smell nor taste to it, and no one in the castle would be affected by it, at least no more than accidentally falling asleep in a class because they drank too much orange juice in the morning. Once you were sure you’d placed drops of the potion all over the drinks, you hid a smile that was tempting to creep up your face and turned to yet another elf, one that you knew hung out with Nimbletwist often.

“Haven’t you seen her?” You asked the small elf with an innocent tone.

“Her? You mean Nimbletwist master?” he asked in a squeaky voice. You nodded, and he shook his head in response “Pebblier hasn't been spotting Nimbletwist because she isn't in the kitchens anymore. Nimbletwist has been labouring in another location all week.”

“She has?” you asked with a bit of a frown and a gasp, selling damn well your false surprise “And here I was making trouble all over the kitchen while looking for her…” you added with a small pout and a slightly dejected look.

“You hasn’t been making any ruckus master,” Pebblier said “We house elves enjoy yer company, in the kitchens. You’s a very kind witch.”

You swallowed, feeling a little bad for having tricked them all to get the prank going, but it really was a harmless thing, so even if you had tricked them, you were sure they wouldn’t find trouble because of it. So you managed to smile awkwardly, trying to think of ways in which you’d make it up to them. “Thank you Pebblier, you’re very kind yourself.”

The small house elf smiled and gave you a thumbs up, walking alongside you towards the exit as he told you about the lemon pie recipe he had been working on the past week. He said it’d be available the next day as a special little treat. He also asked where exactly on the table you sat so he could send one up right where you were and you could make sure to size a slice. Nimbletwist had told him how much you liked pie at some point, and he was rather eager to have you try it.

You wondered how it was possible that Hogwarts house-elves were so nice in comparison to the one in your house, or the one in Sirius’, whom he had told you about.

Once out of the kitchen you walked straight upstairs and sat alongside the girls “No conspiratory plotting in the morning,” you had advised them, which is why James suggested that you sit with the girls instead of them, so even if something went wrong in the end, you had an alibi. And you all had already prepared your alibis for the night too. Remus had told everyone he’d be studying late in the library, and everyone knew when he studied late, he often found a small little nook somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothered by anybody. Sometimes people even thought they saw him in the library even if he hadn’t been there from how often he did it, so it was perfect.

You and Sirius had planned a “date”, you’d told everyone you’d be walking together by the lake that evening, and you’d even convinced Tom, who you knew was going to be practising apparitions on the grounds, to tell people he had seen you there. Tom, being Tom, had just given you a cheeky smile, a suggestive look and said “I’ve got you covered,” with a rather exaggerated wink.

James and Peter would hang out in the Gryffindor common room for a while and then head up to their room with the excuse that James wanted to be well-rested since he had to start preparing his mind and body for the game against Gryffindor that Sunday. They’d planned to make a very loud exit and make sure that at least ten people saw them leave. Once they were in their room, they would use Sirius’ record player to play some snoring and their own voices filmed in between. That way if anyone passed by when it was still early, it would sound like they really were in the room, even if by then, they would have already put on the cloak and left.

Once in your place at the table, you turned in the direction of the boys, looking at each of them straight in the eye and raising your goblet filled with water. Sirius smiled, you winked at him. And after smiling back at the girls, you placed the goblet back onto the table, without drinking a drop. That was the signal the boys were waiting for, they too gave a small toast in between themselves, empty goblets in hand clashing against each other.

Later that night on divination you were sitting next to James when you realised one of the Ravenclaw girls, who normally paid attention, was falling asleep as the Professor went on and on about the qualities of reading divination balls. Others were so dazed as they stared at their crystal balls, that they might as well have been asleep altogether.

You snickered as you pointed at Quentin Finchley, a Ravenclaw boy who was practically snoring in the back.

James rolled his eyes and whispered, “Look at what you did Vixen, you’ve plummeted the GPA of the Ravenclaws for your little vendetta.”

“Shut it Prongs, it’s not as if this part of the plan hadn’t been your idea.”

He just shrugged “Might have been. But remind me again who went around the kitchen tricking all the poor elves?”

You elbowed him playfully on the side, ready to continue your little quarrell when you noticed Spellman turning to you with a heavy stare. You gulped and stood straighter, prompting James to look at the crystal ball, as if that had been the thing you had been talking about from the very beginning.

After divination, you had Magical Theory, where you both worked on your glasses until they were ready. You still had to work on the presentation and on the written section of the design, but the teacher had been so impressed with how fast you’d managed to make your item work that he prompted you to also work on another of your ideas. He said he’d give you an extra mark on your grades for the second part of the school year if you did.

All thought both you and James had whined about it when he was gone –since you’d had much more work to do– you were pretty excited about the fact that you’d get to work on one of the other ideas, especially some of those long-distance communication items inspired by muggle technology, you thought they could be extra useful for the break, to keep in contact with each other.

After class was over, the plan finally went into motion. You had decided you’d all meet inside some of the passageways. That way you could each use your own little entrance and reduce the risk of being found out. After dinner, you went straight to the entrance that Remus had shown you on your first day since it was the closest to the Dining Hall and the path you knew best.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0 @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Happy New Year!!! Some of you must already be in 2024, some of us are still in 2023, so this is definitely an interesting time to post. And while some of you might be enjoying dinner with family or partying out with friends, I decided to give a little something to those who are home alone and in need of some friends. I love you guys, you have made my 2023 so much better just by commenting and existing and being there, may 2024 bring you all the joy and love in the world. Lilly xxx

Raead more Marauders Fiction

273 notes · View notes